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a Christian。
〃Brothers； the paleface teacher beseeches you。 Think not of this long； bloody
war； of your dishonored dead； of your silenced wigwams； of your nameless
graves； of your homeless children。 Think of the future。 One word from you will
make peace over all this broad land。 The paleface must honor a Christian。 He
can steal no Christian's land。 All the palefaces； as many as the stars of the
great white path； dare not invade the Village of Peace。 For God smiles here。
Listen to His words： 'Come unto me all that are weary and heavy laden； and I
will give you rest。'〃
Over the multitude brooded an impressive； solemn silence。 Then an aged
Delaware chief rose； with a mien of profound thought； and slowly paced before
the circle of chiefs。 Presently he stopped； turned to the awaiting Indians；
and spoke：
〃Netawatwees is almost persuaded to be a Christian。〃 He resumed his seat。
Another interval of penetrating quiet ensued。 At length a venerable…looking
chieftain got up：
〃White Eyes hears the rumbling thunder in his ears。 The smoke blows from his
eyes。 White Eyes is the oldest chief of the Lenni…Lenape。 His days are many；
they are full； they draw near the evening of his life； he rejoices that wisdom
is come before his sun is set。
〃White Eyes believes the young White Father。 The ways of the Great Spirit are
many as the fluttering leaves； they are strange and secret as the flight of a
loon； White Eyes believes the redman's happy hunting grounds need not be
forgotten to love the palefaces' God。 As a young brave pants and puzzles over
his first trail； so the grown warrior feels in his understanding of his God。
He gropes blindly through dark ravines。
〃White Eyes speaks few words to…day； for he is learning wisdom； he bids his
people hearken to the voice of the White Father。 War is wrong； peace is best。
Love is the way to peace。 The paleface advances one step nearer his God。 He
labors for his home； he keeps the peace； he asks but little； he frees his
women。 That is well。 White Eyes has spoken。〃
The old chief slowly advanced toward the Christian Indians。 He laid aside his
knife and tomahawk； and then his eagle plumes and war…bonnet。 Bareheaded； he
seated himself among the converted redmen。 They began chanting in low；
murmuring tones。
Amid the breathless silence that followed this act of such great significance；
Wingenund advanced toward the knoll with slow； stately step。 His dark eye
swept the glade with lightning scorn； his glance alone revealed the passion
that swayed him。
〃Wingenund's ears are keen； they have heard a feather fall in the storm； now
they hear a soft…voiced thrush。 Wingenund thunders to his people； to his
friends； to the chiefs of other tribes： 'Do not bury the hatchet！' The young
White Father's tongue runs smooth like the gliding brook； it sings as the
thrush calls its mate。 Listen； but wait； wait！ Let time prove his beautiful
tale； let the moons go by over the Village of Peace。
〃Wingenund does not flaunt his wisdom。 He has grown old among his warriors； he
loves them； he fears for them。 The dream of the palefaces' beautiful forest
glimmers as the rainbow glows over the laughing falls of the river。 The dream
of the paleface is too beautiful to come true。 In the days of long ago； when
Wingenund's forefathers heard not the paleface's ax； they lived in love and
happiness such as the young White Father dreams may come again。 They waged no
wars。 A white dove sat in every wigwam。 The lands were theirs and they were
rich。 The paleface came with his leaden death； his burning firewater； his
ringing ax； and the glory of the redmen faded forever。
〃Wingenund seeks not to inflame his braves to anger。 He is sick of
blood…spillingnot from fear； for Wingenund cannot feel fear。 But he asks his
people to wait。 Remember； the gifts of the paleface ever contained a poisoned
arrow。 Wingenund's heart is sore。 The day of the redman is gone。 His sun is
setting。 Wingenund feels already the gray shades of evening。〃
He stopped one long moment as if to gather breath for his final charge to his
listeners。 Then with a magnificent gesture he thundered：
〃Is the Delaware a fool？ When Wingenund can cross unarmed to the Big Water he
shall change his mind。 When Deathwind ceases to blow his bloody trail over the
fallen leaves Wingenund will believe。〃
Chapter XIII。
As the summer waned； each succeeding day； with its melancholy calm； its
changing lights and shades； its cool； damp evening winds； growing more and
more suggestive of autumn； the little colony of white people in the Village of
Peace led busy； eventful lives。
Upwards of fifty Indians； several of them important chiefs； had become
converted since the young missionary began preaching。 Heckewelder declared
that this was a wonderful showing； and if it could be kept up would result in
gaining a hold on the Indian tribes which might not be shaken。 Heckewelder
had succeeded in interesting the savages west of the Village of Peace to the
extent of permitting him to establish missionary posts in two other
localitiesone near Goshhocking； a Delaware town； and one on the Muskingong；
the principal river running through central Ohio。 He had； with his helpers；
Young and Edwards； journeyed from time to time to these points； preaching；
making gifts； and soliciting help from chiefs。
The most interesting feature； perhaps； of the varied life of the missionary
party was a rivalry between Young and Edwards for the elder Miss Wells。
Usually Nell's attractiveness appealed more to men than Kate's； however； in
this instance； although the sober teachers of the gospel admired Nell's
winsome beauty； they fell in love with Kate。 The missionaries were both under
forty； and good； honest men； devoted to the work which had engrossed them for
years。 Although they were ardent lovers； certainly they were not picturesque。
Two homelier men could hardly have been found。 Moreover； the sacrifice of
their lives to missionary work had taken them far from the companionship of
women of their own race； so that they lacked the ease of manner which women
like to see in men。 Young and Edwards were awkward； almost uncouth。
Embarrassment would not have done justice to their state of feeling while
basking in the shine of Kate's quiet smile。 They were happy； foolish； and
speechless。
If Kate shared in the merriment of the othersHeckewelder could not conceal
his； and Nell did not try very hard to hide hersshe never allowed a
suspicion of it to escape。 She kept the easy； even tenor of her life； always
kind and gracious in her quaint way； and precisely the same to both her
lovers。 No doubt she well knew that each possessed； under all his rough
exterior； a heart of gold。
One day the genial Heckewelder lost； or pretended to lose； his patience。
〃Say； you worthy gentlemen are becoming ornamental instead of useful。 All this
changing of coats； trimming of mustaches； and eloquent