“No, Town.,” she replied, “I had reference to something else. I will tell you what it is another time.”
Town. was a little mystified, still he was too thoughtful of her wishes to insist on an explanation, and so he said nothing more on the subject.
It was past noon when the cabin of Talbott Taft was reached. They found the old trader at home in a state of great excitement, occasioned, he said, by the absence of his daughter.
Town. told him that he had bad news for him, and proceeded to break it to him as gently as possible.
A wail burst from the old man’s lips, and staggering he sunk heavily into a chair.
In a few moments the savages bearing the litters filed into the cabin and placed the bodies before the old man, who fell upon his knees and wept bitterly over the body of Madge.
Our friends and the savages went out into the yard and left the mourner alone with his dead, and when his lamentations had ceased, Old Tumult went back to the door and asked:
“Is thar enny thing, Mr. Taft, that we kin do fur you?”
A wail of sorrow burst anew from the trader’s lips and it was several moments before he gained calmness to reply.
“Nothing, Tumult, nothing, unless you help me to bury my dead.”