The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1912-07-24

venture which shows the difference be-
tween the white mans god and the
red mans god.
Inspector MeBain Of the Royal
Northwest Mounted Police did not 90
into sentimental detail when he called
in Philip Needham from barracks and
explained to him the trouble that was
brewing up at the headwaters Of the
Beaver. He introduced him to Jean
Pierrot, the slim, soft-voiced French
half-breed who had come down through
three hundred miles of wilderness
with the news, and who sat with his
big dark eyes staring hard at Philip
as the Inspector went over in five min
utes the facts which it had taken him
three-quarters Of an hour to tell
The Sarcees and the Swamp Crees
are ready to jump at one another's
throats up on the Beaver" said the
Inspector. 'The trouble began with
fight in which the Sarcees murdered
a missionary. Isn't that it, Jean?"
Non, Msieur," replied the half
breed, They did not murder him.
They killed him"
God save u.s." chuckIed the big In
sDector Here's a half savage from
the jungle who sees a difference be-
tween murder and killing which we
don't see in law, Philip According to
our code the missionary was muir
dered, and the affair has started
trouble that promises a tribal war I'm
not going to send a dozen nor half
dozen men up there to stop the fight.
I'm going to send you-alone-as
peacemaker, and to bring back as
many Of the SaTcees as you like,
COckburn, as factor on the Beaver and
you can get all of the assistance you
want from him and the Crees. The
trouble started oversa woman. She's
q young Cree. Maballa is her name,
Jean says, and you may have to bring
her back with you She's a pagan and
a renegade, for she has left the Crees
to join the SarCees."
1t was the second day after, when
they were resting from hard portage
on the lower Sturgeon, that Jean Pier
rot made answer to what the Inspector
had said.
Sometimes, Msieur," he said in his
low quiet voice, II think that there
must be more than one God-that
there must be three, your God, and
mine, and God for such as she and
her people"
Philip was lighting his pipe, but
paused until the fame of his match
burned the tips Of his fingers.
"Maballa, you mean" he said, strik-
ing another.
Eyes, Maballa, Msieur-and the
Sarcees."
'They are pagans," said Philip, puff
f1ng out smoke. so how can they have
q God?"
There was time when believed
that there was but one God, Msieur,"
replied Jean. Il am a Catholic, and I
carry an ivory cross Of the Virgin on
my breast. l thought there was but
one Colour God-until I was sent
to school at Montreal. After that
worked for the Great Company for
three years, and I saw a great deal
of yOur God-the God of what I heard
called Civilization. 1t is a different
God from the God of our big North;
down there even the God of the Virgin
is a different God. You worship Him
in your big churches on one day, and
then for the six days that follow you
lie, you cheat, you ruin one another.
you break the ten commandments. We
have no churches. Our God is about
us, in the forests, the swamps, in the
night play of the aurora; we don t
shout His name, we don't have brass
DduuS
us wear His crosses and live up to
Him in our way, which is a different
way than yours. For these reasons
know there are two Gods, my God and
yours, and I almost believe there is a
third-for her people"
Something in the manner of Jeans
saying these things stirred Philip
strangely. The haIf-breed's dark eyes
glowed with a warm fire. His thin
sensitive face seemed to culver with
an emotion which he fought to keep
back. There was the graceful poise
of an animal in his slender, steel
sinewed body as he hunChed himself
over to peer. up the river; a fascina-
ton about HMM the sun shining
in his 1et-black hair, in the soft Cree
melody of his voice, the cool daring of
his beautiful eyes.
"And what kind of a God would you
have for 8 pagan God?" queried Philip
'I don't know" said Jean, straight.
ening himself. Il have thought of il
a good deal, M'sieur, but don't know
Perhaps you can help me-" Philip
caught an eager, almost hopeful, look
in the others eyes. The Sarcees are
not only pagans, but the last of what
was once a great race. There are less
than a score of them, counting women
and children, up where we are going
M'sieur. It is what is left OF the Lone
= Arrow tribe. Twenty years ago, WheI
1 1t was much stronger, this tribe came
upon a Cree village which had beer
deserted because of the red plague
the small pox, and in one OF the tepeeE
they found a half-dead little babe, de
serted by its people. They were dead
y enemies then-the Crees and th'
Sarcees. Msieur-and yet the Sarcee'
took this babe, and saved its life-be
cause it was a babe, and helpless.
ask you, Msieur, would people with
out a God have done this-When IA,
other people, the people 1otth a Goo
abandoned the child to its death! ina
child, M'sieur, was Maballa, the Cree
pagan"
Jeans eyes glistened.
Would a goddess people have dom
that, Msieur?" he demanded.
mo, Jean
And that was not all" continues
Jean, turning his face again up tn
river, and speaking for moment a
70 ~ 49, L