“When shall we come again to Geismar, father?” asked the youth.
“It will be a year before our band can return to this region. In the meantime, I hope to send other missionaries here,” answered the great apostle.
“Dost thou think we are near the monastery, father?” asked the footsore youth.
“I believe we are. If we do not reach it in another hour we must light a fire and lie down under the trees. Courage, lad! This has been a fruitful journey. May the converts hold fast to the glory of Christ!”
A year passed quickly. Saint Boniface and his helpers were again working among the wild children of the forest. Often the great apostle’s heart sank when he heard that some of the converts were worshiping their false idols again. A few remained stanch and true to the new faith; others hopelessly confused the old superstitious ideas with the gospel of love and service.
“Thou art not discouraged, father?” whispered the youth, who noticed that Saint Boniface was lost in thought.
“Discouraged? Never!” answered the apostle with flashing eyes. “I am deciding how to strike the next blow at their cruel superstitions.”
In a few moments Saint Boniface said: “Let us stop here for a little while. My plan is made. To-night is the pagan yuletide. Several tribes will gather around the thunder-oak of Geismar to offer sacrifices. The priests declare that nothing but human blood will appease the wrath of Thor. Many wavering converts will be there. Come, we will destroy once for all the sacred monarch of the forest. We will show the poor benighted people that the worship of Thor is nothing but a shadow. Our axes are sharp; our arms are strong. God is with us. Come!”
With new inspiration the Christian band pushed on. An hour’s hard struggle brought them to the thunder-oak, which stood on a broad low hill near Geismar. There they saw several hundred pagans standing in a semicircle around the gigantic oak. Near the sacred tree burned a dull red fire, and in the light of the flickering blaze the Christians saw an old priest and a little, fair-haired boy.
“It is as I feared,” whispered Saint Boniface. “They are ready to make human sacrifice. Forward!”