sked his life, the
brave lad with no home. Oh, God! give him back to me!" he sobbed. "What
right had I to risk his life for theirs? I should have shot the first
man that refused to go.... Wingo, speak! Wake up! Come back!"

The sweat poured from him in his desperation and weakness. He said to
himself that he had put this young life into the hazard without
cause. Had he, then, saved the lad from the rapids and Silver Tassel's
brutality only to have him drag fish out of the jaws of death for Silver
Tassel's meal?

It seemed to him that he had been working for hours, though it was
in fact only a short time, when the eyes of the lad slowly opened and
closed again, and he began to breathe spasmodically. A cry of joy came
from the lips of the missionary, and he worked harder still. At last
the eyes opened wide, stayed open, saw the figure bent over him, and the
lips whispered, "Oshondonto--my master," as a cup of brandy was held to
his lips.

He had conquered the Athabascas for ever. Even Silver Tassel
acknowledged his power, and he as industriously spread abroad the
report that the mikonaree had raised Wingo from the dead, as he had sown
dissension during the famine. But the result was that the missionary
had power in the land, and the belief in him was so great, that, when
Knife-in-the-Wind died, the tribe came to ask him to raise their chief
from the dead. They never quite believed that he could not--not even
Silver Tassel, who now rules the Athabascas and is ruled by William
Rufus Holly: which is a very good thing for the Athabascas.

Billy Rufus the cricketer had won the game, and somehow the Reverend
William Rufus Holly the missionary never repented the strong language
he used against the Athabascas, as he was bringing Wingo back to life,
though it was not what is called "strictly canonical."

THE HEALING SPRINGS AND THE PIONEERS

He came out of the mysterious South one summer day, driving before him a
few sheep, a cow, and a long-eared mule which carried his tent and other
necessaries, and camped outside the town on a knoll, at the base of
which was a thicket of close shrub. During the first day no one in
Jansen thought anything of it, for it was a land of pilgrimage, and
hundreds came and went on their journeys in search of free homesteads
and good water and pasturage. But when, after three days, he was
still there, Nicolle Terasse, who had little to do, and an insatiable
curiosity, went out to see him. H