The White Hunter

by Gilbert, Morris

  “He was a loving man. He loved you greatly, Jeanine. You’ll always have that.”

  Jeanine bowed her head and the tears flowed freely. She looked up and her lips trembled. “While I was tossed around by the waves, I was crying over Clive, and suddenly I began to think of Jesus. I thought of all the Scripture you had read me about how He died on the cross, and suddenly in the midst of death He seemed to be saying, ‘I loved you enough to die for you.’ ”

  “Oh, Jeanine, how wonderful!”

  “I began to pray, Annie,” Jeanine whispered. “And I told Jesus every wrong thing in my life, and I asked Him to fill that blank space that’s been there for so long.”

  Jeanine looked at Annie, and there was a long silence, and then Jeanine drew a deep breath and said, “I’ve led the worst life any woman could lead, but I promised Jesus I’d give Him my life to use. I’m going to serve Him,” she pledged, “as long as I live, any way He commands.”

  The two women joyfully embraced, and Annie knew a new life was about to begin for Jeanine Quintana.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jeb Finds a Place

  August had brought a searing heat to New York, and the summer of 1912 was one everyone would look back on with awe. On one of those hot Sunday mornings, Annie walked along Washington Street toward Kathleen O’Fallon’s apartment, feeling the heat that seemed to melt her from the inside out. She was wearing a plain brown dress that clung to her, and drawing a damp handkerchief from her pocket, she mopped at her face. Overhead the sun was pasted in the sky like a huge yellow wafer, and even the horses passing her seemed to stagger from the force of the heat.

  Passing by a group of children playing stickball despite the glaring sunshine, Annie smiled, thinking, I guess kids would play in any kind of weather—even on the North Pole on top of the ice. Turning down Thirty-second Avenue, a horrible memory of the Titanic going down leaped into her mind, and for a moment she closed her eyes, trying to blot out the scene. She had endured a recurrent series of frightening images of that terrible time, some that would wake her up in the middle of the night, and the few months that had passed since the tragedy had not mitigated the brilliant, flashing images.

  The rattle of a riveter’s gun startled her, and she twisted her head abruptly to look up at the towering skeleton of steel—a skyscraper that was rising out of the earth reaching for the sky. Annie shook her head, for she disliked skyscrapers intensely. She had grown up in a place where the eye could rest on distant vistas with nothing but land and trees and sky and clouds. To be buried now in the canyons of New York had grown more unpleasant the longer she stayed. The advent of the skyscraper built of steel frames meant that the windows in the new buildings could be larger, and at night sometimes the glare of the city lights depressed her even more for some reason. She had been reading some of the reformers who viewed the struggle between sunlight and gaslight as being symbolic of the struggle between vice and honesty. One of them, Maxim Gorky, in his visit to New York had said in a speech that Annie had heard: “At first it seems attractive, but in this city when one looks at light enclosed in transparent prisons of glass, one understands that here light, like everything else, is enslaved. It serves gold, it is for gold, and is inimically aloof from people.”

  As Annie moved rapidly down the street, the heat of the sidewalk almost like a griddle radiating heat, she thought of how she had spent her time since returning from England. It had been fortunate for her in a way that Kathleen had been in such great need. It was like three babies instead of two, Annie thought with a smile, for Kathleen had not a clue as to what to do with herself. Annie had thrown herself into finding a place to live and had spent her earnings on the project until Mark Winslow had heard about the situation from Jeb. Mark had insisted on paying the expenses for the young woman and her two babies and also on financing Kathleen’s new venture—learning to use a typewriter.

  Annie smiled again as she turned into the brownstone structure that had once been a mansion but had been converted to a rooming house when the neighborhood had gone downhill. Stepping inside, she mounted a sweeping stairway with carvings adorning the banister to the second floor. Turning to the right, she knocked on the door and it opened at once.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come, Annie!” Kathleen smiled. “Guess what’s happened?”

