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"The only evil spirit," continued Keith, "is the one who has increased the fever by vile medicine and terrible noise."
"What, the Medicine Man?"
"Yes. He soon would have made an end of your brother."
A fierce look came into Shrahegan's face, and he made a move as if to leave the building. Keith laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder.
"Stay," he said. "Don't do anything rash. I want your help. We must remove the lad to a quiet lodge, and I shall try to undo the harm which has been done. It is the only way to save his life."
Shrahegan looked intently into the missionary's face, as if to fathom the depth and strength of his mind.
"Does my pale-face brother know?" he asked, "the risk he is running?
Does he know that the wrath of the Medicine Man is upon him? that the Indians are very angry, and, if the boy die, the pale-face will die too?"
"I know it all," replied Keith. "I am not afraid of the Medicine Man.
There stands with me One greater than he, who will help me. He is my Master, my Great Chief, Jesus, whom I serve."
"And the pale-face is not afraid?" repeated Shrahegan in surprise.
"Why should I be afraid? What good will it do? It will not cure your brother, and I know Shrahegan will help me."
"Shrahegan will help; he will do all he can. But remember, the Indians are much excited, and, if the boy die, Shrahegan can do but little to help his pale-face brother."
"And if the boy gets better?" queried Keith, "what will your people think?"
"Pale-face will be safe," came the evasive reply.
"Good. Now we must get busy."
By this time the condition of the sick lad was very serious, and Keith knew that whatever was done had to be done quickly and wisely.
Therefore as soon as the youth was removed to another lodge, he brought forth his little medical companion, which Shrahegan had rescued from the Indians, made a careful selection, and rapidly prepared the medicine which he thought best to administer.
But before laying a hand upon the patient he fell upon his knees and poured out his soul to the Giver of Life for help and strength in the time of trial.
Then the fight began, a fight not only for the life of one person, but for the souls of all those around him, sunk in the darkness of vice and superst.i.tion.
For hours he stayed by the side of the sufferer, Shrahegan only keeping watch with him. Seldom they spoke, and then only in a whisper. The day and the night pa.s.sed, but still Keith remained at his post, much of the time on his knees. Shrahegan brought him food, but he ate very little, there was too much at stake to think of bodily wants.
Throughout the camp the smouldering fire of excitement was intense, ready to burst forth at any instant. During the day perpetual watch was kept upon the little lodge, and at night anxious ears were strained to catch the faintest sound. The old chief remained in his own house, silent and bowed with grief. His wives sat almost motionless by his side, not daring to address their imperious master. The Medicine Man prowled like a wolf from place to place, the very incarnation of jealousy, fear and rage.
On the morning of the third day Shrahegan emerged from the silent lodge. He was surrounded by an eager, persistent crowd of natives, who demanded information concerning the patient. To these he said nothing, but going at once to the old chief, led the feeble, tottering man to his son's side. Keith, weary and haggard, arose as the two entered.
He saw the look of surprise and delight upon the chief's face, when he beheld his son lying before him on the road to recovery.
"Great chief," said Keith, "see, your son is better. Soon he will walk again."
"Is the evil spirit gone?" came the eager query.
"All gone. You have nothing to fear."
"Was the Medicine Man here? Did he help?"
"No," replied Shrahegan contemptuously. "He would have killed the boy, and now he is outside, raging in his fury and jealousy. This is the Medicine Man," and he pointed to Keith, "the doctor who has done the good work."
"Give not the credit to me," answered the missionary, "but to the Great Medicine Man, the Doctor of souls, Jesus, my Master. He has wrought this cure. I had but little to do with it."
Saying this, he moved wearily from the lodge, to seek food and rest, leaving the feeble chief and the n.o.ble Shrahegan alone with the patient.
CHAPTER XXVII
GUIDED
When Keith stood before Shrahegan's lodge, the second day after the recovery of the sick youth, the spirit of conquest for Christ's sake possessed his entire being. Once it was only Kla.s.san; then the village over against him; now, the whole northland, with its numerous tribes of the wandering foot.
Then the thought of his helplessness swept upon him. What was he to do? Only one man to carry on the great work. He must have help, men to man the field. If the miners at Kla.s.san would not endure him, some one else must be stationed there, while he worked among the Quelchies, or in some other place. Two or three men he must have, and that as soon as possible. To write for them would take too long, with the uncertainty of their coming. No, that plan would not do; he must go himself.
