It was summer, and there was to be a great Indian Potlatch feast under the
autumn moon. The Potlatch is a feast of gifts. It is usually a peaceful
gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances; but it bodes
war and massacre and danger if it end with the dance of the evil spirits,
or the devil dance, as it has been known--a dance which the English
Government has recently forbidden among the Northwestern tribes.

The Indians were demanding that the great fall Potlatch should end with
this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of blood. The white people
everywhere were disturbed by these reports, for they feared what might be
the secret intent of this wild revel. The settlers all regarded with
apprehension the October moon.

The tall schoolmaster watched the approach of Mrs. Woods and Gretchen with
a curious interest. The coming of a pupil with no books and a violin was
something unexpected. He stepped forward with a courtly grace and greeted
them most politely, for wherever Marlowe Mann might be, he never forgot
that he was a gentleman.

"This is my gal what I have brought to be educated," said Mrs. Woods,
proudly. "They think a great deal of education up around Boston where I
came from. Where did you come from?"

"From Boston."

"So I have been told--from Harvard College. Can I speak with you a minute
in private?"

"Yes, madam. Step aside."

"I suppose you are kinder surprised that I let my gal there, Gretchen,
bring her violin with her; but I have a secret to tell ye. Gretchen is a
kind of a poet, makes rhymes, she does; makes _fool_ rhyme with _school_,
and such things as that. Now, I don't take any interest in such things.
But she does play the violin beautiful. Learned of a German teacher. Now,
do you want to know why I let her bring her violin? Well, I thought it
might _help_ you. You've got a hard lot of scholars to deal with out here,
and there are Injuns around, too, and one never knows what they may do.

"Well, schoolmaster, you never heard nothin' like that violin. It isn't no
evil spirit that is in Gretchen's violin; it's an angel. I first noticed
it one day when husband and I had been havin' some words. We have words
sometimes. I have a lively mind, and know how to use words when I am
opposed. Well, one day when husband and I had been havin' words, which we
shouldn't, seein' we are Methody, Gretchen began to cry, and went and got
her violin, and began to play just like a bird. And my h