The affectionate wife heard the inquiry, and instantly closed her hand in his.  He held it, in loving embrace.  The missionary spread a blanket over the body and limbs of the Huron, so as to hide his frightful wounds from sight.  A single stream, tiny, crimson and glistening, wound down from the shoulder of Fluellina, over her bare arm, to her waist, where it fell in rapid drops to the leaves below.  No one of her wounds were visible, although it was evident that dissolution was proceeding rapidly with her.

The minister, at this point, noticed that the lips of Oonomoo were moving.  Thinking he had some request to make, he leaned forward and listened.  His soul was thrilled with holy joy when he heard unmistakably the words of supplication.  Oonomoo was addressing the Great Spirit of the world, not as a craven does, at the last moment, when overtaken by death, but as he had often done before, with the assurance that his prayer was heard.  With a simplicity as touching as it was earnest, he spoke aloud his forgiveness of the Shawnees, saying that he wished not their scalps, and had not taken any for several years, not since the Great Spirit had sent a wonderful light in his soul.  For a moment more he was silent, and then opening his eyes, uttered the name of Niniotan.

“I am here before you!” replied the boy.

“Niniotan, be a Huron warrior; be as Oonomoo has been; never take the scalp of a foe, and kill none except in honorable warfare; live and die a Christian.”

As was his custom, when addressing his wife or boy, this exhortation was given in his own tongue, so that the missionary was the only one beside them who understood it.  Languidly shutting his eyes again, Oonomoo said:  “Read out of Good Book.”

The good man was pained beyond description to find that the pocket-Bible, which he always carried with him, had been lost during his hurried approach to this spot.  But Fluellina, who had caught the words, said:  “It is in my bosom.”

The missionary reached down and drew it forth, and, as he did so, all the men noticed the red stains upon it, while he himself felt the warm, fresh blood upon his hand.  Instinctively he opened the volume at the fifteenth chapter of Corinthians, that beautiful letter of the Apostle’s, in which the triumphant and glorious resurrection of the body at the last day is pictured in the sublime language of inspiration: 

“’As is the earthy, such are they also that are earthy; and as is the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly.

“’And as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.

“’Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.

“’Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.

“’In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump:  for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.