n as the Black-Coat!" he remarked loftily. "He thinks because
the Mohawks all turned to his Christianity, that he can get the dark
Delawares. He seems to think there is small difference in Indians,
that they are all alike. He does not know that we Mohawks despise the
Delawares because they worship idols. Before we were Christians we
worshipped the Great Spirit, the God of all good, but _never_ idols.
What good can come of people who dance round idols?" and the old hunter
wrinkled his very nose in contempt.

Young Wampum knew his place too well to argue with the arrogant old
hunter, so he smilingly said good-bye, and leaving them to their pipes
and their memories, he set out for the Mission house, from whence he was
to drive the Reverend James Nelson over to the "Delaware Line" to have
one of his frequent talks with the stubborn old chief, "Single-Pine,"
who for ten years had held out against Christianity, clinging with
determined loyalty to the religion of his forefathers, worshipping the
repulsive wooden idol that, even in their old pagan state, the Mohawks
so despised. Wampum was a great friend of Mr. Nelson's. He was only a
boy of sixteen, but he helped in all the church work, translated Mr.
Nelson's speeches from English into Mohawk and the various other Indian
dialects spoken on the Reserve, drove him about through the rough forest
roads, paddled him down the river, and was the closest companion the
good missionary had in all that wild, remote country. Even Wampum's
parents were Christian church workers, but, kindly as their hearts were,
they, too, shook their heads sorrowfully over the hopelessness of trying
to Christianize the dark, idol-worshipping Delawares.

"Ah, Wampum, boy," greeted the missionary as the young Indian presented
himself at the mission house, "we have good work before us to-day. I
hear the Delawares are having a feast day. They have been dancing about
that deplorable idol for two days and two nights. They tell me that old
Chief Single-Pine danced eight hours without ceasing; that they have
decorated the idol with silver brooches, wampum beads, every precious
thing they possess. It is terrible, and my heart aches, boy, when I
think how hopeless it seems. I fear they will be worshipping that wooden
thing long after you and I have ceased working for Christ's kingdom."

"Mr. Nelson," said the boy, half-shyly. "I don't agree with you. I
heard, not long ago, that old Chief Single-Pine said he only k