“The body having been removed outside, and the doors secured as well as, under the circumstances, could be done, one of the warriors cut from a tree in the adjacent wood, a semi-circular piece of tough and flexible bark, about six feet in length, and in the hollow of this, the murdered father of Maria Heywood, already swathed tightly in a blanket, was placed.  A long pole was then passed through the equi-distant loops of cord that encircled the whole, and two of the Indians having, with the assistance of their companions, raised it upon their shoulders, it was thus borne—­the parties being relieved at intervals—­over the two long miles of road that led to the skirt of the woods near the encampment.  Here the body of Indians stopped, while Waunangee and myself repaired to the tent of his father, who no sooner had heard detailed by his son the account of my Winnebago killing practice of the preceding evening, than he overwhelmed me with congratulations, and looked proudly on the knife, still stained with a spot or two of blood, which I returned to him, and which he restored to its usual resting-place on his hip.

“Perceiving that Winnebeg was, like his young men, ready to do any thing for me.  I explained to him my desire to convey the body of Mr. Heywood across the river, and bury him secretly in his own grounds, but that it was necessary, in order to do this effectually, that he and his son should go with me, and by some circuitous route.  Entering at once into my views, he said he would show me a place where we could cross without being seen either from the Fort or from his own encampment, and then led the way back to the wood where the party were still waiting.

“The rest is soon told.  Dismissing the young men into the encampment.  Winnebeg, with his son, bore the body within the skirt of the wood, until we reached a bend of the river hidden from observation, where a canoe with paddles was drawn up on the beach.  There we crossed, and going round to the rear of the cottage, entered the garden, and proceeded to the upper end, where at the summer house, near a favorite rose-tree of Maria’s, I dug with my own hands a hasty grave, in which Winnebeg and Waunangee placed the body—­its only coffin being the bark that was swathed around it.  Of course I always intended to disinter it at some future, but not distant period, and bestow upon it the usual rites of burial.

“This painful task accomplished, and the soil having been carefully replaced, so as to leave no inequality of surface, I accompanied my friends back by the same route, and about nine o’clock left the Pottawattamie encampment with them and a few other warriors of the tribe for the Fort, which in the crowd I entered without difficulty or creating suspicion.  Watching my opportunity, I stole to the rear of my bed-room—­opened and entered the window—­ changed my dress, and made my appearance on parade as you saw.”

“All is ready, sir,” said Sergeant Nixon, entering just as he had concluded, and before Elmsley could offer any remark on this singular adventure—­“the coffin is in the scow, and Corporal Collins, Green and Philips are there also with their shovels, ropes, and picks.  If Mr. Elmsley will give me permission,” and he touched his cap to that officer.  “I will go too, sir.”