Tribal high priests like Stone Eagle were the ones who truly held sway over the Indians.
They allowed Western missionaries to preach because they knew that Catholicism was far too distant from Native American life to ever gain widespread acceptance.
That paradise all Europeans yearned for would strike Indians as a bizarre place—no dense forests, no herds of bison to hunt, not even any tobacco to smoke! Who would want to go there after dying?
So long as the missionaries did not hand out money or guns, the Indians would immediately say goodbye to their God.
But the Indian Gospel Vigne had described just now was entirely different.
Stone Eagle was certain that his tribesmen would accept what it contained—
Even the Communion distributed during Mass had become corn cakes, pine-needle tea, and tobacco leaves!
Stone Eagle knew perfectly well that the Indians' scattered, dull, and hole-riddled myths were no match for a religious system like Catholicism, with its self-contained logic and twisting stories.
Once Vigne began preaching, within half a year at most, religious authority would fall into the hands of these white men.
He had to stop them!
Yet Vigne did not seem surprised by his attitude. The Crown Prince had long told him that such a situation might arise. "Please don't rush to refuse," Vigne said with a smile, not taking back the Gospel. "I can guarantee that my people and I will only be responsible for preaching. All matters within the tribe—baptisms, confessions, funerals, Masses, and the like—will be managed by you or the other priests.
"Oh, a large tribe like the Creek Alliance should have a Red Cardinal Priest to oversee everything. And you are unquestionably the most suitable candidate." Stone Eagle immediately narrowed his eyes.
The temptation was indeed immense. He knew that the