The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 22

They had sincerely believed the miracle of rain would have softened the natives' hearts, proving once and for all that theirs was the one true God. It was not to be.

Over the next few months, the women learned the language, although not yet fluent. Maggie grew round and was heavy with child. An autumn birth seemed likely.

Although Chief Long Knife respected the God who sent the rain, he and the others were insistent that they would never convert. To do so would be to turn their backs on their customs and people. No, a miracle or not, it was not enough.

As a show of appreciation, Chief Long Knife allowed Brebeuf to invite several more Jesuits to join them. They were harmless, as it turned out, and loved to spend time with the children, telling the kids tales they had never heard.

The children listened wide-eyed to Bible stories, even to the oral telling of the catechism.

"One soul," Brebeuf breathed aloud every night as he prayed by his sleeping quarters, "Just one soul, Lord."

The other Jesuits contributed as well, teaching the warriors that their success would only lie in the trading of furs, particularly beaver. If they could trap these mammals, they could trade their pelts at the fort in Quebec for a hefty price. In doing so, they could provide for their people.

Falcon exchanged a look with Chief Long Knife, "If we trade at the fort, we will need to pass through Iroquois territory. It will be our death sentence. Is it worth it?"

Chief Long Knife had been weighing the pros and cons.

"We don't have much choice. We will not live long if we do nothing. Either way, we are dead. If we are successful, our children will see their children."

"When do we leave?"

Chief Long Knife hadn't decided yet. He wanted to learn more. Other than the occasional retaliation raid he had not had much contact with the pale faces. Now, to do business with them, well, he wanted to be prepared.

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"I will join you," Brother Andrews promised. "When you leave for the fort, I will join you and will help you negotiate with the traders."

Falcon frowned, his gut feeling warning him the Jesuit wasn't to be trusted.

"We will leave in the morning. Falcon, you will remain here. Your wife will deliver soon and you must stay and protect our people and your child."

Falcon didn't need to say anything. The fort was far and they wouldn't return for weeks.

Brother Andrew's idea proved to be what they needed, the men bringing back simple tools, beads, cloth, and seed in exchange for pelts.

Along with the trinkets, they brought back something invisible and much more sinister: Cholera.

The lethal disease swept through their tribe, killing many. It did not differentiate between men, women, or children.

Only the pale faces seemed unaffected.

The shaman worked tirelessly, making poultices that had no effect on the European disease the warriors had inadvertently picked up at the fort.

Brebeuf and Adelaide rolled up their sleeves, bringing as much comfort as they could to the dying.

Maggie was taken to a second longhouse, protecting her and the baby from the ravaging disease. Maggie paced the interior, tears tumbling down her cheeks as she prayed for her people. Yet the number of deaths continued to rise.

"Do something!" Chief Long Knife commanded between clenched teeth.

"I am doing all I know to do. I have never seen anything like it!" The Shaman narrowed his eyes, glaring at the Jesuits who had recently joined them, "It is a Pale Face disease."

Chief Long Knife looked over at Adelaide. She had been with them for months along with Maggie and they had not grown sick. What if Brebeuf's prophecy was right? Was this the plague he promised would come?

There was no time to dwell on it now, Brebeuf interrupting his thoughts.

"Let me pray and serve these dear souls."

Chief Long Knife nodded. He was better equipped to help the ill, and knowledgeable about this disease.

"Trust in Jesus," Brebeuf urged as he bathed their foreheads with fresh river water. "He is your healer. If you do not trust Him and be baptized, you will spend eternity in fire."

The natives did not fully understand the man who showed them compassion, the blazing fever drowning any thoughts they might have.

Those that were able dug the graves, bodies carried out almost hourly.

"Trust Jesus!" Brebeuf's voice was hoarse, tears blinding his eyes. "Don't let it be too late."

"I trust your Jesus," came a feeble whisper.

Brebeuf blinked back tears, smiling down at Thunder Cloud.

"Praise you, Lord! Adelaide, bring me my holy water!"

Adelaide frowned but obeyed Brebeuf's instruction. Using a small dish, he baptized the dying warrior.

They rejoiced over his salvation even as more died that hour.

Miraculously, Thunder Cloud recovered and began urging his brethren to follow his lead and trust Jesus for their salvation.

Brebeuf stood back as others asked to be baptized as well. The seed had borne fruit even in the midst of tragedy.

Chief Long Knife stepped forward, Falcon at his side.

"We trust your God."

Adelaide held a hand up to her mouth, tears dampening her hand as her husband and Maggie's turned their backs on their old ways, accepting the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as theirs.

The shaman's inability to help his people, while Brebeuf's prayers had brought Thunder Cloud back from the brink of death - that had been the turning point they needed. However, not everyone was happy about the change.

Hostility brewed, as of yet, undetected by Chief Long Knife.