Mou-Setsé: A Negro Hero; The Orphans' Pilgimage: A Story of Trust in God

It was in the dim twilight of early morning that they happened to meet a woman driving a cart filled with cans of milk which she was taking to the town. A sudden thought seemed to strike Toni, for, going straight up to her, he said —

“Please, mother, can you tell us the way to the mountains?”

“To the Tyrolese mountains?” answered the woman, in a tone of astonishment, standing still, and looking at the group with much interest. Perhaps she had children of her own, and pictured them as little wanderers like those before her. “You are all right so far,” she continued, “for a sister of mine left me to go there but the other day, and drove straight along this road. I watched her till she was out of sight. I am afraid I cannot direct you further. But what do you three children want there?” she inquired.

“We are going to look for grandfather,” Nanny answered in haste, “and he will give us some breakfast, for we are so hungry.” At these last words she cast a longing glance at the milk cans.

“So hungry, are you?” said the woman, looking at her with real motherly tenderness; then taking out a tin measure, she filled it to the brim, and putting it into her hands, said, “Drink it all up, my dear; and it is milk from a Tyrolese cow, too,” she added, smiling. “And we must not forget your good horses. Will they take milk too, I wonder?” offering one of the boys a full can, which she filled a second and a third time. Then she drove on, scarcely giving the children time to thank her.

“It was God sent us our breakfast,” said Toni. “Father used to say that He sees us, though we cannot see Him, and knows what we are in want of as well as we do ourselves. But now the sun is rising, and we must ask Him to take care of us to-day.”

Nanny stepped out of her little carriage, and under a wide-spreading beech-tree, the branches of which overshadowed them, the children knelt down, and in their own simple way entreated God’s blessing.

Just at that moment the sun, like a ball of fire, rose above the horizon and shed over them his golden beams. We can fancy how lovely everything must have appeared to these little ones, who had never known the beauties of sunrise in the country.

“It seems as if God was holding his shining hand above us and blessing us,” said Toni.

“Oh, how pretty!” exclaimed Hans. “Everything about us is so bright; even the very stones; and the little blades of grass look covered with diamonds, but it is the dew which God sends to refresh them. How good He is! He cares for the plants as well as for us, but He made them, so they are His children too.”

“And look at this,” cried Nanny, full of glee, taking up an acorn cup; “only see what a large drop of dew inside – it must be a bath for the tiny insects.”

Whirr, whirr – up flew a bird from its nest.

“Ah, have I frightened you, you poor little thing?”

“That must be a lark,” said Toni; “look how high it flies, singing all the time; up and up it goes as if it meant to go right up to heaven.”

“Greet father and mother for me, pretty bird,” cried Hans, “for they are in heaven.”

“Yes, yes, and for Nanny too,” said the little maiden; and touching the tips of her small fingers with her lips, she threw them up as if wafting the kisses upward.

“Perhaps the lark will carry our prayers to God,” said Hans.

“Oh no,” replied his brother, looking very thoughtful. “God does not need any messenger to take our prayers to Him, for He is always with us; and even if we just think in our hearts what we wish to ask Him, He knows it all quite well. Father said He was close by at all times.”

“Hark what a pretty song the lark is singing! What a pity we cannot hear what it is about!”

“I will tell you, Nanny, what I fancy he would say,” said Toni. ”‘I thank the good God that He has given me wings, so that I can fly up to the blue sky, and that He has made the sun so warm, and the fields so green and soft where I build my nest.’”

“That is nice, Toni. But listen! there is a bee humming as it flies by. What does it say, do you think?”

“Well, perhaps it is buzzing, ‘Praise God that He lets me rove from flower to flower to sip the dew and gather honey, and that I am such a happy little bee.’”

“Now then,” continued the little girl, “there is a large caterpillar creeping along on the ground. It cannot say anything; it neither sings nor hums.”

