FATHER MORICE

following little incident will tell to what ex-
tremes even the best Chilcotins could go on
that score when the subject of this sketch
first undertook their conversion.

It was a fixed custom of his to have one or
two inhabitants of the village he was going
to, in the course of his missionary journeys,
come to accompany him and take thither the
objects necessary for the celebration of
divine worship. On the point of leaving one
day a certain place for another, the priest
noticed that the Indian who had come to
fetch him over to his people had no horse to
carry those impedimenta.

‘Where is your horse?” he then asked
him.

“T have none, and I need none,” answered
the Indian.

“But I saw you yesterday with one,”
insisted the missionary. ‘‘Did you sell it?”

Made uneasy by the inquisitiveness of his
interlocutor, Ezoosee, the Magpie (that was
the Indian’s name), hung down his head,
but contented himself with remarking that
he was blessed with broad, stout shoulders,
and that he would himself act as a beast of
burden. Had he been a Christian, he would

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