He was a man of peace, and tried, in his way, to preserve harmony in the tribes and encourage the young people to attend church, though he did not attend very regularly himself. At one notable Christmas gathering, which, of course, all attended, he made a speech and said: “I want to say a few words. I am glad, very glad, that the missionaries are in our land to preach to us. It makes me feel very solemn to be here to-day. I say to the young people, never to laugh and play in God’s house; it is not like out-of-doors. Do not listen to the old people, who are not wise in good things, but hear the missionary, who is our friend. Young men, it is very good for you to show an example to the children. You must always go to God’s house and the children to school. I hope you, my children, will all become very wise. We older men cannot easily change our ways, we will soon be gone, but you young men will be with the children who are growing up; to you God’s word has come. You must believe it and do God’s will; this will be best for you.” I shall never forget Tsil-ka-mut and that awful night when, after I had preached to the white people in town and had returned to my cabin home in the Indian village, about half past ten o’clock, our native local preacher, Amos Cushan, came to my door, rapped quickly, and in an excited tone of voice said, “Did you not hear the war-whoop? I think there is going to be trouble to-night.” “I heard a noise. What is it?” I replied. “I think a big fight to-night, sir!” said he. “Two chiefs with a number of their men have gone down towards Qual-la-kup’s house, and I think a big fight, sir!” These two chiefs had for some time held a grudge against Chief Qual-la-kup, because of a quarrel between the two factions, which had resulted to the advantage of Qual-la-kup’s clan. Immediately I sprang out of my house, and with my friend ran down through the woods, the shortest way to the house, and rushed in. The building was all in darkness, except for a few embers of a fire. In the dim darkness I could see two wild, savage-looking men, mercilessly assaulting the old man, Qual-la-kup, whom they had dragged out of bed. A number of others were standing around with clubs, looking wild enough and ready to knock a man down at any moment. [Illustration: “I could see two wild, savage-looking men mercilessly assaulting the old man.” _p. 74_] I rushed towards the group, and with what seemed to me supernatural strength I flung myself upon them, sending one one way and another another. With that the old man seized his advantage, and getting up, all bruised and bleeding, he hid himself behind me, spreading my overcoat tails to hide him from his pursuers. At the same time the old chief stood dancing in front of me with fiendish yells, his knife in his hand, ready to strike the old man when the opportunity came. “Don’t you strike Qual-la-kup,” I said to him. “You have injured him enough. Strike me if you must strike.”