“As I grew up, our broken-hearted people turned to Christianity. It seemed to us the only thing the white man had which promised mercy and hope,” went on the chief. “I went to a mission school. I learned of Jesus--a man after our own heart! I read the Bible, which, please remember, was written by men of my race, by men of the East--by no one of your blue-eyed, conquering people who now dominate the earth. I saw the white men preaching the Bible with their lips, but their lust for money and power, their eternal buying and selling was always there. I saw that their lives flouted the Bible at every step. I became disgusted. I knew that the teachings of Jesus and our own ancient religion were essentially the same. We used to _live_ those teachings, too, long before the white man came. So I determined to return to our ancient faiths and customs. When I became a man I wandered in all desolate regions, seeking a spot where the white man was not. And I found it. Here, in this forgotten and inaccessible stronghold, which I named ‘The Arms of the Great Mystery,’ for they protect us forever. Here I brought my mother, and as many of her clan as I could find. One by one, they escaped from the reservation and joined me here. These are all that are left of the great Yellow Bear clan of the Apache.” Again came a silence. Sid felt strangely moved. He was torn between his duty to Scotty, his friend, and his new sympathies for this hunted band of a once free people in this their last refuge. For those copper arrowheads had told him that there _was_ metal here; that Red Mesa really had a mine, as was reported by the Papagoes. His friendship for Scotty prompted him to find this mine and tell him its location once he should escape. Yet, to destroy the peace of this last band of the original red children of our country, to give over their last stronghold to the lust and greed of the white miners who would surely come here--could he do it, even for Scotty’s sake?