THE BURIAL. 191 



" Then how can we bury him, and when ? " 

 " The sooner the better," I replied. " Bury him here to-night 

 — 'twould be least suspected." 

 " And how hide the grave ? " 

 " Build the fire over it," said Mike. 



And so it was agreed that the burial should be made in the 

 uight, and that the party should leave before light should expose 

 their motions to the enemy. I was deputed to acquaint Lou Jack- 

 son with the plan, and to obtain her approval. I found her in her 

 tent, that opened to the fire, half lying and half sitting against a 

 roll of blankets. Her eyes were shut, and she seemed asleep, but 

 when spoken to she answered without moving. I told her of our 

 plans for the morrow. She answered in a low distinct tone that 

 it was all well. I spoke of her father, and that it was necessary to 

 have a burial so secretly as to preserve the grave from the know- 

 ledge of the enemy. She consented by a single word of assent in 

 the same composed manner. I then spoke of its being done im- 

 mediately, and asked her if she was willing. She turned in her 

 habitual manner, as though deferring the question to some one 

 beside her; it was her manner of asking her father that had 

 always in the family been regarded as a question and answered by 

 Jackson without a word. Then as if recalling to her mind that 

 there was no one to respond, she looked around vacantly with a 

 troubled look, pronouncing the name of Mike. 



" Yes, child," said the hunter, bending his frame to the entrance 

 of the low tent, and replying to the unasked question, " that 's best." 

  Very well," she said ; and seeing her indisposed to talk, I left 

 the tent. 



In a few minutes the fire was removed from the spot where it 

 had been burning for so many days, and the pile of ashes pushed 

 aside. Then with sharp sticks for mattocks, and paddles for 

 shovels, in a little while we dug a grave in the sandy soil. Four 

 men took the canoe, covered with the blanket, and guarded by 

 Duke, and carried it up by the grave. The fire waned and flickered 

 and the moon was nearly set. The heavy gaily- coloured Indian 

 blanket was wrapped around the dead man, and his hands were 

 folded, " as though praying dumbly, over his breast." Nothing was 



