She knelt down quietly by the poor boy, Virginia knelt too, and all followed their example. There had been regular hours for prayer before Howe and Gage had been lost; since then, all were welcome who cared to come to Mrs. Dare’s wigwam for devotions. She felt keenly a woman’s dislike to put herself conspicuously before the world, even though it were a little heathen world; but she had taught them a great deal in a quiet way. They felt she was their friend; they knew and loved her. And now with her simple words of prayer every heart in that rude cabin was lifted to the great Father above. Mrs. Dare gave Iosco the herb-tea that had been simmering over the fire. The hot draught and her gentle ministration soothed the poor boy, and he fell into a quiet sleep. Manteo still knelt on the floor. When he saw his boy sleeping sweetly, he exclaimed, “The Father is great and good, but he is angry with the redman, and will not hear his voice. Only the voices of the Blue-eyes reach his camp.”
“Oh, no!” said Mrs. Dare earnestly. “Oh, no, Werowance Manteo! The great Father loves us all, and he hears your prayers as soon as you speak. Ask him now to guide you, and go to the forest and hunt, for Iosco must have something to strengthen him when he awakes.”
“Will the white lady speak to the Great Spirit for Manteo while he goes and hunts?” he asked.
“I will, indeed,” she replied. And Manteo silently took his bow and arrows and left the wigwam.
For hours Iosco slept peacefully. At sunset his father returned, to the great joy and delight of every one, bringing with him the flesh of a young bear. Mrs. Dare prepared a dainty dish, and told Virginia to give Iosco a little when he first awakened, and to come and tell her how he was; that she was going back to her own wigwam for a while. Virginia was a very sensible little woman for only seven years old. She was born with the rare and blessed gift of a true nurse; and though there were five squaws in the wigwam, they let her sit close to the patient, feeling that she had a sort of supernatural power. They were afraid when her mother went away; but, as Iosco grew no worse, they decided Virginia must have the same power with the Great Spirit. When at last Iosco stirred and opened his eyes, one of them handed Virginia the food, that her hand might put it to his lips. He smiled at her as he took a little of the food, and then he went to sleep again. She slipped away to tell her mother the good news that Iosco was certainly better. Virginia stepped out of the wigwam into the cold night air. How the wind howled! The silver moonlight lay on everything, making the world in its white winding-sheet ghastly enough. The cold desolation seemed to freeze Virginia’s heart. She shuddered as she ran on. Here was Beth coming to meet her. “Dear Beth, how good you are to come! Iosco is better. But what’s the matter?” she asked, as Beth drew her toward the light that shone from the wigwam. Mistress Wilkins was there, and two old squaws, she saw as she reached the doorway. And her mother, where was she? A cry broke from Virginia as she saw her lying white and motionless on the bed. She threw herself on her knees, and laying her head on her mother’s breast she cried again and again, “Mamma, dearest mamma! Oh, speak to me just once, your own little girl. Open your eyes, please! Do look at me, oh, please, mamma.”
But the still, calm face lay against the black robe, in that peace which sorrow or pain alike are powerless to disturb.
A hemorrhage had come on just after she had left Iosco. She never spoke again, but lay with folded hands till the angel of death closed her eyes forever. Virginia was alone.