In the interior of South America, with the rivers Parana and Paraguay to the east, with Argentine to the south, and Bolivia to the west, there is a vast, low country called the Gran Chaco, about as large as the state of Texas and inhabited by Indians. The country is flat and there are grass-lands, swamps, and forests of palm trees. There are many different animals with which the children of the North are not familiar but of which they may have seen pictures, among them the tapir, the marsh deer, the otter, the peccary, and the armadillo. There are some savage animals such as the jaguar, the puma, and a very large wolf with a long mane.

There are also some of the queerest animals in the world, especially the ant-eater, a bow-legged creature seven feet long from the tip of his snout to the tip of his hairy tail. There is a queer little opossum about the size of a mouse, with enormous black eyes, fan-like ears, and a long tail, which runs about in the trees like a squirrel. Most interesting of all is the lungfish which can live either in the water or in the air. In the wet season he stays in the swamps and eats and eats, and when the dry season comes and the swamps disappear, he burrows in the ground and lives without eating anything, by using up the fat he has stored.

There are many birds both large and small, from great ostriches down to tiny hummingbirds, and there are insects of all kinds, ants and crickets and mosquitoes and beetles and locusts, and there are twenty-four different kinds of frogs, each with a different croak.

For many weeks no rain falls, and the Indians have a hard time to get along; then when the rain comes they have more than they need to eat, water-birds, fish, and, by-and-by, their harvests. They do not mind having to tramp round in deep water, because wet weather brings plenty.

Among the Indians in this strange country was a young man named Poit. One morning in December Poit awoke with a frightened, anxious heart. It was not because he was too warm, though in December in Chaco the mornings are hot, nor because he had not slept comfortably on his bed on the ground nor because he was hungry; it was because he plotted a wicked deed. Today Poit planned to do the most dreadful thing anyone can do, he was going to kill his best friend, the missionary.

Though these Indians lived so uncomfortably, they did not want to change their ways, and they killed everybody who came to explore their country or to search for silver or to tell them of the love of God. Even soldiers sent to conquer them by force failed because they were so fierce and cunning.

The chief reason for their resistance and their cruelty was not wickedness, but ignorance and dreadful fear. They were afraid of spirits and afraid of witches and wizards. They were so afraid that the souls of the dead might come and annoy them that whenever anyone died they destroyed the village and went to another place to live. This wasn't very difficult because their houses were made of boughs stuck into the ground. They were especially afraid of people unlike themselves, and this was the reason they killed foreigners.

In spite of their objections, a little mission had been established among them. It was situated on the banks of the Paraguay River and its influence did not extend very far inland, but it was a beginning. The first missionary died as a result of his hard work, and there arrived one day a new missionary, a tall, slender young man, hardly more than a boy in years, whose name was Barbrooke Grubb.

Mr. Grubb was not satisfied to stay along the river where he could see only a few of the Indians, he determined to travel to the interior villages. He knew perfectly well that the undertaking was dangerous. He had heard of the explorers and the missionaries whom the Indians had murdered; he knew that a poor white man who had strayed from his companions and had taken refuge with them had been slain; he knew that if sickness broke out while he was staying in a village, he would be held responsible and be killed. He knew that if an Indian had a bad dream about him, he might kill him.

Nevertheless, he not only visited the interior of the country, but he lived with the Indians for months at a time, staying in their villages, eating their strange food, hunting and fishing with them, so that he might learn all about their ways and help them. He went unarmed and unprotected, saying that he was a messenger of peace.

He had many thrilling experiences, and some that were very funny. Of course he did not know the language well at first and he mistook the word "evil" for the word "good," and assured the people that he was a friend of the "evil spirit."

Girls of the Chaco Mission School

They are not having a picnic, but have just eaten their noonday meal, and the kettle of maize is nearly empty.

He had many amusing encounters with the witch-doctors. You would not think from the picture of a Chaco witch-doctor that they could frighten anybody, but these natives lived in deadly fear of them. Mr. Grubb proved how foolish it was to have faith in them. When a witch-doctor claimed to have a charm against bullets, Mr. Grubb said:

"All right; you stand over there and I'll shoot at you, and you won't mind a bit."

The witch-doctor wouldn't hear of this trial, and the Indians laughed at him.

Once Mr. Grubb heard that a witch-doctor was taking needles out of his patients' bodies, and he proved that the witch-doctor bought all the needles from him and that the cure was a pretense.

