Zane Grey (25 page)

"Come in," said Edwards.

The door opened to admit a man, who entered eagerly.

"Jim! Jim!" exclaimed both missionaries, throwing themselves upon
the newcomer.

It was, indeed, Jim, but no answering smile lighted his worn,
distressed face while he wrung his friends' hands.

"You're not hurt?" asked Dave.

"No, I'm uninjured."

"Tell us all. Did you escape? Did you see your brother? Did you know
Wetzel rescued Nell?"

"Wingenund set me free in spite of many demands for my death. He
kept Joe a prisoner, and intends to kill him, for the lad was
Wetzel's companion. I saw the hunter come into the glade where we
camped, break through the line of fighting Indians and carry Nell
off."

"Kate?" faltered Young, with ashen face.

"George, I wish to God I could tell you she is dead," answered Jim,
nervously pacing the room. "But she was well when I last saw her.
She endured the hard journey better than either Nell or I. Girty did
not carry her into the encampment, as Silvertip did Joe and me, but
the renegade left us on the outskirts of the Delaware town. There
was a rocky ravine with dense undergrowth where he disappeared with
his captive. I suppose he has his den somewhere in that ravine."

George sank down and buried his face in his arms; neither movement
nor sound betokened consciousness.

"Has Wetzel come in with Nell? Joe said he had a cave where he might
have taken her in case of illness or accident."

"Yes, he brought her back," answered Edwards, slowly.

"I want to see her," said Jim, his haggard face expressing a keen
anxiety. "She's not wounded? hurt? ill?"

"No, nothing like that. It's a shock which she can't get over, can't
forget."

"I must see her," cried Jim, moving toward the door.

"Don't go," replied Dave, detaining him. "Wait. We must see what's
best to be done. Wait till Heckewelder comes. He'll be here soon.
Nell thinks you're dead, and the surprise might be bad for her."

Heckewelder came in at that moment, and shook hands warmly with Jim.

"The Delaware runner told me you were here. I am overjoyed that
Wingenund freed you," said the missionary. "It is a most favorable
sign. I have heard rumors from Goshocking and Sandusky that have
worried me. This good news more than offsets the bad. I am sorry
about your brother. Are you well?"

"Well, but miserable. I want to see Nell. Dave tells me she is not
exactly ill, but something is wrong with her. Perhaps I ought not to
see her just yet."

"It'll be exactly the tonic for her," replied Heckewelder. "She'll
be surprised out of herself. She is morbid, apathetic, and, try as
we may, we can't interest her. Come at once."

Heckewelder had taken Jim's arm and started for the door when he
caught sight of Young, sitting bowed and motionless. Turning to Jim
he whispered:

"Kate?"

"Girty did not take her into the encampment," answered Jim, in a low
voice. "I hoped he would, because the Indians are kind, but he
didn't. He took her to his den."

Just then Young raised his face. The despair in it would have melted
a heart of stone. It had become the face of an old man.

"If only you'd told me she had died," he said to Jim, "I'd have been
man enough to stand it, but—this—this kills me—I can't breathe!"

He staggered into the adjoining room, where he flung himself upon a
bed.

"It's hard, and he won't be able to stand up under it, for he's not
strong," whispered Jim.

Heckewelder was a mild, pious man, in whom no one would ever expect
strong passion; but now depths were stirred within his heart that
had ever been tranquil. He became livid, and his face was distorted
with rage.

"It's bad enough to have these renegades plotting and working
against our religion; to have them sow discontent, spread lies, make
the Indians think we have axes to grind, to plant the only obstacle
in our path—all this is bad; but to doom an innocent white woman to
worse than death! What can I call it!"

"What can we do?" asked Jim.

"Do? That's the worst of it. We can do nothing, nothing. We dare not
move."

"Is there no hope of getting Kate back?"

"Hope? None. That villain is surrounded by his savages. He'll lie
low now for a while. I've heard of such deeds many a time, but it
never before came so close home. Kate Wells was a pure, loving
Christian woman. She'll live an hour, a day, a week, perhaps, in
that snake's clutches, and then she'll die. Thank God!"

"Wetzel has gone on Girty's trail. I know that from his manner when
he left us," said Edwards.

