As for himself, he was young, sturdy, and could stand
more and rally sooner than she.
When, therefore, she said something in a low tone, he placed his
hand softly over her mouth and whispered--"S--h! go to sleep,
baby."
He smoothed the silky hair away from the forehead so gently and so
soothingly that she could not resist the effect. She meant to keep
awake until Omas made his final decision; but no person can resist
the approach of slumber, except by active movement.
Before long, and while Ben's hand was still gliding like down over
the forehead, the faint, regular breathing showed she was asleep.
The son smiled.
"Good! The best mother that ever lived! Heavenly Father, watch over
her and spare her for many years. Watch over us all."
He looked across at Omas, on the other side of the camp fire, and
saw the Delaware gazing fixedly at him.
He arose as silently as a shadow and stepped nearer, peering down
on the pale, handsome face with its closed eyes.
"She sleep?" asked the Indian.
"Yes," replied Ben, softly, with a nod of his head.
He looked at her a moment and then across to the other blanket,
where the round, chubby cheeks of the little girls reflected the
firelight. He waited a moment, and then the gentler side of his
nature triumphed.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64