CHAPTER XI.
Our journey was a perilous one with all our precautions. The passagethrough the swiftest part of the current almost swamped our boat. Thecurrent that opposed us was so strong, that when we increased our speedour boat appeared to be cleaving its way through a wall of waters. Waunawas perfectly calm, and managed the motor with the steadiest nerves. Hercourage inspired me, though many a time I despaired of ever getting outof the rapids. When we did, and looked up at the star-gemmed canopy thatstretches above my own world, and abroad over the dark and desolatewaste of waters around us, it gave me an impression of solemn and weirdmagnificence. It was such a contrast to the vivid nights of Mizora, towhich my eyes had so long been accustomed, that it came upon me like anew scene.
The stars were a source of wonder and ceaseless delight to Wauna. "Itlooks," she said, "as though a prodigal hand had strewn the top of theatmosphere with diamonds."
The journey over fields of ice and snow was monotonous, but, owing tothe skill and knowledge of Mizora displayed in our accoutrements, it wasdeprived of its severities. The wind whistled past us without any othergreeting than its melancholy sound. We looked out from our snug quarterson the dismal hills of snow and ice without a sensation of distress. TheAurora Borealis hung out its streamers of beauty, but they were palecompared to what Wauna had seen in her own country. The Esquimaux shepresumed were animals.
We traveled far enough south to secure passage upon a trading-vesselbound for civilized shores. The sun came up with his glance of fire andhis banners of light, laying his glorious touch on cloud and water, andkissing the cheek with his warmth. He beamed upon us from the zenith,and sank behind the western clouds with a lingering glance of beauty.The moon came up like the ghost of the sun, casting a weird yet tenderbeauty on every object. To Wauna it was a revelation of magnificence innature beyond her contriving.
"How grand," she exclaimed, "are the revelations of nature in yourworld! To look upon them, it seems to me, would broaden and deepen themind with the very vastness of their splendor. Nature has been morebountiful to you than to Mizora. The day with its heart of fire, and thenight with its pale beauty are grander than ours. They speak of vast andincomprehensible power."
When I took Wauna to the observatory, and she looked upon the countlessmultitudes of worlds and suns revolving in space so far away that a sunand its satellites looked like a ball of mist, she said that words couldnot describe her sensations.
"To us," she said, "the leaves of Nature's book are the winds and waves,the bud and bloom and decay of seasons. But here every leaf is a world.A mighty hand has sprinkled the suns like fruitful seeds across thelimitless fields of space. Can human nature contemplate a scene so grandthat reaches so far beyond the grasp of mind, and not feel its owninsignificance, and the littleness of selfish actions? And yet you canbehold these myriads of worlds and systems of worlds wheeling in the diminfinity of space--a spectacle awful in its vastness--and turn to thepractice of narrow superstitions?"
At last the shores of my native land greeted my longing eyes, and thefamiliar scenes of my childhood drew near. But when, after nearly twentyyears absence, I stood on the once familiar spot, the graves of myheart's dear ones were all that was mine. My little one had died soonafter my exile. My father had soon followed. Suspected, and finallypersecuted by the government, my husband had fled the country, and,nearly as I could discover, had sought that universal asylum for theoppressed of all nations--the United States. And thither I turned mysteps.
In my own country and in France, the friends who had known me ingirlhood were surprised at my youthful appearance. I did not explain thecause of it to them, nor did I mention the people or country from whenceI had come. Wauna was my friend and a foreigner--that was all.
The impression she made was all that I had anticipated. Her unusualbeauty and her evident purity attracted attention wherever she went. Thewonderful melody of her singing was much commented upon, but in Mizorashe had been considered but an indifferent singer. But I had made amistake in my anticipation of her personal influence. The gentlenessand delicacy of her character received the tenderest respect. None wholooked upon that face or met the glance of the dark soft eyes everdoubted that the nature that animated them was pure and beautiful. Yetit was the respect felt for a character so exceptionably superior thatimitation and emulation would be impossible.
"She is too far above the common run of human nature," said oneobserver. "I should not be surprised if her spirit were already plumingits wings for a heavenly flight. Such natures never stay long among us."
The remark struck my heart with a chill of depression. I looked at Waunaand wondered why I had noticed sooner the shrinking outlines of the onceround cheek. Too gentle to show disgust, too noble to ill-treat, thespirit of Wauna was chafing under the trying associations. Men and womenalike regarded her as an impossible character, and I began to realizewith a sickening regret that I had made a mistake. In my own country, inFrance and England, her beauty was her sole attraction to men. The loftyideal of humanity that she represented was smiled at or gently ignored.
"The world would be a paradise," said one philosopher, "if suchcharacters were common. But one is like a seed in the ocean; it cannotdo much good."
When we arrived in the United States, its activity and evident progressimpressed Wauna with a feeling more nearly akin to companionship. Herown character received a juster appreciation.