He, therefore, determined to return to Kla.s.san. The Indians would protect him while there, and when the ice ran out of the Yukon, either to drift down to St. Michael in an open boat, or await the arrival of the first steamer. He would go to Eastern Canada, lay the matter before the Mission Board, and appeal for help. Then, if the men could not be supplied, he would go from place to place, searching, ever searching, till he obtained the ones he required. He would have able men or none at all, he was set upon that.
He was aware of the feeling which prevails in the minds of some that anyone will do for the mission field. But he knew from long experience that on the frontier--the ragged edge of civilization--where life is wild and strenuous, only strong men could succeed; men sound in limb, keen in intellect, and thoroughly consecrated to the Master's cause.
Next, the money question confronted him. Suppose he got the right men, where would he obtain the necessary funds for their maintenance? It meant a big expense to provide pa.s.sages for three or four men, and support them in a land where living was so dear. The Missionary Society, he knew, was able to do but little, and this would be the strongest barrier to his plan. He might appeal for help in the various towns and cities, but such aid would only be ephemeral. What was he to do?
In his perplexity he began to pace up and down before the lodge, and unconsciously thrust his hands into the pockets of his buck-skin jacket, as was his wont when in troubled thought. As he did so he touched the nuggets of gold which had lain there since his return from the rich creek. He drew them forth, gazed upon them, and at once a light clear and strong burst full upon his mind. For a while he seemed dazed by the immensity of the idea, and he stood looking upon the s.h.i.+ning specimens in his hand, thinking it must be nothing but a dream.
"It is G.o.d's doing," he said to himself. "He never places his servants in a great battle without providing weapons for the conflict. I doubted about the money, the means to carry on the work, and here it is at hand, gold in abundance. And why should it not be used for the furtherance of the Kingdom? It is virgin gold, untainted by the touch of greedy men. If it is considered right to use the money which flows into the mission exchequer from many doubtful sources, why should not this be used? Why should missionaries who are in the field hesitate to stake their claims when a new mine is discovered, and use the gold to carry on their work? It has not been done in the past. They have stood aside, watched the crowd arrive, who wallowed in the wealth, erected saloons to further their evil designs, and work havoc among the natives of the land. Then, after watching this, the missionaries have begged the crumbs which fell from these rich men's vile tables to combat the very evil they had introduced. Why should Satan's minions be provided with fine saloons and dance-halls in a new mining camp, while Christ's amba.s.sadors must use a miserable tent or log shack? No, no! it must not be so here! I will bring in honest men to stake their claims as I have done. We will use the gold to erect a temple to G.o.d, a hospital, a fine recreation room, library, and other things for the welfare of the place. Then if the saloons do come, and the baser element, we will be prepared to contest the ground inch by inch, and fight a glorious battle for the right.
"And aside from the work for the white men, why should not this gold be used for the uplifting of the natives? The land is theirs, and in a sense the gold is theirs, and how much better to use it for their own good than to beg it from those unwilling to contribute?"
When Keith was once fairly settled upon any line of action it was not his nature to delay long the doing of it. He thought of the Quelchies he would leave behind for a while, and this caused him a certain degree of sorrow. He had become attached to these uncouth natives during his short sojourn among them. The little children, st.u.r.dy and bright, were much in need of a teacher, while the older ones had listened earnestly to his message.
After his successful victory over the Medicine Man the old friendly feeling returned, and though the conjurer's wrath burned fiercely, he did not dare to oppose the missionary any longer. He had observed no change in the Indians' manner of living. There had been no outward sign of acceptance of the truths he had taught. But in this he was not surprised. He had planted the seed into their hearts and minds, and was content to leave the increase to the Master of Life.
When the time came for him to say farewell the old chief reached out his thin, scrawny hand.
"Pale-face come again soon, eh?"
"Yes, as soon as I can," replied Keith. "Will the great chief give me welcome?"
"The chief of the Quelchies will welcome the brave pale-face teacher.
Come again soon."
"G.o.d helping me, I will."
"Ah, good," and the old man's wrinkled face broke into a weary smile.
For some distance on the trail Keith was accompanied by Shrahegan.
This n.o.ble Indian seemed so different from the rest of his people that the missionary often longed to question him concerning the reason.