“There has been nothing saved,” said the Lieutenant, looking around and speaking apparently to himself.

“Noffin’ but dis poor nigger, and I don’t know what will become of him now dat he’s all alone,” said Cato, with a woe-begone demeanor.

“Have no anxiety upon that account.  You shall be attended to.  Captain Prescott and all his family are living, and, depend upon it, you will not suffer if he can prevent it.”

“But de house am gone—­de horses—­de corns—­eberyt’ing but me.”

The young soldier continued musing for a moment and then asked: 

“How far from here is the settlement to which Mrs. Prescott has gone?”

“Ten, fifteen or forty miles.”

“Can’t you tell me more precisely than that?”

“Somewhere atween ten and forty or fifty—­dat’s all I can tell.”

“Have you ever been there yourself?”

“Offin—­horseback.”

“You know the way?”

“Jes’ as well as did from de house to de barn.”

“How would you like to go there?”

“What! alone?” asked Cato, the old look of terror coming back to his countenance.

“Certainly—­you have been there and back you said, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but bress your soul! de Injines wan’t about den.”

“I guess there were as many as there are this minute.”

“Oh! gracious!  I don’t want to go alone.  What made ye ax me dat queshun?”

“Why, I thought this, Cato.  You see I expect Oonomoo to return to this place by nightfall, when I intend to accompany him to the Shawnee village where Miss Mary is held captive——­”

“Goin’ to git her?”

“We hope to.  I was going to propose that you should make your way to the settlement and carry the news of this sad affair to Mrs. Prescott and her daughter, assuring her that the Huron and myself will do all we can to rescue Mary.  They must have seen the light, last night, and no doubt are dreadfully anxious to learn whether it was their mansion or not.  Besides, I doubt whether the Huron will be willing that you should accompany us.”

“Why won’t he?  I guess Cato knows enough to take care of his self.  Allus has done it.  Done it last night.”

“We will let the matter rest until his return.  It shall be as he says.”

“What time ’spect him?”

“In the course of a few hours.  In the meantime, there is another matter that must be attended to.  Do you know whether there is a spade or shovel lying about?”

“Dunno; guess dar is dough.  I’ll see in a minute.”

Cato ran some distance to where the charred remains of another building were heaped together, and searching among the ruins, brought forth a spade with a portion of the handle still left.

“What ye want to do dat ar?” he asked, as he brought it to the Lieutenant.

“We must bury those bodies, Cato.  It would be wrong to deny them a decent burial when we possess the time and means.”