The dark figures standing only a few hundred yards away from the graves were disconcerting. Today, however, the men seemed unmoved by the watching Indian presence that was never far from any of their activities. Three rectangular pits in the ground were in danger of filling with snow as the railway workers stood over them, hatless heads bowed and gloved hands clasped.

The makeshift crosses were rustic and three wooden coffins sat tidily at the mouths of the graves, waiting to be lowered and covered, as Henderson brought the service to a close. Muir was watching him hopefully, his eyes, unlike the rest of the men’s, raised to Henderson’s face instead of gazing at his feet. The only face turned from the ground was McEwan’s. He was watching the watchers.

The group of Indians were framed by a copse of delicate aspens, bending into graceful arcs under the weight of the snow, their balletic posture often resulting in a sudden snapping in the night as the trunk gave up its fight against gravity. It was a dramatic graveyard but the graves had been almost impossible to dig in the iron-hard ground. The men had stabbed at the earth for hours with pick-axes and now stood unhappily, ringing their handiwork, as the minister spoke.

‘… and as we commit their bodies to the ground, we trust in the everlasting life granted to us by the love of our Lord Jesus.’

Twelve fur-clad pallbearers heaved the boxes up on their ropes and lowered them into their rough-hewn holes.

‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust …’

Henderson tossed a ball of frozen earth into the middle grave, which bounced comically off the wooden lid and clattered down the side of the pit. He carried on regardless, looking up at the grim snow-flecked faces surrounding him.

‘Our colleagues will know the mercy and grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, for they were, as you all are, true believers in the risen Christ.’

Muir looked relieved.

‘It was Jesus who taught us that there is but one God. It was Jesus who warned us against the sin of idolatry and false gods, false beliefs. It was Jesus who reassured us that though we walk through the valley of death, we need fear no evil, for He is with us. He told us, brothers, that so long as we shall believe in Him, and believe in no other, we will have everlasting life in the presence of our Father.’

The men looked dolefully at Henderson. From the corner of his eye he saw a small, quick movement through the snow that made him flick his eyes left. A whiskeyjack, a still, watching bird, was standing in the snow a few feet from Henderson and the graves. He looked back at the men and continued.