“You are more likely to hear of them by accompanying us to the mountains, than by remaining where you are,” said my father. “Our Indian guide will be able to gain information; and should any of the patriot bands come into the neighbourhood, you will have the opportunity of joining them. I will introduce our friend Kanimapo to you, and you can consult him.”
The Indian, who was seated at a little distance, near another fire, with Tim, Chumbo, and Candela, was accordingly summoned.
The padre examined his countenance attentively. “We have met before, my friend,” he said.
“I do not know you,” answered the Indian; “you must be mistaken.”
“Mistaken I am not,” said the padre; “but you probably do not recognise me in my present dress. Once you came to the house of Padre Pacheco, and wished to be instructed in the Christian religion. You remember that?”
“I do,” said the Indian. “And I went away as wise as I came; or rather, from what you told me I was convinced that it was a religion that would not suit me.”
The padre sighed. “I am afraid that I gave you a wrong notion of it,” he answered, “and that it was my fault that you did not accept it. But I have since read the Book God has given to man to make known His will, and I should tell you very differently now.”
“I shall be very glad to hear you,” said the Indian, “for I much wish to understand the white man’s religion. I cannot believe that more than one God exists; and He must be powerful and good, or He could not have made this world as it appears to us, or given abundance of food to man as He has done. How to ask Him for what we want, and how to merit His favour, is what I desire to know.”
“I cannot tell you all that now,” said the padre; “but I will, as far as I know it, by-and-by. In the meantime, Señor Desmond wishes to consult you on a matter of importance.”
My father then asked Kanimapo if he would assist the padre, should he determine to join any of the patriot bands.