s, the wimin and children screamed.

"Oh! stranger, it war a frightful hour; one I shall remember to my dyin'
day, as it war only yesterday I saw and heard it. It war now dark, the
boat half filled with water, my brother dyin', Captain Paul nerveless
hangin' over his wife and children, cryin' like a whipped child. I still
clung on to my oar, and made the poor blacks pull for this side of the
river, as fast and well as thar bewildered and frightened senses allowed
'em.

"My poor mother leaned over poor Ben. She held his head in her lap; she
opened his bosom and the blood flowed out. He still breathed faintly--

"'Benjamin, my son,' said she, 'do you know me?'

"'Mother,' he breathed lowly. Mother tried to have him drink a cup of
water from the river, but he war past nourishment--and she asked him if
he knew he war dyin'?

"He gasped, 'Yes, mother, and may the Lord our God in heaven be merciful
to me, thus cut from you and life, mother--'

"'God's will be done,' cried my mother, as the pale face of her darlin'
boy fell upon her hand--he was gone.

"We reached shore, but dar not kindle a light, for fear the Ingins might
be prowlin' about on this side; yes, under this very tree, did we 'camp
that gloomy night. The whole of us, livin', dead, and wounded, lay 'yer,
fearin' even to weep aloud. About midnight, I took the two blacks, and
we dug yon grave and laid poor Ben in it, and the two children by his
side. It war an awful thing--awful to us all; and our sighs and sobs,
mingled with the prayers of the old mother, went to God's footstool, I'm
sure. We made such restin' places as circumstances permitted. I lay
down, but the cries of poor Captain Paul's wife and sister, cries of the
two survivin' children, and moans of us all, made sleep a difficult
affair. By peep of day I went down to the grave, and thar sat the old
mother. She had sat thar the live-long night; the sudden shock had been
too much for her.

"Two days afterwards the grave was opened and enlarged, and received two
more bodies, the wife of Captain Paul, and our kind, good old mother.
Thirty-five years have now passed. Could I leave this place? No; not a
day at a time have I missed seeing the grave, when within miles of it.
No, here must I rest too."

The old man seemed deeply affected. I could not refrain from taking up
the thread of his narrative to inquire what had become of Captain Paul
and his wife's sister.

"Well, poor thing, you see it war natu