"The time is near," she said, "when the New World will be the teacher ofthe Old in the great lesson of Humanity. You will live to see itdemonstrate to the world the justice and policy of giving to every childborn under its flag the highest mental, moral and physical trainingknown to the present age. You can hardly realize what twenty-five yearsof free education will bring to it. They are already on the right path,but they are still many centuries behind my own country in civilization,in their government and modes of dispensing justice. Yet their freeschools, as yet imperfect, are, nevertheless, fruitful seeds ofprogress."
Yet here the nature of Wauna grew restless and homesick, and she at lastgave expression to her longing for home.
"I am not suited to your world," she said, with a look of deep sorrow inher lovely eyes. "None of my people are. We are too finely organized. Icannot look with any degree of calmness upon the practices of yourcivilization. It is a common thing to see mothers ill-treat their ownhelpless little ones. The pitiful cries of the children keep ringing inmy ears. Cannot mothers realize that they are whipping a mean spiritinto their offspring instead of out. I have heard the most enlighteneddeny their own statements when selfishness demanded it. I cannot mentionthe half of the things I witness daily that grates upon my feelings. Icannot reform them. It is not for such as I to be a reformer. Those whoneed reform are the ones to work for it."
Sorrowfully I bade adieu to my hopes and my search for Alexis, andprepared to accompany Wauna's return. We embarked on a whaling vessel,and having reached its farthest limit, we started on our perilousjourney north; perilous for the lack of our boat, of which we could hearnothing. It had been left in charge of a party of Esquimaux, and hadeither been destroyed, or was hidden. Our progress, therefore, dependedentirely upon the Esquimaux. The tribe I had journeyed so far north withhad departed, and those whom I solicited to accompany us professed to beignorant of the sea I mentioned. Like all low natures, the Esquimaux areintensely selfish. Nothing could induce them to assist us but the mostapparent benefit to themselves; and this I could not assure them. Thehomesickness, and coarse diet and savage surroundings told rapidly onthe sensitive nature of Wauna. In a miserable Esquimaux hut, on a pileof furs, I saw the flame of a beautiful and grandly noble life die out.My efforts were hopeless; my anguish keen. O Humanity, what have Isacrificed for you!
"Oh, Wauna," I pleaded, as I saw the signs of dissolution approaching,"shall I not pray for you?"
"Prayers cannot avail me," she replied, as her thin hands reached andclosed over one of mine. "I had hoped once more to see the majestichills and smi
ling valleys of my own sweet land, but I shall not. If Icould only go to sleep in the arms of my mother. But the Great Mother ofus all will soon receive me in her bosom. And oh! my friend, promise methat her dust shall cover me from the sight of men. When my motherrocked me to slumber on her bosom, and soothed me with her gentlelullaby, she little dreamed that I should suffer and die first. If youever reach Mizora, tell her only that I sleep the sleep of oblivion. Shewill know. Let the memory of my suffering die with me."
"Oh, Wauna," I exclaimed, in anguish, "you surely have a soul. How cananything so young, so pure, so beautiful, be doomed to annihilation?"
"We are not annihilated," was the calm reply. "And as to beauty, arethe roses not beautiful? Yet they die and you say it is the end of theyear's roses. The birds are harmless, and their songs make the woodsmelodious with the joy of life, yet they die, and you say they have noafter life. We are like the roses, but our lives are for a century andmore. And when our lives are ended, the Great Mother gathers us in. Weare the harvest of the centuries."
When the dull, gray light of the Arctic morning broke, it fell gentlyupon the presence of Death.
With the assistance of the Esquimaux, a grave was dug, and a rude woodencross erected on which I wrote the one word "Wauna," which, in thelanguage of Mizora, means "Happiness."
The world to which I have returned is many ages behind the civilizationof Mizora.
Though we cannot hope to attain their perfection in our generation, yetmany, very many, evils could be obliterated were we to follow theirlaws. Crime is as hereditary as disease.
No savant now denies the transmittable taint of insanity andconsumption. There are some people in the world now, who, knowing thepossibility of afflicting offspring with hereditary disease, have livedin ascetic celibacy. But where do we find a criminal who denies himselfoffspring, lest he endow posterity with the horrible capacity for murderthat lies in his blood?
The good, the just, the noble, close heart and eyes to the sweetallurements of domestic life, lest posterity suffer physically ormentally by them. But the criminal has no restraints but what the lawenforces. Ignorance, poverty and disease, huddled in dens ofwretchedness, where they multiply with reckless improvidence, sometimesfostered by mistaken charity.
The future of the world, if it be grand and noble, will be the result ofUNIVERSAL EDUCATION, FREE AS THE GOD-GIVEN WATER WE DRINK.
In the United States I await the issue of universal liberty. In thisrefuge for oppression, my husband found a grave. Childless, homeless andfriendless, in poverty and obscurity, I have written the story of mywanderings. The world's fame can never warm a heart already dead tohappiness; but out of the agony of one human life, may come a lesson formany. Life is a tragedy even under the most favorable conditions.
THE END
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