THE sun was high in the heavens when Charlie awoke. For a while he lay gazing around, thinking of the thrilling events of the past day. His eyes filled with tears. Ah! there were no friendly parents near to speak to him, no dear little sister to throw her arms around him, nothing but a miserable hut and strange Indian faces. The woman, husband and father, were the only inhabitants of this island. A dreadful feeling of desolation came over the poor boy, and sobbing, he covered his face with his hands. The woman with heart-felt pity came in when she heard him, and tried to comfort him by kissing him. She succeeded in quieting him some. Then she went and fetched the clothes of her dead son, and soon Charlie was standing before her in his new costume. But for his white skin, you would have taken him for an Indian boy, and that, too, was to his grief; but what could he do, for his own clothes were many, many miles away on the river bank. He was deeply distressed as he stepped outside, after his plain breakfast, for in gazing far and wide, he could not see a single soul, or hut, or house. He felt himself all alone in the world, and, alas! his own disobedience had brought him into this misery. He alone was to blame, no one else. What would his good parents do now! How grieved must they be to lose their child in such a dreadful way, and tears rolled afresh down his cheeks, and sobbing, he fell on his knees and prayed to God to forgive his great sins. Oh! how bitter were the fruits of disobedience!
The following day he again implored the two Indians to take him back to his own home, but they replied in broken English that it was impossible to think of it at present, as the way was too far. Charlie told them that his father would pay them well for it; but they would not listen, otherwise they were not unfriendly toward him. The woman even clung to him with tender love; she considered him as a substitute for her dead boy, and did all in her power to divert his thoughts and to cheer him up. She took him along when she went to gather rushes and straw, with which to make mats and baskets. She showed him where the rare and lovely birds built their nests, and taught him to trace the tracks of the heron; and she showed him many herbs and roots, and taught him their different healing powers. She taught him to climb the highest trees, and gave him a bow with a quiver of arrows, highly ornamented. She encouraged him to stroll through the island, to shoot the wild birds, of which there were many in the bushes; but Charlie could not think of killing the beautiful innocent birds. The woman said one day: “The son of the white woman has not the spirit of his red brother who now sleeps in the grave, and who was always happy to take the bow and arrows and follow his father to the hunt.”
A good part of the time Charlie spent on the shore, where he watched the playing of the waves for hours in deepest silence, or gazed at a distant passing ship. Alas! not one of them came near enough to hear his shouts, or to notice his signals. What would they have looked for on an uninhabited island? But these quiet hours were not without joy and blessing for the poor lonely boy.
Here in quietness he could pour out his heart and soul uninterruptedly to God, who he knew still loved him in spite of all.
Ah! how precious were now the words which he had heard carelessly, or had learned by heart while at his home.
The God of grace used this bitter lesson, not only to show him his own deceitful heart, but the love of God, through the Lord Jesus Christ. The more Charlie knew of that love, the more his heart was filled with peace and joy.
One day the two Indians allowed him to go fishing with them. The sea was quiet and as smooth as glass, and this made the trip very pleasant. As they were nearing the mainland, Charlie was so overcome with home-longings that he cried aloud, and begged the Indians most piteously to take him back to his parents. But they got angry, and turning, rowed back to the island, and said that they would never take him along again. The woman consoled the little fellow as best she could, and when he would not be comforted, she told him that her husband made the trip up the river two or three times a year to trade the mats and baskets for food and weapons. The next trip would be in the spring, and she said that her husband would take him along then. The thought of spending the whole winter on the lonely island, made the poor boy feel very downcast. But the prospect of seeing his parents again, gave him fresh courage. To pass away the time, he helped to plait the neat baskets, with which the canoe was to be loaded next spring. He selected two very nice baskets for his mother and little sister. While at work, the woman told him about the past life of her race, when they were masters of America; the bravery and glories of their chiefs, feasts, war dances and hunting trips, etc., and that the white people robbed them of their property. Charlie listened with astonishment, to his Indian mother, and often tears came into his eyes as she told the deplorable story. Then he took her hand and exclaimed, “I shall love the Indians as long as I live!”
ML 11/25/1900