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as when I looked through the chink upon it years ago。 The long；
low stable； with log walls and upright hitching…poles； the dim
outlines of the horses in the gloom of the background； and the
little group of rough； almost savage…looking men； with faces
wondering and reverent； lit by the misty light of the stable…
lantern。
After the reading； Sandy handed the book to Nelson； who put it in
his pocket； saying； 'That's for us； boys； ain't it？'
'Ay；' said Lachlan； 'it is often that has been read in my hearing；
but I am afraid it will not be for me whatever；' and he swayed
himself slightly as he spoke； and his voice was full of pain。
'The minister said I might come；' said old Nelson； earnestly and
hopefully。
'Ay； but you are not Lachlan Campbell； and you hef not had his
privileges。 My father was a godly elder in the Free Church of
Scotland； and never a night or morning but we took the Books。'
'Yes； but He said 〃any man；〃' persisted Nelson； putting his hand on
Lachlan's knee。 But Lachlan shook his head。
'Dat young feller；' said Baptiste； 'wha's hees nem； heh？'
'He has no name。 It is just a parable；' explained Sandy。
'He's got no nem？ He's just a parom'ble？ Das no young feller？'
asked Baptiste anxiously； 'das mean noting？'
Then Nelson took him in hand and explained to him the meaning；
while Baptiste listened even more eagerly； ejaculating softly； 'ah；
voila！ bon！ by gar！' When Nelson had finished he broke out； 'Dat
young feller； his name Baptiste； heh？ and de old Fadder he's le bon
Dieu？ Bon！ das good story for me。 How you go back？ You go to de
pries'？'
'The book doesn't say priest or any one else；' said Nelson。 'You
go back in yourself； you see？'
'Non； das so； sure nuff。 Ah！'as if a light broke in upon him
'you go in your own self。 You make one leetle prayer。 You say；
〃Le bon Fadder； oh！ I want come back； I so tire； so hongree； so
sorree〃？ He； say； 〃Come right 'long。〃 Ah！ das fuss…rate。 Nelson；
you make one leetle prayer for Sandy and me。'
And Nelson lifted up his face and said： 'Father； we're all gone far
away； we have spent all； we are poor； we are tired of it all； we
want to feel different； to be different； we want to come back。
Jesus came to save us from our sins； and he said if we came He
wouldn't cast us out； no matter how bad we were； if we only came to
Him。 Oh； Jesus Christ'and his old； iron face began to work； and
two big tears slowly came from under his eyelids'we are a poor
lot； and I'm the worst of the lot； and we are trying to find the
way。 Show us how to get back。 Amen。'
'Bon！' said Baptiste。 'Das fetch Him sure！'
Graeme pulled me away； and without a word we went into the office
and drew up to the little stove。 Graeme was greatly moved。
'Did you ever see anything like that？' he asked。 'Old Nelson！ the
hardest； savagest； toughest old sinner in the camp； on his knees
before a lot of men！'
'Before God；' I could not help saying； for the thing seemed very
real to me。 The old man evidently felt himself talking to some
one。
'Yes； I suppose you're right；' said Graeme doubtfully； 'but there's
a lot of stuff I can't swallow。'
'When you take medicine you don't swallow the bottle；' I replied；
for his trouble was not mine。
'If I were sure of the medicine； I wouldn't mind the bottle； and
yet it acts well enough；' he went on。 'I don't mind Lachlan； he's
a Highland mystic； and has visions； and Sandy's almost as bad； and
Baptiste is an impulsive little chap。 Those don't count much。 But
old man Nelson is a cool…blooded； level…headed old fellow； has seen
a lot of life； too。 And then there's Craig。 He has a better head
than I have； and is as hot…blooded； and yet he is living and
slaving away in that hole； and really enjoys it。 There must be
something in it。'
'Oh； look here； Graeme；' I burst out impatiently； 'what's the use
of your talking like that？ Of course there's something in it。 I
here's everything in it。 The trouble with me is I can't face the
music。 It calls for a life where a fellow must go in for straight；
steady work； self…denial； and that sort of thing； and I'm too
Bohemian for that； and too lazy。 But that fellow Craig makes one
feel horribly uncomfortable。'
Graeme put his head on one side； and examined me curiously。
'I believe you're right about yourself。 You always were a
luxurious beggar。 But that's not where it catches me。'
We sat and smoked and talked of other things for an hour； and then
turned in。 As I was dropping off I was roused by Graeme's voice
'Are you going to the preparatory service on Friday night？'
