He could not grasp the simple but sublime truths which lie at the foundation of Christianity.
But he longed to do so.

At midnight he lay trying to sleep in the silent woods, looking up at the stars and meditating on the wonderful Being who had done all this.

In the simplicity of his nature, he talked to that awful and dimly comprehended Father of all races and peoples, and asked Him to tell Omas what he should say, and do, and think.
Unknown to him, To-wika his wife had listened to the teachings of the missionaries, and she had traversed further along the path of light than he.
When, therefore, he told her of his longings, his questionings, his distress, his wretchedness, and his groping in the dark, she was able to say a great deal that helped to clear away the fogs and mists from his clouded brain.
But Omas was in the very depth of darkness, and almost despair, when the fearful episode of Wyoming came.

It was in desperation he went into that conflict, as a man will sometimes do to escape, as it were, from himself.
He fought like a demon, but he could not hush the still small voice within his breast.

He felt that he must have relief, or he would do that which a wild Indian never does--make away with himself.
It was on his tongue more than once, while threading his way through the wilderness with his friends, to appeal to Mrs.Ripley; but with a natural shrinking he held back, fearing that with his broken words he could not make her understand his misery.
The only recourse was to go to To-wika, his wife.