After Long Years and Other Stories Part 21

Suddenly, he seized a stick, and tying his red handkerchief to it, moved it to and fro like a signal of danger and distress. But before the s.h.i.+p had come close enough to see the sign, it changed its direction and sailed away into the far distance. David followed its course, till it was lost to view, and then he sank upon the ground disheartened and cried bitterly.

The hours of the day that were not used in fis.h.i.+ng, cooking, or chopping, he spent gathering sh.e.l.ls, in which he often found pearls. As no person had ever been there to gather them, he found them in quant.i.ties. Then, too, he found many beautiful corals in the moss-covered rocks. "If G.o.d permits me to return to my people," said he, "I will bring them these pearls and corals, as presents."

He spent his time as best he could and often sighed for companions.h.i.+p.

For hours he would gaze at the friendly moon, at which he had never before gazed more than a second. And the twinkling stars, too, seemed to have a new meaning for him. "The heavens truly show G.o.d's wonderful work," said David. Even the delicate green moss that he had never deigned to notice now had its value, since it afforded him a soft bed.

"I see G.o.d's finger in everything about me," said he. "How well everything has been ordered." Good thoughts were now awaking in his mind and they were, like wings, carrying his heart to heaven.

"Loneliness must be sent for a good reason," thought he. "Perhaps G.o.d sent me to this dreary, lonely place to make me see and feel what I never understood before." David realized now that he had never been grateful to his parents for their care. Nor as obedient to their wishes as he should have been.

"Oh, if I ever get back to my home, I will be grateful and obedient to my parents." He remembered, too, how disagreeable he had often been to his sisters, and said: "Oh, how sorry I am. If G.o.d lets me return I will ask their forgiveness and be a good brother to them. I never appreciated my home, my parents, nor my sisters. G.o.d forgive me and let me return, and I will try to repay them in kindness and love for all my negligence."

An intense longing for his people filled David's heart; and it grew stronger every minute. Each day he watched for s.h.i.+ps and often sighted one, but they never neared the island. At last he came to the conclusion that the coast was rocky and dangerous, and so no s.h.i.+p would ever come near it.

With this sad thought, he was retracing his steps one day, carrying some wood to his little retreat. But what a terror seized him. He saw in the direction of his little retreat thick, black, clouds of smoke ascending to the heavens, and two red flaming brands of fire, like two church spires. David had often heard of islands that were volcanic and sent forth fire, and now he thought that this was one. He threw his wood to the ground and with palpitating heart drew closer and closer: but all he could see was smoke and flames. The crackling of the fire filled him with more fear. At last he saw that it was not from the earth that the fire issued. He realized that the wind had blown the flames of his little fire, which he always kept lighted, against some bushes and had set them on fire. Almost everything he owned was being destroyed and two immense trees were being consumed.

When he considered, above all, the loss of his little fis.h.i.+ng line that meant so much to him, he cried aloud: "Oh, what a misfortune this is!

Now, I'll die of hunger. I often heard my father say that from misfortune, fortune sometimes grows, but, when I look at this damage, it doesn't seem possible that any luck could come from it.

"Oh, how good it is to live with people. How easily one can help the injury to another. Oh, if ever I have the luck to get back to my family, how willingly will I help them in times of need. But who will help me, a poor, lost boy, on this lonely island? I am like a poor bird driven from her nest." A mighty painful longing for his father's house again seized him. "If only a s.h.i.+p would come and take me back," he said.

CHAPTER III

THE SMOKE

His people too, were mourning through these weary, weary weeks. One day the father said to the mother: "I need some willow branches and although it is very painful for me to go to that island, still, there is no other place where I can get them."

"Then you must not go alone," said the mother. "Take the children with you. They will be a help and a comfort to you." Soon they were all ready and rowed over to the island. After landing, they sat under a tree for a while.

"This poplar tree," said the father, "is the very one under which David and I sat the last day we were here. And over in that direction,"

pointing toward the island, "he was carried in his little boat." Tears stood in the father's eyes; the boy, Andreas, turned his head to wipe a tear; while the girls cried.

"Let us go now and gather nuts," said the father, to cheer them again.

They soon filled their baskets and were about to return to the boat, when the boy said: "Dear father, let us go to the top of the hill and get a view. I've never been up there." "Oh, yes," begged the girls, "do let us go."

The father consented and they all mounted the hill. It was a beautiful day. The sky was cloudless and the air was so clear and dry, that one could see distinctly far out into the distance. Suddenly Andreas shouted: "Father, what is that I see? Isn't smoke coming up out of the water?" The father looked in the direction pointed, and seeing smoke, said: "I don't know what it is. I fear it is a steamer on fire. It seems," continued he, shading his eyes, "that I see a dark spot, out of which the smoke is ascending. Don't you see it?"

