you as you were to kill the Sioux?" He sprang to his feet and said, "I
can and I will." I have known many brave, fearless servants of Christ,
but I never knew one braver than this chief who is now in Paradise.

I wish I could take you to a Christian Indian's home. You might see
nothing but a plain log house, and you might wonder why the tears came
in my eyes as he said to me, "That is my daughter's room; the boys sleep
up stairs; this is for me and my wife." They are tears of joy, for I
knew them when they herded as swine, in a wigwam. It is the religion of
Christ which has brought respect for womanhood.

I want to take you far away in the forest to Red Lake. The head chief,
Mah-dwah-go-no-wind, was a remarkable man as a wild man, true, honest
and brave. He came and asked me to give him a missionary. I loved him
and we were warm friends. I said "I cannot give you a missionary for the
American Missionary Association has a missionary now in that field." The
chief came again and again to see me. He said: "I want your religion. If
you refuse I will ask the Roman Catholics." I wrote Rev. Dr. Strieby,
and told him the situation. I said "The field is in my diocese. I have
the right to send a missionary there, but ask your consent because I
will never be a party to present Christian divisions to heathen men."
After due deliberation, the Association consented. I am happy to tell
you that that old chief and nearly all the adults of his band are
faithful communicants. At my last visit, the chief came to me and said,
"My Father, since you were here, my old wife with whom I have lived
fifty years, has gone to sleep in the grave. I shall go to lie by her
side. I have heard that white Christians bless the place where they
sleep as belonging to God. Will you bless the place where my wife sleeps
and ask God to care for it until he calls his children out of the
grave?" We formed a procession of the Indians, the clergy and the old