“Yes.”
“Tell them also that many thousands of moons ago He sent His Son down out of the sky to teach all the people of the earth His will. Do you understand?”
The chief nodded his head. He had heard the story before, he said, when he visited a village of the Pawnees and listened to the words of a “white medicine man.” He did not know whether it was true or not, but some of the Pawnees had believed it.
“It is certainly true,” replied the border king. “We white men believe it. He healed the sick. He brought dead men to life. He walked on the great lake. He stilled the tempest. He made the winds and waves obey Him. Our fathers saw it long ago, and they have told us.”
“Good! He was a great man.”
“He was the son of the Great Spirit.”
Running Water bowed his head in reverence.
“He told us what was His will, and what we must do to be happy after death, when we go to the land of spirits. He said we must forgive our enemies and do good to them, and then the Great Spirit would forgive us and make us happy in His hunting grounds. Do you understand all this?”
Running Water seemed greatly interested, although a look of indignation and scorn crossed his features when his companion spoke of forgiving his enemies. That was utterly opposed to all he had been taught, from his youth up, though not to his natural disposition. But the look passed, and to the last question he replied quickly:
“We un’stand little. Not too much. My white brother may speak um again.”