"And all that time among the Indians! How they must love you."
"If they do they seldom show it. This want of response has so often discouraged the missionaries. They look for some gratitude for what they have done. I have learned not to expect it, and so am never disappointed. I think the Indians beyond the mountains loved me in their own way, and were sorry when I left. But the natives here are hard and cruel. I cannot seem to make any impression upon them at all. They are held in thrall by the crafty Medicine Men, and are fond of tribal wars."
"But you have one faithful Indian in that woman who brought me the soup," Madeline remarked.
"Ah, Nancy du Nord, you mean. Yes, she is a good soul. But she is from the Mackenzie River. She and her husband followed me across the mountains, and have been here ever since. My dear wife did much for her."
"Are the Indians away now?" Madeline asked.
"Yes, although they may return at any moment. There are nasty reports abroad, and I fear there will be trouble with the Hishus. They have been trespassing, so it seems, upon the Big Lakes' ancestral hunting-grounds. From time immemorial this has been the cause of strife. The Hishus are ugly people when once aroused. Oh, for a missionary to work among them!"
"There is one of the Hishus," Madeline replied, "who appears to be rather a superior Indian. That is, Hishu Sam. He has been very good to me."
"Hishu Sam, did you say?" and the missionary leaned forward. "I remember the name. When did I meet him? Ah, yes, now I recollect. It was several years ago. I was up the river in the direction of Hishu. I camped near him one night. He had a very sick child, a little girl, and I was able to give her some medicine so that she recovered. You see here in the North one has to be a doctor as well as a missionary. I had forgotten the incident until you mentioned the name."
"Was that all you did?" Madeline queried.