"Have a care of the poor brute, friend!" he cried genially to
Diccon, whose looks were of the sulkiest. "Bring him gently on,
and leave him at Master Bucke's, near to the church."
"What do you do at Jamestown?" I asked, as we passed from out
the glade into the gloom of a pine wood. "I was told that you were
gone to Henricus, to help Master Thorpe convert the Indians."
"Ay," he answered, "I did go. I had a call, - I was sure I had a call. I
thought of myself as a very apostle to the Gentiles. I went from
Henricus one day's journey into the wilderness, with none but an
Indian lad for interpreter, and coming to an Indian village gathered
its inhabitants about me, and sitting down upon a hillock read and
expounded to them the Sermon on the Mount. I was much edified
by the solemnity of their demeanor and the earnestness of their
attention, and had conceived great hopes for their spiritual welfare,
when, the reading and exhortation being finished, one of their old
men arose and made me a long speech, which I could not well
understand, but took to be one of grateful welcome to myself and
my tidings of peace and good will. He then desired me to tarry
with them, and to be present at some entertainment or other, the
nature of which I could not make out. I tarried; and toward evening
they conducted me with much ceremony to an open space in the
midst of the village.
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