far different fate, singly his conflict with ten armed men—­he is shot, and his death is coldly ascribed to his “obstinacy.”  Had the Indian tamely permitted his wife to have been carried away from him—­had he without feeling or emotion witnessed the separation of the mother from her infant child, then indeed little sympathy would have been felt for him—­and yet it is precisely because he did show that he possessed feelings common to us all, and without the possession of which man becomes more degraded than the brute, that he was shot.  Thus perished the ill-fated husband of poor Mary March, and she herself, from the moment when her hand was touched by the white man, became the child of sorrow, a character which never left her, until she became shrouded in an early tomb.  Among her tribe she was known as “De mas do weet,”—­her husband’s name was “No nos baw sut.”

In an official report Mary March is described as a young woman of about twenty-three years of age—­of a gentle and interesting disposition, acquiring and retaining without any difficulty any words she was taught.  She had one child, who, as was subsequently ascertained, died a couple of days after its mother’s capture.  Mary March was first taken to Twillingate, where, she was placed under the care of the Revd.  Mr. Leigh, Episcopal Missionary, who, upon the opening of the season, came with her to St. John’s.  She never recovered from the effects of her grief at the death of her husband—­her health rapidly declined, and the Government, with the view of restoring her to her tribe, sent a small sloop-of-war with her to the northward, with orders to her Commander to proceed to the summer haunts of the Indians; from this attempt, however, he returned unsuccessful.  Captain Buchan, in the Grashopper, was subsequently sent to accomplish the same object.  He left St. John’s in September, 1819, for the Exploits, but poor Mary March died on board the vessel at the mouth of the river.  Captain Buchan had her body carried up the lake, where he left it in a coffin, in a place where it was probable her tribe would find her,—­traces of Indians were seen while the party was on its way up,—­and in fact, although unaware of it, Captain Buchan and his men were watched by a party of Indians, who that winter were encamped on the river Exploits, and when they observed Captain Buchan and his men pass up the river on the ice, they went down to the sea coast, near the mouth of the river, and remained there a month; after that they returned, and saw the footsteps of Captain Buchan’s party made on their way down the river.  The Indians, then, by a circuitous route, went to the lake, and to the spot where the body of Mary March was left—­they opened the coffin and took out the clothes that were left with her.  The coffin was allowed to remain suspended as they found it for a month, it was then placed on the ground, where, it remained two months; in the spring they removed the body to the burial place which they had built for her husband, placing her by his side.