"Dunno; guess dar is dough. I'll see in a minute."
Cato ran some distance to where the charred remains of another building were heaped together, and searching among the ruins, brought forth a spade with a portion of the handle still left.
"What ye want to do dat ar?" he asked, as he brought it to the Lieutenant.
"We must bury those bodies, Cato. It would be wrong to deny them a decent burial when we possess the time and means."
Cato had a mortal horror of touching any creature that was dead, but more than once he had wished that the corpses were placed in the ground, although he had not the courage to put them there. He showed no reluctance now to the performance of his portion of the task.
"You know how to dig, I presume?" asked the Lieutenant.
"Yis, I offin dug wid dis berry same spade. Whar'd you want thar graves?"
"One grave will answer for the four, and this spot will do as well as any other."
The soldier gave the proper directions, and the negro commenced his labor at once. In an hour or two, he had hollowed out a grave, ready for the reception of the dead bodies. He could not conceal his repugnance to touching them, although he did not refuse to do so.
"Dat ar is poor Big Mose," said he, as they took hold of a Herculean negro, who had been brained by the keen tomahawk. "And he knowed the Injines war a-comin' a long time afore dey did. Poor Mose," he added, as the big tears trickled down his cheek, "he neber will eat any more big suppers or come de double-shuffle or de back-action-spring by moonlight. Poor feller! he had a big heel and knowed how to handle it."