The cross which he wore was a very rich one, of stones set in gold, and very large; it was given to him, but by whom his friends never knew. This was all the ornament which he requested should be buried with him. It certainly was very remarkable that Red Jacket, after a life of sworn enmity to Christianity, should be so influenced by the unobtrusive example of his Christian wife, as to abjure Pagan rites and request Christian burial. But such was undoubtedly the case, as we are informed by Minnie Myrtle, who spent much time among the Iroquois, especially the Senecas, and got her information concerning "the closing scene" from the sachem's favorite stepdaughter. The wife and daughter were the only ones to whom he spoke parting words or gave a parting blessing; but as his last hour drew nigh, his family all gathered around him, and mournful it was to think that the children were not his own--his were all sleeping in the little churchyard where he was soon to be laid--they were his stepchildren--the children of his favorite wife. It has been somewhere stated that his first wife died before him, but this is a mistake; she was living at the time of his death. His last words were still, "Where is the missionary?" He then clasped the little girl, whom he loved so devotedly, to his bosom; while she sobbed in anguish her ears caught his hurried breathing--his arms relaxed their hold--she looked up, and he was gone. There was mourning in the household, and there was mourning among the people. The orator, the great man of whom they were still proud, while they lamented his degeneracy, was gone. He had been a true though mistaken friend, and who would take his place? All his requests were complied with strictly. The funeral took place in the little mission church, with appropriate but most simple ceremonies. In these the Pagans took but little interest. Wrapped in profound and solemn thought, they, however, waited patiently their termination. Some of them then arose, and successively addressed their countrymen in their own language. They recounted the exploits and the virtues of him whose remains they were now about to bear to his last home. They remembered his own prophetic appeal--"Who shall take my place among my people?" They thought of the ancient glory of their nation, and they looked around them on its miserable remnant. The contrast made their hearts sick, and tears trickled down their cheeks. Well might they weep! The strong warrior's arm was mouldering into dust, and the eye of the gifted orator was cold and motionless forever.