Toni was silent a moment; then taking both Nanny’s hands into his, he went on, “I was just thinking, my dear little sister, of something mother used to tell me about that. The caterpillar thinks, perhaps, ‘I certainly am not so beautiful now as many other things in the world, but I have life and can enjoy it. I thank God for that; and some day, when I am tired, He will teach me how to spin myself a cradle in which I may lie down and sleep; then, when I am quite rested, God will come and wake me, and instead of creeping slowly on the ground I shall fly up a lovely thing with wings.’”

“And then, you know,” said Hans, following out his mother’s words, which his brother had recalled, “it will be with our parents something like this butterfly, for first they lived on earth, then God laid them down to sleep in the churchyard, and at last He will come and wake them, and they will be happier and more beautiful than they ever were before.”

“How can you tell what the birds and insects think about?” said Nanny, looking inquiringly into her brother’s face.

“Of course we can only fancy it all,” Toni replied; “but mother often talked about these things, and taught us to be kind to dumb creatures, and never to hurt even the smallest insect that God had made, because they can feel as well as we; and then she would tell us so many pretty stories of their different ways, that it makes me think sometimes they must have some sort of reason like human beings. But now step in, Nanny; we must not talk any longer, but go on our way, or we shall never reach grandfather’s.” The little one settled herself comfortably in the cart, her brothers harnessed themselves once more, and away they went.

Story 2 – Chapter III

When they had gone a short distance, Hans, who had been looking rather grave, whispered into his brother’s ear, “Toni, do not say this to Nanny – but how shall we know where grandfather’s house is? We may wander among the mountains all day long and never find it.”

“God will lead us right,” answered the trusting boy, “and give us strength for the long journey. Only think, we have been up all night, and are not tired yet. But, Nanny,” he said, turning to his sister, “you must go to sleep now; lie down and shut your little eyes.”

The boys stopped, folded up their coats, putting them under her head for a pillow; and, being protected from the sun’s rays by a sort of awning formed of green boughs, she snuggled her head down and was soon fast asleep.

It was some hours before Nanny awoke. They had passed through some villages without stopping in any, and were now beginning to feel very hungry. It was early dawn when they had their drink of milk, and they had tasted nothing since. The little girl began to cry piteously, but Toni comforted her, promising they would get something to eat the very next place they came to. Just at that moment a cart filled with potatoes passed them; and as they followed in its track they found, to their great joy, that here and there one or two had fallen on the road, so they were thankfully gathered up and put into Nanny’s apron, the carter meanwhile having vanished out of sight. Some distance in front was a large meadow, where a flock of sheep was feeding. When they came near they saw the shepherd in the act of warming his breakfast over a fire of sticks he had just kindled. The boys, running up to him, asked leave to bake their potatoes in the ashes. This was readily granted; and not only that – the man kindly shared his meal with the hungry children, giving each of them some porridge and a slice of bread.

How nice it tasted! and how happily they sat round the fire, peeling their potatoes and talking to their new friend!

When they had finished breakfast, the boys, who had been on their feet all night, lay down on a green bank to rest, and being very weary soon fell asleep. Manny was quite refreshed after her nap and hearty meal, and amused herself meanwhile with the sheep and lambs, who soon became so friendly that they would let her pat and fondle them as much as she liked.

After an hour’s time they were again on their journey, and had scarcely proceeded half a mile when a cart laden with wood passed by. The man belonging to it was walking by the side of his horses (his “browns,” as he called them), and stopping to speak to our little friends, he asked them where they had come from and whither they were going. When he had heard their simple tale he looked kindly at them, and said, “You have come a long way, and must be weary, my boys; I will give you a lift. Step out, my little lass.” So saying he lifted Nanny out of her cart, and hanging it at the back of his waggon, was going to help them, when with one leap they sprang up and placed themselves on a log of wood he had put across to serve as a seat. “There now,” he continued, “I can take you ten miles on your way. I wish it had been farther, but I must then unlade my cart and return back again.”

This was a pleasant and most unexpected rest. It passed only too quickly. They were not long in reaching the place to which the man was bound, when, having deposited his load of wood and taken a kind leave of the children, he drove off, followed by many a loud and hearty “Thank you” from his grateful little friends.