"Wetzel may avenge her, but he can never save her. It's too late.
Hello—"

The exclamation was called forth by the appearance of Young, who
entered with a rifle in his hands.

"George, where are you going with that gun?" asked Edwards, grasping
his friend by the arm.

"I'm going after her," answered George wildly. He tottered as he
spoke, but wrenched himself free from Dave.

"Come, George, listen, listen to reason," interposed Heckewelder,
laying hold of Young. "You are frantic with grief now. So are all of
us. But calm yourself. Why, man, you're a preacher, not a hunter.
You'd be lost, you'd starve in the woods before getting half way to
the Indian town. This is terrible enough; don't make it worse by
throwing your life away. Think of us, your friends; think of your
Indian pupils who rely so much on you. Think of the Village of
Peace. We can pray, but we can't prevent these border crimes. With
civilization, with the spread of Christianity, they will pass away.
Bear up under this blow for the sake of your work. Remember we alone
can check such barbarity. But we must not fight. We must sacrifice
all that men hold dear, for the sake of the future."

He took the rifle away from George, and led him back into the
little, dark room. Closing the door he turned to Jim and Dave.

"He is in a bad way, and we must carefully watch him for a few
days."

"Think of George starting out to kill Girty!" exclaimed Dave. "I
never fired a gun, but yet I'd go too."

"So would we all, if we did as our hearts dictate," retorted
Heckewelder, turning fiercely upon Dave as if stung. "Man! we have a
village full of Christians to look after. What would become of them?
I tell you we've all we can do here to outwit these border ruffians.
Simon Girty is plotting our ruin. I heard it to-day from the
Delaware runner who is my friend. He is jealous of our influence,
when all we desire is to save these poor Indians. And, Jim, Girty
has killed our happiness. Can we ever recover from the misery
brought upon us by poor Kate's fate?"

The missionary raised his hand as if to exhort some power above.

"Curse the Girty's!" he exclaimed in a sudden burst of
uncontrollable passion. "Having conquered all other obstacles, must
we fail because of wicked men of our own race? Oh, curse them!"

"Come," he said, presently, in a voice which trembled with the
effort he made to be calm. "We'll go in to Nellie."

The three men entered Mr. Wells' cabin. The old missionary, with
bowed head and hands clasped behind his back, was pacing to and fro.
He greeted Jim with glad surprise.

"We want Nellie to see him," whispered Heckewelder. "We think the
surprise will do her good."

"I trust it may," said Mr. Wells.

"Leave it to me."

They followed Heckewelder into an adjoining room. A torch flickered
over the rude mantle-shelf, lighting up the room with fitful flare.
It was a warm night, and the soft breeze coming in the window
alternately paled and brightened the flame.

Jim saw Nell lying on the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her long,
dark lashes seemed black against the marble paleness of her skin.

"Stand behind me," whispered Heckewelder to Jim.

"Nellie," he called softly, but only a faint flickering of her
lashes answered him.

"Nellie, Nellie," repeated Heckewelder, his deep, strong voice
thrilling.

Her eyes opened. They gazed at Mr. Wells on one side, at Edwards
standing at the foot of the bed, at Heckewelder leaning over her,
but there was no recognition or interest in her look.

"Nellie, can you understand me?" asked Heckewelder, putting into his
voice all the power and intensity of feeling of which he was
capable.

An almost imperceptible shadow of understanding shone in her eyes.

"Listen. You have had a terrible shock, and it has affected your
mind. You are mistaken in what you think, what you dream of all the
time. Do you understand? You are wrong!"

Nell's eyes quickened with a puzzled, questioning doubt. The
minister's magnetic, penetrating voice had pierced her dulled brain.

"See, I have brought you Jim!"

Heckewelder stepped aside as Jim fell on his knees by the bed. He
took her cold hands in his and bent over her. For the moment his
voice failed.

The doubt in Nell's eyes changed to a wondrous gladness. It was like
the rekindling of a smoldering fire.

"Jim?" she whispered.

"Yes, Nellie, it's Jim alive and well. It's Jim come back to you."

A soft flush stained her white face. She slipped her arm tenderly
around his neck, and held her cheek close to his.

"Jim," she murmured.

"Nellie, don't you know me?" asked Mr. Wells, trembling, excited.
This was the first word she had spoken in four days.

