It was an octagonal box placed high on one side of the church on a level with the gallery, and reached by a spiral staircase.

Above it hung the highly ornate and altogether extraordinary sounding-board and canopy.

There was no sign of paint anywhere, but the yellow pine, of which seats, gallery, and pulpit were all made, had deepened with age into a rich brown, not unpleasant to the eye.
The church was full, for the Indian Lands people believed in going to church, and there was not a house for many miles around but was represented in the church that day.

There they sat, row upon row of men, brawny and brown with wind and sun, a notable company, worthy of their ancestry and worthy of their heritage.

Beside them sat their wives, brown, too, and weather-beaten, but strong, deep-bosomed, and with faces of calm content, worthy to be mothers of their husbands' sons.