In such moments they stand motionless, one by the mutilated head, the other at the feet.

They look neither at each other nor at it, for if they should attempt it tears would be sure to come to their eyes.

Without a word they lift up the body again, tenderly as if it were a child's, and on they go, slowly, painfully, and silently.
It is night now, and the forest is more full of life.

The dread voices of the darkness are heard around them; coyotes howl and whine; in the distance owls hiss and shriek and flit from tree to tree, as the panting men approach.

They think not of danger, not even of those who so ruthlessly slaughtered their great and good maseua; on they go as fast as the heavy load permits and as their heavy hearts afford them strength.
Now one of them stumbles and falls, and as he rises he notices that the object over which he has tripped is still clinging to his foot.