He stands, exhaling, gazes down-river. The relentless waters continue to rise. There is the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon. He glances at his watch, but its glass is broken ... its seconds-hand stands still.
He strides to where “Jumbo” lays spread out on the sand, starts picking up its contents, shoving them in. The willows stir ever slightly.
INT. THE TENT. DARK BEFORE DAWN.
SWEDEN’S face appears gravely contorted as ABE climbs into the tent, hangs the lant-ern from the beam. He crouches at his friend’s side, noting the jaundiced hue of the skin, the twist and stretch of the mouth. Each inhalation is now a prolonged, moaning gasp....
ABE slaps his face, causing him to stir only slightly. It is as though he is struggling to return from a million miles away; his eyes lolling in th
