By Canoe and Dog-Train

By Egerton Ryerson Young________________________________________________________________________

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BY CANOE AND DOG-TRAIN

BY EGERTON RYERSON YOUNG

CHAPTER ONE. 

THE SUMMONS TO THE INDIAN WORK--THE DECISION--THE VALEDICTORY SERVICES--DR. PUNSHON--THE DEPARTURE--LEAVING HAMILTON--ST. CATHERINE'S--MILWAUKEECUSTOM-HOUSE DELAYS--MISSISSIPPI--ST. PAUL'S--ON THE PRAIRIES--FRONTIERSETTLERS--NARROW ESCAPE FROM SHOOTING ONE OF OUR SCHOOL TEACHERS--SIOUXINDIANS AND THEIR WARS--SAVED BY OUR FLAG--VARIED EXPERIENCES. 

Several letters were handed into my study, where I sat at work among mybooks. 

I was then pastor of a Church in the city of Hamilton. Showers ofblessing had been descending upon us, and over a hundred and forty newmembers had but recently been received into the Church. I had availedmyself of the Christmas holidays by getting married, and now was backagain with my beloved, when these letters were handed in. With only oneof them have we at present anything to do. As near as I can remember, it read as follows:--

 "Mission Rooms, Toronto, 1868. 

 "Reverend Egerton R. Young. 

 "Dear Brother, --At a large and influential meeting of the Missionary Committee, held yesterday, it was unanimously decided to ask you to go as a missionary to the Indian tribes at Norway House, and in the North-West Territories north of Lake Winnipeg. An early answer signifying your acceptance of this will much oblige, "Yours affectionately, "E. Wood, "L. Taylor. "

I read the letter, and then handed it, without comment, across the tableto Mrs Young--the bride of but a few days--for her perusal. She readit over carefully, and then, after a quiet moment, as was quite natural, asked, "What does this mean?"

"I can hardly tell, " I replied; "but it is evident that it means a gooddeal. "

"Have you volunteered to go as a missionary to that far-off land?" sheasked. 

"Why, no. Much as I love, and deeply interested as I have ever been inthe missionary work of our Church, I have not made the first move inthis direction. Years ago I used to think I would love to go to aforeign field, but lately, as the Lord has been so blessing us here inthe home work, and has given us such a glorious revival, I should havethought it like running away from duty to have volunteered for any otherfield. "

"Well, here is this letter; what are you going to do about it?"

"That is just what I would like to know, " was my answer. 

"There is one thing we can do, " she said quietly; and we bowed ourselvesin prayer, and "spread the letter before the Lord, " and asked for wisdomto guide us aright in this important matter which had so suddenly comeupon us, and which, if carried out, would completely change all theplans and purposes which we, the young married couple, in all thejoyousness of our honeymoon, had just been marking out. We earnestlyprayed for Divine light and guidance to be so clearly revealed that wecould not be mistaken as to our duty. 

As we arose from our knees, I quietly said to Mrs Young, "Have you anyimpression on your mind as to our duty in this matter?"

Her eyes were suffused in tears, but the voice, though low, was firm, asshe replied, "The call has come very unexpectedly, but I think it isfrom God, and we will go. "

My Church and its kind officials strongly opposed my leaving them, especially at such a time as this, when, they said, so many newconverts, through my instrumentality, had been brought into the Church. 

I consulted my beloved ministerial brethren in the city, and with butone exception the reply was, "Remain at your present station, where Godhas so abundantly blessed your labours. " The answer of the one brotherwho did not join in with the others has never been forgotten. As it maydo good, I will put it on record. When I showed him the letter, andasked what I should do in reference to it, he, much to my surprise, became deeply agitated, and wept like a child. When he could controlhis emotions, he said, "For my answer let me give you a little of myhistory. 

"Years ago, I was very happily situated in the ministry in the Old Land. I loved my work, my home, and my wife passionately. I had theconfidence and esteem of my people, and thought I was as happy as Icould be this side [of] heaven. One day there came a letter from theWesleyan Mission Rooms in London, asking if I would go out as amissionary to the West Indies. Without consideration, and withoutmaking it a matter of prayer, I at once sent back a positive refusal. 

