position, but as to _winning_ the obedience of
warriors or slaves--the thing was preposterous! Yet he had sagacity
enough to perceive that while he could compel the obedience of the
body--or kill it--he could not compel the obedience of the soul.

"How can I," he said at last, with a touch of indignation still in his
tone, "I, a chief and a descendant of chiefs, stoop to ask, to beg, my
slaves to become Christians? It may not be, I can only command them."

"Woh!" exclaimed Wapoota, unable to restrain his approval of the
sentiment.

"You cannot even command yourself, Ongoloo, to be a Christian. How,
then, can you command others? It is the Great Father who has put it
into your heart to wish to be a Christian. If you will now take His
plan, you will succeed. If you refuse, and try your own plan, you shall
fail."

"Stay," cried the chief, suddenly laying such a powerful grasp on
Waroonga's shoulder, that he winced; "did you not say that part of His
plan is the forgiveness of enemies?"

"I did."

"Must I, then, forgive the Raturans if I become a Christian?"

"Even so."

"Then it is impossible. What! forgive the men whose forefathers have
tried to rob my forefathers of their mountain since our nation first
sprang into being! Forgive the men who have for ages fought with our
fathers, and tried to make slaves of our women and children--though they
always failed because they are cowardly dogs! Forgive the Raturans?
_Never_! Impossible!"

"With man this is impossible. With the Great Father all things are
possible. Leave your heart in His hands, Ongoloo; don't refuse His
offer to save you from an unforgiving spirit, as well as from other
sins, and that which to you seems impossible will soon become easy."

"No--never!" reiterated the chief with decision, as he cut further
conversation short by rising and stalking out of the hut, closely
followed by the sympathetic Wapoota.

Waroonga was not much depressed by this failure. He knew that truth
would prevail in time, and did not expect that the natural enmity of man
would be overcome at the very first sound of the Gospel. He was
therefore agreeably surprised when, on the afternoon of that same day,
Ongoloo entered the hut which had been set apart for him and the two
Ratinga chiefs, and said--

"Come, brother, I have called a council of my warriors. Come, you shall
see the working of the Great Father."

The missionary rose at once and went after the chie