"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, sturdy 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."
"God 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 noble Indian seemed so different from the rest of his people that the missionary often longed to question him concerning the reason.