Some of the Indians were very smart. There was one called Pinse-apawa, who came into Mr. Grubb's tent one day just as Mr. Grubb was taking some medicine. This medicine had an alcoholic smell though it had a dreadfully bitter taste, so bitter that you could hardly swallow it. Pinse-apawa smelled the odor of liquor. "Ah!" he said. "You won't let us drink liquor, but when you are here alone you take it yourself!" "Have some," invited Mr. Grubb. Poor Pinse-apawa took a big swallow and after that he knew the difference between liquor and medicine. * * * * * Now Poit, who opened his eyes on a warm December morning intending to murder Mr. Grubb was not a witch-doctor; he was a clever, intelligent Indian, and when he was good, he was a great help. We do not like to call him a bad Indian, even though he was to do such a dreadful deed. Though he had had every chance under Mr. Grubb's teaching to learn to be good, he had not met him until he was a grown man, and then it is very hard to change your heart. By this time Mr. Grubb had been in the Chaco for seven years, and the work he had done was truly wonderful. At the mission station there was a settlement where the people lived in permanent houses instead of wandering from place to place. Strangers could go about unarmed and in safety. The Indians had been taught to work, not only at odd moments, but steadily. They had been taught to take care of sheep and cattle and to raise vegetables. They had learned to distrust the witch-doctors and to take precautions against contagion. They had learned to respect the law and to live at peace with their neighbors. They had built several hundred miles of cart tracks. They had axes, knives, hoes, scissors, and many other possessions which Mr. Grubb had had shipped from England to help them to live more comfortably and to earn their living more easily. Some could even read and write. They had learned still more important lessons. Mr. Grubb had taught them that it was unspeakably wicked to kill the poor little babies as they had been doing, and equally wrong to bury alive sick people whom they thought would soon die. He had taught them also that it was wrong to drink liquor because it made them frantic and wicked. Though they did not always do what was right, hundreds of them knew what was right, and had begun to try to be good. They knew also—and this was most important of all—about God and Jesus, and, though none had openly become Christians, the seed of Christianity had been planted in their hearts.