About a mile from the river, in a dense portion of the wood, are seated two persons, in friendly converse.  But a glance would be required to reveal that one of these was our old friend Teddy, in the most jovial and communicative of moods.  The other, painted and bedaubed until his features were scarcely recognizable, and attired in the gaudy Indian apparel, sufficiently explains his identity.  A small jug sitting between them, and which is frequently carried to the mouth of each, may disclose why, on this particular morning, they seemed on such confidential terms.  The sad truth was that the greatest drawback to Harvey Richter’s ministrations was his own servant Teddy.  The Indians could not understand why he who lived constantly with the missionary, should be so careless and reckless, and should remain “without the fold,” when the good man exhorted them in such earnest language to become Christians.  It was incomprehensible to their minds, and served to fill more than one with a suspicion that all was not what it should be.  Harvey had spent many an hour with Teddy, in earnest, prayerful expostulation, but, thus far, to no purpose.

For six months after the advent of the missionary and his wife, nothing had been seen or heard of the strange hunter, when, one cold winter’s morning, as the former was returning from the village through the path, a rifle was discharged, and the bullet whizzed within an inch or two of his eyes.  He might have believed it to be one of the Indians, had he not secured a fair look at the man as he ran away.  He said nothing of it to his wife or Teddy, although it occasioned him much trouble and anxiety of mind.

A month or two later, when Teddy was hunting in the woods, and had paused a moment for rest, a gun was discharged at him, from a thick mass of undergrowth.  Certain that the unknown hunter was at hand, he dashed in as before, determined to bring the transgressor to a personal account.  Teddy could hear him fleeing, and saw the agitation of the undergrowth, but did not catch even a glimpse of his game.

While prosecuting the search, Teddy suddenly encountered an Indian, staggering along with a jug in his hand.  The savage manifested a friendly disposition, and the two were soon seated upon the ground, discussing the fiery contents of the vessel and exchanging vows of eternal friendship.  When they separated it was with the understanding that they were to meet again in a couple of days.

Both kept the appointment, and since that unlucky day they had encountered quite frequently.  Where the Indian obtained the liquor was a mystery, but it was an attraction that never failed to draw Teddy forth into the forest.  The effect of alcoholic stimulants upon persons is as various as are their temperaments.  The American Indian almost always becomes sullen, vindictive and dangerous.  Now and then there is an exception, as was the case with the new-made friend of Teddy.  Both were affected in precisely a similar manner; both were jolly.