y," declared he greedily;
but Hopkins shook his head.

"It is the grave of some great sachem, or haply from these planks above
him it is the grave of whoever built yon cabin and palisado."

"Belike there is treasure of some wrecked vessel which brought him
hither, and which he stored away thus, until his rescue," said Rigdale.

"Should not we cautiously open it, Captain, and certify ourselves what
is therein?" asked Bradford. "If it prove a grave we can but reverently
cover it again, and if it be food, we need all that we can gather for
food and seed."

"Ay, Master Bradford," replied Standish thoughtfully. "I like not
meddling with graves for despite or for curiosity, but sith it much
imports us to understand this country where we are to dwell, I think we
may examine this mound, and, as thou sayest, if it be a grave of white
man or of red, we will leave it as honorable as we find it."

Permission thus given, swords, bayonets, and hatchets were set to work,
and in a few moments, the upper surface of sand and earth being removed,
the explorers came upon a large bow, strong, tough, and beautifully
carved and pointed.

"It is a sachem, and a mighty man of valor if he wielded this bow and
shot these arrows," said Hopkins handling them respectfully.

"It seemeth to me like a white man's touch in this carving," said
Winslow examining the bow.

"Here lieth a goodly mat, stained with red and blue in a fair pattern,"
said Bradford drawing it off the grave, as it now seemed certain to be.

"And what is this?" exclaimed Alden raising something which lay beneath
the mat. Brushing away the mould that clung to it, this proved to be a
piece of plank some twenty-seven inches in length, carefully smoothed
upon one side, and painted with what seemed an heraldic achievement,
while the top was cut into something of the fashion of a crest
consisting of three spikes or tines.

"It is a hatchment over a noble's grave," cried Standish. "Say you not
so, Master Winslow? See you, here is a shield, although I know not the
device, and here is surely a crest."

"So it beseemeth, Captain," replied Winslow cautiously. "And to my mind
this crest is a rude presentment of the lilies of France. See you now,
Master Bradford!"

"Nay, I know naught of such toys," replied Bradford sturdily. "To my
mind it looketh as much like Neptune's trident as aught else."

"Or like a muck-fork," suggested Rigdale in his broad Lancashire
dialect, and with a