When the missionary1 arose from his knees—for to that position he had unconsciously fallen—Mary stood beside him, quiet and smiling.
“Come, my child,” he said, taking Mary by the hand, and leading her up from the ravine. “It is almost night, and you have wandered far from the island; see, the woods are already dusky. The birds and squirrels are settling down in the leaves; you would have been afraid to go home in the dark.”
“I might have been lost, but not afraid,” answered Mary, in a sad voice; “after this, darkness will be my best friend.”
“But the forest is full of Indians, Mary, and now, since the English have excited them against us, no white person is safe after dark; I will go home with you; but, after this, promise me never to come alone to the woods again.”
“The Indians will not harm me,” answered Mary, with a mournful smile; “they pity me, I think, and love me a little, too. I am not afraid of them; their tomahawks are not so sharp as Jason Wintermoot’s words were this morning.”
As she spoke2 there was a rustling3 among the bushes at their right, and through the purple gloom of the woods they saw a group of Indians crouching4 behind a rock, and glaring at them through the undergrowth. One had his rifle lifted with a dusky hand, creeping towards the rock; the others were poised5 for a spring. 16Mary saw them, and leaped upon a rock close by, protecting the missionary from the aim taken at his life.
“Not him—not him!” she cried, flinging up both arms in wild appeal; “shoot me! You don’t know how I long to die.”
The Indians looked at each other in dismay. The threatening rifle fell with a clang upon the rock, and instead of an assault the savages6 crept out from their ambush8, lighting9 up the dusky ravine with their gorgeous war-dresses, and gathered around the young girl, like a flock of tropical birds surrendering themselves to the charms of a serpent.
Mary met them fearlessly; a wild, spiritual beauty lighted up her face. The Indians lost their ferocity, and looked on her with grave tenderness; one of them reached forth10 his hand, she laid hers in the swarthy palm, where it rested like a snowdrop on the brown earth; he looked down upon it, and smiled; her courage charmed him.
“The white bird is brave, the Great Spirit folds his wing over her which is pure like the snow,” he said, addressing his companions in their own language.
“Why harm my father? The Great Spirit covers him, also, with a wing which is broad and white, like the clouds. Look in his face. Is he afraid?”
The Indians drew back, and looked fiercely at the missionary, gathering12 up their rifles with menacing gestures.
He understood their language well, and spoke to them with that calm self-possession which gives dignity to courage.
“My children,” he said, “what wrong have I done that you should wish to kill me?”
The leading savage set down his gun with a clang upon the rock.
17“You have sat by the white man’s council-fire down yonder. The Great Father over the big water is our friend, but you hate the Indian, and will help them drive us through the wind gap into strange hunting grounds.”
“I am not your enemy. See, I carry no tomahawk or musket13; my bosom14 is open to your knives. The Great Spirit has sent me here, and He will keep me free from harm.”
Unconsciously the missionary looked at the deformed15 girl as he spoke. The Indians followed his glance, and changed their defiant16 gestures.
“He speaks well. Mineto has sent his beautiful medicine spirit to guard him from our rifles. The medicine father of the Shawnees is dead, his lodge17 is empty. The white bird shall be our prophet. You shall be her brother, live in the great Medicine Lodge, and dream our dreams for us when we take the warpath. Do we speak well?”
The missionary pondered a moment before he spoke. He read more in these words than one not acquainted with Indian customs might have understood.
“Yes,” he said at last, “I will come to your Medicine Lodge, and tell you all the dreams which the Great Spirit sends to me. She, too, will love the Indians, and dream holy dreams for them, but not here, not in the Medicine Lodge. She must stay in Monockonok among the broken waters. The Great Spirit has built her lodge there, under the tall trees, where the Indians can seek her in their canoes. Go back to your council-fire, my children, before its smoke goes out. I will light the calumet, and smoke with you. Now the Great Spirit tells me to go with this child back to Monockonok. Farewell.”
He took Mary Derwent by the hand, turned his back on the menacing rifles without fear, and walked away unmolested.
18Mary had wandered miles away from home; nothing but the superior knowledge of her guardian18 could have found her way back through all that dense19 and unequal forest. It was now almost nightfall; but a full moon had risen, and by its light this man, accustomed to the woods, guided their way back towards the river. But after the wildest of her excitement had worn away, Mary began to feel the toil20 of her long walk. She did not complain, however, and the missionary was unconscious of this overtax of strength till she sank down on a broken fragment of rock utterly21 exhausted22. He stopped in great distress23, and bent24 over her. She smiled, and attempted to speak, but the pale lids drooped25 over her eyes, and the strength ebbing26 completely from her limbs left them pale and limp. She lay before him entirely27 senseless, with the moonbeams falling over her like a winding-sheet.
