A SUSPICIOUS SOUND.
By and by Fred Linden and Terry Clark became drowsy. Devoutly kneeling,
they spent several minutes in prayer, and then stretched out on a single
blanket, with their backs toward each other, and the face of Fred in
such a position that he could look across the blaze at Deerfoot on the
other side. The latter had remained still and motionless, while the
lads, remembering the lesson they had learned at their mothers' knee,
asked their Heavenly Father to hold them in His keeping. The young
Shawanoe, who spent many an hour in communion with his Maker, was
touched to see that his friends did not forget their duty.
Deerfoot stirred the burning wood so that it threw out more light, and
then, reclining on his left elbow, so that the illumination came
directly in his face (the worst direction possible), he drew from
beneath his hunting-shirt the small Bible, that had been presented to
him by the Preston family, and began reading it.
Fred Linden, who had his eyes fixed upon him, was so interested that his
drowsiness departed. Without moving he watched him closely. He saw him
turning the leaves back and forth, as if looking for some place he had
in mind. It took him but a minute to find it, when, still leaning on his
elbow, and with the light striking his face and the printed page, he
seemed to become so absorbed as to lose all consciousness of his
surroundings.
Fred Linden, without betraying that he was awake, surveyed this
remarkable performance with an admiration that for the moment made his
eyes misty with emotion.
The eyes of Deerfoot were downcast, as he read the page, so that they
could not be seen but the handsome oval face; the luxuriant black hair,
with the eagle feathers thrust into the crown; the rows of gleaming
beads around the neck; the deerskin shirt that covered the breast and
arms to the wrists, on the left one of which shone the golden bracelet;
the red sash, behind which were shoved the knife and tomahawk; the
brilliant fringes of the hunting-shirt and leggins; the small,
ornamented moccasins; all these of themselves made a striking figure;
but Fred, handsome and rugged himself, who was not accustomed to see any
thing like beauty in the human form, was struck with the symmetry of the
figure before him. He particularly noticed the tapering legs, and could
not help saying to himself:
"There is no Indian or white man that can run as fast as he."
And the mental declaration of the lad was truth. The fleetness of the
young warrior had never been equaled, and he had never yet met the
person whom he could not outrun with ease and without putting forth his
whole speed.
"He don't look strong, but he is the last person that I would want to
meet in a fight; I'll bet he is so quick that he could dodge the bullet
fired at him."
I must draw the line here: Deerfoot could not do any thing of the kind.
"And he is reading his Bible! I never in all my life saw an Indian who
could read a word of print, or do more than sign his name with a cross
or some figure like a bug: I wonder whether we couldn't hire him to
teach school for us at Greville."
Fred thought a great many queer things about his new friend, but lay
watching him fully ten minutes before he spoke. Then, when he saw him
turn a leaf, he said in a low voice:
"Deerfoot, will you please read aloud?"
Fred expected that the Shawanoe would start and look up in surprise; but
he never raised his eyes, or gave the least sign that these words of his
were unexpected. He knew that Fred was watching him from the first, and
so, before the words were more than fairly out of his mouth, Deerfoot
began reading in a low, impressive monotone, as though he had merely
resumed, after turning over the leaf.
"After this I beheld, and lo! a great multitude, which no man could
number, of all nations, and kindred, and people, and tongues, stood
before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and
palms in their hands;
"And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders,
and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces and
worshiped God.
"Singing, Amen; blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor
and power and might be unto our God for ever and for ever, Amen.
"And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, Who are these which are
arrayed in white robes? and whence came they?
"And I said unto him, sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, these are
they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
"Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and
night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among
them.
"They shall hunger no more, neither shall they thirst any more; neither
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.
"For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and
shall lead them unto living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes."
Deerfoot read a few minutes longer from his favorite part in the New
Testament and then ceased. He had not lifted his eyes from the page, but
he knew that Fred Linden was asleep. He observed it in his breathing,
which was as soft as that of an infant.
The rocky cavern, the smoldering camp-fire, the two sleeping boys, the
motionless Indian stretched out and reading his Bible by the faint
light, the great, solemn forest walling them in, the profound stillness
that reigned everywhere: these were elements in a picture the like of
which it may be said (except where Deerfoot was one of the figures), had
never been seen anywhere else, and was not likely ever to be seen again.
The fire sank lower and the light on the printed page became so dim that
even the keen eyes of the young Shawanoe could not trace the words. He
looked at the embers as if asking himself whether he should renew the
blaze and continue reading. But the hour for meditation had come, and he
closed the book. Looking fondly at the stiff, wooden cover, he touched
his lips with infinite tenderness to it, and carefully placed it in the
inner receptacle of his hunting-shirt, murmuring as he did so:
"The best friend that Deerfoot ever knew!"
O light of life! Comforter of the sorrowing heart! Consoler of the
stricken soul!
In the flush of bounding health, when the passions throb high, we may
not heed thy blessed teachings, but when man's promises prove false, and
the head bows before the endless strife, and woes overwhelm us like a
flood, there is relief, there is light, there is life in Thee. The
wicked may jeer, the learned may scoff, the powerful may despise, the
favored may turn away, but there comes the time when learning, gifts,
wealth, power, beauty and all the world can give turn to ashes, and they
have no boon compared to Thine. "And God shall wipe away all tears from
their eyes." The pampered monarch, the dying beggar, the statesman, the
slave, the mother bowed with woe, the father shaken with grief,
childhood in its innocence, man in his strength, beauty in its scorn,
trembling old age, can find no balm but in Thee. Better that the sun
should be blotted from the heavens and the earth left a trackless void
than that Thy light should be denied the world.
Deerfoot lay flat on his face, his arms crossed so that his head and
shoulders were held a few inches above the flinty floor, and his dark
eyes were fixed on the embers in front. It was his favorite enjoyment,
when the stirring incidents of the day were done, and he had read from
the only Book he ever wanted to read, to spend a time in meditating on
the truths that it may be said had become a part of his very being.
Many a time had he lain thus, as motionless as if dead, while the
wonderful brain was busy with thoughts that stirred the profoundest
depths of his nature. There are beliefs that come to us at which reason
may laugh, but which it can not shake or disturb. There are questions
that the glib unbeliever may ask that we can not answer. But away down
in our hearts is a faith which the whole world can not remove, and which
can be uprooted only by ourselves. Woe to him who dares lay violent
hands upon it!
Deerfoot no more doubted that he and every one was in the direct keeping
of God than he doubted that he breathed and moved. He knew that the
Great Spirit had caused him to be made a prisoner by whites so that he
might learn the way of life; he knew that He had given him an insight
into the mysteries of His word that was denied to many others. A deep,
outstretching sympathy for those less favored than he suffused his whole
being. Gladly would he have given up his life in pain and torture and
agony, as did One in the dim long ago, if by so doing he could earn the
smile of his Heavenly Father.
But this remarkable young Christian felt that he was doing the work
appointed for him to do. Here and there he dropped a word that proved to
be seed sown upon good ground, and which had borne its fruit. He had met
his enemies in fair combat and had never taken wrong advantage of them:
his marvelous bow and arrow, and his still more effective rifle, had
brought many a dusky miscreant low, but he had used his amazing gifts in
the line of duty, and for the good of others. Would that he could have
won them by love, but it was not in the nature of things that he should
do so. He had "broken the Bread of Life" to more than one, and he hoped
that ere he should be called home, he should point the way to others.
Suddenly he raised his chin from his hands and turned his head slightly
to one side. His ear, whose acuteness was almost beyond belief, had
caught a suspicious sound. Profound as might be the meditation of the
Shawanoe, he could never forget his surroundings.