"Dying! is it possible? And the poor creature seemed so much better this morning." A quavering, pitiful wail came to their ears, proceeding from a small white tent, half-hidden beneath the low-hanging boughs of the grove. That cry told the two men, plainer than spoken words, the sad truth. It told of a household broken and dismembered; of a bereaved husband and daughter, of a dearly-beloved wife and mother who had journeyed thus far from the home of her childhood, only to find a lone grave upon the prairie, or beside the rock-bound rivulet that wound its noisy way adown the valley.…
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