“He certainly is, Kate. He was always good to the Indians, was he not?”
“Ah, ah, good. De Lord no let Gikhi die, eh?”
“Let us hope not, Kate. He seems better, doesn’t he?”
“Mebbe so. Doctor come bimeby. Doctor savvey.”
That day was a long one for Marion. She attended to the missionary, and busied herself about the house. Zell was more like her former self, and talked a great deal about the coming of the doctor. She sat much of the time near the little window looking down The Gap in the direction of Big Chance.
“They will come that way,” she said, “and I want to be the first to see them. I know they will come to-day, and will bring good news about Tim. The Golden Horn is smiling, and that is another sign that all is well. Do you believe in signs, Miss?”
“No, I cannot truthfully say that I do. Years ago I did, but I have got all over that.”
“But I believe in them, Miss,” Zell declared. “The Indians have all kinds of signs, and they tell many things by them. They believe in dreams, too. Doesn’t the Bible tell about dreams which came true? I often think about the dream which saved the life of little Jesus. If that dream was true, why shouldn’t it be so to-day?”
This was more than Marion was able to explain. She merely told the girl that she hoped her dream would come true, and that she would soon have her lover with her. Thus all through the day they waited and watched for the absent ones. Several times the missionary aroused, asked for his wife, and talked about the Indians, and the mission work. He took a little nourishment, but showed no sign that he knew what was
