e rapping at the door was continued till I opened
it. A rope was placed in my hand in which were two knots. They showed
the length and width of a coffin the man wished to make, and for which
he wanted lumber. I had only an old packing-case to give him. At
daylight, breakfastless, I went over to the tent and helped him make a
coffin from the case, a soap box and a small stable door. It was a
crude and weak affair. Ignorant of the language, I could only read
words of comfort from the Word of God and try to sing two Indian
hymns. Only a few of us stood about the grave, which the husband and
myself had dug.

In the coffin had been placed dry crusts of bread, waste pieces of
meat, a rusty knife, fork and spoon. In the grave were first placed
some thick comfortables and a filthy pillow, on which the coffin,
warmly wrapped, was placed. Then over the mouth of the grave was laid
the broken tent poles, the tent covering folded and laid over, then a
great mound of earth. At the grave everything the family had was given
away. And this was only ten years ago. But how great an improvement on
the custom of laying the body on the top of a high hill, or in the
branches of a tree, or even leaving the top of the coffin even with
the surface of the ground, which has been done away with only in the
last twelve years.

I have described one of the first funerals in the Indian country that
I remember. How different the funeral of one of our most faithful
women, Mrs. Mary Gilbert, who was buried from our crowded Grand River
Chapel April 17th. She had been a great sufferer for years, yet
patiently, uncomplainingly, bearing it all. Though in her last
sickness there was no hope of recovery, the most popular medicine man
was not sent for. The suffering woman was not put out in a tent to
die. Gratefully did she receive the tender nursing of the white lady
missionary and the skillful school physician. Tenderly was she cared
for to the last in a comfortable bed, in a clean, tidy house. The body
was not hurried with unseemly haste to the burial. Through the
darkness of night a messenger rode 30 miles to have the agency
carpenter make a coffin, neatly cover it with black cloth and white
metal trimmings. Through the darkness of another night was it carried
back. The one service of the Sabbath day was the funeral service.
Crowds gathered at the house at an early hour. The long procession of
wagons was nearly two hours in reaching the chapel. Beautiful a