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Updated: May 1, 2025
This Keith well knew, and unless something was done at once, not even Shrahegan's protection could save him from the angry Indians incited by the conjurer. "Great chief," he said, advancing to the bowed figure, "cannot the Medicine Man cure your son?" "No," came the fierce response. "Does he say he will die?" "Yes, he will die."
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.
"What, the Medicine Man?" "Yes. He soon would have made an end of your brother." A fierce look came into Shrahegan's face, and he made a move as if to leave the building. Keith laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder. "Stay," he said. "Don't do anything rash. I want your help. We must remove the lad to a quiet lodge, and I shall try to undo the harm which has been done.
For a time this was permitted, and then into Shrahegan's face came a look of determination. With one grip of his powerful hand he seized the conjurer by the arm, shook him like a rat, and sent him tumbling out of the lodge. The Indians within the room looked aghast at such a move, and half expected the house to collapse, or something terrible to happen.
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