he lay trying to sleep in the silent
woods, looking up at the stars and meditating on the wonderful Being who
had done all this. In the simplicity of his nature, he talked to that
awful and dimly comprehended Father of all races and peoples, and asked
Him to tell Omas what he should say, and do, and think.

Unknown to him, To-wika his wife had listened to the teachings of the
missionaries, and she had traversed further along the path of light than
he.

When, therefore, he told her of his longings, his questionings, his
distress, his wretchedness, and his groping in the dark, she was able to
say a great deal that helped to clear away the fogs and mists from his
clouded brain.

But Omas was in the very depth of darkness, and almost despair, when the
fearful episode of Wyoming came. It was in desperation he went into
that conflict, as a man will sometimes do to escape, as it were, from
himself.

He fought like a demon, but he could not hush the still small voice
within his breast. He felt that he must have relief, or he would do that
which a wild Indian never does--make away with himself.

It was on his tongue more than once, while threading his way through
the wilderness with his friends, to appeal to Mrs. Ripley; but with a
natural shrinking he held back, fearing that with his broken words he
could not make her understand his misery.

The only recourse was to go to To-wika, his wife. He had asked her to
talk further with the missionaries, and then to repeat their words to
him.

So it was that when he stole from the camp fire like a thief in the
night, it was not to return and take part in the scenes of violence
in which he had already been so prominent an actor, but to do the very
opposite.

It was a long tramp through the forest to his own wigwam, and his people
were aflame with excitement because of Wyoming; but the warrior hardly
paused night and day until he flung himself at the feet of To-wika and
begged that he might die.

From this remarkable woman Linna had inherited more mental strength than
from her iron hearted father. To-wika talked soothingly to him, and for
the first time in his blind groping he caught a glimmer of light. The
blessed Word which had brought comfort and happiness to her is for all
people and conditions, no matter how rude, how ignorant, and how fallen.

But To-wika felt the need of human help. She had never met Mrs. Ripley,
but her husband had told of his welcome beneath that ro