CHAPTER XVIII.
A STRANGE FUNERAL.
Frank found the saddle-bags and the belt about the dead man's waistheavy with gold. It took him some time to make preparations fortransporting the precious stuff, and it was no easy task for him toquiet his horse and induce the animal to stand while he lifted thecorpse and placed it where it could be tied securely on the horse'sback.
He had no thought of leaving the body of Benson Clark to be devoured bywolves and vultures.
The sun was resting close down to the blue tops of the western mountainswhen everything was ready to start.
The dog had watched every move with eyes full of singular intelligence,but made no move or sound until Merry was ready to go.
Then Frank turned more water from the canteen, after taking a fewswallows himself, placing it before Boxer in the tin plate. The doglicked it up.
"Good Boxer!" said Merry, patting the beast's head. "I'm your masternow, my boy. Your other master is dead. He has told you to stick to me.Did you understand?"
The dog made some strange swallowing and mumbling sounds in its throat,as if trying to talk back in words.
"By Jove!" said Merry, gazing at the creature with great interest. "Youare a knowing fellow, and you actually try to talk. Your master fanciedyou might be taught to talk."
Again those strange swallowings and mumblings issued from the dog'sthroat, and the creature wagged its tail a little.
"We'll go now," said Frank. "It's a good distance to the mine, and wehave something to do before we can set out in earnest."
So they started off, Frank leading the horse bearing the ghastly burden,while the dog walked behind with hanging head, the perfect picture ofsorrow.
A strange funeral procession it was, making its way toward the settingsun and the hazy mountains. The dead horse was left behind, while far inthe sky wheeled two black specks, buzzards waiting for the feast.
The Indians had long vanished from the face of the plain, yet Frank knewtheir nature, and he was not at all sure he had seen the last of them.
The sun vanished behind the mountains and the blue night lay soft andsoothing on the hot plain when the funeral procession came into thefoot-hills.
It was not Frank's intention to carry the dead man farther than wasneedful, and, therefore, he kept his eyes about him for some place tobestow the body where it might rest safe from prowling beasts.
This place he found at last, and, with the aid of a flat stone, and withhis bare hands, he scooped a shallow grave. Into this the body wasfitted. Over the man's face Frank spread his own handkerchief. Then hebesprinkled the dry earth lightly over the body at first, afterwardusing the flat rock to scrape and shovel more upon it, ending withcovering it heavily with such stones as he could find, knowing well withwhat skill the ravening beasts of the desert could use their claw-armedpaws.
For a time the dog sat and watched everything. When his late master wasplaced in the grave he whined and cried softly; but when the body wascovered he lay down beside the grave in silence, and there was in hisposture something so heartbroken that Frank was moved to a great pity.
"Poor old Boxer!" he murmured. "It is the end to which all living thingsmust come, each in its own time. But it is the law of nature, and it isnot so bad, after all. Blessed is he who goes to his last deep sleepwithout fear, feeling that he has done his best and is willing to trusteverything in the hands of Him who sees and knows all. The fear of deathand what may follow is such as should trouble alone the coward or thewicked wretch. Boxer, your master seemed to pass without fear, andsomething tells me it is not so bad with him. His case is in the handsof the Great Judge, and we may rest sure that he will be done no wrong."
Was there ever such a strange funeral oration! A youth with bared headand solemn face, speaking above a grave, and a silent, grief-strickendog as the only mourner and attendant! The still Arizona night allaround, with no sound of humming insect, no stir of foliage, no whisperof moving breeze, the dome of heaven above, studded with millions ofclear stars! The dog did not move or lift its head, but Frank saw thestarshine glint upon his eyes, which were wide open and fastened uponthe speaker.
When the work was completed Frank knelt for a moment beside that grave,praying softly, yet with an earnestness that bespoke his faith that hiswords were heard.
It was over. His horse was at a little distance. He went and brought theanimal up and adjusted the saddle. The dead man's belt, stuffed tobursting and wondrous heavy, he had fastened about his own waist.
"Come, Boxer," he said, again stooping to pat the head of the dog. "Wemust go. Bid farewell to your master's grave. It's not likely you mayever again come beside it."
The dog stirred. He sat up and lifted his muzzle toward the stars. Fromhis throat came a low note that rose and swelled to the most dolefulsound imaginable.
With his blood chill in his body, Frank listened while the dog sang arequiem above that grave. Tears started from Merry's eyes, and neverwhile life was his could he forget that sound and that sight. Neverchanted words of mass had more of sorrow! No human tongue could speakgreater grief.
At last the sound died away into silence, and the dog stood on allfours, with hanging head and tail, his muzzle kissing some of the roughstones heaped on that grave. How long he might have remained in thatattitude cannot be said; but soon Frank spoke again and called him tofollow. At the word he turned, and his manner denoted he was ready.
Merry swung into the saddle and started, looking over his shoulder. Indead silence, the dog followed.
And so they passed into the still night.
Frank Merriwell's Backers; Or, The Pride of His Friends Page 20
