And then one morning when the doctor went down into the well he saw something gleaming at his feet. He bent down, gazing with eager eyes. It was water!
“But will it be fresh?” he asked himself, with fast-beating heart. On so tiny an island the sea water might easily penetrate the soil.
Very slowly he dipped his finger into the now fast-rising water and lifted it to his lips. And then suddenly he sank down in the dampness and wept like a child. The water was fresh and pure and sweet, God’s rain indeed.
By noonday the well was filled with the life-giving water, and from every part of the island the natives gathered to behold the miracle of the rain which had come up from the earth instead of down from the sky, and to do honor to Missi Paton who had given it to them.
And when he assured them that it would always be there so long as the island remained in the sea, and that drought would nevermore bring suffering and distress among them, they kissed his hands in gratitude.
Never again did the evil words of the traders against their beloved Missi have any weight with the natives of Aniwa, and never again did they turn away from the Christian religion and the Christian God; and, if you should visit the island to-day, you would be shown by the proud people the well where John Gibson Paton found by faith and prayer and labor the buried blessing so many years ago.
* * * * * *
Again the Story People clapped their hands as the story ended, for they love to hear of nothing better than a brave and an unselfish deed.
“That is a good story,” said Mary Frances.