in a robe (an old robe, perhaps), and hoisted on a slender scaffold to the whistling winds, soon to be blown to the earth, my flesh to be devoured by the wolves and my bones rattled on the plains by the wild beasts. Chief of the soldiers, your labors have not been in vain. Your attention shall not be forgotten. My nation shall know the respect that is paid to the dead. When I return, I shall echo the sound of your guns."