God did it, said Betsy. He does all things well. He did it for the good of this child. That may be, replied Cahoonshee. Your old Bible says so. It speaks in thunder tones, that God works in a mysterious way his wonders to perform. But the girl cannot understand that. She can’t understand why in a day she is deprived of both her parents, and cast among strangers in this wilderness world. Blame her you must not—console her you cannot. Older and wiser heads cannot reconcile these things. But we must prepare to bury her. We can give the mother a christian burial, and then take care of her orphan child. A grave was dug on a rise of ground on top of the river bank. The body was wrapped in furs, and this little group of mourners walked to the house prepared for all living. Cahoonshee and the Senior Quick led the way; Tom and Drake followed, bearing the corpse on a roughly constructed litter; then came Amy, Betsy walking on one side of her and Rolla on the other. The grave is reached, the body is lowered and covered with green boughs, and Tom and Drake are about to perform the last offices to the dead, when Rolla raised his head, looked intently, whined, and sprang toward a tree. Instantly all eyes are turned in that direction. Walt! Walt! passionately exclaimed Amy, there is my Walt! Come Walt! Come and see Amy! Father dead—mother dead—none left but Walt and Rolla. Come kitty—kitty, come to Amy! There in a tree sat the white cat that had been seen on the raft, but owing to the excitement of the occasion, had been forgotten. Hearing her name called, she slowly came down the tree. Thus, another was added to the list of mourners. The grave was filled, the mound erected, when Cahoonshee said: This is nature’s decree. “Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” Let us return to the house. And setting the example he walked away. But Amy refused to go. Throwing herself on her mother’s grave, she cried: Oh! my own dear mother, I cannot, I will not leave you! Oh! let me die here; let me lay by your side. Who will love and look after me now? Rolla looked up into her face—the cat mewed and nestled more closely to her bosom. Leave her to her own thoughts, and that of her friends, said Cahoonshee looking back. But Drake lingered. The scene put him in mind that he too once had a mother. That he too had been torn from her. That he too, by circumstances over which he had no control, had been thrown among strangers. And, as he saw the tears flow down Amy’s cheeks, moisture came in his own eyes. Come Amy, come with me. I will be your brother and friend. Amy raised her eyes to those of her friend and said: Brother, you are good to think of me—you are good to promise to look after me. But who can look after me like my own dear mother that is now buried out of my sight?