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Two Boys' Bravery

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Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 1, 1882

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 8, No. 21.

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Two Boys' Bravery.

By Irene Widdemer

Fred Mills, Jim Macy, and George and Tom Hall were going to have a splendid time last vacation. They were going to camp out on the summit of a high mountain, where there was a stream to fish in and plenty of game to shoot. They were not little boys any more; Fred was 15, Jim 16, George 17, and Tom 15. Quite able to take care of themselves, they were sure. So they started off with their tent and everything else they could need packed in an old grocery wagon, drawn by one of Fred's father's old horses. They were going to stay two weeks, and four happier, more important young men could not have been met with. Packed away in Fred's private bag was his Bible. He did not know it, however; for his mother had packed the bag, and put it in with a loving little note, telling him not to be ashamed to confess Jesus before these boys, and she had prayed that his strength fail not. Every day since Fred could read he had read a chapter in the Holy Book; but he had always been at home in his own private room, with no temptation to be ashamed of doing it. So, unconscious of the prayers that followed him, and of the little Bible in his valise, he traveled merrily on, taking his turn at walking and driving.
It was an old horse and a heavy load, so but one boy rode at a time, while the others walked by the wagon. It was a slow journey, but the boys were so full of plans, and had so much to discuss that they scarcely heeded it, and had no thought of being tired. After all they were only going ten miles, and what stout boy can't walk that in a day? They lunched several times by the wayside, however, and as they made a hearty meal each time they decided at length that their provisions would be gone before they shot the birds and caught the fish. So they fasted after that until they came to the camp ground; but then, to prepare themselves for the work of erecting the tent, they had what they called a "square meal."
They were tired that night, and decided to go to bed early. As the darkness gathered around, and the shadows of the wood settled down, they sat outside the tent door, talking about what they were not afraid of.
"You couldn't frighten me," Fred boasted. "I'm not afraid of anything or to do anything."
"I could put you in a place where your hair would stand on end," cried Tom Hall. "I don't believe you'd dare to walk through those woods alone at night."
"Try me."
"Go do it now," said George.
"I would if I wasn't so tired," said Fred.
"You're trying to get out of it," said Tom.
"Am I?" Fred cried. "Here goes," and he started off on a brisk run and was soon lost sight of, though they heard his steps on the underwood of the forest.
"I didn't believe he would do it," said Tom.
"I wouldn't like to unless it was necessary," said Jim.
"Nothing to be frightened at," said George, boastfully, with no intention of doing it.
Fred came running back, quite elated with his own bravery.
"Dare me again," he said.
"'Tisn't every one who would do that," said Jim, admiringly.
"I'm not afraid of anything I tell you," cried Fred. "You go now, George."
"It's too late," rising. "Let's turn in," and as they were all tired they "turned in," without urging the adventure upon George.
"Let's get a light and see what's in our valises," said Tom. "Mother packed ours."
"Mother packed mine," said Fred.
Jim said nothing; he was motherless, and had packed his own.
The contents of the Hall valises were soon on the floor; there was no Bible there.
"Hurrah! a letter!" cried Fred, joyously, and eagerly began to read it. But somehow the light faded from his face as he read; how could he bring out the Bible before all these fellows; they would make fun of it no doubt, and would be "casting pearls before swine." His mother should have thought of that; she surely wouldn't want the Bible made fun of; she would never have written what she did if she knew boys as he did. He would read alone by himself to-morrow, which would be much more devotional, he said to himself, while he knew he meant cowardly, and that he was ashamed to confess Christ before men. He put the note into his pocket, making up his mind to say his prayers when the light was out.
The Hall boys had begun to disrobe, but Jim, who had been quietly unpacking his valise, took a book from it and sat down by the light. And Fred saw it was a Bible, and saw the Hall boys did not make fun of it.
"That ain't a bad idea," cried Tom. "We'll need a Bible out here, if we're to be taken care of."
"I don't see why mother didn't put one in for us," said George. "I say, Jim, couldn't you read a bit aloud? That is, if Fred don't mind."
Fred managed to say hoarsely that he would not, but he never felt so bad in all his life before; instead of confessing Christ these boys surely thought he was very far from being one of His disciples. He scarcely heard one word Jim read. Afterwards Jim knelt to pray in silence, and to Fred's astonishment the Hall boys did too.
"Promised my mother once I would," George said as if to apologize, when he got up, "and I'm going to keep my promise; but if it hadn't been for Jim starting the thing, I'm mighty afraid I should have backed, or did it in the dark for fear you'd laugh at me. Jim you saved the camp."
Fred still said nothing; he had boasted before that there was nothing he was afraid to do, and he had been afraid to confess Christ.
"I don't know how you dared to go into those woods last night," Jim said the next morning when they were alone.
"I don't know how you dared to bring out your Bible and read it when you didn't know what the boys would do. I have one in my valise and I didn't dare to." After that confession he felt better, and he had prayed to be forgiven, and intended to bring out the Book that night.
But whose bravery was the best, Jim's or Fred's? —Irene Widdemer.