Along the North Coast of Egypt<br > The Thracian died sometime after noon. He had never<br >regained consciousness after falling from atop the yard while<br >trying to help shorten sail during the gray hour before dawn.<br >The other man， now the lone survivor， shipped the steering<br >oar for a moment and checked his comrade s condition. He<br >had found the brown eyes open and staring， the tanned face<br >rigid， the lean body already starting to turn cold.<br > With hardly a second thought， he stooped， got both<br >hands under the man s inert body， and hefted it with a<br >sudden， powerful jerk， the big muscles of his upper arms<br >bulging with the strain. He wondered for a moment， standing<br >there with the body in his arms， whether Thracians had any<br >death rituals; but he knew of none， and there was no time for<br >improvising one for sentimentality s sake--the wind was start-<br >ing up again， and the clouds to the west were black and<br >menacing. He heaved mightily， and the body fell into the<br >Great Sea with a dull splash.<br > 5<br ><br >
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