How near she came to making the grand discovery the sequel will
show.
Instead of burying him with the murdered pig and cat, John had
scratched a shallow grave in the garden, and concealed the dead
brute.
After tea, Emilia requested to look at the garden; and I, perfectly
unconscious that it contained the remains of the murdered Chowder,
led the way. Mrs. - - whilst gathering a handful of fine green-peas,
suddenly stooped, and looking earnestly at the ground, called to me -
"Come here, Susanna, and tell me what has been buried here. It looks
like the tail of a dog."
She might have added, "of my dog." Murder, it seems, will out.
By some strange chance, the grave that covered the mortal remains
of Chowder had been disturbed, and the black tail of the dog was
sticking out.
"What can it be?" said I, with an air of perfect innocence. "Shall I
call Jenny, and dig it up?"
"Oh, no, my dear; it has a shocking smell, but it does look very
much like Chowder's tail."
"Impossible! How could it come among my peas?"
"True. Besides, I saw Chowder, with my own eyes, yesterday,
following a team; and George C - - hopes to recover him for me."
"Indeed! I am glad to hear it. How these mosquitoes sting. Shall we
go back to the house?"
While we returned to the house, John, who had overheard the whole
conversation, hastily disinterred the body of Chowder, and placed
him in the same mysterious grave with Tom and the pig.
Moodie and his friend finished logging-up the eight acres which the
former had cleared the previous winter; besides putting in a crop of
peas and potatoes, and an acre of Indian corn, reserving the fallow
for fall wheat, while we had the promise of a splendid crop of hay
off the sixteen acres that had been cleared in 1834. We were all in
high spirits and everything promised fair, until a very trifling
circumstance again occasioned us much anxiety and trouble, and was
the cause of our losing most of our crop.
Moodie was asked to attend a bee, which was called to construct a
corduroy-bridge over a very bad piece of road. He and J. E - - were
obliged to go that morning with wheat to the mill, but Moodie lent
his yoke of oxen for the work.
The driver selected for them at the bee was the brutal M - -y, a man
noted for his ill-treatment of cattle, especially if the animals did
not belong to him. He gave one of the oxen such a severe blow over
the loins with a handspike that the creature came home perfectly
disabled, just as we wanted his services in the hay-field and
harvest.
Moodie had no money to purchase, or even to hire a mate for the
other ox; but he and John hoped that by careful attendance upon the
injured animal he might be restored to health in a few days.
