The Big Otter, Robert Michael Ballantyne [book recommendations TXT] 📗

call his--but--perhaps--sometimes it is kindness to conceal. If there is anything sad to tell, might it not be well to leave his poor mother in ignorance? She is old and--"

"No, madam," I interrupted, "that may not be. I have a message from him to his mother."

"A message! Then you knew him?"

"No; I never saw him."

"Strange! You have a message from him, yet never saw him. Can you not give me the message, to convey it to her? She is getting frail and a shock might be serious. I am William Liston's cousin, and have come to take care of my aunt, and manage her farm."

"The message, by Mr Liston's wish," said I, "was to be delivered by me to his mother. I will be very careful to deliver it gently."

"Well, I will bring her to you. She usually comes out about this time to enjoy the sunset. I will trust to your discretion; but bear in remembrance that she is not strong. Forgive me," she added, turning to my companions, "this surprise has made me forget my duty. Will your friends dismount?"

Eve at once dismounted, and shook the hand which the lady extended; but Big Otter sat quite still, like a grand equestrian statue, while the lady entered the house.

I saw that the poor girl was much agitated, but, true to her Indian training, she laid powerful constraint on herself.

In a few minutes an old lady with the sweetest face and most benignant aspect I ever saw, came out of the cottage and advanced to the rustic seat. Before sitting down she looked at us with a pleasant smile, and said,--"You are heartily welcome. We are always glad to see strangers in these distant parts."

While speaking she tremblingly pulled out, and put on, a pair of spectacles to enable her to have a clearer view of her visitors. The scene that immediately followed took me very much by surprise, and completely frustrated all my wise plans of caution.

She looked at me first and nodded pleasantly. Then she looked at Eve, who was gazing at her with an intense and indescribable expression. Suddenly the old lady's eyes opened to their widest. A death-like pallor overspread her old face. She opened her arms wide, bent forward a little towards Eve, and gasped,--"Come to me--Willie!"

Never was invitation more swiftly accepted. Eve bounded towards her and caught her in her arms just in time to prevent her falling.

The poor old mother! For years she had prayed and longed for her lost Willie, though she never once regarded him as "lost." "Is not the promise _sure_?" she was wont to say, "Ask and ye shall receive." Even when she believed that the erring son was dead she did not cease to pray for him--because he _might_ be alive. Latterly, however, her tone of resignation proved that she had nearly, if not quite, given up all hope of seeing him again in this life, yet she never ceased to think of him as "not lost, but gone before." And now, when at last his very image came back to her in the form of a woman, she had no more doubt as to who stood before her than she had of her own identity. She knew it was Willie's child--one glance sufficed to convince her of that--but it was only Willie--the long-lost Willie--that she thought of, as she pressed the weeping girl with feeble fervour to her old and loving heart.

During the time that this scene was enacting, Big Otter remained still motionless on his horse, without moving a muscle of his grave countenance. Was he heartless, or was his heart a stone? An observer might readily have thought so, but his conduct when the old lady at last relaxed her hold of Eve, proved that, Indian like, he was only putting stern restraint on himself.

Dismounting with something of the deliberate and stately air of one who is resolved not to commit himself, the Indian strode towards Mrs Liston, and, tenderly grasping one of her hands in both of his, said,--"Weeum!"

Truly there is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous, and in some cases that step is an exceeding short one. It seemed so to me now, as I beheld the tall Indian stooping to gaze with intense earnestness into the tear-besprinkled face of the little old lady, who gazed with equally intense amazement into his huge, dark visage.

"What _does_ he mean by Weeum?" she asked, with an appealing look at me.

"Weeum," I replied, "is the Indian way of pronouncing William. Your late son, dear madam, was much beloved and respected by the tribe of Indians, with whom he dwelt, and was known to them only by the name of William, or Weeum. This man was his most intimate and loving friend and brother-in-law."

The poor old lady was deeply affected while I spoke, for of course my words confirmed at last, her long resisted fear that Willie was indeed no longer of this world.

