ad the way."

They walked slowly between the mounds. Menard looked carefully about,
but in the uncertain light he could see no sign of a new opening in
any of them. When they had passed the centre he stopped, and said
quietly:--

"Tegakwita."

The Indian turned.

"Where is the grave?"

"It is beyond, close to the great oak."

"Ah!"

They went on. The great oak was in a dense, deep-shadowed place, at
the edge of the circle. A little to one side, close to the crowding
thicket, was a small, new mound. Looking now at Tegakwita, Menard
could see that his front was stained with the soil. Probably he had
spent the day working on the mound for his sister. While Menard stood
at one side, he went to a bush that encroached a yard on the sacred
ground and drew out a number of presents, with necessary articles and
provisions to stay the soul on its long journey to the Happy
Hunting-Ground. It was at the end of Menard's tongue to repeat
Tegakwita's remark about hiding the weapons, but he held back and
stood silently waiting.

"Come," said the Indian.

He parted the bushes, drew away a heavy covering of boughs, and there,
wrapped in Tegakwita's finest blanket, lay the body of the Indian
girl. Menard stood over it, looking down with a sense of pity he had
never before felt for an Indian. He could not see her face, for it was
pressed to the ground, but the clotted scalp showed indistinctly in
the shadow. He suddenly raised, his eyes to Tegakwita, who stood
opposite.

"What have you done with the white brave?" he said in fierce, low
tones. "What have you done with him?"

Tegakwita raised one arm and swept it about in a quarter circle.

"Ask the vultures that come when a man falls, ask the beasts that wait
for everyone, ask the dogs of the village. They can tell you, not I."

Menard's hands closed tightly, and a wild desire came to him to step
across the body and choke the man who had killed Danton; but in a
moment he was himself. He had nothing to gain by violence. And after
all, the Indian had done no more than was, in his eyes, right. He bent
down; and together they carried the body to the grave, close at hand.
Tegakwita placed her sitting upright in the hole he had dug. By her
side he placed the pots and dishes and knives which she had used in
preparing the food they two had eaten. He set the provisions before
her and in her lap; and drawing a twist of tobacco from his bosom, he
laid it at her feet to win her the fa