Keith remained at his post, much of
the time on his knees. Shrahegan brought him food, but he ate very
little, there was too much at stake to think of bodily wants.

Throughout the camp the smouldering fire of excitement was intense,
ready to burst forth at any instant. During the day perpetual watch
was kept upon the little lodge, and at night anxious ears were strained
to catch the faintest sound. The old chief remained in his own house,
silent and bowed with grief. His wives sat almost motionless by his
side, not daring to address their imperious master. The Medicine Man
prowled like a wolf from place to place, the very incarnation of
jealousy, fear and rage.

On the morning of the third day Shrahegan emerged from the silent
lodge. He was surrounded by an eager, persistent crowd of natives, who
demanded information concerning the patient. To these he said nothing,
but going at once to the old chief, led the feeble, tottering man to
his son's side. Keith, weary and haggard, arose as the two entered.
He saw the look of surprise and delight upon the chief's face, when he
beheld his son lying before him on the road to recovery.

"Great chief," said Keith, "see, your son is better. Soon he will walk
again."

"Is the evil spirit gone?" came the eager query.

"All gone. You have nothing to fear."

"Was the Medicine Man here? Did he help?"

"No," replied Shrahegan contemptuously. "He would have killed the boy,
and now he is outside, raging in his fury and jealousy. This is the
Medicine Man," and he pointed to Keith, "the doctor who has done the
good work."

"Give not the credit to me," answered the missionary, "but to the Great
Medicine Man, the Doctor of souls, Jesus, my Master. He has wrought
this cure. I had but little to do with it."

Saying this, he moved wearily from the lodge, to seek food and rest,
leaving the feeble chief and the noble Shrahegan alone with the patient.

CHAPTER XXVII

GUIDED

When Keith stood before Shrahegan's lodge, the second day after the
recovery of the sick youth, the spirit of conquest for Christ's sake
possessed his entire being. Once it was only Klassan; then the village
over against him; now, the whole northland, with its numerous tribes of
the wandering foot.

Then the thought of his helplessness swept upon him. What was he to
do? Only one man to carry on the great work. He must have help, men
to man the field. If the miners at Klassan would not