and one to
Harry, the third being that which had been presented to Jacques by Mr
Conway the missionary. This single volume, however, proved to be an
ample library to Jacques and his Indian friend. Neither of these sons
of the forest was much accustomed to reading, and neither of them would
have for a moment entertained the idea of taking to literature as a
pastime; but Redfeather loved the Bible for the sake of the great truths
which he discovered in its inspired pages, though much of what he read
was to him mysterious and utterly incomprehensible. Jacques, on the
other hand, read it, or listened to his friend, with that philosophic
gravity of countenance and earnestness of purpose which he displayed in
regard to everything; and deep, serious, and protracted were the
discussions they plunged into, as night after night they sat on a log,
with the Bible spread out before them, and read by the light of the
blazing fire in the men's house at Stoney Creek. Their intercourse,
however, was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the unexpected arrival,
one day, of Mr Conway, the missionary, in his tin canoe. This
gentleman's appearance was most welcome to all parties. It was like a
bright ray of sunshine to Charley to meet with one who could fully
sympathise with him in his present sorrowful frame of mind. It was an
event of some consequence to Harry Somerville, inasmuch as it provided
him with an amateur doctor who really understood somewhat of his
physical complaint, and was able to pour balm, at once literally and
spiritually, into his wounds. It was an event productive of the
liveliest satisfaction to Redfeather, who now felt assured that his
tribe would have those mysteries explained which he only imperfectly
understood himself; and it was an event of much rejoicing to the Indians
themselves because their curiosity had been not a little roused by what
they heard of the doings and sayings of the white missionary, who lived
on the borders of the great lake. The only person, perhaps, on whom Mr
Conway's arrival acted with other than a pleasing influence was Jacques
Caradoc. This worthy, although glad to meet with a man whom he felt
inclined both to love and respect, was by no means gratified to find
that his friend Redfeather had agreed to go with the missionary on his
visit to the Indian tribe, and thereafter to accompany him to the
settlement on Playgreen Lake. But with the stoicism that was natural to
him, Jacques s