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Not
exactly
over
this
were
the
vultures
engaged
in
their
aerial
evolutions
.
The
centre
of
their
swoopings
appeared
to
be
a
point
some
distance
off
among
the
trees
;
and
there
,
no
doubt
,
would
be
discovered
the
quarry
that
had
called
them
together
.
At
that
early
hour
there
was
no
traveller
--
Texan
,
or
stranger
--
to
test
the
truth
of
the
conjecture
;
but
,
for
all
that
,
it
was
true
.
At
a
point
in
the
chapparal
,
about
a
quarter
of
a
mile
from
the
blood-stained
path
,
lay
stretched
upon
the
ground
the
object
that
was
engaging
the
attention
of
the
vultures
.
It
was
not
carrion
,
nor
yet
a
quadruped
;
but
a
human
being
--
a
man
!
A
young
man
,
too
,
of
noble
lineaments
and
graceful
shape
--
so
far
as
could
be
seen
under
the
cloak
that
shrouded
his
recumbent
form
--
with
a
face
fair
to
look
upon
,
even
in
death
.
Was
he
dead
?
At
first
sight
any
one
would
have
said
so
,
and
the
black
birds
believed
it
.
His
attitude
and
countenance
seemed
to
proclaim
it
beyond
question
.
He
was
lying
upon
his
back
,
with
face
upturned
to
the
sky
--
no
care
being
taken
to
shelter
it
from
the
sun
.
His
limbs
,
too
,
were
not
in
a
natural
posture
;
but
extended
stiffly
along
the
stony
surface
,
as
if
he
had
lost
the
power
to
control
them
.
A
colossal
tree
was
near
,
a
live
oak
,
but
it
did
not
shadow
him
.
He
was
outside
the
canopy
of
its
frondage
;
and
the
sun
's
beams
,
just
beginning
to
penetrate
the
chapparal
,
were
slanting
down
upon
his
pale
face
--
paler
by
reflection
from
a
white
Panama
hat
that
but
partially
shaded
it
.