They were like tigers lusting for blood.
Jim hurried to the church. Not an Indian was visible near the log
structure. Even the savage guards had gone. He entered the open door
to be instantly struck with reverence and awe.
The Christians were singing.
Miserable and full of sickening dread though Jim was, he could not
but realize that the scene before him was one of extraordinary
beauty and pathos. The doomed Indians lifted up their voices in
song. Never had they sung so feelingly, so harmoniously.
When the song ended Zeisberger, who stood upon a platform, opened
his Bible and read:
"In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with
everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, thy
Redeemer."
In a voice low and tremulous the venerable missionary began his
sermon.
The shadow of death hovered over these Christian martyrs; it was
reflected in their somber eyes, yet not one was sullen or sad. The
children who were too young to understand, but instinctively feeling
the tragedy soon to be enacted there, cowered close to their
mothers.
Zeisberger preached a touching and impressive, though short, sermon.
At its conclusion the whole congregation rose and surrounded the
missionary. The men shook his hands, the women kissed them, the
children clung to his legs.
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