my opinions to myself next time, when they are so uncomplimentary."

"Just as well," Bob agreed seriously. Then, turning to the dead Indian:
"We've got to lay that poor redskin to rest. I wonder how we are to
manage it!"

"We can't dig----"

"And we can't leave the body uncovered. The wolves would work mischief
in no time."

"How would it be if we were to lay him in that little hollow and cover
him with big stones?" suggested Holden. "There are plenty of boulders
about, and we could easily cover him with branches first, with stones on
the top, to keep off the animals."

"Right," Bob said; and together the lads gently raised the Indian's body
and placed it in a little flower-scented hollow that, after all, was a
fitting bed to receive the royal dead--quite as fitting as a dark pit.
Then they cast maple branches over it, and carried boulders until a
substantial mound was raised.

And when all was completed as well as they were able to do it,
instinctively both lads knelt beside the grave and prayed for a few
minutes in silence. And the birds overhead sang their hymns to unite in
the service--happy songs of gladness they sang, that seemed to convey to
the boys' hearts the grand lesson of all funeral services--that death is
not all sadness, for we know of the joy that follows.

There was nothing more to be done now but to return to camp. Mackintosh
had probably returned by this time, and he or Haggis would be able to
guide to the Dacotah village on the urgent errand. So the broncho was
caught. It had never wandered far after the recovery from its fright,
which was probably due to the sudden appearance of a wolf in the scrub;
and before long the chums were on the home trail, taking it in turn to
ride the horse.

Camp was reached about noon, and the boys were greeted at the tent by
the Scot.

"Where in the world have you two laddies been?" he immediately
questioned. "Here's Haggis and me (to say no' a word about Bannock)
returned at breakfast-time to find no' a single body at the camp. No'
that time has been wasted, for we would have rested till dinner in any
case. But it's foolish tiring yoursels like this when there's hard work
before you. Pleasure is all very well----"

"We've been on no pleasure trip," interrupted Alf, with a sad smile. "It
has been anything but pleasure to Arnold and me."

Thereupon Holden immediately launched into the story of his adventure
and his chum's--a tale that was listened to with