he name matters nothing."

CHAPTER XIX.

THE FOREST COLLEGE.

"Well, how time flies, and the clock of the year does go round! Here's
the elder again! It's a bright day that brings ye here, though I
shouldn't let ye sleep in the prophet's chamber, if I had one, 'cause ye
ain't any prophet at all. But ye are right welcome just the same. Where
is yer Indian boy?"

"He's gone to his own people, Aunt Olive."

"To whet his tommyhawk, I make no doubt. Oh, elder, how ye have been
deceived in people! Ye believe that every one is as good as one can be,
or can be grafted to bear sweet fruit, but, hoe-down-hoe, elder, 'taint
so. Yer Aunt Indiana knows how desperately wicked is the human heart. If
ye don't do others, others will do ye, and this world is a warfare. Come
in; I've got somethin' new to tell ye. It's about the Linkens' Abe."

The Tunker entered the cheerful cabin in the sunny clearing of the
timber.

"I've been savin' up the news to tell ye when ye came. Abe's been to
war!"

"He has not been hurt, has he?"

"_Hurt!_ No, he hasn't been hurt. A great Indian fighter he proved! The
men were all laughin' about it. He'll live to fight another day, as the
sayin' goes, and so will the enemy. Well, I always thought that there
was no need of killin' people. Let them alone, and they will all die
themselves; and as for the enemy, let them alone, and they will come
home waggin' their tails behind them, as the ditty says. Well, I must
tell ye. Abe's been to war. He didn't see the enemy, nor fight, nor
nothin'. But a wild Indian came right into his camp, and the soldiers
started up to kill him, and what do ye suppose Abe did?"

"I think he did what he thought to be right."

"He let him go! There! what do you think of that? He just went to
fightin' his own company to save the Indian. There's a warrior for ye!
And that wasn't all. He talked in such a way that he frightened his own
men, and he just gave the Indian some bread and cheese, and let him off.
And the Indian went off blessin' him. Abe will never make a soldier or
handle armies much, after all yer prophecies. Such a soldier as that
ought to be rewarded a pinfeather."

"His conduct was after the Galilean teaching--was it not?--and produced
the result of making the Indian a friend. Was not that a good thing to
do? Who was the Indian?"

"It was old Main-Pogue. He was uncle, or somethin', to that boy who used
to travel about with you, teachin' you the languag