en days or a fortnight when my father
again fell ill. He tried to proceed in the waggon, but was unable to
bear the jolting; and we were at length obliged to remain in camp by
ourselves, while the rest of the train continued on the road. Our camp
was pitched in an angle formed by a broad stream on the side of a wood,
so that we were pretty well protected should enemies on horseback attack
us. My father proposed to remain here to await another emigrant train,
hoping in a short time to be sufficiently recovered to move on. But, to
our great grief, Clarice and I saw that he was rapidly sinking. He
himself did not appear to be aware of his condition; and fearing that it
would aggravate his sufferings were he to think he was about to leave
us, young as we were, in the midst of the wild prairie among strangers,
we were unwilling to tell him what we thought.

The men with us began to grumble at the long delay, and declared their
intention of moving forward with the next emigrant train which should
come by. But what was our dismay, one morning, to find that both the
villains had gone, carrying off the cart, and a considerable amount of
our property! We were not aware at this time, however, that they had
managed to get hold of the chest which contained our money. Our father
was so ill, too, that we did not tell him what had occurred; and that
very evening, as Clarice and I were sitting by his side holding his
hands, he ceased to breathe.

At first we could not persuade ourselves that he was dead. That was
indeed a terrible night. I felt, however, that something must be done,
and that the first thing was to bury our poor father. We had spades and
pick-axes in the waggon, so, taking one of each, I commenced my
melancholy task near the banks of a stream.

I was thus engaged when I heard Clarice cry out; and on looking up I saw
a small emigrant train passing, which must have been encamped at no
great distance from us down the river. Fearing that they might pass
without observing us, I ran forward shouting out, entreating the leader
to stop. The train immediately came to a standstill, and a man advanced
towards me, in whom I soon recognized the person to whom Clarice had
given the book many months before.

"Why, my man," he said, "I thought I knew you! How are your sister and
your father? He had got an ugly hurt, I recollect, when I saw him."

"He is just dead," I answered.

"Dead!" he exclaimed; "and are you two young ones lef