“In a few minutes the chair was ready and the two old folks, followed by the girl, were lowered to the Rambler’s decks.
Clay immediately decided that he liked all three of the visitors. The girl had a frank, boyish-looking face, charming in its gentleness and firmness. Her father was a great giant of a man with the quaintly gentle air of authority that one comes to associate with country storekeepers or local postmasters, while his wife was a kind-faced, motherly-looking woman. Clay decided that the Kid was right. These three gentle folks were not of the kind to meet the rough, lawless element of gold-mad Dawson.
Mrs. Mason at once declared her desire to see the sick boys, of whom the Yukon Kid had told her.
Ike led her below, having already informed the invalids of her coming. Case ground his teeth to shut out the groans. He was feeling worse than usual that morning. His wounds were knitting and the tortured nerves were crying out for mercy. He looked up suddenly to see a kindly face with tear-filled eyes bending over him and to hear a quite motherly voice saying, “You poor, poor boy; how you must be suffering.” A few deft pats to the pillow and a rearrangement of the blankets gave Case unspeakable relief. “Now, boy, just keep still and try to go to sleep,” commanded the gentle voice. “As soon as I look at that other poor boy. I’m going to come back and read to you for a while.”
The little Esquimau met Mrs. Mason’s eyes with the dark mournful gaze bred by the untold suffering of hundreds of generations of hunger, suffering ancestors. The good woman groaned at the sight of the skin-covered bones. “You speak English?” she inquired with lips that trembled with emotion.
“Yes, I speak the English,” he said weakly. “Learn it at Holy Cross Mission. Here all the same as Holy Cross, all clean and white and every one good and kind.”
“You must lie still and get well,” commanded the lady, “so you can tell me much about the Holy Cross, and, always, eat of the things I send you. They will make you well and strong. Good-bye, I’ll see you again soon,” and the tender-hearted woman stumbled up the cabin stairs with eyes that could scarcely see through the tears that blinded them.
“Go right back to the steamer,” she commanded Clay. “You boys have done your best for your sick companions, but there are some things you lack and I am going back to get them.”
Clay signalled to Alex to turn around and in a few minutes the Rambler was tearing her way back to the steamer.
CHAPTER XIX