He could not conceal his repugnance to touching them, although he did not refuse to do so.
"Dat ar is poor Big Mose," said he, as they took hold of a Herculean negro, who had been brained by the keen tomahawk.

"And he knowed the Injines war a-comin' a long time afore dey did.

Poor Mose," he added, as the big tears trickled down his cheek, "he neber will eat any more big suppers or come de double-shuffle or de back-action-spring by moonlight.

Poor feller! he had a big heel and knowed how to handle it." The body was carefully lowered into the grave, and the others, one by one, were placed beside it.

It was a sight which haunted Lieutenant Canfield for many a night--those black, upturned corpses--awful evidences of the terrible passions of the Shawnees.