The cart was halted before the enclosure; and rejecting the offers of
assistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayed
throughout, Tennessee's Partner lifted the rough coffin on his back and
deposited it, unaided, within the shallow grave. He then nailed down
the board which served as a lid; and mounting the little mound of
earth beside it, took off his hat, and slowly mopped his face with his
handkerchief. This the crowd felt was a preliminary to speech; and they
disposed themselves variously on stumps and boulders, and sat expectant.

"When a man," began Tennessee's Partner, slowly, "has been running free
all day, what's the natural thing for him to do? Why, to come home. And
if he ain't in a condition to go home, what can his best friend do?
Why, bring him home! And here's Tennessee has been running free, and we
brings him home from his wandering." He paused, and picked up a fragment
of quartz, rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve, and went on: "It ain't
the first time that I've packed him on my back, as you see'd me now.
It ain't the first time that I brought him to this yer cabin when he
couldn't help himself; it ain't the first time that I and 'Jinny' have
waited for him on yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home,
when he couldn't speak, and didn't know me. And now that it's the last
time, why"--he paused and rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve--"you
see it's sort of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen," he added,
abruptly, picking up his long-handled shovel, "the fun'l's over; and my
thanks, and Tennessee's thanks, to you for your trouble."

Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill in the grave,
turning his back upon the crowd that after a few moments' hesitation
gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy
Bar from view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee's
Partner, his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between his