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 Klassan 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 pass 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 God. 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 Klassan 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 hell, 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?"