The Rulers of the Lakes: A Story of George and ChamplainAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Rulers of the Lakes: A Story of George and Champlain
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Fiction
"Again you show signs of intelligence, Dagaeoga," he said. "As you have
learned to be a warrior, perhaps you can learn to be a medicine man
also, not the medicine man who deals with spirits, but one who heals.
Now, as you have done your part, I shall do mine."
"What do you mean, Tayoga?"
"I will resolve to be well. You know that among my people the healers
held in highest honor are those who do not acknowledge the existence of
any disease at all. The patient is sick because he has not willed that
he should be well. So the medicine man exerts a will for him and by
reciting to himself prayers or charms drives away the complaint which
the sick man fancies that he has. Now, I do not accept all their belief.
A bullet has gone through my shoulder, and I know it. Nothing can alter
the fact. Yet I do know that the will has great control over the nerves,
which direct the body, and I shall strengthen my will as much as I can,
and make it order my body to get well."
Robert knew that what he said was true. Already the Iroquois were, and
long had been, practicing what came to be known much later among the
white people as Christian Science.
"Try to sleep, Tayoga," he said. "I know the power of your will. If you
order yourself to sleep, sleep you will. I have your rifle and mine, and
if the enemy should come I think I can hold 'em off."
"They will not come," said Tayoga, "at least, not today nor in the night
that will follow. They are so busy with the Great Bear and the Mountain
Wolf and Daganoweda that they will not have time to hunt among the hills
for the two who have sought refuge here. What of the skies, Dagaeoga?
What do they promise?"
Robert, standing in the entrance, took a long look at the heavens.
"Rain," he replied at last; "I can see clouds gathering in the west, and
a storm is likely to come with the night. I think I hear distant
thunder, but it is so low I'm not sure."
"Areskoui is good to us once more. The kindness of his heart is never
exhausted. Truly, O Dagaeoga, he has been a shield between us and our
enemies. Now the rain will come, it will pour hard, it will sweep along
the slopes, and wash away any faint trace of a trail that we may have
left, thus hiding our flight from the eyes of wandering warriors."
"All that's true, and now that you've explained it to your satisfaction,
you obey me, exercise your will and go to sleep. I've recovered my
rulership, and I mean to exercise it to the full for the little time
that it may last."
Tayoga obeyed, composing himself in the easiest attitude on his blanket
and bed of leaves, and he exerted his will to the utmost. He wished
sleep, and sleep must come, yet he knew that the fever was still rising
in his veins. The shock and loss of blood from the great musket ball
could not be dismissed by a mere effort of the mind, but the mind
nevertheless could fight against their effects and neutralize them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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