It was now mid-day, and they began to wonder where they should dine. It happened, as they passed through the next village, that the peasants were just returning from their work. As may be supposed, the little pilgrims attracted observation, and many questions were asked by one and another till their story was told. Hans, whose thoughts were at that time naturally intent on the subject of dinner, could at last bear it no longer, and said frankly, “You have questioned us about all sorts of things, but no one has asked if we are hungry.”

“Well said, little fellow,” they answered, much amused at this practical hint. Then every one was more anxious than the other to show hospitality to the friendless orphans, till the schoolmaster settled the point by taking them home with him. His pretty house was close by, and having requested his wife, who was in the act of serving up the dinner, to let them have it on the grass, the table was brought out, and they sat down to baked fruit and pancakes – undreamt-of luxuries to the little travellers, who five minutes before knew not where they were to get a piece of bread. To Nanny it recalled the old home, and, throwing her arms round the good woman’s neck, she told her how sometimes, when she had been a very good girl, her mother would give her that for a treat.

Dinner was over, and now it was time for the children to go on their way. The peasants were waiting to take leave of them, and many had brought their little offerings of sympathy: one a loaf of bread, another a pot of honey, while a feeble old woman came tottering along with a bottle of milk. The children of the village said they must harness Nanny’s horses, and admired her spirited steeds, playfully offering them a feed of corn.

So they went merrily forward, accompanied for some distance by a troop of the younger inhabitants, and followed by the blessings of all.

They had proceeded about a mile when they saw a boy in the distance running along the road they were going. They stopped when he came up, and, as he lifted a corner of his jacket, what was their delight to see snugly lying there rolled up like a ball a Pomeranian puppy, about four weeks old, with a soft, white, silky coat.

“What are you going to do with the pretty creature?” they all exclaimed with one breath.

“Give him to whoever will take him,” said the boy, “for we have three more of the same sort at home. Would you like to have him?” he continued.

“That I should dearly,” said Hans, holding out both hands to receive the little fellow, “and thank you a thousand times.”

“You are heartily welcome,” returned their new friend; “indeed, I am obliged to you for taking him off my hands.”

The bottle of milk was at once opened, and, there being no cup, Hans’s hand was filled again and again for the dog to lap from, which he did most gratefully; after which a bed was made up of Nanny’s cloak, and, with her apron to cover him, he was soon asleep.

And now they start off afresh, and their way being for a time in the direction of the boy’s home, he proposed harnessing himself to make a third, and away they went full gallop.

Story 2 – Chapter IV

It was far on in the afternoon when they passed through a beautiful wood. The Tyrol abounds in fir forests, beeches, and chestnuts. We may fancy our little friends, then, enjoying themselves under the shade of the trees. Many hours having passed since their mid-day meal, the loaf of bread was produced, and Toni cut a slice for each with his pocket-knife, spreading it with honey. This proved very grateful to the hungry children, who had tasted nothing since their dinner with the good schoolmaster. Toni and Hans, tired enough by this time, were glad after their meal to stretch themselves on the grass and go to sleep, but Nanny, who had been spared all fatigue, ran about playing with the dog, going here and there, and looking with wondering pleasure at the trees and wild flowers, all of which were so new to her, and talking to the little birds that hopped from bough to bough twittering their pretty songs. The light was playing between the trees, flecking the turf beneath with shadows, and illuminating the trunks of the old firs with a ruddy glow. The little girl skipped about in great delight, getting as she went along a lap full of flowers, which she amused herself by forming into bouquets and wreaths. In stooping down, her eyes fell upon some wood strawberries, which were quite ripe and growing in great numbers. “Oh, what a nice surprise for my brothers!” she said, and set to work gathering as many as she could. Three large leaves were spread on the top of a small rock which served as a table, and when the boys awoke, they were called to partake of the feast. A merry little party they were. And now, having finished their repast by taking a drink of milk from the old woman’s bottle, no more time must be lost, Nanny was told to take her seat, and, the dog being laid at her feet, they again set out.

The sun was sinking lower and lower in the bright sky, till at length it vanished below the horizon. And now the next question was, where they should sleep? Should they go on to the next village, and beg a night’s lodging? For money they had none wherewith to pay for one.

“No, no,” cried little Nanny, quite in love with the pretty green wood: “let us make this our home for the night; the stars will be our lamps, the moss and flowers our pillow, and the little birds will sing us asleep.” She clapped her hands with joy at the thought.

The boys were not unwilling to agree to this proposal, and having drawn the cart under a large oak-tree, they all knelt down upon the grass, and Toni prayed aloud. “Our Father in heaven, we thank Thee for having brought us in safety so far; we thank Thee for giving us food when we were hungry. We are sure Thou wilt be with us in the darkness, and Thou wilt hold Thine hand over us, and not let any wild beast or snake come near to hurt us. Please cover Nanny, that the night dew may not give her cold: do, good God, for Thou knowest she is not strong, and we would like to take her quite well to grandfather. Hear us for Jesus’ sake. Amen.”

They rose from their knees, and oh! how full of delight Nanny was! for around on every side, both on the ground and flying about among the bushes, were numbers of the most brilliant sparks; I am sure if she had tried she could not have counted them.

“Toni! Hans! look,” she exclaimed. “Are these stars? But stars, I am sure, never live in the grass. What can they be?”

“They are glow-worms and fireflies,” said Toni, and explained to her how that by day they looked brown and ugly, and it was only in the darkness they were so bright.

We see Nanny was not without reason in likening these fireflies to stars. She entreated her brothers to catch some of them, that she might hold them in her hand; and they soon collected several, and put them in her hair, so that she looked as if crowned with a wreath of stars.

It was now night, and, under the dim light of a half-moon, the children, weary with the previous day’s exertion, lay down to rest. Nanny’s starry crown soon disappeared; nightingales struck up their thrilling notes, crickets chirped, soft airs whispered among the trees, little birds, with their heads under their wings, roosted in the boughs overhead, and the children soon fell fast asleep, safe under their Heavenly Father’s protection.

It was bright daylight ere the little ones opened their eyes. They soon recollected themselves, for at first they looked about, wondering where they were, and having risen and breakfasted on bread and honey, with a drink of milk, were not long in setting off again on their travels.

So far we have followed them. They had escaped without discovery, their daily wants had been supplied, and they trusted to be before long happy with their grandfather.

We shall not, however, be surprised to hear that, while they had been peacefully pursuing their way, there had been no small stir in their uncle’s house. When he found the children missing, he was almost beside himself with rage. What now would become of all his fine dreams for the future? They had already helped to fill his purse with gold, and he looked forward greedily to more gains in time to come. Find them he must. Inquiries were made in every direction, advertisements put in the public papers, bills pasted on the walls, police put on the search. What would he not do to get them back again? He himself drove out to the country; fortunately, however, or rather God so ordered it, he took the opposite direction to that which the children had taken.

Three days had passed, and the boys were beginning to be very weary and footsore.

In the evening they were wondering what to do, and where to go for the night, when they saw a large number of gentlemen and servants on horseback coming towards them. It was a hunting party returning home.

“Hallo! hallo!” cried one of them; “here’s some fine game. Why, these must be the runaway children about whom there has been such a hue and cry in Vienna. Hold! stop! you are caught,” he continued, addressing himself to the terrified little ones. “Come away with us, and to-morrow we will send you home.”

Nanny clasped her hands, and bursting into a flood of tears, exclaimed, “Please, sir, oh, please not to send us back to uncle!” and Hans, trembling in every limb, begged them to have pity.

Toni was the only one of the three who remained calm, saying in a cheerful voice to his sister, “Do not be frightened, Nanny; the good God knows all.”

By this time the rest of the party had come up, and among them a tall, elderly man with white hair, who smiled kindly on the children, and directed one of his servants to take them to the castle. They were accordingly lifted on to a truck that was conveying the game, the result of the day’s sport; their own little cart was slung on behind; and so they arrived at a beautiful house standing in a large park. Nanny and Hans, sobbing bitterly, with their little arms round one another, were seated on a roebuck. Toni, sitting opposite, looked so smiling, trying in his own quiet way to comfort them, that they at length began to look brighter and dried their tears.

When they arrived the castle was brilliantly lighted. The children were lifted down and led into a large hall, where a number of ladies were assembled, waiting to receive the party, who had been away since early morning.

As you may imagine, great was the astonishment when the little ones were brought in, and many questions were put to them; but it was not till the arrival of the gentlemen that they understood what it all meant.

When they were at length joined by the lord of the castle, he went up to the children, and, looking kindly at them, endeavoured to gain their confidence. He began by gently inquiring the cause of their leaving their uncle’s house. “Was he unkind to you?” he asked.

“Not exactly, sir,” quickly replied the little girl; “but I danced till I could dance no longer. I felt as if I was going to die.”

“It is all true, sir,” said Hans. “Toni and I were afraid we should lose our little sister.”

“I am sure it was God’s will we should try and save her,” interrupted Toni.

“It was God’s will? How did you know that, little one?”

“Why, sir, it must have been God who put a thought into my mind that I ought to get her away. When uncle would make her dance, dance till she fell down and did not know anything, and looked so pale, I thought she was dead. Then I know He must have helped us to make the little cart, and to keep it hidden so that uncle did not see it; and He has led us the right way, and given us food to eat when we were hungry.”

“Who taught you all that, my boy?”

“Nobody, sir,” answered Toni; “only father and mother used to talk about God ordering everything, and told us to remember, and that perhaps some day we should see it for ourselves.”

“Who were your parents?” asked the gentleman, much interested.

“I can hardly tell you; but they were God’s children, for they called Him Father.”

“But what was your father? That was what I meant. What did he do?”

“Well, sir, in the morning he came and woke us and gave us a kiss, and when we were dressed, he read to us out of the big book; after breakfast he went out to teach music, I think, and when he came home he taught us to read and write: that was what he did.”

“Did your father not leave you anything?”

“Leave us anything?” said the boy thoughtfully. “I heard him say once to mother when he was ill, ‘If we die we shall have nothing to leave them, but God will be their friend.’”

“Was it your father’s wish that you should live with your uncle?”

“I never heard him say so; but he was talking to mother one day, and he said grandfather was a good old man, and could teach us to be good, and then he went on, ‘My brother is a wild fellow, but the Lord will be with them and will do for them what is best.’”

“And do you think you will be able to reach your grandfather’s home after all?”

“Yes, sir, indeed I do.”

“But we must send you back to your uncle – at least, so the police say – and what then?”

“No one can send us back unless it is God’s will we should go: father said He is stronger than men.”

“But how will God hinder it?”

“That I cannot tell. He has promised to help those who call upon Him, and what He promises He is sure to do; mother taught us that.”

All who were standing round the children were touched by the simple faith of this young boy, and the gentleman was silent for a moment, while a tear came into his eye. Then he said, “The Saviour’s words come home to me with fresh force, ‘Except ye become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.’”

The children were then put under the housekeeper’s charge, who gave them a good supper, of which they were much in need. The pretty and comfortable beds were not less welcome, where they slept soundly till long after the sun had risen.

At this house our little friends remained till matters were arranged with their uncle. Letters were dispatched telling him they had been found. He was very unwilling to give them up; but at last all obstacles were removed, and their grandfather’s address having been procured, they were in due time sent to him under charge of a faithful servant.

No doubt the old man gave them a hearty welcome. We can tell you little farther about them, but we know they helped to cheer his old age. They did what they could to lighten his cares; Nanny learnt to play skilfully on the harp, so that in course of time, when her grandfather’s eyesight failed, she was able to fill his place. When the young people were out at any time on errands or work, and their grandfather was left alone, the trusty Pomeranian they had named “Caesar” remained in the house as his companion; and when the old man became feeble, and had to rest often in bed, the faithful creature slept at his feet, keeping kindly watch over his aged master.