must bring me, not scalps, but heads,
two heads, and then will I give thee, not bark, but a brave-beaded
belt, and sheath, and long Russian knife. Then will I look kindly upon
thee once again, and all will be well."

"So," the man pondered. "So." Then he turned and passed out through
the light.

"Nay, O Keesh!" she called after him. "Not two heads, but three at
least!"

* * * * *

But Keesh remained true to his conversion, lived uprightly, and made
his tribespeople obey the gospel as propounded by the Rev. Jackson
Brown. Through all the time of the Fishing he gave no heed to the
Tana-naw, nor took notice of the sly things which were said, nor of
the laughter of the women of the many tribes. After the Fishing, Gnob
and his people, with great store of salmon, sun-dried and smoke-cured,
departed for the Hunting on the head reaches of the Tana-naw. Keesh
watched them go, but did not fail in his attendance at Mission
service, where he prayed regularly and led the singing with his deep
bass voice.

The Rev. Jackson Brown delighted in that deep bass voice, and because
of his sterling qualities deemed him the most promising convert.
Macklewrath doubted this. He did not believe in the efficacy of the
conversion of the heathen, and he was not slow in speaking his mind.
But Mr. Brown was a large man, in his way, and he argued it out with
such convincingness, all of one long fall night, that the trader,
driven from position after position, finally announced in desperation,
"Knock out my brains with apples, Brown, if I don't become a convert
myself, if Keesh holds fast, true blue, for two years!" Mr. Brown
never lost an opportunity, so he clinched the matter on the spot
with a virile hand-grip, and thenceforth the conduct of Keesh was to
determine the ultimate abiding-place of Macklewrath's soul.

But there came news one day, after the winter's rime had settled down
over the land sufficiently for travel. A Tana-naw man arrived at the
St. George Mission in quest of ammunition and bringing information
that Su-Su had set eyes on Nee-Koo, a nervy young hunter who had bid
brilliantly for her by old Gnob's fire. It was at about this time that
the Rev. Jackson Brown came upon Keesh by the wood-trail which leads
down to the river. Keesh had his best dogs in the harness, and shoved
under the sled-lashings was his largest and finest pair of snow-shoes.

"Where goest thou, O Keesh? Hunting?" Mr. Brown a