'Don't know；' I replied rather sleepily。
'I say； do you remember the preparatory service at home？' There
was something in his voice that set me wide awake。
'Yes。 Rather terrific； wasn't it？ But I always felt better after
it；' I replied。
'To me'he was sitting up in bed now'to me it was like a call to
arms； or rather like a call for a forlorn hope。 None but
volunteers wanted。 Do you remember the thrill in the old
governor's voice as he dared any but the right stuff to come on？'
'We'll go in on Friday night；' I said。
And so we did。 Sandy took a load of men with his team； and Graeme
and I drove in the light sleigh。
The meeting was in the church； and over a hundred men were present。
There was some singing of familiar hymns at first； and then Mr。
Craig read the same story as we had heard in the stable； that most
perfect of all parables； the Prodigal Son。 Baptiste nudged Sandy
in delight； and whispered something； but Sandy held his face so
absolutely expressionless that Graeme was moved to say
'Look at Sandy！ Did you ever see such a graven image？ Something
has hit him hard。'
The men were held fast by the story。 The voice of the reader； low；
earnest； and thrilling with the tender pathos of the tale； carried
the words to our hearts； while a glance； a gesture； a movement of
the body gave us the vision of it all as he was seeing it。
Then； in simplest of words； he told us what the story meant；
holding us the while with eyes； and voice； and gesture。 He
compelled us scorn the gay； heartless selfishness of the young fool
setting forth so jauntily from the broken home； he moved our pity
and our sympathy for the young profligate； who； broken and
deserted； had still pluck enough to determine to work his way back；
and who； in utter desperation； at last gave it up； and then he
showed us the homecomingthe ragged； heart…sick tramp； with
hesitating steps； stumbling along the dusty road； and then the rush
of the old father； his garments fluttering； and his voice heard in
broken cries。 I see and hear it all now； whenever the words are
read。
He announced the hymn； 'Just as I am；' read the first verse； and
then went on： 'There you are； men； every man of you； somewhere on
the road。 Some of you are too lazy'here Graeme nudged me'and
some of you haven't got enough yet of the far country to come back。
May there be a chance for you when you want to come！ Men； you all
want to go back home； and when you go you'll want to put on your
soft clothes； and you won't go till you can go in good style； but
where did the prodigal get his good clothes？' Quick came the
answer in Baptiste's shrill voice
'From de old fadder！'
No one was surprised； and the minister went on
'Yes！ and that's where we must get the good； clean heart； the good；
clean； brave heart； from our Father。 Don't wait； but； just as you
are； come。 Sing。'
They sang； not loud； as they would 'Stand Up；' or even 'The Sweet
By and By；' but in voices subdued； holding down the power in them。
After the singing； Craig stood a moment gazing down at the men； and
then said quietly
'Any man want to come？ You all might come。 We all must come。'
Then； sweeping his arm over the audience； and turning half round as
if to move off； he cried； in a voice that thrilled to the heart's
core
'Oh！ come on！ Let's go back！'
The effect was overpowering。 It seemed to me that the whole
company half rose to their feet。 Of the prayer that immediately
followed； I only caught the opening sentence； 'Father； we are
coming back；' for my attention was suddenly absorbed by Abe； the
stage…driver； who was sitting next me。 I could hear him swearing
approval and admiration； saying to himself
'Ain't he a clinker！ I'll be gee…whizzly…gol…dusted if he ain't a
malleable…iron…double…back…action self…adjusting corn…cracker。'
And the prayer continued to be punctuated with like admiring and
even more sulphurous expletives。 It was an incongruous medley。
The earnest； reverent prayer； and the earnest； admiring profanity；
rendered chaotic one's ideas of religious propriety。 The feelings
in both were akin； the method of expression somewhat widely
diverse。
After prayer； Craig's tone changed utterly。 In a quiet； matter…of…
fact； businesslike way he stated his plan of organisation； and
called for all who wished to join to remain after the benediction。
Some fifty men were left； among them Nelson； Sandy； Lachlan
Campbell； Baptiste； Shaw； Nixon； Geordie； and Billy Breen； who
tried to get out； but was held fast by Geordie。
Graeme was passing out； but I signed him to r