“YOU DID IT,” gasped Mads, I looking fiercely at Will. “You kill my dog Skal!”
“No indeed,” cried Will. “He put his foot on a stone — so, and rolled over.”
“You kick him,” said Mads slowly. “You wished him die in mud, I forget — never!”
With streaming eyes, and looks of the deepest sympathy, poor Will explained the occurrence again and again, but Mads still walked in sullen silence.
Towards night, however, Mads grew more cheerful, and as the travelers halted earlier than usual, he proposed to Will that they should take a short walk before dark, as he had something curious to show him. Will felt some reluctance, but not liking to refuse Mads when he was just returning to good humor, he at length set out with him, promising his father soon to return.
On they went over the desolate country, Mads entertaining Will with wild old legends about the curious island, till before he was aware, he was all alone with Mads in the wildest, strangest place he ever saw.
“Where are we?” he asked in sudden alarm. “Let us go home, Mads, for I don’t care to see anything curious tonight.”
“Almost there,” said Mads. “Hark, it calls you.”
“What?” asked Will, with a failing heart, as he heard a dull, steady roar. “Is it a bear?”
“Oh, no!” said Mads with an unpleasant laugh. “Here we are, and dragging him forward he saw lying ten or fifteen feet beneath him another of those terrible pits of mud. Will shrank back with a cry of terror, while Mads clutched his arm and dragged him again to the edge.
“See big pond — Black Lake — no bottom.” And Willie saw that it was very large, and boiling furiously, while in the center rose a black column several feet in height.
“I don’t like Black Lake at all, Mads. Do let’s go home.”
“You never go home,” said Mads with burning eyes.
“What do you mean?” asked Will.
“I love Skal very much. You kill him, I kill you,” responded Mads savagely.
“Oh, you cannot mean it! You are in fun, dear, dear Mads. You know I didn’t kill poor Skal. It is a joke, isn’t it, Mads?” Mads grimly shook his head.
Poor Will looked over the dreary country, half visible in the twilight. Over all the barren rocks and fields of lava, there was no human being in sight, and he was alone on the brink of this horrible lake with Mads’ strong clutch on his arm. It must be a dream. Why couldn’t he wake up? He rubbed his eyes and looked around piteously, but alas! it was no dream, and Mads was still watching him with those fiery eyes.
“Mads,” cried Will with a sudden hope, “I will buy you five, six, twelve dogs, with long ears as soft as silk.”
“There is no more Skal,” said Mads briefly.
Will took out his little purse and offered the contents. Mads threw it contemptuously into the bubbling lake.
“Then I must surely die?” Mads nodded.
“Oh Mads! how can you be so wicked? You cannot mean it.” But Mads rose as if to throw him in.
An agonizing scream burst from Willie’s lips, while Mads laughed contemptuously.
Mads said: “Skal die in mud—you die too.”
“Wait a minute, then,” said little Will, the cold drops gathering on his forehead. “I must pray first.”
“Black spirit won’t hear,” said Mads.
“But God will.”
“What God?” asked Mads quickly. “Are you Christian?”
“Yes,” said Will.
“Pray then,” said Mads more gently, for he had heard something of religion from the many travelers. “Christian’s God is great spirit.”
Then little Will fell upon his knees, and began to pray. “O God, I have been very wicked, but do forgive me for Jesus’ sake, and, O God, to save me from this, for I am so afraid of that dreadful mud, and I am such a little boy.”
“Enough,” said Mads, shaking his shoulder.
“One minute more, dear Mads?” “One minute,” said Mads, walking away.
“And, oh God, comfort my dearest father. Don’t let him think I ran away. Forgive Mads, dear Saviour, and give him a new heart. Oh!” Continued poor Will, a new hope springing up in his heart, “give it to him this moment, just now, if it’s possible—”
A wild cry interrupted him, and looking up, he could see nothing of Mads. With shaking limbs he hastened to the edge of the precipice. There was Mads, over the side.
Having made an uncertain step in the dim light, he had fallen a few feet, and finding it impossible to clamber up the smooth side, was hanging on desperately to a little twig.
“You are safe,” whispered a voice inside Will. “Now let the wicked boy fall into the pit himself.”
It was but a moment, and from Will’s heart arose the fervent prayer “lead us not into temptation.” Then, with eager hands, he unbound his long stout woolen cape, and fastening one end to a tough little shrub, dropped the other over to Mads. Oh, joy! he could just reach it, and Mads came clambering up like a young squirrel. As his head appeared above the top, poor Will fell fainting upon the ground. Mads stole up to him with a wondering, reverential expression, and lifting him in his arms, carried him tenderly home.
(to be continued)
ML-01/16/1966