"NOW THEN, IF YOU WILL DRIVE YOUR SPEARS TO MY HEART."
"While the chief was speaking, he stood quivering his spear in his right hand. Mrs. Moffat was at the door of our cottage, with the babe in her arms, watching the crisis, for such it was. We replied:—
"'We have indeed felt most reluctant to leave, and are now more than ever resolved to abide by our post. We pity you, for you know not what you do; we have suffered, it is true; and He whose servants we are has directed us in His Word, "When they persecute you in one city, flee ye to another," but although we have suffered, we do not consider all that has been done to us by the people amounts to persecution; we are prepared to expect it from such as know no better. If you are resolved to rid yourselves of us, you must resort to stronger measures, for our hearts are with you. You may shed blood or burn us out. We know you will not touch our wives and children.'"
Then throwing open his waistcoat Moffat stood erect and fearless. "Now then," said he, "if you will, drive your spears to my heart; and when you have slain me, my companions will know that the hour has come for them to depart."
At these words the chief man looked at his companions, remarking, with a significant shake of the head, "These men must have ten lives, when they are so fearless of death; there must be something in immortality."
Moffat pithily observes, "The meeting broke up, and they left us, no doubt fully impressed with the idea that we were impracticable men."
