"
No answer was made to this ironical remark, but Peter walked in
silence to the place where the missionary was stationed, surrounded
by a guard. Ungque now advanced and spoke.
"It is time for the medicine-priest of the pale-faces to start after
the spirits of his people who have gone before him," he said. "The
path is long, and unless he walks fast, and starts soon, he may not
overtake them. I hope he will see some of them that helped to kill
the Son of his Great Spirit, starving, and foot-sore, on the way."
"I understand you," returned the missionary, after a few moments
passed in recovering from the shock of this communication. "My hour
is come. I have held my life in my hand ever since I first put foot
in this heathen region, and if it be the Creator's will that I am
now to die, I bow to the decree. Grant me a few minutes for prayer
to my God."
Ungque signed that the delay should be granted. The missionary
uncovered his head, knelt, and again lifted up his voice in prayer.
At first the tones were a little tremulous; but they grew firmer as
he proceeded. Soon they became as serene as usual. He first asked
mercy for himself, threw all his hopes on the great atonement, and
confessed how far he was from that holiness which alone could fit
him to see God.
Pages:
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639