Big Otter waited a few seconds, still holding her hand, and then, turning to me, said in his native tongue,--"Tell the pale-face mother that the sister of Big Otter was the wife of Weeum; that Big Otter loved Weeum better than a brother, and that Weeum loved Big Otter more than any man of his tribe. Every one loved Weeum the Good. He was so kind, and so brave! At first he was very fierce, but afterwards that passed away, and when Waboose began to grow tall and wise, Weeum turned soft like a woman. He spoke often to the red-men about the Great Master of Life, and he taught Big Otter to love the Great Master of Life and the name of Jesus. Often Weeum talked of going to the far south to see one whom he called a _dear old one_. We did not understand him then. Big Otter understands him now. So shall it be in the great hereafter-- things that are dark now shall be light then. But Weeum could not leave his wife and child, and we would not let him take them away. Sometimes Weeum spoke mysteries. One day he said to me, `Brother, I _must_ go to the far south to see the dear old one. I will take my wife and child, and will return to you again--if the great Master of Life allows. If, however, I die or am killed, Waboose will reveal all that is in Weeum's heart. She cannot reveal it now. She will not even understand until a _good_ pale-face visits your tribe.' Weeum said no more. He left the mind of Big Otter dark. It is no longer dark. It is now clear as the sun at noon. The `good pale-face' is here (pointing to me as he spoke), and the `dear old one' is before me."

He paused a moment at this point, and then, with an evident effort to suppress emotion, added,--"Weeum was drowned, soon after the day he spoke to me, while trying to save life. Since then there has been no sun in the sky for Big Otter."

The poor old mother listened to this speech with intense interest and deepening emotion, but I could see that the tears which flowed over the wrinkled cheeks were tears of gladness rather than of sorrow. It could scarcely at that time come as news to her that her son was dead, but it did come as a gladsome surprise that her wilful Willie had not only found the Saviour himself--or, rather, been found of Him--but that he had spent his latter days in striving to bring others to that great Source of blessedness.

Being too much overcome to speak, she submitted to be led away into the cottage by the comely matron, who had been a keen and sympathetic observer of all that passed. Of course Eve accompanied them, for Weeum's mother refused to let go her hand, even for a moment, and Big Otter and I were left outside alone.

"Come," said I, vaulting into my saddle, "you and I will go and have a gallop, my friend, and see the land, for I mean to dwell here and would strongly advise you to do the same."

"Waugh!" exclaimed the Indian, as he leaped on the back of his steed, and followed me.

"You see," said I, as we rode along, followed by the admiring gaze of the village children--for, accustomed though they were to savages, they had never seen so grand an Indian as Big Otter on so magnificent a horse--"you see, they will require some time to clear up matters in the cottage, for Eve's English, good though it be, is not perfect, and all their minds will naturally be a little confused at first. You did me good service to-day, my friend."

"How? The speech of Muxbee is mysterious."

"Don't you see," I replied, "that the speech you made to old Mrs Liston, broke the ice as it were, and told her nearly all that I had to tell. And if you knew how many anxious hours I have spent in thinking how I should best break the sad news to the poor old mother, you would better understand how grateful I am to you."

"The speech of Muxbee is still full of mystery. What does he mean by breaking news? When Big Otter has got news to tell, he tells it. When people have got something to hear, why should they not hear it at once?"

I felt that there are some things which some minds cannot understand; so, instead of answering, changed the subject.

"See," said I, pointing to a part of the uncleared bush into which we had ridden, "there are two redskins. One is about to let fly an arrow. Hold on--we may disturb his aim!"

My companion looked, and with a start threw forward the muzzle of his gun.

Little did I think, riding as we then were in a semi-civilised region-- what the aim was that I was so anxious not to disturb.

I was suddenly and rudely enlightened when I heard the twang of the bow, and saw the arrow flying straight towards me. It was too late to leap aside, or dodge it. Full on the centre of my chest the shaft struck me. I experienced something of the shock that one feels when death is suddenly and very unexpectedly brought near. I have a distinct recollection of the solemn impression made by the belief that my last hour had come, yet I did not fall. I saw that the savage was hastily fitting another arrow to the bow, but was so stunned by surprise that I made no effort to save myself. Happily Big Otter had his wits about him. He fired before the arrow winged its flight, and shot the Indian dead.

The other savage at once turned and fled, but my companion gave chase and overtook him in a few seconds. Seeing that he could not escape he turned round, flung down his weapons in token of submission, and stood sullenly before his captor.

Big Otter at once leaped off his steed, seized the man, bound his arms behind him with a thong, and led him to