sun-light, smoothly on,--on, forever. There did the Indian lay
him down, where he would have them bury him; and there, for the first
and last time, did he breathe a prayer over the graves of the departed,
to that Great Spirit, whom he had been taught was the one great
Father of all.

"Mother, poor Quady is not so strong as he used to be; when he pounds
the corn, to make nice cakes for me, his hands tremble, and I notice he
takes all the broth which you send to him, for he says he has no
appetite for anything else."

It was a holiday. A great display of military had arrived from the
continent.

"Sea-flower, you will see the beautiful horses, and the epaulets, the
white plumes, and the shining swords, but they need not think to turn
your brain with all their splendor."

"Brother Harry, I should like to see all those splendid things, but I
had much rather go and see Quady to-day; it is several days since I have
been there, and we have such good times! I love to talk with him
so well."

"You strange little creature, you can go to see the Indian any time."

"Yes, but some how I feel as if I would like to go to-day. I know he
will like to see me;" and the child was soon on her way to the "low
home," with Nep, who carried the pail of broth. As she drew near, she
saw that Quady was not sitting at his door, as he usually did, to watch
for her, but instead, the door was closed, and everything around was
still; nothing was heard, save the breakers as they dashed upon the
shore. Opening the door, which was never fast, she saw before her, the
form of poor Quady, stretched upon the rude bed, and as he tossed to and
fro, in an uneasy slumber, he muttered the words,--"pale-face--gone."

"Pale-face has come! Quady, Pale-face has come to you! Look up, and take
some of the nice broth which I have brought."

Slowly he opened his eyes, and seeing the little one was by his side, he
raised his hands aloft and said, "Me thank Great Spirit; me afraid Great
Spirit take me home without seeing little Pale-face once more. Me see my
brothers soon; a little while, and Pale-face come to see us. Great
Spirit bless little Pale-face," he feebly said; "she make poor
Quady happy."

With that dying blessing his spirit took its flight. He had passed away,
the last one of his kind, he who had lived a life of solitude, apart
from the world, looking upon the white man as having taken from him his
home, his lands, and the forests which would have been