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Constance shrank inwardly from touching the extended member, but she knew it would not do to show any sign of fear or disgust.
"Good," said the chief, when she had complied with his wish, motioning her to a stool near by.
As Constance obeyed, she noticed that a lighted candle stood by the old man's side. Before him were two small pictures, which aroused her curiosity, for in the dimness of the cabin she could not tell what they were.
The chief loved pictures dearly, and because he was too old to read they were doubly precious. He treasured each one which the missionary had given him with the greatest care, and was never weary with asking questions about their meaning, till the complete stories were indelibly impressed upon his mind. What a comfort they had been to him through the long evenings, as he sat in the darkness of his cabin.
Since Jennie had left him, and the mission house had been burned, the chief had been fighting a hard battle with himself, and the crisis had just been reached when Constance arrived. He realized that when his people returned from the mountains and learned what had been done there would be much excitement and anger. Carried away by the impulse of the moment, they would be tempted to drive the whites out of Kla.s.san in no gentle manner, unless restrained in time. They would look to him, their leader, and what was he to say? He himself was undecided. At times his old savage nature almost overwhelmed him when he brooded upon the injustice which had been done. At such moments, if the natives had returned, it would have gone hard with the miners. He thought of what the missionary had told him about Moses fighting great battles and defeating his enemies. Then he would bring out the picture of the patriarch, with his hands upheld by Aaron and Hur, while the battle raged below. Would it not be right, he thought, to do the same now, and thus save his people?
But gradually the feeling of anger would pa.s.s away, and he would bring forth his other favourite picture of Christ hanging on the cross, and gaze for a long time upon it. This man was greater than Moses, so he had been told, in fact, the greatest who had ever lived, the Son of G.o.d. He forgave those who injured Him, and prayed for them with almost His last breath. For days, the power of the Man of Sorrows had been making itself felt in the old chief's heart, and then the picture of Moses was laid aside. But in an evil moment Pritchen had arrived, demanded the photograph of Kenneth Radhurst, and roused the chief's anger. In Indian and broken English he had vented upon the white man the fury of his wrath, and refused to grant his request.
Since then the two pictures were studied together, the struggle becoming fiercer all the time. How little the miners at Kla.s.san realized that in that despised cabin their lives were being weighed in the balance; that light was contending with darkness; the love of Christ with the hatred of h.e.l.l, and that only little was needed to decide one way or the other. Such was the condition when Constance arrived upon the scene.
Knowing nothing of the conflict which was raging in the chief's heart, Constance sat upon the rough stool uncertain what to say. The flickering light of the candle fell upon her puzzled face, while her blue-veined hands lay clasped in her lap. It was a strange sight, worthy of the brush of a master, this fair woman, the stately flower of a dominant race, and the two old Indians, sere and withered, like clinging leaves in late November.
"Pretty picture," Constance at length remarked, breaking the silence, which was becoming painful.
"Good," answered the old man, lifting up his treasures with pride, and handing them to her. "Beeg chief," he continued, much pleased at the pale-face woman's interest. "You got all same peegee? You savvy 'um?"
Constance shook her head and smiled. "No, not like these. But I have one here," and she drew forth Kenneth's picture from beneath her jacket. "See."
The chief took it in his trembling hand, and held it up close to the candle. Then he turned it over, examined it carefully, while a surprised look pa.s.sed over his face. Presently he reached to the left, and drew towards him a buckskin bag, and fumbling in this brought out the picture Pritchen had given him, the same one Jennie had copied.
Finding it was safe, he appeared more satisfied, but still seemed much puzzled as he laid the two together and gazed earnestly upon them.
"All same peegee," he exclaimed at length. "You savvy 'um?"
"Yes," replied Constance, trembling with intense eagerness. "My brother."
"Ah," came the slow, unsatisfactory response.
"You know him?" she continued.
The old man shook his head. "Me no savvy."
"But where you get picture?" she persisted, pointing to the photograph.
Still he shook his head, and looked intently into Constance's face, as if to read the meaning of her words.
Suddenly a laugh filled the room, coa.r.s.e and startling. It came from the old woman, who had been an amused and silent spectator of the whole scene. Then ensued an animated conversation between the aged pair, and, as Constance listened, without understanding a word, she noticed that the chief's face was clearing of its puzzled expression.
"Him no savvy," said the woman, turning to Constance. "Me savvy much.
Me talk all same white man."
"Then you will tell me where that picture came from," replied Constance eagerly.
The woman chuckled and reached out a scrawny hand for the photograph.
"See um, peegee?" she demanded.
Constance nodded.
"Black bear geeve um dis."
"Black bear!" queried Constance in surprise, not knowing that this was the most offensive epithet in the Tukudh vocabulary.
Again the old woman chuckled and grinned, exhibiting her toothless gums. Then she arose, and drawing close to Constance, pointed in the direction of the miners' cabins, while a fierce look came into her wrinkled face.
"There, there!" she cried. "Him there. Bad man. Black bear, ugh!"
"Who is he? Tell me his name," replied Constance, shrinking back involuntarily from the excited creature before her.
"No, me no savvy."
"What, don't know his name?"
"Me no savvy."
"But how did the chief get this picture?"
The old woman looked at her silently for a while, as if collecting her thoughts. Then, in broken English, she told her tale of the mean trick which had been imposed upon them. So vivid was the description that Constance knew it could be Pritchen and no one else. It came to her with a shock, for she feared him more than all the others, and somehow she felt that he was responsible for all the trouble which had taken place. How could she go to him and ask him what he knew? Would he not only laugh at her?
At length, sick at heart, she arose to go. Before leaving, however, she shook hands with the chief, and turning to his wife, said:
"I want to thank the chief for giving medicine to heal my father."
"You fadder?" asked the woman in surprise.
"Yes, the missionary got it. My father was very sick, and it made him better. You tell chief that?"
"Me tell um by um by. Me glad." Suddenly she added: "You all same Clistin?"
"What?" and Constance looked her surprise.
"You all same Clistin? You pray?"
"Oh, yes, I pray, and try to be a Christian."
"You fadder all same Clistin?"
"Yes."
"Good. Me glad."
Then she added: "White man all Clistin?"
"No," answered Constance doubtfully.
"Some bad man Clistin, eh?"