'Then just you do as I do,' said the old man, 'just say good-bye to the poor chap; I remember a mate told me years agone that good-bye meant "God be with you." I reckon that ain't a bad prayer.'
With his head averted the boy did as he was told.
'Good-bye,' said Dick, 'good-bye, pard!'—and 'good-bye' echoed Snap—their voices sounding faint and strange as they stood up there close to the stars, with the white clouds below and the dead man between them.
GOOD-BYE, PARD
'Swing it, Snap, and let go,' said Wharton, and the boy's hands let go as the light burden which they bore flew outwards over the edge.
By some fascination which he could not resist Snap looked down, and saw the dreadful bale spin round and down with awful velocity, until as it plunged into the billowy clouds of mist for a moment he fancied an arm broke loose from its bandages and stretched up towards him as the body disappeared from view.
And then all was over. No sound came back to tell them that it had reached its resting-place. The stars stood still in the heavens, and Snap hated them for their cold, unsympathising stare. The granite rocks looked cold and hard and terrible, and the sky itself looked as hard and as merciless as the rocks.
A strong hand gripped Snap's shoulder at that moment, and a kind, strong voice was in his ear: