CHAPTER 16
[Illustration]
Man is a changeable creature--despairing one moment, filled with joy and confidence the next. “The sun shines differently every day,” was the way Turgen’s father had put it, and he found wisdom in the words. How different yesterday was from today, he thought upon wakening, and all because of two dark eyes full of anxiety which greeted him across the room.
Turgen rose, went to the lamb and stroked its head, under the soft brown-gray curls were hard knob-like growths which would one day become horns. Although the lamb shrank from his touch and tried to hide by closing its eyes, it did not struggle as before. Nor did fear prevent it from drinking a large bowl of milk for breakfast.
“Oho!” Turgen exclaimed with satisfaction. “Anyone with a hearty appetite like yours can not be suffering from internal injuries.”
After the feeding, Turgen washed his patient’s wounds and covered them with a mixture of fish oil and tar. “The oil is healing, the smell of tar will keep flies and insects away.” This, too, Turgen had learned from his father. He thought of freeing the lamb of the bandages, but decided “No. He’s too young and frightened to be trusted. He would only injure himself more.” As he worked Turgen talked aloud, sometimes to himself and sometimes to the lamb but always keeping his voice quiet so that the young stranger would not take alarm.
The chores that day were like child’s play, so busy was Turgen’s mind with plans. Returning from Marfa’s with a fresh supply of milk for Lad, as he called the lamb--he thought, “What good fortune has come to me. When Lad gets well I will take him back to the herd myself.” And he pictured the reunion of the rams, how Lad would tell his family of Turgen’s kindness. Who could say?--the news might even reach the ears of the Great Spirit. For Turgen could not forget his dream. He was convinced the lamb had come to him for a purpose, as a messenger from the old man on the mountain to test Turgen’s devotion. Should he receive care and attention, then Turgen at his death would be granted permission to enter that world of beauty where his wife and son dwelt, where wolves were nurses to creatures supposed to be their natural enemies.
Such thoughts made Turgen very happy. It seemed that on this bright and sparkling day the birds were gayer, the grass greener, the brook more talkative than he had ever known them to be before.
When Lad’s wants had been attended to, Turgen went as usual to the Rams’ Mountain with a feeding of hay. To his disappointment no rams appeared, though he waited behind his special rock for some time.
“Is it possible they have gone away because of yesterday’s accident?” he worried. “No, surely not. They will return. They must. Not just because of the food, but to look for the lamb.”
This thought had hardly come to him when he caught sight of the leader ram opposite him on the stone bridge. The old fellow moved slowly, stopping from time to time to peer into the ravine. There was something very forlorn about him and Turgen’s heart went out to him. As he came to the middle of the bridge he paused, then on what seemed to be a sudden impulse, he turned, leaped and vanished.
Had he gone back to the herd? Turgen wondered. But no. There he was on the ledge where the lamb had fallen.
“Eh, poor fellow,” Turgen addressed him silently. “It’s too bad I can’t tell you that your boy is alive, that I am caring for him and will soon return him to you. Don’t grieve. I will keep my word. And you--you must not go away from here.”
##