_ CHAPTER XXVI. "GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN THIS"
As the candle sputtered for a moment and then flared up, it revealed, lying prone on opposite sides of the lodge, feet to the embers of the dying fire, two human wrecks, whose emaciated features and shrunken forms could never have been recognised as those of Shad and Manikawan.
Bob stooped, and taking Shad gently by the shoulder shook him, saying as he did so:
"Shad! Shad! Shad!"
Slowly Shad, awakening from deep and exhausting slumber, opened his cavernous eyes and stared vacantly at Bob.
"Shad!" Bob repeated. "'Tis Bob an' Ed an' Dick come for you! Shad! We has grub, Shad!"
Still Shad gave no sign of recognition.
"Shad! Shad!" pleaded Bob. "Don 't you know me now, Shad?"
Then light came into Shad's face, and he forced himself to a sitting position.
"Bob! Oh, Bob!" he exclaimed, in a weak voice. "Am I awake or is it just a dream? Oh, Bob! Good old Bob! And Ed! and Dick! I was dreaming of you and the tilts. The dear old tilts! And you've come! You've really come? I heard you calling, Bob--days and days and days I heard you, and I answered. But my voice was too weak, and you couldn't hear.
"We've been in hell, Bob! In hell! The devils chased us, Bob--chased us for months and months and months. They looked like wolves, Bob--hungry, ugly wolves. I shot one! Yes, shot it! We ate it, and it was good! Ate the devil, Bob! and Ed! and Dick! Are you angels from heaven, or really you?"
"A bit o' tea's what he needs first thing," suggested Ed, in a shaky voice, as Shad paused in his ramblings. "Dick, you cut some wood, now, an' I'll be fillin' th' kettle with ice an' get un over. Bob better be stayin' right here."
"Bob!" Shad continued, as Dick and Ed passed out of the lodge. "Is it really you, Bob?"
His voice was now more rational, though very weak.
"Yes, Shad, 'tis me."
"How is Manikawan, Bob? Look after her, won't you? I'm all right now. I've tried to keep her out of the deep sleeps she falls into. I've been afraid she'd die. But I was very tired, and I think I must have been very sound asleep myself--and slept for hours. Leave me, Bob, and wake her up. I'm all right."
Bob obediently passed over to Manikawan, leaving Shad sitting and anxiously watching him.
It seemed for a time that he was not to succeed in rousing Manikawan from the coma-like sleep into which she had passed. But when Dick placed wood upon the fire, and the lodge began to warm, she displayed symptoms of waking; and Bob lifted her head to his shoulder, chafed her temples, and spoke her name over and over again. At last she opened her eyes, and with almost instant recognition smiled:
"White Brother of the Snow--Manikawan is glad you have come. It has--been--long--but Manikawan knew--White Brother of the Snow--would come at last--she did not--leave his friend."
Then she paused, exhausted, but presently continued:
"Manikawan told--White Brother of the Snow--she would--stay until he came--for his friend."
"Manikawan has done well. She has been very brave. She is a Ne-ne-not (Nascaupee), and brave." Bob could trust himself to say no more, for his voice was thick.
Manikawan's eyes lighted at these words of praise, and, never taking them from Bob's face, she lay silent upon his shoulder until the food was ready.
Ed Matheson gave some tea and a small portion of broiled ptarmigan and bread to Shad, while Bob held the cup for Manikawan, then fed her some morsels of the meat as one would have fed a child. It was difficult for her to eat, though the tea stimulated her temporally, and she began presently to speak again, in a scarcely audible voice:
"The Spirit--of Hunger--followed us. The Gaunt Gray--Wolf--was--always--behind--us. The--Spirit--of--Death--stood--at--the--door--of the--lodge. The spirits--were--strong--and cunning--like--the wolverine--Manikawan--was--weak--like a rabbit."
She was out of breath again and had to rest, and Bob held the cup of tea to her lips. With renewed strength she continued:
"Manikawan--killed--two ptarmigans--with--her--arrow. She--ate--the--entrails--but she--gave--the meat--to the friend--of White Brother of--the Snow. She was--not afraid--to die. She--could--not say to--White Brother--of the Snow--when he came--'The Spirit--of Death--has--entered--the lodge--and--taken--your--friend.'"
There was another pause. Bob could see, and Ed and Dick could see that the Spirit of Death was even then in the lodge, and that his cold hand was upon Manikawan's brow. Tears trickled down Bob's cheeks. He could not check them.
"White--Brother--of--the--Snow--must--not--feel--bad. He--must--be--strong. Manikawan--is--happy. She--is--warm--as--when--the--sun--grows--brave--in--summer--and-- comes--to--warm--the--earth."
A smile played upon her lips.
"Manikawan--is--very--happy. She--sees--a--light--like--the--rising--sun. White--Brother--of--the--Snow--"
That was the end. Bob's cheeks were wet as he laid the lifeless form upon its couch of boughs, and gently covered it with a deerskin robe; and tears streamed down the weather-beaten cheeks of the two rough trappers standing at his side.
Manikawan was not a Christian. She had never heard of Christ and His saving grace. But dare any say He did not welcome her to His Father's house?
She had renounced her own hope of life by remaining behind in the lodge when Mookoomahn left them. In the name of love and duty she had made the supreme sacrifice--she had laid down her life for another--and Christ hath said: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
And, after all, did Manikawan not worship the same God that you and I worship? Standing upon the high pinnacle of rock, looking toward the rising sun, she offered a silent prayer to the Great Mystery, that she might be made nobler, braver, and more generous--worthy to stand in the presence of the Great Mystery--the Maker of heaven and earth and all things.
We call Him God. Manikawan called Him the Great Mystery. _