"From that day, " he continued, "everything went wrong with me. Heaven'ssmile seemed to have left me. I lost my grip upon my people. Myinfluence for good over them left me, I could not tell how. My oncehappy home was blasted, and in all my trouble I got no sympathy from myChurch or in the community. I had to resign my position, and leave theplace. I fell into darkness, and lost my hold upon God. A few yearsago I came out to this country. God has restored me to the light of Hiscountenance. The Church has been very sympathetic and indulgent. Foryears I have been permitted to labour in her fold, and for this Irejoice. But, " he added, with emphasis, "I long ago came to the resolvethat if ever the Church asked me to go to the West Indies, or to anyother Mission field, I would be careful about sending back an abruptrefusal. "

I pondered over his words and his experience, and talked about them withmy good wife, and we decided to go. Our loving friends were startled atour resolve, but soon gave us their benedictions, united to tangibleevidences of their regard. A blessed peace filled our souls, and welonged to be away and at work in the new field which had so suddenlyopened before us. 

 "Yes, we will go. We may no longer doubt To give up friends, and home, and every tie, That binds our heart to thee, our country. Henceforth, then, It matters not if storms or sunshine be Our earthly lot, bitter or sweet our cup. We only pray, God fit us for the work, God make us holy, and our spirits nerve For the stern hour of strife. Let us but know There is an Arm unseen that holds us up, An Eye that kindly watches all our path, Till we our weary pilgrimage have done. Let us but know we have a Friend that waits To welcome us to glory, and we joy To tread that drear and northern wilderness. "

The grand valedictory services were held in the old Richmond StreetChurch, Toronto, Thursday, May 7th, 1868. The church was crowded, andthe enthusiasm was very great. The honoured President of the Conferencefor that year, the Reverend James Elliott, who presided, was the one whohad ordained me a few months before. Many were the speakers. Amongthem was the Reverend George McDougall, who already had had a variedexperience of missionary life. He had something to talk about, to whichit was worth listening. The Reverend George Young, also, had much thatwas interesting to say, as he was there bidding farewell to his ownChurch and to the people, of whom he had long been the beloved pastor. Dr Punshon, who had just arrived from England, was present, and gaveone of his inimitable magnetic addresses. The memory of his loving, cheering words abode with us for many a day. 

It was also a great joy to us that my honoured father, the ReverendWilliam Young, was with us on the platform at this impressive farewellservice. For many years he had been one of that heroic band of pioneerministers in Canada who had laid so grandly and well the foundations ofthe Church which, with others, had contributed so much to the spiritualdevelopment of the country. His benedictions and blessings were amongthe prized favours in these eventful hours in our new career. 

My father had been intimately acquainted with William Case and JamesEvans, and at times had been partially associated with them in Indianevangelisation. He had faith in the power of the Gospel to save evenIndians, and now rejoiced that he had a son and daughter who hadconsecrated themselves to this work. 

As a long journey of many hundreds of miles would have to be made by usafter getting beyond cars or steamboats in the Western States, it wasdecided that we should take our own horses and canvas-covered waggonsfrom Ontario with us. We arranged to make Hamilton our starting-point;and on Monday, the 11th of May, 1868, our little company filed out ofthat city towards St. Catherine's, where we were to take passage in a"propeller" for Milwaukee. Thus our adventurous journey was begun. 

The following was our party. First, the Reverend George McDougall, whofor years had been successfully doing the work of a faithful missionaryamong the Indians in the distant Saskatchewan country, a thousand milesnorth-west of the Red River country. He had come down to Canada forreinforcements for the work, and had not failed in his efforts to securethem. As he was an old, experienced Western traveller, he was the guideof the party. 

Next was the Reverend George Young, with his wife and son. Dr Younghad consented to go and begin the work in the Red River Settlement, aplace where Methodism had never before had a footing. Grandly and welldid he succeed in his efforts. 

Next came the genial Reverend Peter Campbell, who, with his brave wifeand two little girls, relinquished a pleasant Circuit to go to thedistant Mission field among the Indians of the North-West prairies. Wehad also with us two Messrs. Snyders, brothers of Mrs Campbell, who hadconsecrated themselves to the work as teachers among the distant Indiantribes. Several other young men were in our party, and in Dacota wewere joined by "Joe" and "Job, " a couple of young Indians. 

These, with the writer and his wife, constituted our party of fifteen ortwenty. At St. Catherine's on the Welland Canal we shipped our outfit, and took passage on board the steamer _Empire_ for Milwaukee. 

