Yes, she replied, mother did all she could for me while living. Now that she is dead, I will visit her and her grave. I shall keep the flowers fresh and the grass green on her grave as long as I can. Won’t you help me Drake? Certainly, he replied. What can I do for you? You can help me build a wall around the grave. Down where mother came from, they build a wall around the graves, and set a stone with the name on it. I want to do so by mama’s grave, and Rolla and I will come to see it every day. Yes, replied Drake, Tom and I will build the wall, and Cahoonshee will set the stone. Come sister, go to the house with me. It is breakfast time. After breakfast, Tom and I will build the wall. Amy was reluctant to leave the place that contained all that was dear to her. Drake unconsciously put his arm around her. Come Amy, you still have friends. There are those that love you. At breakfast, little or nothing was said. Amy ate a hearty breakfast, and seemed to be reconciled to her lot. She was then informed of the conclusion that had been arrived at night before—that she was to live with them until her friends could be found—that they would return to their farm at Milford in a few days, and that she was to go with them. Amy scarcely knew what to do or say. She did not want to leave her mother’s grave so soon. She wished to be where she could make it daily visits and keep the grass green. I would rather stay here with you, she said. You have been very good to me and mother. Let me stay here and keep house for the boys, at the same time glancing at Drake. The boys go with us, replied the elder Quick. Then I will go, but I want the wall built around the grave before I go. That shall be done to-day, said Drake. Come and tell me how you want it built. May I call you brother? said Amy. Yes, he replied, and I shall be proud to have such a brave sister, and involuntarily he placed his arm around Amy’s waist, and they walked to the grave in silence. Tom followed, and a wall was soon laid around the ground that enclosed the sacred dead, and in a few days Cahoonshee erected a stone on which was inscribed “Here lies Mary, the mother of Amy Powers.” In a few days they went to live on the Milford farm. But Tom was seldom at home. He did not like school or books. He seemed to like the company of the Indians better than he did his father’s home, and hunted and fished with them until he acquired their language and habits. Not so with Drake. He employed every opportunity to acquire knowledge and improve his mind, and would listen for hours to Cahoonshee, as he recited history, science and tradition. Amy was now just blooming into womanhood, being nearly sixteen years old, with a tall and commanding figure, with auburn hair and dark blue eyes, cheeks the color of a peach-blossom. Her hair hanging in ringlets over her shoulders, her eyes sparkled, and were a fair index to her mind. Lively, and like the most of her sex—talkative.