"I have two resinous pieces of wood," said she; "you bring some dried branches quickly, and we will soon have a fire."
In fact, after a while a bright fire was burning, and lighted the enormous, brown body of the bear which was lying in a pool of blood.
"Hej, a dreadful beast!" said Zbyszko, boastfully.
"You split his head entirely open! O, Jesus!"
Then she leaned over and felt of the bear"s body, to ascertain whether the beast was fat; then she arose with a bright face, and said:
"There will be plenty of grease for two years."
"But the fork is broken, look!"
"That is too bad; what shall I tell them at home?"
"About what?"
"_Tatus_ would not let me come into the forest, therefore I was obliged to wait until everybody had retired."
After a moment she added:
"You must not tell that I was here, because they will laugh at me."
"But I will go with you to your house, because I am afraid the wolves will attack you, and you have no fork."
"Very well!"
Thus they sat talking for a while beside the bright fire, looking like two young forest creatures.
Zbyszko looked at the girl"s pretty face, lighted by the flames, and said with involuntary admiration:
"There is not another girl in this world as brave as you are. You ought to go to the war!"
She looked into his face and then she answered, almost sadly:
"I know; but you must not laugh at me."
CHAPTER VI.
Jagienka herself melted a large pot of bear"s grease. Macko drank the first quart willingly, because it was fresh, and smelt good. Jagienka put the rest of it in a pot. Macko"s hope increased; he was sure he would be cured.
"That is what I needed," said he. "When all parts inside of me become greasy, then that dog"s splinter will slip out."
But the next quarts did not taste as well as the first; but he continued to drink it and Jagienka encouraged him, saying:
"You will get well. Zbilud of Ostrog had the links of a coat of mail driven into his neck; but they slipped out because he drank grease. But when your wound opens, you must put some grease of a beaver on it."
"Have you some?"
"Yes, we have. But if it be necessary to have it fresh, we will go with Zbyszko and get a beaver. Meanwhile it would not do any harm, if you promised something to some saint, who is the patron for wounds."
"I was thinking about that, but I do not know to whom I should make the promise. Saint George is the patron of knights; he protects the warrior from any accident and always gives him victory, and it is said that sometimes he fights personally for the one who is right. But a saint who fights willingly, does not heal willingly; and for that, there must be another saint with whom he would not want to interfere. It is known that every saint has his specialty. But they will not interfere with one another; because that would cause quarrels, and it is not proper to fight in heaven. There are Kosma and Damian to whom all doctors pray, that illness may exist; otherwise the doctors would not have anything to eat.
There is Saint Apolonia for the teeth and Saint Liborius for stone; but they will not do for me. The abbot, when he comes, will tell me whom I must ask. Every _clericus_ does not know all celestial secrets and everyone of them is not familiar with such things, but the abbot is."
"Suppose you make a vow to the Lord Jesus himself?"
"Of course he is over all of them. But suppose your father had injured my servant, and I went to Krakow to complain to the king; what would the king tell me? He would say thus: "I am monarch over all the country, and you complain to me about one of your peasants! Do you not have my officials in your part of the country; why did you not go to the castellan?" So the Lord Jesus is the ruler over the whole universe; but for smaller affairs, he employs the saints."
"Then I will tell you what to do," said Zbyszko, who entered just now; "make a vow to our late queen, that if she intercede for you, you will make a pilgrimage to Krakow. Why should you search after strange saints, when we have our own lady, who is better than they?"
"Bah! if I only knew that she would intercede for wounds!"
"No matter! There is no saint who would dare to show her an angry face; or if he dared, Lord G.o.d would punish him for it, because she was not an ordinary woman, but a Polish queen."
"Who converted the last heathen country to the Christian faith! That is right," said Macko. "She must have a high place in G.o.d"s council and surely none would dare to oppose her. Therefore I will do as you say."
This advice pleased Jagienka, who admired Zbyszko"s common sense very much. That same evening, Macko made a vow and drank with still greater hope, the bear"s grease. But after a week, he began to lose hope. He said that the grease was fermenting in his stomach, and that a lump was growing on his side near the last rib. At the end of ten days Macko was worse, and the lump grew larger and became inflamed. The sick man again had fever and began to make preparations for death.
But one night he awakened Zbyszko, and said:
"Light a piece of resinous wood; there is something the matter with me, but I do not know what."
Zbyszko jumped up and lighted a piece of pine wood.
"What is it?"
"What is it! Something has pierced the lump on my side. It must be the head of the spear! I had hold of it, but I cannot pull it out."
"It must be the spearhead! Nothing else. Grasp it well and pull."
Macko began to turn and to twist with pain; but he pushed his fingers deeper and deeper, until he seized a hard substance which finally he pulled out.
"O, Jesus!"
"Have you pulled it out?" asked Zbyszko.
"Yes. I am in a cold perspiration all over; but I have it; look!"
Having said this, he showed to Zbyszko a long splinter, which had separated from the spear and remained in his body for several months.
"Glory be to G.o.d and to Queen Jadwiga! Now you will get well."
"Perhaps; I am better, but it pains me greatly," said Macko, pressing the wound from which blood and pus began to flow. "Jagienka said that now I ought to dress the wound with the grease of a beaver."
"We will go to-morrow and get a beaver."