  “I have no idea,” Annie said, stepping into the room. “Well, what is it?”

  “It’s James Riley. He’s offered me a job.”

  “James Riley? He’s the young man from the newspaper, isn’t he?”

  “Yes!” Kathleen said, and excitement gleamed in her light blue eyes. “He came by yesterday and asked if I would like a job, and I told him yes.” Two lines appeared between Kathleen’s eyes, and a worried expression flickered across her face. “Do you think it’s wrong, Annie? I mean, I don’t know him all that well.”

  “Why, I don’t see how it could be. He seems to be a fine man,” Annie assured her.

  “Oh, he is! He is! And he just loves Michael and Mary. He stayed over an hour playing with them yesterday before he left.”

  “Well, I think you need all the friends you can get, and Mr. Riley certainly seems like a nice man.”

  James Riley had appeared at the doorway of Kathleen’s apartment seeking an interview. He was finding all the survivors of the Titanic with the intent of doing a series of stories for his paper, the New York Times. Annie had been favorably impressed with the man who was only in his mid-thirties, but his bright, cheerful face made him seem even younger. She smiled now to reassure Kathleen. “I think it will be fine.”

  Annie thought to herself, I’m so glad Kathleen seems to have found a good job. But it would be wonderful if Kathleen could marry a good man who would be a husband to her and a father to the children. A woman needs help in this world. Aloud, she said, “Well, it ought to be a good sermon this morning.”

  As always, Annie’s approval was highly important to Kathleen. She had clung to her new friend constantly, and now she said, “Come on in and play with Michael. He’s been crying for you for an hour.”

  “All right. I’ll see to that young man. . . .”

  ****

  The sermon had been a very stirring one. The church had been so crowded that she and Jeb had been forced to be separated from Kathleen. She had whispered to Jeb that Kathleen had a job now. Jeb had whispered back, “At a newspaper, you say?”

  “Yes. And with a good future. I just wish she could find a good husband now.”

  “Well, she’s a beautiful young woman and has two beautiful children.” He nudged Annie with his elbow and said solemnly, “Save a man a heap of trouble not having to fool around having his own children. A pair of them ready-made.”

  Annie gave Jeb a startled glance and saw the humor in his brown eyes. “You’re just awful!” she whispered.

  After the service the group separated, for Kathleen was never comfortable being away from her children. Mrs. Morgan, her landlady, had kept the children, but still, she said, “I want to get home.” Kathleen smiled. “I’ll see you both later.”

  “How does lunch strike you?” Jeb asked as they walked away.

  “Strikes me fine. Where would you like to eat?”

  “Some place cheap and good.”

  “How about Luigi’s?”

  “That’s a good idea. Come along.”

  The two made their way to the small restaurant on Fifteenth Avenue where they had often gone. The proprietor, a burly man with flashing brown eyes and a head full of black curls, greeted them with a broad smile. “Ah, you’ve a come to have lunch with Luigi!”

  “Bring us the best you’ve got in the house, Luigi,” Jeb said grandly when he seated them at the table.

  “I know. Spaghetti.”

  “That’s right. Nobody makes it like you do.”

  “And no wine. Right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Luigi shook his head. “Spaghetti no taste good without wine. Why you no drinka wine?”


  “Well, we don’t drink any alcohol because we’re Christians.”

  Luigi stared at them. “I’m a Christian, too! I go to mass every Sunday, but I drinka wine. Are you saying I can’t be a Christian and drinka wine?”

  “Oh no!” Annie broke in quickly. “He didn’t mean that. It’s just sort of a custom with our people.”

  “Funny sort of custom,” Luigi mumbled. “You’re missing a lot.”

  “Well, I suppose you’re right,” Jeb said. “But I guess we’ll just have tea.”

  After Luigi left, Annie said, “It’d be hard to explain our feelings about alcohol to an Italian. I think they drink wine like water over there.”

