“While I prepare a bed, wilt thou make a fire?” said the mother. It was soon done, and Earth and the mother, bearing along the Indian boy, placed him on the rude couch prepared for his reception. While these little arrangements were making, Rolfe, overpowered by disappointment, and the rush of feelings which crowded upon his mind, had left the lodge, and afterward Earth having joined him, they withdrew to a short distance. “Earth, what thinkest thou of the scene we have just witnessed?” “Indeed, I know not what to think. I am glad, however, she was not the maiden we seek.” “I scarcely know whether I am or not,” said Rolfe, “if she had been the same, her sufferings would now have been ended, and I should have performed the last sad office she could have required from man. As it is, I shall no more see her, and if she has not already writhed at the stake, pain and suffering, and a broken heart will be her fate.” “It is sad,” said Earth, “think of it as you will; all hope for the present is gone, and when we leave here, my advice is that we make for the settlements, and by mingling with men, try and forget the past.” “It is well to do so; but, Earth, did you ever know so many sad events to occur in so short a time? The scene last night, I shall never forget.—Yet, what can be more startling than the one this morning?” “I have witnessed many sad scenes, Rolfe, and so must every one who lives as long as I have in these woods. I have seen the suffering of years packed into a few short minutes, and yet I must confess, nothing has ever come over me with more icy coldness than the fate of that gal.” “She is young and beautiful,” said Rolfe, “and, oh! the intense anguish she must have suffered! Did you see how her feet were torn, and bruised by travel? and it seemed to me, that in addition to her other sufferings, she died of hunger. But who is she? and where did she come from?” “Even the mother can't tell that,” said Earth. “She has been taken captive by the Ingens, and made her escape, or else wandering off from some emigrant family, was lost.” “Then she is gone,” said Rolfe, “and there is no possible clue by which we can trace her history; and I was about to say, she died, and there was no friend to see her buried; but, though strangers to her, Earth, we are friends in misfortune, and her last sad rites shall be performed by us, as brothers would do it over an affectionate sister.” Earth's eyes filled with tears,—he spoke not. “Come, we must perform the last duty,” said Rolfe, “let us select a spot for her grave.” “I hate,” said Earth, “to leave one so young alone in a wilderness, and among strangers;—even her little spirit will be afraid to go abroad, lest it should meet a red skin.” “Her spirit, I hope, is in heaven,” said Rolfe, “and though I regret the duty we are now to perform, still, since it must be done, let us begin.”