listening
to the missionary's message, and drinking in every word, there was one
person present who was consumed with a bitter hatred. This was the
Medicine Man, who, sitting on the ground, never once took his eyes off
the face of the speaker.

Crafty, base, and devoid of any spark of humanity, he was the terror of
the whole band. Believing himself to be in league with the unseen
powers around him, he exercised over the ignorant and superstitious
people all the influence of his fearful craft. An octopus in human
guise, he reached out, gripped his victim, and held him in his
merciless grasp. His pretensions at curing the sick by wild juggling;
his sleight-of-hand work; foretelling of future events, and conjuring
in order to drive away evil spirits, were all parts of his method of
work.

His greed was beyond description, and he acted according to the price
paid. In times of sickness, women would take their beads to the
"doctor's" tent, silently throw them at his feet, and then return. If
the amount satisfied the conjuror, he would go to the sick man's side,
when incantations took place. If the sick person recovered he would
acknowledge all the praise; but, if otherwise, he declared that some
rival opposed him, who had been better paid. His jealousy was a
constantly burning fire, and woe sooner or later fell upon the man,
woman, or child unfortunate enough to incur his anger. So when he
beheld a rival in the stranger, the pale-face who boldly told of
changes which had taken place at Klassan, where he knew the Medicine
Men had been put to confusion, he determined to bestir himself.

For two or three days he watched the effect the new teaching had upon
the Quelchies. He listened to the earnest discussions in the various
camps, as every detail was carefully considered. He was a silent
observer of all that took place, and insinuated himself into any
company where he was likely to further his designs. What he learned
was sufficient to cause him much unrest, and he realized that some
sudden and startling coup was necessary to remove his rival, and to
re-establish his own influence.

He hated the old chief for allowing the missionary the freedom of the
camp, and he hated the people for listening so readily to the words of
a stranger.

Fortune wonderfully favoured him, for on the very day that Keith and
Shrahegan left for the gold-bearing creek the old chief's youngest and
most beloved son became seriously ill.