could get over dead Indians in door, ran away among trees, and was
frightened to come out again till all pale faces went away. Felt very
cold when pale faces went away, wandered back to burnt house, found the
blankets, returned with them to woods, got down against tree, put
blankets over feet and legs, and remember no more till my Paul woke me
next day."

As Paul Guidon related his mother's story his face was bathed in tears.
Mrs. Godfrey attentively listened, and at the same time carefully
watched every feature of old Mag's face. When Paul had finished his
mother's story, Margaret Godfrey gently raised old Mag's head, and
bending over it said, "Poor old Mag this is indeed you." The dying
Indian woman tried in vain to move her lips, while her body seemed
convulsed. She then stretched herself out at full length and a slight
tremor passed over her frame, her chin dropped.

Mrs. Godfrey looked up at Paul, who was standing at the foot of the bed,
and remarked, "Paul your dear old mother is gone, forever gone." The
Indian without replying then threw himself upon the bed and lay
motionless beside the body of his mother. In a short time he began to
weep and moan, which he continued to do so long and piteously, that
Margaret thought his sorrowing heart would burst. At last completely
exhausted with grief he remained quiet and passive as though his spirit
too had passed over to the green fields and still waters of the
everlasting hunting grounds.

Margaret gazed upon the quiet features and still form of the handsome
young Iroquois, he was in the vigour of his manhood, being scarcely
twenty-four years old; and said, as she admired his manly look, "Paul,
your mother is happier now;" "she is in that land where trials, trouble