"This is right," continued Hetty, "and my duty will now be light.
This Great Spirit, as you call our God, has caused a book to
be written, that we call a Bible, and in this book have been set
down all his commandments, and his holy will and pleasure, and the
rules by which all men are to live, and directions how to govern
the thoughts even, and the wishes, and the will. Here, this is one
of these holy books, and you must tell the chiefs what I am about
to read to them from its sacred pages."
As Hetty concluded, she reverently unrolled a small English Bible
from its envelope of coarse calico, treating the volume with the
sort of external respect that a Romanist would be apt to show to
a religious relic. As she slowly proceeded in her task the grim
warriors watched each movement with riveted eyes, and when they saw
the little volume appear a slight expression of surprise escaped
one or two of them. But Hetty held it out towards them in triumph,
as if she expected the sight would produce a visible miracle, and
then, without betraying either surprise or mortification at the
Stoicism of the Indian, she turned eagerly to her new friend, in
order to renew the discourse.
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