lently by their dead till morning
broke upon them. Shivering in body and mind, they made ready to carry
her remains to their island grave, while the wild sea-birds, which flew
screaming in the face of the coming storm, seemed, to their saddened
hearts, to wail of human impotence.

Bastienne and Marguerite took the head of the coffin between them, while
Claude carried the foot, and the mournful little procession left the
hut, and climbed the hill on which the grave had been dug. Slowly their
burden was lowered into the shallow earth; and, holding the crucifix
above it, they offered up prayers for the rest of the soul which had
been so suddenly snatched from among them. It was hard to cast the first
spadeful of earth upon the coffin. As each pebble struck the lid, it
seemed to them as if Marie must feel the blows. But the bitter duty was
at last at an end, the last stone was placed on the rude monument which
marked Marie's resting-place, and sadly they turned to leave the spot.

The storm had been steadily increasing, and now the mad waves lashed and
rolled like mighty, moving mountains upon the shore. The far-thrown
spray fell in torrents about their hut. They were chilled to the bone,
and sat shivering all day about the great log fire which burned in their
huge, out-of-door fireplace. At last the fury of the gale drove them
indoors, and all three sat huddled in their blankets, unable to keep
warm.

This was but the prelude to winter. But before that dread season settled
down in all its northern fierceness, they were to know a few days of
happy respite. Next morning the storm had abated, and a bright sun
gleamed across the long, smooth rollers that still swept in upon the
shore. There was a strange feeling of summer in the air, and Claude, who
remembered his experiences at Quebec, when with Cartier on his second
voyage, knew that the "Indian Summer," the time set apart by the red men
to make their final preparations for winter, was upon them. For a week
the warm sun shone through the mellow haze, and for a week, from
morning till night, all three toiled to lay an abundant store of
firewood about their hut. It was well that they had this work to occupy
their time, for the heap of stones, marking the spot where their dead
companion lay, weighed upon their spirits. By the end of the week their
little hut was almost hidden from view by the great piles of wood they
had gathered, and the ringing blows of Claude's axe ceased.