ed nor spoken. But her hand was not slow
to assist in the labour of the hour. The grave was soon dug. It was
instantly made to receive its miserable tenant. As the lifeless form
descended, Esther, who sustained the head, looked up into the face of
her husband with an expression of anguish, and said--

"Ishmael, my man, it is very terrible! I cannot kiss the corpse of my
father's child!"

The squatter laid his broad hand on the bosom of the dead, and said--

"Abiram White, we all have need of mercy; from my soul do I forgive you!
May God in Heaven have pity on your sins!"

The woman bowed her face and imprinted her lips long and fervently on
the pallid forehead of her brother. After this came the falling clods
and all the solemn sounds of filling a grave. Esther lingered on her
knees, and Ishmael stood uncovered while the woman muttered a prayer.
All was then finished.

On the following morning the teams and herds of the squatter were seen
pursuing their course towards the settlements. As they approached the
confines of society the train was blended among a thousand others.
Though some of the numerous descendants of this peculiar pair were
reclaimed from their lawless and semi-barbarous lives, the principals of
the family, themselves, were never heard of more.

CHAPTER XXXIII

--No leave take I; for I will ride
As far as land will let me, by your side.
--Shakspeare.

The passage of the Pawnee to his village was interrupted by no scene of
violence. His vengeance had been as complete as it was summary. Not even
a solitary scout of the Siouxes was left on the hunting grounds he was
obliged to traverse, and of course the journey of Middleton's party
was as peaceful as if made in the bosom of the States. The marches were
timed to meet the weakness of the females. In short, the victors seemed
to have lost every trace of ferocity with their success, and appeared
disposed to consult the most trifling of the wants of that engrossing
people, who were daily encroaching on their rights, and reducing the
Red-men of the west, from their state of proud independence to the
condition of fugitives and wanderers.

Our limits will not permit a detail of the triumphal entry of the
conquerors. The exultation of the tribe was proportioned to its previous
despondency. Mothers boasted of the honourable deaths of their sons;
wives proclaimed the honour