When the Arrow Flies

The old chief was enjoying the fuss these missionaries made over him. “I’ll be there, I’ll be there.” As usual, themissionaries with the childrenmounted the horses, crossed the river, and rode through the forest to the meeting place. The bell rang. Practically the whole village was already there. But no chief! Harry made his way to the low, grass-covered mud hut where the Captain was crouching on his heels in the doorway, sucking on his pipe. “Well, Chief, here I am. Everybody’s waiting for you. Let’s go.” The hard lines in the weather-beaten old face crinkled a bit. This was some attention he was getting! “Oh, I don’t think I can go along today,” he muttered. “Oh, yes, you can. The whole show is held up waiting for you. Come on now, Chief, you promised you’d come. I’m going to stay right here and wait for you.” While the congregation sang, various members would stand up to peer out the windows to see what the developments were. Sure enough, in a little while they saw two men coming down the beaten path. The word was noisily passed around. This was unheard of. The chief had always kept aloof from this “News” of the Gospel. As the two men entered the door at the back of the hall, the whole congregation turned to look. Step by step he was ushered up the length of the hall to one of the front rows. This was prestige, indeed!

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