Prisoners of Chance

I lifted my body into a more erect posture, finding myself stiff and sore from head to foot, and glanced curiously around our prison-house. In the centre was the blazing log, the sole bit of color my eyes could perceive. Kneeling upon either side were the motionless figures of four priests, robed from head to foot in black, their faces, darkened by some pigment, appearing ghastly and repulsive under the flickering flame. Their lips muttered in monotonous chant a weird incantation which sent to my heart a chill of superstitious dread. High above the altar, blackened by the constantly ascending cloud of smoke, swayed uneasily a peculiar graven image of wood, hideous in disfigurement of form and diabolical of visage, appearing to float upon outspread wings, and gloating down upon us through eyes glittering ominously in the fire sheen. At either extremity of the apartment, where I supposed were the entrance and exit previously noted, stood those savages remaining on guard, grim, naked fellows, whose restless eyes, gleaming in the glow, followed our slightest movements, and whose weapons were constantly uplifted as though they longed for some excuse to strike. It composed a grewsome scene, savage, cruel, devilish, exhibiting within its gloomy outlines small promise for the morrow.

The old Puritan was leaning heavily against a small stake driven into the earth, resting his aching head upon one hand as he peered at me from beneath thatched brows.

"You have a white face, Master Benteen," he ventured, wondrously soft spoken for him, "yet if the heart remain strong and at peace with God, the body will mend itself."

"The heart has never yet failed me," I returned, striving to speak cheerfully, feeling that he would like to hear hearty English words again. "I am glad to behold you safely recovered, friend; that was a hard crack they landed on your skull."

"'T is not the will of the Almighty that I ignominiously perish at the hands of the heathen," he responded in his old manner, and as his voice roared out, not unlike a clap of thunder in that silence, I observed how the savages about us started. "Again, and yet again hath He miraculously delivered his servant from the mouth of the lion. Surely He must yet have labor for me in His vineyard; perchance the bearing unto these children of Amalek the message of peace."

"Do you propose preaching unto them?"

"Ay, why not? Inspired thereunto by the Spirit, I have already sought serious converse with yonder priest of Baal, kneeling at this side of that accursed shrine of idolatry. Yet so wedded is he to idols of wood and stone, he merely chattered back at me in unintelligible speech, and when I laid hand upon him to compel him to listen, the brown savage beyond grievously thrust me with a spear. But I retain faith that the Lord, in His own time, will open up a way unto their rebellious and sinful hearts."