Though Shad's weakness caused him to wobble woefully when he walked,
his knee had much improved since the day of his injury.
The food, given him in small portions at frequent intervals, and the
assurance of continued life that the appearance of the rescuers
brought, stimulated his body to new strength and restored to him his
mental equilibrium. Hope is life, and one possessed of a large degree
of hope, coupled with a good physique, may withstand a tremendous
amount of hardship and privation.
The very presence of Manikawan during the long period of enforced
inactivity and waiting, had kept alive in Shad Trowbridge the hope
that Mookoomahn might after all reach the river tilt and send his
friends to the rescue before it was too late. Had it not been for
this, it is scarcely probable he would have survived until they came.
The few Indian words which Shad had acquired had not been sufficient
to permit him to carry on connected conversation with Manikawan or the
other Indians. Denied this privilege for so long, he talked almost
incessantly to the three trappers, while the four sat through the
hours until daybreak, keeping vigil with Death. He talked of the
prospect of continued life, and what a blessed thing it was to know
that he was still to be in and of the great and glorious world; of his
trying experiences since he had joined the Indians.
With dawn the tent was pitched among the trees, not far from the
lodge. Then they removed to its more comfortable shelter, with Bob
walking at Shad's side to steady his uncertain footsteps.
Shad was sick, and suffered severely from nausea that day--and at
intervals, indeed, for several days thereafter--a result that always
follows the introduction of food into the contracted stomach after a
long period of starvation, particularly when the food is of coarse
quality and unsuitably prepared.
Almost immediately, too, his legs began to swell. But this disturbed
him little. It was merely an incident and another result of his long
period of starvation, quite to be expected.
"Don't worry about un none," advised Ed Matheson, when Shad called
attention to the phenomenon. "Injuns as starves always gets swelled
legs, an' they stays swelled for quite a bit, too. Just forget un now.
You'll be all right so long's you don't get too rapid wi' th' grub,
an' set you'm belly swellin' too fast."
"Ed," said Shad, "after what I've been through, I think there's
nothing would alarm me much. It doesn't disturb me in the least to
have my legs swell. I'm rather proud of them. They contrast
beautifully with the rest of me, and give me a certain sense of
stability that otherwise I should not have, for they're the only part
of me that looks in the least natural. Do you hear my bones rattle
when I move? I have a presentment that, unless I'm pretty careful, my
skeleton will fall apart before I get flesh enough to hold it
together."
"Now that's th' way I likes t' see folk!" exclaimed Ed. "Not growlin'
like a bear because they looks summat like a dead man, an' because
they has a bit o' ache in their insides every time they eats. You'm do
look as though you'm just rize from th' grave. But you'm a wonderful
live corpse yet, Shad. A man may's well be happy even if he do feel
like all creation turned inside out, 'specially when he knows he ain't
goin' t' keep feelin' that way. A man is just as happy as he's
thinkin' he is, an' no happier, an' as miserable as he's thinkin' he
is an' no miserabler. I finds bein' happy an' content wi' things is
just a matter o' th' way o' lookin' at un."
"Yes, Ed, I think you're right," agreed Shad. "I'm finding no fault.
I'm thankful to be alive and in the beautiful world, and I'm very much
contented with my lot. I would be very happy, too, but for the thought
of that poor little Indian girl."
The earth, frozen to adamantine hardness, precluded the possibility of
digging a grave during the winter season. Therefore, after the manner
of her people, a platform of poles, high raised above the snow, was
built among the spruce trees to receive Manikawan's body.
It was late in the afternoon when the platform was completed and the
four weatherbeaten men again entered the silent lodge, where they were
to conduct a simple, primitive funeral service, and give Manikawan the
rites of Christian burial before raising her body to the platform.
Bob, who never was separated from the little Testament his mother had
given him years before, drew the book from his pocket when they had
seated themselves in the lodge, and opening to John xv, passed it to
Shad, who, accepting it, read the chapter aloud in a low but clear
voice, while the others reverently listened.
[Transcriber's note: John XV:12-13--"This is my commandment: love one
another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down
one's life for one's friends."]
"Bob," said Shad at length, closing the Testament, "you knew her
first. Tell us about her."
Responding, Bob described how Sishetakushin and Mookoomahn, finding
him unconscious in the snow, had carried him to their lodge--the very
lodge in which they were now sitting; and how upon first opening his
eyes to consciousness he had seen her, weaving the web of a snowshoe,
opposite him, across the fire--just where she was lying now; and she
had looked up and smiled when she discovered he was awake. And then,
ever gentle, ever considerate, she had nursed him to health, and
ministered to him until he had left them.
When Bob had finished, Shad spoke of her never-failing thoughtfulness
and consideration. Of the encouragement of her example as,
uncomplaining, she followed the weary, endless trail day after day. Of
her hand lightly laid upon his shoulder as she looked into his eyes
and spoke words of encouragement he could not understand, but which
never failed to call him back to himself and his manhood and to banish
an impulse which frequently assailed him to give up the fight for
life, lie down in the snow and accept the release from suffering which
Death offered.
"But her crowning sacrifice," said Shad, "came when she refused to
leave me alone to die; and I certainly could not have survived had I
been left in this lodge without human companionship.
"Manikawan could have gone on with Mookoomahn and saved herself. He
went to you and told you of our need. He did well, but he did it
mainly to save himself. It was the instinct of self-preservation that
gave him inspiration to accomplish it. But she remained, and remaining
she gave me the only food that fell to her arrow, while she starved.
That was divine unselfishness--divine sacrifice."
Stepping to the side of Manikawan's lifeless body, he lifted and laid
aside the skin robe which covered her face, then kneeling at her side,
with tears upon his cheeks, he continued:
"Manikawan, your skin was red, but your soul was as white as the
driven snow that covers the desolate land of your people. Your
features are shrunken with starvation and suffering, but still they
are beautiful, for they reflect the beautiful, unselfish soul which
they once sheltered.
"Your lips smile. Did you see the glory of heaven as you passed from
us--a thousand times more beautiful than the brilliant aurora or the
gorgeous sunsets that glorify the skies of this land of awful
desolation where you existed? Did you see the light of the Eternal
City shining through its gates when they were opened to receive you?"
As though in answer to Shad's question the last rays of the setting
sun dropped through the open top of the lodge and rested upon the
upturned face of the dead Indian maiden in a bright, illuminating
glow.
"Manikawan, you sacrificed your life to duty and to human sympathy.
You died a Christ-like death, and your sacrifice shall not be wasted.
Your body is dead, but your spirit still lives.
"So long as the breath of life is in me, Manikawan, I shall never
forget your example of patience and encouragement and self-effacement.
It has built for me new ideals. It has taught me that there are other
things to live for than the mere attainment of pleasure and the
gratification of selfish desires.
"You were an Indian, Manikawan, and the world would have called you a
pagan and a savage. But you have pointed out to me the way to a nobler
and better life."
Shad arose and resumed his seat. He had spoken in a voice of tense
earnestness, and for a little while all sat in awed silence. Then Ed
Matheson began to sing, and the others joined him:
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee."
With the last notes of the grand old hymn they all knelt, while big
Dick Blake, in a voice shaken with emotion, offered a short but
fervent prayer.
Manikawan's body was wrapped tightly in deerskin robes, and in the
darkening twilight of the cold winter evening it was reverently borne
to the newly erected platform among the spruce trees. Here it was to
lie exposed to winds and storms, but beyond the reach of marauding
animals, until the next summer's sun should warm and soften the earth
sufficiently to permit Mookoomahn and the trappers to dig a grave and
lay it in its final resting-place.