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.

Now Poit had a special chance to learn what was right because he was constantly in the company of Mr. Grubb who had brought about this wonderful transformation. He was very bright and Mr. Grubb depended upon him, and he seemed very faithful and Mr. Grubb trusted him. He could hunt and set traps, and steal quietly up to the ostriches and capture them, and find his way through the woods, and make bows and arrows, and do other useful things.

When Mr. Grubb had been in the Chaco for seven years he went home to England for a vacation, the first vacation he had had. Other young men had come to help him, and the mission was so well established that it would not suffer in his absence.Before he went away, he planned carefully for his return. He intended then to visit a distant tribe called the Toothli, to which Poit belonged, and he had already built a bullock road in that direction. He sent Poit to a distant settlement with seventeen head of cattle and other goods and told him that he was to settle down there and make friends with the people. He was not to sell the cattle to people who would use them for food, but only to those who would raise other cattle, because Mr. Grubb was very anxious for the natives to learn to care for stock.

Poit was to tell the Toothli that the missionaries would come and live with them if they would do certain things. They must give up making beer, and they must not hold feasts which lasted more than three days. They must work when they were called upon for the good of the whole settlement, and they must help to build the cart track and keep it clear. They must live at peace with their neighbors, and above all they must cease at once the killing of little children.

Poit had done so well, that this important work was entrusted to him and off he went with his cattle and his goods. He was very proud and at first he obeyed Mr. Grubb's directions. But alas, his pride in Mr. Grubb's confidence and his feeling of responsibility did not continue. He forgot what he had learned; he convinced himself that Mr. Grubb was gone for good; and he took possession of the property which Mr. Grubb had given him. He began to sell the cattle to people who used them for food, and he took the money for himself.

When Mr. Grubb came back, Poit was terrified. He had not believed Mr. Grubb's promise nor had he understood in the least how devoted Mr. Grubb was to his work. Now the money had to be paid over, and he had to give an account of the cattle, and he had spent a part of the money, and the cattle had been eaten. In order to cover his crime, he stole money from the missionaries. He was so clever that they did not at first suspect that he was the thief. But he could not bring the cattle back to life and soon he realized that discovery was at hand; Mr. Grubb would learn that he had not been faithful.

Mr. Grubb prepared at once to fulfil his promise to visit the Toothli people, and so little did he suspect Poit of wrong-doing that he made him the leader of the six Indians whom he took with him.

It was so hot that the party traveled by night to avoid the sun. They had a pretty comfortable track to walk on, but on both sides were thickets of trees and vines in which the twenty-four kinds of frogs croaked in twenty-four different notes, and everywhere were mosquitoes which flew out hungrily when they heard human beings approaching.

Suddenly Mr. Grubb looked round and saw that, of all his company, only Poit was in sight. He sent him back at once to find out why the others lingered. In a little while Poit reappeared and reported that one of the bearers had a thorn in his foot, and his companions were extracting it. They would all be along, he said, in a few minutes.

But the few minutes passed and the Indians did not come. Poit had wickedly told them that Mr. Grubb did not need them and that they might return toward the mission. He had dreamed that when his disobedience was found out, Mr. Grubb had killed him, and he had decided in terror that he must kill Mr. Grubb as soon as possible. He meant to go on for a few days until they had reached the Toothli country and then he would do the deed. He believed that the people of his tribe would help him to hide his crime.

Mr. Grubb noticed that Poit seemed downcast, but he did not dream what he had in his heart. The two went on alone, and still the other Indians did not overtake them. Poit suggested that perhaps they had gone home because they did not approve of the journey. Still Mr. Grubb did not suspect his evil intention, and they traveled on, arriving presently at the village which was Poit's home.

Here Mr. Grubb inquired about the cattle, but everybody was in league with Poit and helped him conceal his theft, and still Mr. Grubb was deceived. The people said that the cattle had merely strayed away, and he gave orders that they be collected before his return.

For two days he and Poit journeyed toward the distant settlements, and at last Poit decided that he could postpone the murder no longer. His heart was depressed when he woke, because in his sleep he had understood more clearly than when he was awake what a fearful thing it was to kill a man who had shown such love for those who would gladly have been his enemies.

As he moved about, his courage revived; he ceased to be downcast and became cheerful. So cold-blooded was he that he sat beside Mr. Grubb on the ground while he sharpened the long iron arrow with which he intended to kill him.