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."
The body was carefully lowered into the grave, and the others, one by
one, were placed beside it. It was a sight which haunted Lieutenant
Canfield for many a night--those black, upturned corpses--awful
evidences of the terrible passions of the Shawnees. The earth was
carefully deposited over them and the last sad rites performed.
The sun was now past the meridian, and the young soldier began to look
momentarily for the appearance of the Huron. An hour or two had
passed, when Cato spoke:
"Massa Canfield, 'tain't noways likely dat ar Injine will be along
afore dark. _Dat's_ de time dem critters likes to travel, so what's de
use ob our waitin' here so long. Oder Injines _mought_ be around dese
parts and wouldn't it be a good idee to git in de woods whar dey
wouldn't be so apt to see us?"
It struck the Lieutenant that there was some sense in the advice of the
negro; so he concluded to act upon it.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67