  “I suppose that’s true. When you get to Africa, you’ll probably find the natives there drinking some kind of wine. Will you try to break them of that habit?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be in a position for a long time to lay down any laws. If I can just tell them about Jesus and get them to see how He loved them, that’s all I can hope for.”

  Jeb leaned back and studied the young woman. He was constantly surprised at how her face was a mirror that changed so often. Laughter danced in her eyes at times, and a healthy pride showed in her demeanor. She was a woman of integrity and determination. Despite her mildness, he knew she had a stubborn spirit set against the world’s standards. Right now her face was in repose, and she had an expression that pleased him as he tried to find a name for it. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing much.” She suddenly leaned forward and put her hand on his—an unusual gesture for her. “I don’t think you know how much you’ve done for Kathleen and how much I appreciate it.”

  The pressure of her hand on his was warm, and Jeb wanted to clasp it with his own but did not. “Why, I haven’t done anything.”

  “Yes, you have. You went to Mark Winslow and he did something. If you hadn’t told him, he would never have helped her.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  Annie withdrew her hand and studied him carefully. He had a lean face and a prominent, dented nose. The large black horn-rimmed glasses he wore sometimes drew attention away from his eyes. They made him look bookish, but she knew he was very athletic and strong. In fact, he had won several prizes at running races, although he never spoke of it.

  “I’m all through with my studies,” Jeb said as soon as Luigi had brought the spaghetti and a salad.

  Annie watched as he wound up long strands of it on his fork expertly, something she could never manage to do.

  “I’ll have to go to work soon.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Don’t know.” He laughed at Annie as she tried to bite off a long strand of spaghetti. “Look. You do it like this. Put your fork in here, your spoon here. . . .”

  Annie tried diligently but just did not have the knack for it. “I’ll just have to gobble it down and bite it off the best way I can,” she finally admitted ruefully. “It’s so good, though. And I don’t suppose anyone’s watching except you.”

  Jeb ate for a while, listening as Annie told him about her activities, mostly going around looking for a sponsor from one of the mission boards.

  “You haven’t had any success at all?”

  “No. Not a bit.”

  “Why don’t you let Mark Winslow help you? I’m sure he’d be glad to.”

  It was not the first time Jeb had suggested this. He had told her often that Mark Winslow helped many budding young missionaries. His heart was in foreign missions, and it delighted him to be able to have a part in it.

  “If you only knew, Jeb,” Annie said slowly, “how tempting that is! It would be so easy, and I’m sure Mr. Winslow would do exactly as you say.”

  “Why not do it, then?”

  “I just can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Annie toyed with her spaghetti with her fork for a moment without speaking, then she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just that I feel that God has another way for me. I believe He wants to get me to Africa, but I just don’t know what His plan is yet.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure Mr. Winslow would be happy to help you.” Jeb took a sip of tea, then asked, “What about Jeanine? Have you heard from her again?”

  “Oh yes! She writes very regularly.”

  “How’s she’s doing?”

  “Very well. I’ve been pleased.”

  “You told me she was baptized and had joined a church. What’s she doing with herself?”

  “Believe it or not, she’s in Bible school.”

  “That’ll be a shock for some of the Bible scholars there.” Jeb grinned at the thought of Jeanine Quintana studying theology. “She’s always so direct, but maybe she’s changed her ways.”

  “I don’t think she has, and I don’t think she ever will.”

  “She’ll be in trouble, then. When she was in the world, people didn’t care much what she said. But now she’ll be in churches and talking and moving in a different world altogether. She probably can’t afford to be as outspoken.”

  “I’m not sure about that, Jeb.” She sat there thinking of her friend, Jeanine, meditation turning her eyes mild and soft, and then finally said, “I think God uses the natural things that are in a person.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, I mean some people are slow and meditative, and God is going to take that mannerism and use it. Others, like Jeanine, are quick and impulsive. God can use that, too.”

  “You know, you may have something there. I always think of the apostle John as being sort of a dreamer, a slow chap to move. Although he did try to call fire down from heaven once.”

