"Shrahegan," he said, as they moved on their way, "you told me once the cause of your kindness to me, but why are you different from your people? You are much nobler, have deeper thoughts, and are opposed to the Medicine Man."
The Indian paused and looked earnestly into his companion's face. An eager look shone in his eye as he slowly replied.
"Shrahegan has a strange fire here," and he placed his right hand upon his breast. "Once a black bear, wolf and fox all lived here, but now they have gone, and only the fire burns all the time."
"What fire?" questioned Keith, looking wonderingly at the fine figure before him.
In reply, Shrahegan stretched out his arm and pointed toward the East, where the grand peaks of the Rocky Mountains, snow-capped and sun-crowned, were standing out clear and distinct.
"There," he said, "beyond the mountains, the land of the rising sun, where the great river flows to the home of the lights which dance in the heavens—there the fire began to burn."
"What, the Mackenzie River District?"
"Ah, ah. Shrahegan saw much there, and learned many things. He saw the big canoe, breathing smoke as black as night, flying up the river, and heard men tell of the wonderful things in the land of the pale-face. Ah, Shrahegan found much."
"And you long to see the strange things?" asked Keith.
"Ah, the fire has been here ever since. Shrahegan thinks much. His feet walk in the ways of the Quelchies, but his heart is over there. And what have my people done?" he continued almost fiercely. "They make no change; they know nothing. They live like the moose, the bear, the wolf, and the fox. They eat, sleep, talk, fight, and die, but do nothing. As we are to-day, our fathers were the same before us, and so will our children be. And what has the Medicine Man done? Nothing. He says he knows much, but he is wrong. Shrahegan feels the fire. He hears a strange voice which gives him no rest."