When Jimmy came up from the river, they slipped short lengths of pole under the coffin, and rolled it to the door. Outside the house, since there was nothing in the nature of wheels at Blackburn’s Post, they hitched an old horse directly to the coffin, and dragged it at a slow pace over the grass down hill to the river. Jimmy led the horse, while Loseis and Mary-Lou walked behind, steadying the coffin with ropes affixed to each side. During this part of the journey Loseis was all child. Every time the coffin [word missing in original] over an unevenness her heart was in her mouth. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried involuntarily; and her agonized eyes seemed to add: “My darling! did that hurt you?”
At the river edge they worked the coffin onto the raft with rollers and short lengths of plank; and Loseis draped the Post flag upon it, and placed the green wreath. Jimmy and Mary-Lou propelled the raft across with long poles, while the slender, black-clad figure of Loseis stood looking down at the coffin like a symbolical figure of Bereavement. In her grief-drowned eyes there was a look of piteous pride, too; for the black coffin with its flag and green wreath looked beautiful.
The smooth brown river moved down in silky eddies; the freshly budded greens of poplar and willow made the shores lovely, backed by the grave, unchanging tones of the evergreens. Behind them the low, solid buildings of the Post crouched on the bench above the river with a sort of human dignity; before them rose the steep grassy promontory with the waiting grave on top. Over their heads smiled the Northern summer sky of an enchanting tenderness of blue that is not revealed to lower latitudes.
Landing upon the further shore they caught another horse—there was no lack of horses at Blackburn’s Post. In order to drag the coffin up the rough, steep hill it was necessary to construct a travois of poles to lift the front end clear of the ground. The horse was fastened between the poles as between shafts. At the top of the hill Loseis had removed the palings; and the new grave yawned beside the old one. She had dug the shallow hole with sloping ends, that the horse might walk right through, leaving his burden in its place.
The animal was then liberated; and Loseis stood on one side, prayer-book in hand, with Jimmy Moosenose and Mary-Lou facing her on the other. It was a meagerly attended burial for the great lord of that country. Loseis read the noble prayers in a grave voice charged with emotion. The sound of it caused the tears to run silently down the smooth cheeks of Mary-Lou; but Jimmy merely looked uncomfortable. The feelings of white people were strange to him. He had given his master a doglike devotion while he lived; but he was dead now, and that was an end to it.
“Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live and is full of misery,” read the brave young voice. “He cometh up and is cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. In the midst of life we are in death; of whom may we seek for succour but of Thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased?”
When she came to the end of the service, Loseis dropped the book and involuntarily broke into an extempore prayer, standing with straight back and lifted face like an Indian, her arms at her sides. Her words were hardly couched in the same humble strain as those of the book; but the passionate sincerity of the speaker redeemed them from irreverence.
“O God, this is my father. He was a strong man, God, and you must make allowances for him. You gave him a proud heart and a terrible anger when he was crossed, and it would not be fair to judge him like common men. He could have done anything he wanted here, because he was the master, but he was always square. Every season he paid the Indians half as much again for their fur as the Company would pay, and that is why the Company traders spoke evil of him. He was hard and stern to the Indians, but that was the only thing they could understand. How else could you deal with a tribe of slaves? Be merciful to my father, O God! for he would never ask mercy for himself; and let him see my mother again, for that was all he wanted. Amen.”
Jimmy Moosenose picked up the spade with a businesslike air, and threw a clod on the coffin. At the dreadful sound that it gave forth, a sharp cry broke from Loseis. She wrapped her arms about her head and fled away down the hill.