of your traps, take the lass, an' come with me. I'll
see you back in Fort Henry."

Heckewelder nervously walked up to the tree and back again. Young
and Edwards looked blankly at one another. They both remembered
Edward's presentiment. Mr. Wells uttered an angry exclamation.

"You ask us to fail in our duty? No, never! To go back to the white
settlements and acknowledge we were afraid to continue teaching the
Gospel to the Indians! You can not understand Christianity if you
advise that. You have no religion. You are a killer of Indians."

A shadow that might have been one of pain flitted over the hunter's
face.

"No, I ain't a Christian, an' I am a killer of Injuns," said Wetzel,
and his deep voice had a strange tremor. "I don't know nothin' much
'cept the woods an' fields, an' if there's a God fer me He's out
thar under the trees an' grass. Mr. Wells, you're the first man as
ever called me a coward, an' I overlook it because of your callin'.
I advise you to go back to Fort Henry, because if you don't go now
the chances are aginst your ever goin'. Christianity or no
Christianity, such men as you hev no bisness in these woods."

"I thank you for your advice, and bless you for your rescue of this
child; but I can not leave my work, nor can I understand why all
this good work we have done should be called useless. We have
converted Indians, saved their souls. Is that not being of some use,
of some good here?"

"It's accordin' to how you look at it. Now I know the bark of an oak
is different accordin' to the side we see from. I'll allow, hatin'
Injuns as I do, is no reason you oughtn't to try an' convert 'em.
But you're bringin' on a war. These Injuns won't allow this Village
of Peace here with its big fields of corn, an' shops an' workin'
redskins. It's agin their nature. You're only sacrificin' your
Christian Injuns."

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Wells, startled by Wetzel's words.

"Enough. I'm ready to guide you to Fort Henry."

"I'll never go."

Wetzel looked at the other men. No one would have doubted him. No
one could have failed to see he knew that some terrible anger
hovered over the Village of Peace.

"I believe you, Wetzel, but I can not go," said Heckewelder, with
white face.

"I will stay," said George, steadily.

"And I," said Dave.

Wetzel nodded, and turned to depart when George grasped his arm. The
young missionary's face was drawn and haggard; he fixed an intense
gaze upon the hunter.