And so we two became missionaries, sustained by two different, and, in one particular, antagonistic missionary societies.  Of course we did not quarrel; why should we?  If I was sometimes charged with abolitionism, was not this man blacker than myself?  We often traveled together, and held protracted meetings under the same tent.  I had for a lifetime studied this plea which we make for a return to primitive and apostolic Christianity, and it was, therefore, my business to press upon the people the duty to yield a loyal obedience to the Lord Jesus Christ as our only Lawgiver and King, and thus to renounce all human leadership and the authority of all human opinions; and it became the business of Bro.  Hutchinson to win the people by his magnetic power, and fill them with his own enthusiasm, and thus induce them to act on the convictions that had been already formed in their hearts.

I take on myself to say there never have been two more diligent evangelists than were Bro.  Hutchinson and myself in the year that followed the Big Springs Convention.  Looking over the whole ground, I am able to see that in that year was laid the foundation for that abiding prosperity that has distinguished our effort down to the present time.

CHAPTER XXX.

There had come to the Big Springs Convention two brethren—­Father Gillespie and his son, William Gillespie, living at St. George, on the Kansas River, fifty miles above Topeka and about eight miles below Manhattan.  These brethren came to tell us that here were two settlements of brethren waiting to be organized into churches; and Bro.  Hutchinson and myself both visited them during the ensuing autumn.  A military road ran up the Kansas River from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Riley, passing through the village of St. George, But if I were to go to St. George by this route, I would lose thirty miles of travel, and I therefore determined to start directly west from my place of residence.  But, in doing so, I would have to cross the Pottawatomie Indian Reserve, on which for forty miles there was not the habitation of a white man.  Stopping over night with Bro.  J. W. Williams, on the eastern border of the Reserve, I started betimes to St. George, traveling to the west.  But night came on, and I had not reached the line of white settlements.  I picketed my horse on the prairie, made a pillow of my saddle, and slept until morning.  The night was warm and pleasant, and I did not suffer with the cold, and in the morning I was ready betimes to ride on to the residence of Bro.  Gillespie.  He was so glad to see me.  It was worth a journey of one hundred miles to get such a welcome.  And then there was Sister Gillespie, and a house full of young Gillespies, and they were all so glad to see me.

“Have you had your breakfast?”

“No.”

“Well, where did you lodge?”

This was a poser.  I attempted to pass the question by; but nothing would do, and I had to confess I slept under the canopy of heaven.