The vessel was very much crowded, and there was a good deal ofdiscomfort. In passing through Lake Michigan we encountered roughweather, and, as a natural result, sea-sickness assailed the greatmajority of our party. 

We reached Milwaukee on Sabbath, the 17th of May. We found it then alively, wide-awake Americo-German city. There did not seem to be, onthe part of the multitudes whom we met, much respect for the Sabbath. Business was in full blast in many of the streets, and there were butfew evidences that it was the day of rest. Doubtless there were manywho had not defiled their garments and had not profaned the day, but weweary travellers had not then time to find them out. 

Although we had taken the precaution to bond everything through to theNorth-West, and had the American Consular certificate to the effect thatevery regulation had been complied with, we were subjected to manyvexatious delays and expenses by the Custom House officials. So delayedwere we that we had to telegraph to head-quarters at Washington aboutthe matter and soon there came the orders to the over-officiousofficials to at once allow us to proceed. Two valuable days, however, had been lost by their obstructiveness. Why cannot Canada and theUnited States, lying side by side, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, devise some mutually advantageous scheme of reciprocity, by which thevexatious delays and annoyances and expense of these Custom Houses canbe done away with?

We left Milwaukee for La Crosse on the Mississippi on Tuesday evening ateight o'clock. At La Crosse we embarked on the steamer _Milwaukee_ forSt. Paul's. These large flat-bottomed steamers are quite an institutionon these western rivers. Drawing but a few inches of water, they glideover sandbars where the water is very shallow, and, swinging in againstthe shore, land and receive passengers and freight where wharves areunknown, or where, if they existed, they would be liable to be sweptaway in the great spring freshets. 

The scenery in many places along the upper Mississippi is very fine. High bold bluffs rise up in wondrous variety and picturesque beauty. Insome places they are composed of naked rock. Others are covered totheir very summit with the richest green. Here, a few years ago, thewar-whoop of the Indians sounded, and the buffalo swarmed around theseButtes, and quenched their thirst in these waters. Now the shrillwhistle of the steamer disturbs the solitudes, and echoes and re-echoeswith wondrous distinctness among the high bluffs and fertile vales. 

 "Westward the Star of Empire takes its way. "

We arrived at St. Paul's on Thursday forenoon and found it to be astirring city, beautifully situated on the eastern side of theMississippi. We had several hours of good hard work in getting ourcaravan in order, purchasing supplies, and making all final arrangementsfor the long journey that was before us. For beyond this the iron horsehad not yet penetrated, and the great surging waves of immigration, which soon after rolled over into those fertile territories, had as yetbeen only little ripples. 

Our splendid horses, which had been cooped up in the holds of vessels, or cramped up in uncomfortable freight cars, were now to have anopportunity for exercising their limbs, and showing of what mettle theywere made. At 4 PM we filed out of the city. The recollection of thatfirst ride on the prairie will live on as long as memory holds herthrone. The day was one of those gloriously perfect ones that are butrarely given us, as if to show what earth must have been before theFall. The sky, the air, the landscape--everything seemed in suchharmony and so perfect, that involuntarily I exclaimed, "If God'sfootstool is so glorious, what will the throne be?"

We journeyed a few miles, then encamped for the night. We were all inthe best of spirits, and seemed to rejoice that we were getting awayfrom civilisation, and more and more out into the wilderness, althoughfor days we were in the vicinity of frontier villages and settlements, which, however, as we journeyed on, were rapidly diminishing in number. 

After several days' travelling we encamped on the western side of theMississippi, near where the thriving town of Clear Water now stands. Assome of our carts and travelling equipage had begun to show signs ofweakness, it was thought prudent to give everything a thoroughoverhauling ere we pushed out from this point, as beyond this there wasno place where assistance could be obtained. We had in our encampmenteight tents, fourteen horses, and from fifteen to twenty persons, counting big and little, whites and Indians. Whenever we camped ourhorses were turned loose in the luxuriant prairie grass, the onlyprecaution taken being to "hobble" them, as the work of tying theirforefeet together is called. It seemed a little cruel at first, andsome of our spirited horses resented it, and struggled a good dealagainst it as an infringement on their liberties. But they soon becameused to it, and it served the good purpose we had in view--namely, thatof keeping them from straying far away from the camp during the night. 

