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Updated: April 30, 2025
It is the only way to save his life." Shrahegan looked intently into the missionary's face, as if to fathom the depth and strength of his mind. "Does my pale-face brother know?" he asked, "the risk he is running? Does he know that the wrath of the Medicine Man is upon him? that the Indians are very angry, and, if the boy die, the pale-face will die too?" "I know it all," replied Keith.
"Shrahegan," he said, as they moved on their way, "you told me once the cause of your kindness to me, but why are you different from your people? You are much nobler, have deeper thoughts, and are opposed to the Medicine Man." The Indian paused and looked earnestly into his companion's face. An eager look shone in his eye as he slowly replied.
"And do you want a teacher?" "Ah, Shrahegan wants the pale-face teacher to live among his people, to help them. And will he come?" he questioned, looking deep into the missionary's eyes. "Yes, he will come, or send another better," came the reply. "And while he is away Shrahegan will not forget?" "Shrahegan will not forget. How can he when he has seen the light and felt the fire?"
For the first time the prospector's fever possessed him, and all the way back to the village he could think of little but his great discovery. This, however, was suddenly dispelled when he entered the camp and beheld the storm which was about to fall upon his head. "The Indians are much excited," said Shrahegan, who soon found out all about the matter. "I hardly know what to do."
Seldom they spoke, and then only in a whisper. The day and the night passed, but still Keith remained at his post, much of the time on his knees. Shrahegan brought him food, but he ate very little, there was too much at stake to think of bodily wants. Throughout the camp the smouldering fire of excitement was intense, ready to burst forth at any instant.
Then Shrahegan crept softly away back to his own people, and told the chief his story." "And that was why you spared me," said Keith in astonishment. "Yes. Shrahegan saw there the man who saved the old chief's son, and Shrahegan never forgets a kindness." "What! are you the chief's son?" "Yes." "And what would have happened if I had not saved your life, or if you had not recognized me?"
On the morning of the third day Shrahegan emerged from the silent lodge. He was surrounded by an eager, persistent crowd of natives, who demanded information concerning the patient. To these he said nothing, but going at once to the old chief, led the feeble, tottering man to his son's side. Keith, weary and haggard, arose as the two entered.
But remember, the Indians are much excited, and, if the boy die, Shrahegan can do but little to help his pale-face brother." "And if the boy gets better?" queried Keith, "what will your people think?" "Pale-face will be safe," came the evasive reply. "Good. Now we must get busy."
The light of God was breaking, which at last burst forth into such marvellous glory. "Shrahegan," said Keith, when the Indian had finished, and stood looking away toward the East, "what do you want? What will give you rest?" "To see. To know," came the slow, thoughtful reply. "For yourself only?" "No, no! For my people, too. Shrahegan wants them to have the fire, and to see other things."
It was a thing unknown for any one to meddle with the "doctor," and of this Shrahegan was well aware. But it seemed to disturb him not in the least. He turned quietly to the missionary. "Examine the sick boy," he said. "Shrahegan gives you permission to look at his brother." "Is it the will of the great chief of the Quelchies?" asked Keith, turning towards the old man.
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