Part 26 (1/2)
”Tohomish has spoken; his words are ended, and ended forever”
The harsh, disjointed tones ceased All eyes fell again on Cecil, the representative of the race by which the Willaeance of all those gathered tribes of the Wauna, the hatred of the whole people he had come to save, seemed to rise up and fall upon hi at his heart
But that strange peace was on him still, and his eyes, dilated and brilliant in the extre broith a look of exceeding pity
Multnomah rose to pronounce sentence For hiave it,--the clinched hand, the doard gesture, that said, ”There is death between us We will slay as we shall be slain”
Cecil was on his feet, though it seeht down the pain that pierced his heart like a knife; he gathered the last resources of an exhausted fra forith the covering for his eyes that was to shut out the light forever His glance, his gesture held them back; they paused irresolutely, even in the presence of Multnoreat white _tomanowos_ still, and they dared not touch hiave up all to come and tell you of God, and you have condemned me to die at the torture-stake,” said the soft, low voice, sending through their stern hearts its thrill and pathos for the last ti this blood-stain upon your souls The hand of the Great Spirit is on me; he takes me to himself Remeive--be at peace
Reentleness of his look; he reeled, and sank to the ground For a ht form shuddered convulsively and the hands were clinched; then the struggle ceased and a wonderful brightness shone upon his face His lipsinto which carew dim and he lay very still Only the expression of perfect peace still rested on the face
Sacherand in death, of the one whom the Great Spirit had taken from them Perhaps the iron heart of the war-chief was the only one that did not feel remorse and self-reproach
Ere the silence was broken, an old Indian woman came forward from the crowd into the circle of chiefs She looked neither to the right nor to the left, but advanced a the warrior-sachems, into whose presence no woman had dared intrude herself, and bent over the dead
She lifted the wasted body in her ar no per no word The charm that had been around the white _sharim chieftains made way, the crowd opened to let her pass, and even Multnomah looked on in silence
That afternoon, a little band of Indians were assee Some of them were already converts; some were only awakened and iathered, ar skin Their faces were sad, their ed squaw, her face resting in her hands, her long gray hair falling dishevelled about her shoulders In that heart-broken attitude she had sat ever since bringing Cecil to the hut She did not weep or sob but sat motionless, in stoical, dumb despair
Around the dead the Indians stood or sat in silence, each waiting for the other to say as in the hearts of all At length the Shoshone renegade who had so loved Cecil, spoke
”Our white brother is gone from us, but the Great Spirit lives and dies not Let us turn from blood and sin and walk in the way our brother showed us He said, 'Reet? I choose nohile he can hear round I put away froe I ask the Great Spirit to give me the new heart of love and peace I have chosen”
One by one each told his resolve, the swarthy faces lighting up, the stern lips saying unwonted words of love Di out in the dark, they had got hold of the hand of God and felt that he was a Father One would have said that their dead teacher lying there heard their vows, so calht the first bearave under the cottonwoods, not far from the bank of the river Beneath it, silent in the last sleep, lay the student whose graceful presence had been the pride of far-off Magdalen, the pastor whose elist whose burning words had thrilled the tribes of the wilderness like the words of sorave crouched the old Indian woman, alone and forsaken in her despair,--the one iven
No, not the only one; for a tall warrior enters the grove; the Shoshone renegade bends over her and touches her gently on the shoulder
”Come,” he says kindly, ”our horses are saddled; we take the trail up the Wauna to-night, I and my friends We will fly from this fated valley ere the wrath of the Great Spirit falls upon it Beyond the mountains I will seek a new hoans
Come; my hoone”
She shook her head and pointed to the grave
”My heart is there; ed her
”No, no,” she replied, with Indian stubbornness; ”I cannot leave hio and leave hirow not in new soil If it is pulled up it dies”
”Coentleness born of his new faith ”Be _my_ mother We will talk of him; you shall tell ain she shook her head; then fell forward on the grave, her arms thrown out, as if to clasp it in her embrace He tried to lift her; her head fell back, and she lay relaxed and rave was h the ans, without her