At one place, where we were obliged to stop for a few days to repairbroken axle-trees, I passed through an adventure that will not soon beforgotten. Some friendly settlers came to our camp, and gave us theunpleasant information, that a number of notorious horse-thieves wereprowling around, and it would be advisable for us to keep a sharp look-out on our splendid Canadian horses. As there was an isolated barnabout half a mile or so from the camp, that had been put up by a settlerwho would not require it until harvest, we obtained permission to use itas a place in which to keep our horses during the nights while we weredetained in the settlement. Two of our party were detailed each nightto act as a guard. One evening, as Dr Young's son George and I, whohad been selected for this duty, were about starting from the camp forour post, I overheard our old veteran guide, the Reverend GeorgeMcDougall, say, in a bantering sort of way, "Pretty guards they are!Why, some of my Indian boys could go and steal every horse from themwithout the slightest trouble. "

Stung to the quick by the remark, I replied, "Mr McDougall, I think Ihave the best horse in the company; but if you or any of your Indianscan steal him out of that barn between sundown and sunrise, you may keephim!"

We tethered the horses in a line, and fastened securely all the doorsbut the large front one. We arranged our seats where we were partiallyconcealed, but where we could see our horses, and could command everydoor with our rifles. In quiet tones we chatted about various things, until about one o'clock, when all became hushed and still. The noveltyof the situation impressed me, and, sitting there in the darkness, Icould not help contrasting my present position with the one I hadoccupied a few weeks before. Then the pastor of a city Church, in themidst of a blessed revival, surrounded by all the comforts ofcivilisation; now out here in Minnesota, in this barn, sitting on abundle of prairie grass through the long hours of night with a breech-loading rifle in hand, guarding a number of horses from a band of horse-thieves. 

"Hush! what is that?"

A hand is surely on the door feeling for the wooden latch. We mentallysay, "You have made too much noise, Mr Thief, for your purpose, and youare discovered. " Soon the door opened a little. As it was a beautifulstarlight night, the form of a tall man was plainly visible in theopening. Covering him with my rifle, and about to fire, quick as aflash came the thought, "Better be sure that that man is a horse-thief, or is intent on evil, ere you fire; for it is at any time a seriousthing to send a soul so suddenly into eternity. " So keeping my rifle tomy shoulder, I shouted out, "Who's there?"

"Why, it's only your friend Matthew, " said our tall friend, as he camestumbling along in the darkness; "queer if you don't know me by thistime. "

As the thought came to me of how near I had been to sending him into theother world, a strange feeling of faintness came over me, and, flingingmy rifle from me, I sank back trembling like a leaf. 

Meanwhile the good-natured fellow, little knowing the risk he had run, and not seeing the effect his thoughtless action had produced on me, talked on, saying that as it was so hot and close over at the tents thathe could not sleep there, he thought he would come over and stop with usin the barn. 

There was considerable excitement, and some strong words were uttered atthe camp next morning at his breach of orders and narrow escape, sinceinstructions had been given to all that none should, under anyconsideration, go near the barn while it was being guarded. 

At another place in Minnesota we came across a party who were restoringtheir homes, and "building up their waste places" desolated by theterrible Sioux wars of but a short time before. As they had nearly allof them suffered by that fearful struggle, they were very bitter intheir feelings towards the Indians, completely ignoring the fact thatthe whites were to blame for that last sanguinary outbreak, in whichnine hundred lives were lost, and a section of country larger than someof the New England States was laid desolate. It is now an undisputedfact that the greed and dishonesty of the Indian agents of the UnitedStates caused that terrible war of 1863. The principal agent received600, 000 dollars in gold from the Government, which belonged to theIndians, and was to be paid to Little Crow and the other chiefs andmembers of the tribe. The agent took advantage of the premium on gold, which in those days was very high, and exchanged the gold forgreenbacks, and with these paid the Indians, putting the enormousdifference in his own pocket. When the payments began, Little Crow, whoknew what he had a right to according to the Treaty, said, "Gold dollarsworth more than paper dollars. You pay us gold. " The agent refused, and the war followed. This is only one instance out of scores, in whichthe greed and selfishness of a few have plunged the country into war, causing the loss of hundreds of lives and millions of treasure. 

