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nt and culture. In all ranks and conditions among men, from the so-called savage upwards, there have been found more or less profound thinkers, and honest logical reasoners, who, but for the lack of training, might have become pillars in the world of intellect. Both Sinclair and Petawanaquat were naturally quiet and modest men, but they were not credulous. They did not absolutely disbelieve their opponents, or teachers; but, while giving them full credit for honesty and sincerity--because themselves were honest and sincere--they nevertheless demanded proof of every position advanced, and utterly refused to take anything on credit. Bigoted men found them "obstinate" and "troublesome." Capable reasoners found them "interesting." Sinclair possessed a considerable amount of education, and spoke the Indian language fluently. Petawanaquat, although densely ignorant, had an acute and logical mind. To look at them as they sat there, spoon in hand, over a pan of burgout, one would not readily have guessed the drift of their conversation. "It almost broke my heart," said Sinclair, "when I heard you had stolen Mr Ravenshaw's boy, and words cannot express my joy that you have repented and brought him back. What induced you to steal him?" "My bad heart," replied the Indian. "Was it then your _good_ heart that made you bring him back?" asked Sinclair, with a keen glance at his friend. "No; it was the voice of the Great Spirit in Petawanaquat that made him do it. The voice said, `Forgive! Return good for evil!'" "Ah; you learned these words here, and have been pondering them." "Petawanaquat heard them here; he did not learn them here," returned the red man quietly. "Listen!" he continued with a sudden glow of animation on his countenance, "My brother is young, but he knows much, and is wise. He will understand his friend. In the mountains I pitched my tent. It was a lonely spot. No trappers or Indians came there, but one day in winter a paleface came. He was a servant of the Great Spirit. He talked much. I said little, but listened. The paleface was very earnest. He spoke much of Jesus. He told the story of His love, His sufferings, His death. He spoke of little else. When he was gone I asked Jesus to forgive me. He forgave. Then I was glad, but I looked at Tonyquat and my spirit was troubled. Then it was that I heard the voice of the Great Spirit. It did not fall on my ear: it fell upon my hea
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