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But before laying a hand upon the patient he fell upon his knees and poured out his soul to the Giver of Life for help and strength in the time of trial. Then the fight began, a fight not only for the life of one person, but for the souls of all those around him, sunk in the darkness of vice and superstition. For hours he stayed by the side of the sufferer, Shrahegan only keeping watch with him.
The conjurer thrilled with joy as he noticed the effect of his words, and saw the Indians quietly leave the lodge to spread the news to those without. The old spell had still its influence, and he gave a low chuckle of delight. Knowing nothing of what was taking place at the Quelchie camp, Keith returned with Shrahegan after two days' absence.
By this time the condition of the sick lad was very serious, and Keith knew that whatever was done had to be done quickly and wisely. Therefore as soon as the youth was removed to another lodge, he brought forth his little medical companion, which Shrahegan had rescued from the Indians, made a careful selection, and rapidly prepared the medicine which he thought best to administer.
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." It was truly a marvellous spectacle to see this giant savage, travailing in the throes of a new birth. It reminded Keith of a picture which often came to his mind, of the beginning of civilization among his own rude ancestors.
He saw the look of surprise and delight upon the chief's face, when he beheld his son lying before him on the road to recovery. "Great chief," said Keith, "see, your son is better. Soon he will walk again." "Is the evil spirit gone?" came the eager query. "All gone. You have nothing to fear." "Was the Medicine Man here? Did he help?" "No," replied Shrahegan contemptuously.
Come again soon." "God helping me, I will." "Ah, good," and the old man's wrinkled face broke into a weary smile. For some distance on the trail Keith was accompanied by Shrahegan. This noble Indian seemed so different from the rest of his people that the missionary often longed to question him concerning the reason.
Fortune wonderfully favoured him, for on the very day that Keith and Shrahegan left for the gold-bearing creek the old chief's youngest and most beloved son became seriously ill. The Medicine Man was immediately called to the side of the sufferer, who, dressed in his hideous costume, began at once his strange incantations.
Saying this, he moved wearily from the lodge, to seek food and rest, leaving the feeble chief and the noble Shrahegan alone with the patient. When Keith stood before Shrahegan's lodge, the second day after the recovery of the sick youth, the spirit of conquest for Christ's sake possessed his entire being.
"Tell me," he said, "how many pale-face men have entered this valley and went back again?" "Only this many," and Shrahegan held up three fingers. "The man I told you about, and two when the geese went South. The Quelchies did not know they were here till too late to catch them." "Shrahegan," and Keith looked earnestly at the Indian, "will you show me where that gold lies?
"Shrahegan was that boy," came the startling response, "and Shrahegan never forgets." "What! you that boy? I can't believe it!" and Keith looked at the Indian in amazement. "You may not believe it, but it is true. Shrahegan saw you then, and once again at Klassan." "At Klassan!" "Yes, at Klassan." "But what were you doing there?" "Ah, Shrahegan went as a spy.
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