In addition to this, these same unprincipled agents, with their hiredaccomplices and subsidised press, in order to hide the enormity of theircrimes, and to divert attention from themselves and their crookedness, systematically and incessantly misrepresent and vilify the Indiancharacter. 

"Stay and be our minister, " said some of these settlers to me in oneplace. "We'll secure for you a good location, and will help you get insome crops, and will do the best we can to make you comfortable. "

When they saw we were all proof against their appeals, they changedtheir tactics, and one exclaimed, "You'll never get through the Indiancountry north with those fine horses and all that fine truck you have. "

"O yes, we will, " said Mr McDougall; "we have a little flag that willcarry us in safety through any Indian tribe in America. "

They doubted the assertion very much, but we found it to be literallytrue, at all events as regarded the Sioux; for when, a few days later, we met them, our Union Jack fluttering from the whip-stalk caused themto fling their guns in the grass, and come crowding round us withextended hands, saying, through those who understood their language, that they were glad to see and shake hands with the subjects of the"Great Mother" across the waters. 

When we, in our journey north, reached their country, and saw themcoming down upon us, at Mr McDougall's orders we stowed away our riflesand revolvers inside of our waggons, and met them as friends, unarmedand fearless. They smoked the pipe of peace with those of our party whocould use the weed, and others drank tea with the rest of us. As wewere in profound ignorance of their language, and they of ours, some ofus had not much conversation with them beyond what could be carried onby a few signs. But, through Mr McDougall and our own Indians, theyassured us of their friendship. 

We pitched our tents, hobbled our horses and turned them loose, asusual. We cooked our evening meals, said our prayers, unrolled ourcamp-beds, and lay down to rest without earthly sentinels or guardsaround us, although the camp-fires of these so-called "treacherous andbloodthirsty" Sioux could be seen in the distance, and we knew theirsharp eyes were upon us. Yet we lay down and slept in peace, and arosein safety. Nothing was disturbed or stolen. 

So much for a clean record of honourable dealing with a people who, while quick to resent when provoked, are mindful of kindnesses received, and are as faithful to their promises and treaty obligations, as are anyother of the races of the world. 

We were thirty days in making the trip from St. Paul's to the Red Riversettlement. We had to ford a large number of bridgeless streams. Someof them took us three or four days to get our whole party across. Wenot unfrequently had some of our waggons stuck in the quicksands, or sosunk in the quagmires that the combined strength of all the men of ourparty was required to get them out. Often the ladies of our company, with shoes and stockings off, would be seen bravely wading across widestreams, where now in luxurious comfort, in parlour cars, travellers arewhirled along at the rate of forty miles an hour. They were a cheerful, brave band of pioneers. 

The weather, on the whole, was pleasant, but we had some drenching rain-storms; and then the spirits of some of the party went down, and theywondered whatever possessed them to leave their happy homes for suchexile and wretchedness as this. There was one fearful, tornado-likestorm that assailed us when we were encamped for the night on thewestern bank of Red River. Tents were instantly blown down. Heavywaggons were driven before it, and for a time confusion reigned supreme. Fortunately nobody was hurt, and most of the things blown away wererecovered the next day. 

Our Sabbaths were days of quiet rest and delightful communion with God. Together we worshipped Him Who dwelleth not in temples made with hands. Many were the precious communions we had with Him Who had been ourComforter and our Refuge under other circumstances, and Who, having nowcalled us to this new work and novel life, was sweetly fulfilling in usthe blessed promise: "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of theworld. "

CHAPTER TWO. 

STILL ON THE ROUTE--FORT GARRY--BREAKING UP OF OUR PARTY OFMISSIONARIES--LOWER FORT--HOSPITABLE HUDSON'S BAY OFFICIALS--PECULIARITIES--FOURTEEN DAYS IN A LITTLE OPEN BOAT ON STORMY LAKEWINNIPEG--STRANGE EXPERIENCES--HAPPY CHRISTIAN INDIAN BOATMEN--"INPERILS BY WATERS. "

At Fort Garry in the Red River settlement, now the flourishing city ofWinnipeg, our party, which had so long travelled together, broke up withmutual regrets. The Reverend George Young and his family remained tocommence the first Methodist Mission in that place. Many were hisdiscouragements and difficulties, but glorious have been his successes. More to him than to any other man is due the prominent position whichthe Methodist Church now occupies in the North-West. His station wasone calling for rare tact and ability. The Riel Rebellion, and thedisaffection of the Half-breed population, made his position at timesone of danger and insecurity; but he proved himself to be equal to everyemergency. In addition to the many duties devolving upon him in theestablishment of the Church amidst so many discordant elements, a greatmany extra cares were imposed upon him by the isolated missionaries inthe interior, who looked to him for the purchasing and sending out tothem, as best he could, of their much-needed supplies. His kindlylaborious efforts for their comfort can never be forgotten. 

