coarse laugh resented by Standish, who, an
aristocrat to his heart's core, ill brooked contempt of chivalrous
emblems, especially by a rustic of his own shire.

"Well, let us get on with this business," said he peremptorily, and
pulling away another mat he disclosed a store of bowls, plates, dishes,
and such matters, all new and beautifully carved and decorated.

"For the dead man to cook and eat on his journey to the happy hunting
grounds, which the salvages place in the room of heaven," said Hopkins
sanctimoniously. Beneath these lay another mat, and beneath this a crypt
carefully bedded with dry white sand, upon which lay two packages
carefully sewn up in sailcloth, the one more than six feet in length,
the other barely three.

"The body of a man and child," said Bradford softly, as he helped to
raise them from their pure white cell and lay them upon the earth.

"Open them with care, friends," said Standish uncovering his head. "It
is some white man buried in such honor as they had knowledge of by those
who loved him."

The many folds of canvas removed, there lay a strange sight before the
Pilgrims' eyes. Inclosed in a great quantity of fine red powder,
emitting a pungent but agreeable odor, lay the skeleton of a man,
fleshless, except upon the skull, where clung the skin and a mass of
beautiful hair, yellow as gold, and curling closely as if in life.

"Is the flesh turned to this red powder?" asked Alden fingering it
dubiously.

"Dost know, Hopkins?" asked Standish, but the veteran shook his head.

"I have seen naught like this in all my life," confessed he. "See, here
is a parcel at his feet done up in another bit of the old sail."

"Shall I open it, Captain?" asked Alden eagerly.

"Ay, an' thou wilt."

"'T is clothes. A sailor's jerkin and breeches, a knife, a sail needle
threaded with somewhat like a bowstring"--

"A deer's sinew. They still use it as our women do linen thread," said
Hopkins taking it in his hand.

"And some bits of wrought iron," continued Alden turning them over.

"Ay, ay, ay, the poor fellow's chiefest treasures in his exile among the
salvages," said Bradford gently.

"And still he was finding some comfort, you may well be sure," suggested
Hopkins. "For it was a savage woman who laid him thus carefully to his
rest, and yon package be sure is the bones of her child."

"Belike. Open it, John," said Standish briefly, and in effect the
smaller package contained the same red and