A look of fervent gratitude passed over the face of the widow; then arising, solemnly, she covered her face in her hands, and slowly walked away. Esther would have accompanied her, but Waltermyer laid his hand on her arm, and whispered:
“Let her go alone. To-night she will watch by the grave. It’s a part of their religion, I allow. And now you go to sleep, while I watch.”
“No, I! He watched me when I slept last night; why should I not do the same for him when he so much needs my care?”
“Waal, it’s woman’s business to take care of the sick, I s’pose; but you don’t look over strong. Thar hain’t many roses a-blossomin’ on your cheeks, but they will come again in time; and you couldn’t take care of a braver or a better one, if you war to search the world over.”
“You know him, then?—tell me his history.”
Waltermyer obeyed her, and revealed all that he knew of the wounded man.
The night passed, and with it all apparent danger; for now Osse ’o was able to sit up and converse.
“Why does Waupee stay so long?” asked Esther, whose true womanly heart had sorrowed deeply as she thought of the Indian widow sitting by that lonely grave in the dark hours.
“I will go and see,” replied Waltermyer.
“And I, if our patient can spare us for a moment,” said Esther, with a smile that would have amply repaid the semi-Indian for a far more dangerous wound.