BY THE BROOKSIDE. 307

into the: place of the Blessed ; because they had owned
their faults—because they had believed in the name of
the Son of God—because they had hoped in His mercy.

They listened with rapt attention to all this. The
future is a subject full of charm to the living, even
although he be doomed to be soon numbered with the
dead. The deep interest man takes in what is to come
after him is of itself an evidence of his immortality.
Klatsassan seemed the most interested in this contempla-
tion. He sat motionless, his great eyes fixed upon me.
As the conversation went on, there came a light into
them ; it was the light of hope for his country ; a light
kindled amid the darkness of his own despair. For him
there was nothing more, nothing left him here. The
world was over and done with. He must quit it on the
morrow. But he was resigned. And now to hear of
these glad tidings for his land, was a blessed solace to
his soul. It made him feel stronger in his spirit to
listen to the things which God should do unto his people
in the latter days.

XIIt.
THE LAST MORNING.

THE morning of October 26th broke bright and frosty.
With that feeling of heart-sickness which those know
who have had to approach the King of Terrors, and stand
by when, with all its fearful ceremonial, the law puts
forth its hand deliberately and violently to take away
life, I rose and hastened to the prison. The Indians were
already at their prayers. I, stood waiting outside the
cell, listening to their plaintive notes of supplication.
The wailing pathos of their language seemed to come
out in those last prayers, as in a monotone. Is this,
then, the natural expression of deep religious feeling ?
In a monotone they poured their plaint before the only
friend of the departing. The voice of the chief was
heard above the rest, in its deep, subdued tones. Never
more (I thought) shall he pray those prayers on earth.
Soon—within two brief hours, he shall have gone hence
—gone to join the penitent thief, and the Magdalene,
and all the innumerable company of souls, who, having
sinned much, have also been forgiven much.

I then entered the cell, and asked if they were ready
to receive the Holy Communion? They said they were
most desirous. They had all fasted since sun-down. In
celebrating, I said the principal parts of the service in
their language; the rest in English. This, of course,
they did not understand, but they knew the general
meaning. They were very devout in receiving, and seemed
cheered and encouraged by the Sacrament.

After the service, the prisoners took breakfast, and then
the gaoler called them out, one by one, to be pinioned.
As they went I shook hands with each one, bidding
them farewell. First went young Pierre, who wept a
little, thinking, no doubt, of his young wife and child at
home. Then there was Chesuss, now a changed man,
| his face no longer so fiendishly hideous as at first, but

the light of faith. The rest followed. Klatsassan was
| the last to leave.

He grasped me warmly by the hand, and thanked me.
| I said he was my son, and I should ever remember him
and pray for him; and that we should meet again in a
place where we should understand each other better and
zeed no interpreter. I encouraged him to keep a stout

softened and beautified with at least some glimmering of'|

heart and think of Christ, and lean on Him, and soon
the worst would be over; then I gave him the blessing
of the Church, and let him go.

I forget what happened immediately after this, but
I suppose I was talking to one of them, outside the cell ;
however, the next thing I noticed was some one offering
Klatsassan drink, and him refusing. J don’t think he
saw me looking, or that he refused the liquor from any
notion save a sense of the impropriety of the thing, and
a heroic kind of feeling—as if he thought it nobler to
meet the worst with all his faculties about him, and face
his doom manfully, They pressed him to take something,
but there I felt I must interpose. They must not press
him, I said; whereon the executioner made the remark,
more forcible than elegant, that he, Klatsassan, was plucky,
and had the heart of a bullock. Notwithstanding this
encomium, he showed more signs of physical weakness on
the scaffold than the rest—probably owing to the want of
the stimulant. Yet I can well think that now the man
is thankful that he refused that dram, although, for want
of it, alone of all the five he trembled a little on that
gallows-tree,

The prisoners were then led on to the scaffold. There
was a large crowd of Indians and white men round, but
perfect silence and decorum reigned throughout ; prayers
were then said in Chilcoaten; very short, of course ; such
is not the time or place for more than a brief com-
mendation of the souls about to depart. I remember
saying to each one, as in turn they were blindfolded,
and the rope adjusted and they were placed on the drops,
Jesu Christ nerhunschita sincha coontese. “ Jesus
Christ be with thy spirit.” As I was going to repeat
this to Taloot, a voice was heard; it was Tapect. He
first called out to his comrades to “have courage.”
Then he spoke two sentences to the Indians round the
scaffold. They were of the Alexandrian tribe, and at
feud with the Chilcoatens. Still in such a moment such
feelings must be forgotten. So he addressed himself to
them, and said: “ell the Chilcoatens to cease anger
against the whites.” We added, “ We are going to see
the Great Father.”

One instant more, and the signal was given; the
drops fell, and the five immortal spirits, driven from their
quivering bodies, went forth into the wide, dark night.
All was done so quietly, and so quickly, that it was
difficult to realize that the frightful work was over.

The remains were interred with Christian burial, after
the Anglican rites, in a wood near Quesnelmouth, not
far from the Cariboo-road. A wooden cross with a rude
inscription was set up to mark the spot where those poor
fellows sleep.

BY THE BROOKSIDE.
=) ADING in the brook, pillaging its produce,
crowning one’s self with its flowers, upon
a@ warm summers day, while the cows
stand knee-deep in the water a little way
off, swishing their tails, and trying to
believe that they succeed in dispersing the flies that buzz
incessantly round their heads—what a picture and parable
of childhood it is !

The mowers have paused in their work among the hay,
and you hear the sharp sound of the whetting of their

X 2