we saw at his grave when it was first opened, and who had
daily, since that time, sung over it her simple song.

The grief and disappointment of the mother, in the loss of her only son,
was not more deep or sincere, or enduring, than that of this
affectionate and devoted sister. From the moment of his birth, he was
the idol of her soul. She looked forward to the time, in her ardent
imagination very near at hand, when, emulating the virtues and deeds of
his father, he should become the noblest chief of his tribe. She had
pictured to herself the many wonderful exploits he should achieve, and
the love and veneration with which he would be regarded throughout the
nation. But now, those hopes were blasted, those visions had all faded
into darkness. Time had not soothed her disappointment, or softened the
poignancy of her grief. Waking or sleeping, the image of her lost
brother was before her. She longed to follow him, that she might
overtake him on the way, and help him in his passage over that fearful
stream.

She had laid down that night, as usual, and slept by the side of her
mother. Her dreams were troubled. She thought that arid plain and dark
river were before her. The faithful dog was struggling with the waves.
The little ark which held that precious treasure, was buffeted about by
the winds. Chilled with the cold, and terrified by the dark howling
storm, the lone child sobbed bitterly, and looked imploringly round for
his mother. In her distress and agitation, she awoke. Unable to sleep,
or even to rest, she rose, and ran to the grave.

"I come, I come, my precious one,
I am ever by your side--
Fear not, your voyage is almost done
Over that dismal tide;
The winds shall hush, the storm pass o'er,
And a friendly band shall come
To meet you on the spirit shore,
And bid you welcome home.
Fear not, for love that never sleeps
Shall guard you o'er that wave;
And mother her constant vigil keep
Beside your quiet grave."

Having chanted her simple lay of love, Monica turned from the grave,
stepped into a canoe, and paddled down the stream. Overcome with grief,
she dropped her paddle, sat pensively down in her shallop, and left it
to follow its course down the current. For several hours it glided
silently on. She gave no heed to the hours, till morning broke in the
east. Suddenly starting up from her long dream, she looked for her
paddle. It was gone. Seeing a