Free Tomorrow's Treasure by Linda Lee Chaikin Page B

was reading from the Bible. She could hear his calm, kind voice carried on the wind.
    â€œÂ â€˜The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field:
    â€˜The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the L ORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass.
    â€˜The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.’
    â€œThis is a reading from Isaiah forty, verses six through eight.”
    Katie closed her eyes and felt her tears run down her cheeks and onto a pillow.
    There followed a hymn. Katie had never heard it before; it was unlike any she remembered singing as a little girl. Whether because of the words Dr. Varley had read from Scripture, or because of the sweet voices of the missionary doctor and his wife as they sang, Katie felt a strange yearning and tugging at her heart. And for the first time in years, she found her soul crying out.
    Help me, God! Help my baby, help these good people—help me do what’s right. What do You want of me, Jesus?
    The missionaries’ voices filled the warm air and drifted in to Katie on the cot, the hymn like balm on chafing wounds.
    â€œSavior, like a shepherd lead us, much we need Thy tender care; in Thy pleasant pastures feed us, for our use Thy folds prepare; we are Thine, do Thou befriend us, be the Guardian of our way; keep Thy flock, from sin defend us, seek us when we go astray.”
    From somewhere closer at hand another voice joined in, hesitant at first … a deeper voice struggling with the English language, yet resolutely humming the music. It was Jendaya, singing from where she sat on the hut floor: “Thou has promised to receive us, poor and sinful though we be; Thou hast mercy to relieve us, grace to cleanse, and power to free; early let us seek Thy favor; early let us do Thy will; blessed Lord and only Savior, with Thy love our bosoms fill;
    â€œBlessed Jesus, blessed Jesus, Thou hast bought us, Thine we are; blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus, Thou hast loved us, love us still.”
    The baby stirred.
    Katie looked at the sweet, innocent face.
Yes, early let us seek Thy favor; early let us do Thy will.
    She touched the perfectly formed little head, the intricately shaped ear. “May you grow up to do God’s will, sweeting,” she murmured, “may you learn early to do what is good and pure—”
    She stopped abruptly, raising her head from the pillow to look at Jendaya. The Zulu woman had sprung to her strong legs like a lion and stood frozen, looking toward the hut door. She had heard something that brought her terror. Something in the far distance. Something far different than the music of the hymn.
    This music did not bring peace.
    Katie sat up, fear gnawing at her. She heard it now too. Humming. Humming from thousands of voices, like some great beehive on the move.
    Katie struggled to get up, holding Evy to her breast. “Jendaya—? What—?”
    â€œNight of the full moon. I forgot the full moon!”
    â€œWhat?” Katie’s teeth chattered.
    Evy began to whimper as though hungry, and Katie tried to quiet her. “What do you mean, Jendaya?”
    â€œHide!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHide!
Hide!
”
    â€œJendaya!” From outside the distant hum grew still louder, and it seemed the ground shook from the pounding feet of a great and terrible army beating across the plain. Then there came a blood-chilling rattle, a sound Katie knew well. The Zulu Impi—the twenty-thousand strong army of bachelor warriors—were taking their short, wide-bladed spears and beating them against their shields.
    Preparing for an attack.
    The sounds grew deafening: the humming, the jogging feet, the rattle of blades—
    â€œOh, God in heaven!” Katie wailed. She ran to the hut door and stumbled out to where Dr. and Mrs. Varley stood shading their eyes