ing.

Chapter XII.

"The Groves Were God's First Temples."

From dawn until noon on Sunday bands of Indians arrived at the
Village of Peace. Hundreds of canoes glided down the swift stream
and bumped their prows into the pebbly beach. Groups of mounted
warriors rode out of the forests into the clearing; squaws with
papooses, maidens carrying wicker baskets, and children playing with
rude toys, came trooping along the bridle-paths.

Gifts were presented during the morning, after which the visitors
were feasted. In the afternoon all assembled in the grove to hear
the preaching.

The maple grove wherein the service was to be conducted might have
been intended by Nature for just such a purpose as it now fulfilled.
These trees were large, spreading, and situated far apart. Mossy
stones and the thick carpet of grass afforded seats for the
congregation.

Heckewelder--a tall, spare, and kindly appearing man--directed the
arranging of the congregation. He placed the converted Indians just
behind the knoll upon which the presiding minister was to stand. In
a half circle facing the knoll he seated the chieftains and
important personages of the various tribes. He then made a short
address in the Indian language, speaking of the work of the mission,
what wonders it had accomplished, what more good work it hoped to
do, and concluded by introducing the young missionary.

While Heckewelder spoke, Jim, who stood just behind, employed the
few moments in running his eye over the multitude. The sight which
met his gaze was one he thought he would never forget. An
involuntary word escaped him.

"Magnificent!" he exclaimed.

The shady glade had been transformed into a theater, from which
gazed a thousand dark, still faces. A thousand eagle plumes waved,
and ten thousand bright-hued feathers quivered in the soft breeze.
The fantastically dressed scalps presented a contrast to the smooth,
unadorned heads of the converted redmen. These proud plumes and
defiant feathers told the difference between savage and Christian.

In front of the knoll sat fifty chiefs, attentive and dignified.
Representatives of every tribe as far west as the Scioto River were
numbered in that circle. There were chiefs renowned for war, for
cunning, for valor, for wisdom. Their stately presence gave the
meeting tenfold importance. Could these chiefs be interested, moved,
the whole western world of Indians might be civilized.

Hepote, a Maumee chief, of