We had earnestly hoped that Frederick's father would have arrived in time to see his boy's body before its burial, and for that reason we kept it twelve days packed in ice, and I wrote to him and sent money for his passage. But it was not so to be. The Manitoba arrived at midnight on Wednesday, the 28th of May, but instead of the father, came a letter from him full of expectancy and longing to see his loved son. This seemed to make it sadder still. The letter was dated May 12th; it was written evidently for him by some white man at the Post; and said that he was patiently waiting at Red Rock, with his son Muqua, for Frederick to return; it also enclosed money for the boy's passage on the steamboat. The day after I received this letter, we buried Frederick. I prepared a slab for his grave, on which were inscribed the words--"_Frederick Oshkahpukeda_, a boy from the wild regions of Lake Neepigon. Was baptized a Christian, Oct. 27th, 1878: and was taken home to his Saviour, May 17th, 1879;--aged fourteen." "'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.'" The Bishop read the service at the grave. Sometime after, I received the following touching letter from the poor pagan father; written for him by some friend who understood Indian. "_Red Rock, May_ 31_st_, 1879. DEAR SIR,--I learn that my poor boy is dead, so that our talk is dead, for I will not send any more of my children to the Home; but if you want to follow out the engagement you made then, put up a schoolhouse somewhere round here, so that our children may learn, for after what has happened I don't think that any of the Indians at Neepigon will let their children go to the Home. I don't think that we will be able to visit the grave of my poor boy. I would have been very glad if you could have sent the body in the steamer. I feel very sorry for what has happened, my heart is sore. I do not know what to do. Did not my poor boy say anything before he died? Surely he said something about his father! If so, let me know when you write. I do not blame anybody about the death of my boy, but I am most happy for the care you have taken with him. I want you to send me an alphabet, and a small book with words of two or three letters, about the school. I have nothing more to say at present. I am very sick at heart. My respects to you, and I hope to see you soon, or hear from you about my son's last words. I would like very much to know. Your sincere friend, OSHKAHPUKEDA. P.S.--Tell all the boys I send them my love; and the boy that he loved best I shall think him my son. Good-bye." * * * * *