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.