then, as if this last humble request had completely shattered her
nerves, she tottered, an almost lifeless wreck, out into the moonlit
night.

None of us uttered a single word, it seemed we had been stunned by the
solemnity of the poor widow's request, but we opened the bunk house door
to see that no harm befell her upon her trip back to the "big" house. To
our surprise, instead of going to the section house she tottered over to
where Foreman McDonald lay buried, and we saw her pray long and
earnestly by the little mound that held his remains; then she arose and
wearily dragged herself to the place by the railroad track where little
Helen's garments had been found, and here once more she sank upon her
knees in prayer, and then staggered back towards the "big" house,
where, just before she entered the gate of the fence surrounding the
yard, she knelt a third time to utter a prayer. While we silently stood
and watched and pitied the poor broken-hearted woman, she heavily keeled
over. We rushed to her side to give her assistance, and found she had
fainted away, but in her unconsciousness she muttered the words "Joe"
and "Jim", and we readily understood for whom her last farewell prayer
had been offered.

We carried her into the section house where we revived her, and then we
returned to the bunk house and until late into the night sawed, hammered
and whittled those two crude crosses into shape, supposing Mrs. McDonald
intended to take them with her into Canada, to keep as a memento of her
sad experiences.

In the morning after we had been served with breakfast, we handed her
the crosses which we had carefully wrapped in paper so that upon her
journey their ominous outlines would not recall unpleasant memories and