Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-12-04

4
strange Cree half carry the wounded
man through the door. he sped swiftly
across the open with visions Of new mis-
| fortune before him.
What he saw when he reached the door
was reassuring. Cummins was upon his
| knees beside the cot, his big shoulders
! hunched over and Melissa was welcom-
! ing him with her whole vocabulary Of
sound. The injury to CumminS' leg was
! not serious; and not being serious. 1t was
! accepted as q special incident Of Provi-
dence by Jan. for the new thoughts that
had come into his head were causing him
great uneasineSS.
| He lost no time In revealing his fears.
after Maballa had been sent to the fac
| tors wife. With graphic gesture he told
| Of what had happened. Cummins hob
bled to the door to look upon the wallows
| in the snow. and hobbled back to the
| table when Jan ran there in excited imi-
| tation Of the way in which he had found
the little Melissa In MabaIla's sling.
She ees ceevilize!' finished Jan, hotly.
"She ees not papoose! She mus be LAX
| herr His great eyes shone. and Cum
Minis felt thickening in his throat as
he looked into them and saw what the
, boy meant. "Maballa max papoose out
of Melissa. She grow-know noting, lax
papoose. talk lax papoose-'
JAMS feelings overwhelmed his tongue.
His shining hair rumpled thfckly about
his face as he leaned anxioQsly toward
. down In dumb perplexity upon the joyful
kfckings and wrigglings of the growing
problem.
"Ees she not ceevilize?' demanded Jan.
ecstaticaily. bending his black head over
her. Ah, re sweet MeliSSe!
| Yes, she must be like her, Jan-just
/ as good, and Just as sweet and just as
beautiful" interrupted Cummns, gently:
There was a quick intaking of his
breath as he hobbled back to his own cot,
leaving wit hs hal
That night. in the dim. suffering glow
| Of an OIL lamp, John Cummins and Jan
Thoreau Solemnly set TO work to thrash
out the great problem that had suddenly
entered into their existence. To these
two there was no element of humor in
what they were doing, for into their keep
ing had been given thing for which God
had not schemed them. The woman, had
she been there. would have laughed at
them. and In dozen gentle breaths might
have told them all that the world held in
secret between mother and child; but,
leaving them, she had passed on to them
something that was life, like herself, and
yet mystery.
Had fate given Maballa to Melissa for a
mother there would have been no mys-
terry. She would have developed as nat
urally as a wolf-whelp OF a lynx-kitten,
savage breath Of life in a savage world,
waxing fat in snow baths, arrow straight
, in papoose sings, moving, natural thing
In desolation to which generations and
centuries Of forbears had given 1t birth
right. But Melissa was like her mother.
In the dreams Of the two who were plan
ming out her fate, she was to be REIN
carnation OF her mother. That dream
left ray Of comfort in Cummins' breast
when his wife died 1t stirred happy VI
| sions within an. And it ended with seri-
Gus shock when Maballa brought into
/ their mental perspective of things the
| possibilities of environment
! So far as Cumnlins knew, there was not
fhCYD Enr%
! Churchill. two hundred miles away. In
| all that region he knew of only two full
white men, and they were Williams and
himself. The baby Melissa was hopeless
| ly lost in world Of savagery; honest,
| loyal. big-souled savagery-but savagery
for all that. and the thought Of it brought
the shadows of fear and foreboding to
the two into whose lives the problem had
| just come.
Long into the night they talked serious
ly of the matter. while Melissa slept: and
the longer they talked the greater doomed
the problem before them. Cummins fan
cied that he already began to see signs
| Of the Transformation in Melissa. She
was passionately fond OF the gaudy
| things Maballa gave her, which was a
| sign Of savagery. She was charmed by
confinement in the papoOse sling, which
was another sign OF it, and she had not
/ died in the snow WalloWs-wh1ch was still
| another.
| So far hack as he could remember. Cum
! minis had never come into flnger-touch OF
a white baby. Jan was as blissfully ig
norant: so they determined upon fmmedi
| ate and strenuous action. Maballa would
/ be ceaselessly watched and checked at
| every turn. The Indian children would
not be allowed to come near Melissa. They
| two-John CumminS and Jan Thoreau-
would make her like the woman who
! slept under the sentinel spruce.
| "She eeS ceevilize," said Jan, with final
fly. AN we mus keep her ceev1lize!''
Cummins counted back gravely upon his
! fingers The little Melissa was four
/ months and eighteen days old!
/ Tomorrow we will make her one Of
those things with wheels-like the baby
wagons they have in the SOUTH" he said.
! She must not go in the papoose slings!"
| An I will teach her re museek." whfs-
pered Jan, his eyes glowing. THAT ees
ceeviliZe,'
| Suddenly an eager light came into Cum
/ MINIS face, and he pointed to a Calico
/ covered box standing upon end in cor
ner Of the room
There are the bookseller books, JAM
| he said, softly. the trembling thrill Of in
| spiration in his voice. He limped across
! the room, dropped upon his knees before
| the box and drew back the curtain. Jan
knet beside him. ''They were her books
( he repeated. There was a sobbing catch
in his throat and his head fell little
upon his breast. Now-.we will give
theni-to Melissa"
He drew the books out. one by one. his
fingers trembling and his breath coming
| quickly az he touched them-a dozen
worn. dusty things. holding within them
/ more than John CumminS would ever
know of the woman he had lost. These
volumes OF dead voices had come with
her into the wilderness from that other
world she had known. They breathed the
pathos of her love from out of their rag
ted pages. mended in a hundred places
| to keep them from falling into utter ruin.
Slowly the man gathered them against
| as he might have held the woman, fight
ing hard to keep back his grief.
| Jan thrust hand deeper into the box
and brought forth something elsa few
| magazines and papers. as ragged and
worn as the books. In these other treas
ureS there were pictureS-pictures of the
things in civilization. which Jan had never
| seen and which We're too wonderful for
| him to comprehend at first. His eyes
burned excitedly as he held up "A gaudily
covered fashion paper to John Cummins.
''Theese are picture for Melissa he
| whispered, tensely. 1--WE tea9h her-we
show her-we max her know about ceev-
ilize people!"
Cummins replaced the books one at a
time. and each he held tenderly for a
dust gathered upon It, At the last one of
all. which was more ragged and worn
than the others, he gaZed for long time
It was a little Bible. his wife's Bible
inger-worn, patched, pathetic In its pow
erty. The man gulped hard.
! "Sshe loved this, JAM" he said. huskily
| "She loved this worn. old book more
than anything else. and little Melissa must
love 1t also. Melissa must be q Chris