"Uncle!" she exclaimed, suddenly loosening her hold on Jim, and
sitting up in bed, then she gazed wildly at the others.

"Was it all a horrible dream?"

Mr. Wells took her hand soothingly, but he did not attempt to answer
her question. He looked helplessly at Heckewelder, but that
missionary was intently studying the expression on Nell's face.

"Part of it was a dream," he answered,impressively.

"Then that horrible man did take us away?"

"Yes."

"Oh-h! but we're free now? This is my room. Oh, tell me?"

"Yes, Nellie, you're safe at home now."

"Tell—tell me," she cried, shudderingly, as she leaned close to Jim
and raised a white, imploring face to his. "Where is Kate?—Oh!
Jim—say, say she wasn't left with Girty?"

"Kate is dead," answered Jim, quickly. He could not endure the
horror in her eyes. He deliberately intended to lie, as had
Heckewelder.

It was as if the tension of Nell's nerves was suddenly relaxed. The
relief from her worst fear was so great that her mind took in only
the one impression. Then, presently, a choking cry escaped her, to
be followed by a paroxysm of sobs.

Early on the following day Heckewelder, astride his horse, appeared
at the door of Edwards' cabin.

"How is George?" he inquired of Dave, when the latter had opened the
door.

"He had a bad night, but is sleeping now. I think he'll be all right
after a time," answered Dave.

"That's well. Nevertheless keep a watch on him for a few days."

"I'll do so."

"Dave, I leave matters here to your good judgment. I'm off to
Goshocking to join Zeisberger. Affairs there demand our immediate
attention, and we must make haste."

"How long do you intend to be absent?"

"A few days; possibly a week. In case of any unusual disturbance
among the Indians, the appearance of Pipe and his tribe, or any of
the opposing factions, send a fleet runner at once to warn me. Most
of my fears have been allayed by Wingenund's attitude toward us. His
freeing Jim in face of the opposition of his chiefs is a sure sign
of friendliness. More than once I have suspected that he was
interested in Christianity. His daughter, Whispering Winds,
exhibited the same intense fervor in religion as has been manifested
by all our converts. It may be that we have not appealed in vain to
Wingenund and his daughter; but their high position in the Delaware
tribe makes it impolitic for them to reveal a change of heart. If we
could win over those two we'd have every chance to convert the whole
tribe. Well, as it is we must be thankful for Wingenund's
friendship. We have two powerful allies now. Tarhe, the Wyandot
chieftain, remains neutral, to be sure, but that's almost as helpful
as his friendship."

"I, too, take a hopeful view of the situation," replied Edwards.

"We'll trust in Providence, and do our best," said Heckewelder, as
he turned his horse. "Good-by."

"Godspeed!" called Edwards, as his chief rode away.

The missionary resumed his work of getting breakfast. He remained in
doors all that day, except for the few moments when he ran over to
Mr. Wells' cabin to inquire regarding Nell's condition. He was
relieved to learn she was so much better that she had declared her
intention of moving about the house. Dave kept a close watch on
Young. He, himself, was suffering from the same blow which had
prostrated his friend, but his physical strength and fortitude were
such that he did not weaken. He was overjoyed to see that George
rallied, and showed no further indications of breaking down.

True it was, perhaps, that Heckewelder's earnest prayer on behalf of
the converted Indians had sunk deeply into George's heart and thus
kept it from breaking. No stronger plea could have been made than
the allusion to those gentle, dependent Christians. No one but a
missionary could realize the sweetness, the simplicity, the faith,
the eager hope for a good, true life which had been implanted in the
hearts of these Indians. To bear it in mind, to think of what he, as
a missionary and teacher, was to them, relieved him of half his
burden, and for strength to bear the remainder he went to God. For
all worry there is a sovereign cure, for all suffering there is a
healing balm; it is religious faith. Happiness had suddenly flashed
with a meteor-like radiance into Young's life only to be snuffed out
like a candle in a windy gloom, but his work, his duty remained. So
in his trial he learned the necessity of resignation. He chaffed no
more at the mysterious, seemingly brutal methods of nature; he
questioned no more. He wondered no more at the apparent indifference
of Providence. He had one hope, which was to be true to his faith,
and teach it to the end.