"Oh, yes," cried the girls, "and it has two sharp points at the top."

"I see it, too," cried Andreas. "One point is higher than the other."'

"That is no s.h.i.+p," said the father, "for a s.h.i.+p would have a different shape, and wouldn't look so big from such a great distance. It must be an island, but I am sure I never heard of it. People must live there, or how could smoke arise from it."

"Oh, my," cried one of the girls, "wouldn't it be wonderful if our dear David lived there."

"Maybe so," cried Andreas.

"Nothing is impossible with G.o.d," said the father. "We must leave nothing undone in our search for him. We will ask Uncle Philip's advice and get him to help us. Let us retrace our steps, now, for it is time for us to return."

Little did they know how truly they had prophesied, for the smoke which they saw was ascending from the fire on the rocky island--the same that had cost David many tears of anguish and fear.

When they reached home, they told the mother their happy conjecture at once, and a faint ray of hope filled her heart.

The neighbors were now called together, but their ideas on the subject were varied.

"Nonsense," cried one. "How did that island get there. I never heard about it in my life. It must be a burning s.h.i.+p."

"No," cried another, who always thought he knew better than anybody else, "that's no s.h.i.+p, but a volcano sending out its fire. I have often heard that such islands appear over night. We would come to a nice place, if we should sail near such a fire-brand."

"It's either a s.h.i.+p or a volcano," said a third; "but for a hundred dollars I wouldn't go over there in such little boats as we have."

"If you'll pay me," said a fourth, "I will go, but not otherwise."

The old, honest Uncle Philip raised his quiet voice, and said: "Brother, I will go with you. Here is my hand on it. David was my beloved nephew.

It may not be certain that he lives, hardly probable, but still possible. Therefore it is worth the trouble of undertaking the dangerous trip; and G.o.d, who gives us courage to go ahead, will also see us through."

Peter, a young, strong lad, shouted: "I will go too. I have often risked my life for a fish, so I'll risk it now to save a human life, if I can.

I want no money, for as long as I live I would be happy in the thought that I had helped to save David, and this thought would be a sufficient reward."

"G.o.d give us all this joy," said Uncle Philip. "If wind and weather continue favorable, we will set sail at daybreak." The other men departed, shaking their heads and predicting misfortune.

Peter and Uncle Philip remained and discussed the matter a little further. "I will take my sail boat and furnish the food," said Philip.

The following morning proved perfect and a light wind was blowing.

Mother and daughter accompanied the men to the boat landing, and said: "G.o.d grant that you may return safely, bringing our David with you."

The men unfurled the sails and pushed off from the land, pa.s.sing the green island and going in the direction of the smoke. Nearer and nearer, did they come, and at last Peter cried: "It is really an island. Let us help with the oars." Suddenly Uncle Philip shouted: "Stop, and furl the sails. There are many dangerous rocks in the sea. We must be very careful or we will founder."

By means of the rudder and much care and pains, they at last made a landing. Peter was the first to leap on sh.o.r.e, and cried: "Now we have reached the island and perhaps we shall find David. Whatever is begun in G.o.d's name and out of love to humanity, will succeed."

The other two men now stepped out and fastened the boat securely. Uncle Philip looked at the rocks, shook his head and said: "This isn't a nice place to live."

They began to search the island and climbed over the rocks and deep clefts. At last they reached a little trodden path which led them to David's retreat. Peter hurried ahead.

David had pa.s.sed a sleepless night in fear and sadness. As the morning sun shone over all, a little lightness had crept into his heart, and he sank upon his knees and prayed.

As David was kneeling, the three men came behind him. But he was so absorbed that he heard no steps.

Peter saw him first, and said to the others: "See, there is a hermit, maybe he can direct us. Brother, can you tell us?"--he had no time to finish his question, for David had risen to his feet. He recognized his father, and cried: "Oh, my father! my father!" Then a silence broke over them, for neither had the power to speak.

At last they controlled their emotion and thanked G.o.d in one voice, for bringing them together. David then greeted his uncle and Peter and gathering up his belongings, hastened with them to the boat.

On the homeward trip, David related all his adventures, and shed tears of joy. Even his father had to dry his eyes several times. "You were very wise, and helped yourself wonderfully. Necessity awakened your understanding," said Peter.

"Don't you remember?" said his uncle, "what I once said to you that G.o.d would send you to a special school? That's where you've been. In the school of Experience. In this school you learned to know G.o.d, to pray to Him, to love Him, and to thank Him for his blessings. What I find most wonderful of all in your story is about the smoke which arose from your island. What is more trivial than smoke, yet the smoke was like a sign from heaven, that this was an island upon which some one lived. That was G.o.d's finger." All silently gave thanks for the sign.