  “Yes!” Annie said with an edge in her tone. “I think about Peter. He was always impulsive.”

  “Always in trouble, too.”

  “Have to admit that. And Jeanine may have some problems with people who don’t understand it, but she’ll make it. I can tell from her letters she has a real love for Jesus.”

  “You two are certainly an odd couple. You’re so quiet and gentle, and Jeanine comes on like a bull elephant. Or she did.”

  “We’ll make it. God’s going to do something with both of us, but I have no idea what. I know I’ll be in Africa, and Jeanine will probably stay here, but God will use us both, even though we’re so different. We’re all God’s people.”

  “Yes, we are. It’ll be interesting,” Jeb said slowly, “to see how God works all this out.”

  ****

  It was almost a month after this conversation concerning Jeanine that a loud knock sounded on Annie’s door. It was just after dusk and she got up wondering, Who can that be? I’m not expecting anyone. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Jeb standing there, excitement glowing in his eyes. “Why, Jeb. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got news. Can I come in?”

  It was unusual for Jeb to ask to come in. Annie’s landlady was very strict about gentleman callers. However, Jeb did not wait. He came in at once and turned around to face her. “A wonderful thing has happened, Annie! I’ve just heard about it, and I rushed right over to tell you.”

  “What is it, Jeb? Sit down. You’re so excited you’re about to pop.”

  “I can’t sit down.”

  Coming over to her, he took her hands almost unconsciously. Annie was somewhat surprised, for Jeb had always been careful not to touch her. However, she saw that he had no thought except for what was in his mind, and she waited to hear what he was so excited about.

  “I just heard today from one of the applications that I made, Annie. I’ve got an offer of a job.”

  “A job! How wonderful!”

  “It’s more wonderful than you think!” Jeb suddenly grinned and squeezed her hands. “Listen to this. It’s a grant from a university to study the peoples of Africa.”

  “Africa! You don’t mean it! You mean you’re going to Africa?”

  Jeb laughed and suddenly reached out and gave her a hug. “I
’m sorry,” he said as he stepped back. “I didn’t mean to do that, but I’m so happy.”

  “It’s all right, Jeb. Are you really going to Africa?”

  “I really am. And they gave me a choice of the people I’ll be working with. Guess which tribe I chose?”

  “Why, I have no idea.”

  “You’re not very sharp, then. What tribe have you been talking about for a couple of years?”

  Suddenly Annie exclaimed, “The Masai! You’re going to study the Masai people!”

  “Got it the first time.”

  “Sit down and tell me all about it,” Annie said.

  The two talked for over an hour. Mrs. Mulligan, Annie’s landlady, passed by the door once to inquire, and Annie said, “Come in and hear the good news, Mrs. Mulligan.”

  Mrs. Mulligan listened and said, “Oh, you’re going all the way to Africa! Why, that’s what Miss Annie’s been trying to do, and here you’re going off before her.”

  After Mrs. Mulligan left, Jeb turned quiet and rather meditative. Finally he rose and said, “Well, I wanted to tell you the good news.”

  Annie got up from the divan and walked over to the door with him. She turned to him and said, “I’m so glad for you, Jeb.”

  “You’re not mad because I’m going and you’re not?”

  “No. I think it’s God’s plan for you. He hasn’t opened the door for me yet.”

  Jeb had been so filled with excitement, and now that he had told Annie, something new came to him. She stood before him watching his face in that close and personal way that was a manner of hers. He saw her eyes light up and grow warm, and her face changed in a manner that he could not describe. She was everything he had ever longed for in a woman, and the loneliness that always lived in him somehow grew almost insupportable. She was a fragrance and a melody, and the walls that surrounded the two of them suddenly seemed to disappear. He reached out, put his long arms around her, and kissed her. When he drew back he saw her eyes lifted to him, narrow and watchful, but he saw something in them that he had not seen before.