“Ah, ah, the Gikhi is more than sick,” Tom replied, as he lifted his head. “An enemy came at night and shot the Gikhi.”
At these words the men sprang to their feet and a babel of voices ensued. Tom was plied with questions, so he told all he knew, and also about what had happened to Zell. Deep, burning indignation filled the hearts of all present, and they vowed vengeance upon the one who had committed the dastardly deed.
“Where is Bill now?” was asked.
“Somewhere in the mountains,” Tom explained. “The Police are after him. They will catch him before long, and take him back to The Gap.”
“The Indians will help to catch Bill,” a stalwart hunter announced. “They will track him down.”
“Let the Police do that,” Tom replied. “The Indians must go back to The Gap. They must show their love for the Gikhi. They must give up their bad ways. They have wandered too far already, but it is not too late. Will the Indians do that?”
The critical moment had at last arrived, and Tom anxiously waited for a reply. He knew how much these Indians had been stirred by what they had just heard. But would it affect their actions? And while he waited, the oldest hunter present lifted his hand for silence.
“We have just received very sad and important news,” he began. “It is a great grief to us to learn what has happened to the Gikhi. Our hearts are all the more sad because we have left him and neglected his teachings. I have been thinking much this winter while out in the mountains. I have seen our young men and women wandering into strange trails, and leading lives far worse than before the Gikhi came into
