FARTHER NORTH 121

miners—having noticed that he was a clergyman,
came up to ask him whether he was not a Catholic
priest. On his affirmative answer, they said that they
were themselves Catholic and introduced him to their
father, a Protestant. When they learned that the
priest was going home, where he expected to be the
following Sunday, they inquired whether they could
not themselves go there to have one day’s rest and
attend to their religious duties.

“Certainly,” said Father Morice, ‘ provided your
father accompanies you.”’

On the following Sunday, therefore, his poor quar-
ters and church were graced by presences such as had
never been seen there before: two live white ladies.

On the following Monday, as the little party was
preparing to leave, one of the ladies begged for her
host’s photograph, a request which was gently but
firmly refused.

“You must know that a priest never gives his
portrait to a lady who is not related to him,” remarked
her interlocutor. True to her sex, the lady insisted.

“You see, Father,’’ she said, “we are going to
pass through hordes of savages who do not know us
and may be unkind to us, because they resent the
present influx of whites through their country. We
realize your prodigious influence over them. Your
name is great even among those who are not of your
faith. When they see your photo in our hands, they
will perceive that we are your friends and will treat
us well for your sake.’’

That was not a bad idea, as Father Morice ad-
mitted. Therefore the coveted photograph passed
into the hands of the party.

Four years later, that is, when the same clergyman
arrived at Wrangell on his way to the Nahanais of the