Nothing but the angels of Heaven could see or understand the look of unutterable thankfulness which came to his noble features as the missionary stooped and took the young girl in his arms. A smile luminous28 as the moonlight that played upon it stole over his whole face, and the words that broke from his lips were sweet and tender, such as the Madonna might have whispered to her holy child.
He took no pains to bring her back to life, but when she did come to, soothed29 her with hushes30, and laid her head tenderly upon his shoulder till she fell asleep, smiling like himself.
As he came in sight of Monockonok a swell31 of regretful tenderness swept all his strength away more surely than fatigue32 could have done. He sat down upon a fallen tree on the bank just opposite the island and looked down into the sweet face with a gaze of heavenly affection. His head drooped slowly down, he folded her closer, and pressed his lips upon the closed eyes, the forehead, the lips, and cheeks of the 19sleeping child with a passion of tenderness that shook his whole frame.
“Oh, my God, my God! forgive me if this is sinful! my soul aches under this excess of love; the very fountains of my life are breaking up! Father of heaven, I am thine, all thine, but she is here on my breast, and I am but human.”
Deep sobs33 broke away from his heart, almost lifting her from his bosom; tears rained down his face, and dropped thick and fast amid the waves of her hair.
His sobs aroused Mary from her slumber34. She was not quite awake, but stirred softly and folded her arms about his neck. How the strong man trembled under the clasp of those arms! how he struggled and wrested35 against the weakness that had almost overpowered him, and not in vain! A canoe was moored36 under a clump37 of alders38, just below him. It belonged to the island, and in that Mary must be borne to her home. He was obliged to row the canoe, and of course must awake her. Once more he pressed his lips upon her face, once more he strained her to his heart, and then with loving violence aroused her.
“Mary—come, little one, wake up, wake up! See how late it is! Grandmother will be frightened.”
“Let me alone—oh! please let me alone!” murmured the weary child.
“No, Mary, arouse yourself; you and I have slept and dreamed too long. There, there! look around. See how the moonlight ripples39 upon the river! Look at the island; there is a light burning in the cabin. They are anxious no doubt at your long stay. Come, child, let us be strong: surely you can walk to the river’s brink40.”
Yes, Mary could walk again; that sweet sleep had given back her strength. She sat down in the canoe, tranquilized and happier than she had ever hoped to be again. The bitterness of the morning had entirely 20passed away. They floated on down the river a few minutes. Then the missionary bent to his oars41, and the canoe shot across the silvery rapids, and drew up in a little cove11 below the house.
The missionary stepped on shore. Mary followed him.
“Are you happier now? Are you content to live as God wills it?” he said, extending his hand, while his eyes beamed upon her.
“Yes, father, I am content.”
“To live even without earthly love?”
Mary shrunk within herself—it takes more than a few words, a struggle, or a single prayer to uproot42 a desire for human love from a woman’s heart.
“God will find a way—have no fear, all human beings have some road to happiness if they will but let the Heavenly Father point it out. Good-night Mary.”
“Good-night,” responded the young girl, while her eyes filled with grateful tears; “good-night, my father!”
He turned around, laid his hands on her head, and blessed her, then stepped into the canoe and disappeared along the path of silver cast downward by the moon. The young girl smiled amid her tears. How dark it was when he found her at noontide; how bright when he went away!
Mary Derwent entered that log-cabin a changed being. She scarcely understood herself, or anything that had filled her life up to that day. Her own nature was inexplicable44. One great shock had thrust her forward, as it were, to a maturity45 of suffering; her smile became mournful and sad in its expression, as if the poor creature had become weary of life and of all living things. She never again joined in the childish sports of her companions.
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1
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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3
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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8
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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9
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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10
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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12
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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13
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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14
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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15
deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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18
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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19
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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23
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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24
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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25
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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28
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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29
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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30
hushes
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| n.安静，寂静( hush的名词复数 ) | |
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31
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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32
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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33
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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34
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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35
wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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36
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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alders
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| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
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39
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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40
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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41
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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42
uproot
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| v.连根拔起，拔除；根除，灭绝；赶出家园，被迫移开 | |
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43
upbraid
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| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
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44
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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45
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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