It was a scene to melt the hardest heart; that little child, scarcely as
high as the rude couch, reaching up to close the eyes of him whom she
should see no more. As she sat by his side, and looked around the room
where she had spent so many happy hours, a sense of loneliness crept
over her. There was the pipe which he had smoked, laid away on the
little chimney-piece, and by the bed-side was the pail of broth with
which she had thought to please him so much; and at the remembrance she
burst into tears, and her tears fell upon the hand of him who lay
sleeping. Neptune, hearing the sad tones of his mistress, came and
looked into her face; and when she took no notice of him, he crouched at
her feet, and howled piteously. And thus they found them, for the little
one could not think of leaving her dear Quady there alone. They buried
him, as he had wished, by the side of his brothers; and when the
Sea-flower gazed into that narrow house, so dark and still, she looked
up and said, "Mother, I shall love to look at the stars oftener now, for
he has gone to live among those bright and shining ones." Sadly did the
child miss her visits to the "low home," and when in years to come her
thoughts wandered over the past, her love for the poor lone Indian had
not diminished. The stars shone brighter and brighter, even as her light
was "shining unto the perfect day."

"What little missy look up in de sky so much for?" asked Vingo, as he
walked by the shore, with Sea-flower in his arms, as was his custom of a
bright moonlit evening.

"O, Vingo, it is so beautiful! I was watching those fleecy clouds, until
they seemed to be little waves in which the stars were sailing upward,
up, and as they looked back to us, their smile seemed to grow purer; and
I think I can see Quady among them. Don't you see him, Vingo?"