I hastened up the hill and swept and scraped the snow out from between the rocks, making a bed of twigs on the hard earth. But it was no light task getting the great form of our brother up that steep slope, and more than once it seemed I must give up. But at last I did get him lying snugly between the two huge stones. Then I made a roof over him by laying heavy branches across the rocks, on top of the branches placing such heavy stones as I could loosen from the hard ground. In this manner I also closed up the end of my brother's death _Kammer_, and to help me find the spot, should I have call to revisit it, I rolled a large stone at the upper end of the little vault, and after a last prayer for the soul of our sainted brother, I left, sad at heart, but rejoicing I had been able to do these last honors for our dead. It was dark when I started down the mountains and so rough and slippery was the way I had many a fall ere I reached the foot; but the longest and most toilsome way hath nevertheless an end, and though the night was well on when I reached my cell, I arrived none the less, safe and sound, only that our brethren were greatly alarmed at my absence, fearing I too had been captured by the Indians. At the midnight meeting I recounted to my brethren the doings of the day, the death of Brother Alburtus, but not saying anything of his last words, requesting rather consideration as to what should be done with his body. As the greater part of us thought nothing could be done while the way was so rough and slippery with rocks and snow, we decided to let our brother rest for the time at least in his strange grave; but we held special services in his memory and in his cell we hung, as was our custom, a tablet, on which were inscribed in beautiful letters by the Sisterhood the words: "Blessed in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." CHAPTER XXII SONNLEIN TAKETH THE ORDEAL There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio. --Shakespeare. Over a month had passed away since the death of our Brother Alburtus and his lonely burial far up in the mountain. My brethren, though at first of a mind to bring him to our little graveyard in the meadow, at last reluctantly came to my way of thinking that he should be left to rest undisturbed where I had laid him.