“Tom no keel Bill,” was the quiet reply. “Tom no all sam’ wolf now. Tom Clistin.”
A bitter, sneering laugh came from the man in the bunk.
“You say you’re a Christian, eh?” he queried. “Well, ye acted jist like one when ye started to brain me. Why didn’t ye finish the job?”
“Gikhi an’ good book tell no keel. Tom velly mad, heart bad when he see Bill. Something here,” and he placed his hand to his breast, “tell Tom to keel white man. Tom almos’ do it. Den somet’ing here say ‘no keel.’ Tom feel bad. Tom kneel in snow, pray, all sam’ Gikhi.”
Instead of admiring the native’s candid confession of strength, and the influence of Christian teaching, Bill uttered a savage oath, told the Indian that religion was all bosh, and that the missionary at The Gap was a fraud and a hypocrite.
“The missionary is deceiving you,” he said. “There is no heaven an’ no hell. Religion is only fer kids, women, an’ old fools like you. It is not meant fer big strong men.”
“Gikhi good man,” Tom defended. “Gikhi come to Gap when Injuns all bad, fight, keel. Gikhi show Injuns right trail. Gikhi tell Injuns ’bout Great Spirit.”
“Yes, an’ what has all his teaching amounted to? Have not the Injuns left him? They no longer listen to his teaching, but drink, gamble, an’ strut around the streets when they go to town. The women an’ girls go with white men, live with them, an’ have babies. Why, I know of dozens of kids who will never know who their fathers are, an’ their mothers don’t know, either. Bah! what good has religion done?”
“’Ligion no do dat,” Tom again stoutly maintained,
