Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,60

the uprising. When it did not happen, he rebelled. He accepted nothing by faith. He was not looking to a better country. He wanted his farm back. His old life back. The girl he loved back. Here and now. Not someday.

Look to the future. To the house not made with hands. This time, when Daniel finished Hebrews 11, he continued reading, and it was as if God spoke directly to him: Lay aside every weight . . . run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross. . . .

I don’t know if I can do it, Daniel half thought, half prayed. He grabbed up the journal and looked into Blue Eyes’s face. What if the race God had set before him was to be alone for the rest of his life? The thought frightened him. Tears welled up in his eyes. He blinked them away and turned back to the open Scriptures.

Make straight paths for your feet . . . follow peace with all men . . . look diligently . . . . lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you. . . . There it was, Daniel thought. The thing that had almost destroyed him. For months now he had nourished a root of bitterness, had allowed it to flourish and grow until it nearly choked out his weak faith. It was like the vine that grew at the old mission; one small green shoot came out and before long nearly swallowed up the porch. Even now, he thought, that vine had probably swallowed up the rubble left after the fire destroyed the cottage.

No wonder he was so unhappy. The Bible said truly great things were done by faith. Men conquered death by faith. And they got that kind of faith from God’s Word. It had been months since Daniel had opened a Bible. No wonder he felt empty. No wonder there were times when he wanted to die. He almost was dead, spiritually speaking.

Over and over again, the fire waned and Daniel fed it, leaning close, squinting to discern the words on the pages of Robert’s Bible. Near dawn he finally settled back against the rock wall and dozed off, completely relaxed for the first time in many, many moons.

Things happened so quickly he barely had time to react. A scream sounded from above; and in an instant the mountain lion he had heard the night before dropped down the sheer cliff onto the white stallion’s back. The horse’s rear hooves nearly caught Daniel full in the face as he leaped up, snatching his knife from its hiding place in his right boot. Everything was chaos. The bay gelding hopped and whinnied and bucked, rolling its eyes and working itself into a frenzy while the cat clung to the white stallion’s back, scraping the beautiful white shoulders until they ran with blood. The horse went down and the cat sank its teeth into the horse’s neck. Then everything grew strangely quiet.

As the scent of dust and fresh blood filled the air, the cat peered at Daniel across the white stallion’s mane, flicking its huge tail angrily, watching his every move. The horse lay still. Daniel crouched down, licking his lips, trying not to tremble lest the creature sense his fear and come at him. But, just as he thought it, the great cat released the stallion and flew through the air toward him. Daniel screamed a war cry and met the animal, knife extended. The cat barely had time to slap Daniel’s shoulder with one paw before it fell dead at his feet.

Daniel stumbled back onto his rear in the dust, panting, trembling, staring in disbelief at the dead cat. It lay on its side and would have appeared to be asleep except for the handle of a knife jutting out of its neck. His sleeve hung in shreds, but apparently the war cry had startled the animal enough to deflect the worst damage from its claws.

The stallion snorted and began to struggle to get up. Daniel pulled the knife out of the cat’s carcass. He went to the horse’s head and, grasping the rope lead, cut away the braided hobbles. Able to spread his legs farther apart, the stallion regained his feet. He looked at the dead cat and snorted, dancing away, tossing his head. Relief flooded through Daniel as he