In that moment I was glad that no blow of mine had laid him low. He had lived wrongly, and died wrongly. What a contrast between his death and that of The Keeper! Yet the white man was of a race which we call superior, he knew of things which the Mohawk had never dreamed of, he had had advantages which The Keeper could never have had—and he had lost his soul alive. Nay, I am not judging him, God forbid! It may be that even such as he are not without hope elsewhere.
Uchichak plucked up his courage and together we cut off the choicest portions of the giant moose and carried them over to the fires of the camp in the shelter of the walls. Many of the Crees had gone on to the lodges, there to rescue Laughing Snow and to await the coming of Talking Owl from the western pass.
When the meat was cooked I carried it back to the cavern, where we found Radisson as we had left him, and but for his weakness I had never known that he was hurt. He seemed to have become twenty years younger in an hour.
Only Uchichak and one of two of the older chiefs had remained with us. We all partook of the meat, and I even forced a portion upon Ruth, who was in sore need of it. She, poor girl, had little heart for eating, but managed to do well enough, as did we all.
"Now let us consider," said Radisson, to whom the meal had given strength. Not even when he was facing death would he give up planning. "How are you to reach home again?"
"We have no home," said Ruth sadly.
"Ayrby is sold, and we may not return."
"Tut, child," he responded. "I make no doubt you can get the farm back again, if so you wish. Once I am gone, neither English nor French will molest you. Indeed, you might make for the nearest post and there take ship for the colonies. I would have you visit Montreal, if possible, and there regain the inheritance which awaits you. There will be ships in the Bay from Boston, mayhap, who will set forth in the spring."
Straight upon this there entered four warriors who bore the silent form of The Keeper. Radisson demanded to look upon the face of his friend once more, and I would have drawn Ruth aside, but she would not. And when The Keeper's face was uncovered, I was glad that this was so; for the noble old face was strangely exalted and lit with a great beauty such as never in all my life had I seen. I cannot describe it fittingly, yet it was a memory that has ever-remained fresh and vivid—as if God's hand had touched the worn features lightly, ere they fell into the repose of death.
Then they covered him again and bore him into the inner chamber, where they stayed no longer than might be. The old wanderer, I could see, was now sinking fast, and his hand would tremble as it clutched mine and Ruth's. Presently he pulled from about his neck a gold medal—the same, it proved, that had been given him long years before by the English king, ere his shameful betrayal. This he pressed into Ruth's hand.