nt and culture. In all ranks and
conditions among men, from the so-called savage upwards, there have been
found more or less profound thinkers, and honest logical reasoners, who,
but for the lack of training, might have become pillars in the world of
intellect.

Both Sinclair and Petawanaquat were naturally quiet and modest men, but
they were not credulous. They did not absolutely disbelieve their
opponents, or teachers; but, while giving them full credit for honesty
and sincerity--because themselves were honest and sincere--they
nevertheless demanded proof of every position advanced, and utterly
refused to take anything on credit. Bigoted men found them "obstinate"
and "troublesome." Capable reasoners found them "interesting."
Sinclair possessed a considerable amount of education, and spoke the
Indian language fluently. Petawanaquat, although densely ignorant, had
an acute and logical mind.

To look at them as they sat there, spoon in hand, over a pan of burgout,
one would not readily have guessed the drift of their conversation.

"It almost broke my heart," said Sinclair, "when I heard you had stolen
Mr Ravenshaw's boy, and words cannot express my joy that you have
repented and brought him back. What induced you to steal him?"

"My bad heart," replied the Indian.

"Was it then your _good_ heart that made you bring him back?" asked
Sinclair, with a keen glance at his friend.

"No; it was the voice of the Great Spirit in Petawanaquat that made him
do it. The voice said, `Forgive! Return good for evil!'"

"Ah; you learned these words here, and have been pondering them."

"Petawanaquat heard them here; he did not learn them here," returned the
red man quietly. "Listen!" he continued with a sudden glow of animation
on his countenance, "My brother is young, but he knows much, and is
wise. He will understand his friend. In the mountains I pitched my
tent. It was a lonely spot. No trappers or Indians came there, but one
day in winter a paleface came. He was a servant of the Great Spirit.
He talked much. I said little, but listened. The paleface was very
earnest. He spoke much of Jesus. He told the story of His love, His
sufferings, His death. He spoke of little else. When he was gone I
asked Jesus to forgive me. He forgave. Then I was glad, but I looked
at Tonyquat and my spirit was troubled. Then it was that I heard the
voice of the Great Spirit. It did not fall on my ear: it fell upon my
hea