d afflictions his own, he still desired a seclusion
where his domestic cares and enjoyments were safe from constant
interruption. This explains why his cabin had been erected at such a
distance from his people.

Every day, no matter what might be the weather, the missionary visited
the village, and each Sabbath afternoon, when possible, service was
held. This was almost invariably attended by the entire population,
who now listened attentively to what was uttered, and often sought to
follow the counsels uttered by the good man. A year's residence had
sufficed to win the respect and confidence of the Indians, and to
convince the faithful servant that the seed he had sown was already
springing up and bearing fruit.

About a mile from the river, in a dense portion of the wood, are
seated two persons, in friendly converse. But a glance would be
required to reveal that one of these was our old friend Teddy, in the
most jovial and communicative of moods. The other, painted and
bedaubed until his features were scarcely recognizable, and attired in
the gaudy Indian apparel, sufficiently explains his identity. A small
jug sitting between them, and which is frequently carried to the mouth
of each, may disclose why, on this particular morning, they seemed on
such confidential terms. The sad truth was that the greatest drawback
to Harvey Richter's ministrations was his own servant Teddy. The
Indians could not understand why he who lived constantly with the
missionary, should be so careless and reckless, and should remain
"without the fold," when the good man exhorted them in such earnest
language to become Christians. It was incomprehensible to their minds,
and served to fill more than one with a suspicion that all was not
what it should be. Harvey had spent many an hour with Teddy, in
earnest, prayerful expostulation, but, thus far, to no purpose.

For six months after the advent of the missionary and his wife,
nothing had been seen or heard of the strange hunter, when, one cold
winter's morning, as the former was returning from the village through
the path, a rifle was discharged, and the bullet whizzed within an
inch or two of his eyes. He might have believed it to be one of the
Indians, had he not secured a fair look at the man as he ran away. He
said nothing of it to his wife or Teddy, although it occasioned him
much trouble and anxiety of mind.

A month or two later, when Teddy was hunting in the woods, and had
paused a