"Shall I tell you what the white man did for us? He came and told us we had no fire horses, no fire canoes, no houses. He said if we would sell him our land, he would make us like white men. Shall I tell you what he did? No, you had better see it." The door opened, and out stepped a poor, degraded looking Indian, his face besmeared with mud, his blanket in rags, no leggins, and by his side a poor, wretched looking woman in a torn calico dress. The chief raised his hands and said, "Manido Manido, is this an Indian?" The man bowed his head. "How came this?" The Indian held up a black bottle and said, "This was the white man's gift." Some of us bowed our heads in shame. Said the chief, "If this were all, I would not have told you. Long years ago a pale-faced man came to our country. He spoke kindly, and seemed to want to help us, but our hearts were hard. We hated the white man and would not listen. Every summer when the sun was so high, he came. We always looked to see his tall form coming through the forest. One year I said to my fellows, 'what does this man come for? He does not trade with us, he never asks anything of us. Perhaps the Great Spirit sent him.' We stopped to listen. Some of us have that story in our hearts. Shall I tell you what it has done for us?" The door opened and out stepped a young man--a clergyman--in a black frock coat, and by his side a woman neatly dressed in a black alpaca dress. Said the chief, "There is only one religion in the world which can lift a man out of the mire and tell him to call God 'Father,' and that is the religion of Jesus Christ."