The Revs. George McDougall and Peter Campbell, with the teachers andother members of the party, pushed on, with their horses, waggons, andcarts, for the still farther North-West, the great North SaskatchewanRiver, twelve hundred miles farther into the interior. 

During the first part of their journey over the fertile but thenunbroken prairies, the only inhabitants they met were the roving Indiansand Half-breeds, whose rude wigwams and uncouth noisy carts have longsince disappeared, and have been replaced by the comfortable habitationsof energetic settlers, and the swiftly moving trains of the railroads. 

From Fort Garry Mrs Young and myself performed the rest of our journeyby water, going down the Red River to its mouth, and then along thewhole length of the stormy Lake Winnipeg, and beyond, to our own far-offnorthern home. The trip was made in what is called "the Hudson's Bayinland boat. " These boats are constructed like large skiffs, only eachend is sharp. They have neither deck nor cabin. They are furnishedwith a mast and a large square sail, both of which are stowed away whenthe wind is not favourable for sailing. They are manned by six or eightoarsmen, and are supposed to carry about four tons of merchandise. Theycan stand a rough sea, and weather very severe gales, as we found outduring our years of adventurous trips in them. When there is nofavourable wind for sailing, the stalwart boatmen push out their heavyoars, and, bending their sturdy backs to the work, and keeping the mostperfect time, are often able to make their sixty miles a day. But thistoiling at the oar is slavish work, and the favouring gale, even if itdevelops into a fierce storm, is always preferable to a dead calm. These northern Indians make capital sailors, and in the sudden squallsand fierce gales to which these great lakes are subject, they displaymuch courage and judgment. 

Our place in the boat was in the hinder part near the steersman, a pureIndian, whose name was Thomas Mamanowatum, familiarly known as "BigTom, " on account of his almost gigantic size. He was one of Nature'snoblemen, a grand, true man, and of him we shall have more to sayhereafter. Honoured indeed was the missionary who led such a man fromPaganism to Christianity. 

We journeyed on pleasantly for twenty miles down the Red River to LowerFort Garry, where we found that we should have to wait for several daysere the outfit for the boats would be ready. We were, however, verycourteously entertained by the Hudson's Bay officials, who showed us nolittle kindness. 

This Lower Fort Garry, or "the Stone Fort, " as it is called in thecountry, is an extensive affair, having a massive stone wall all aroundit, with the Company's buildings in the centre. It was built in stormytimes, when rival trading parties existed, and hostile bands were everon the war path. It is capable of resisting almost any force that couldbe brought against it, unaided by artillery. We were a little amusedand very much pleased with the old-time and almost courtly etiquettewhich abounded at this and the other establishments of this flourishingCompany. In those days the law of precedents was in full force. Whenthe bell rang, no clerk of fourteen years' standing would think ofentering before one who had been fifteen years in the service, or ofsitting above him at the table. Such a thing would have brought downupon him the severe reproof of the senior officer in charge. Irksomeand even frivolous as some of these laws seemed, doubtless they served agood purpose, and prevented many misunderstandings which might haveoccurred. 

Another singular custom, which we did not like, was the fact that therewere two dining-rooms in these establishments, one for the ladies, andthe other for the gentlemen of the service. It appeared to us very oddto see the gentlemen with the greatest politeness escort the ladies intothe hall which ran between the two dining-rooms, and then gravely turnto the left, while the ladies all filed off into the room on the right. As the arrangement was so contrary to all our ideas and education on thesubject, we presumed to question it; but the only satisfaction we couldget in reference to it was, that it was one of their old customs, andhad worked well. One old crusty bachelor official said, "We do not wantthe women around us when we are discussing our business matters, whichwe wish to keep to ourselves. If they were present, all our schemes andplans would soon be known to all, and our trade might be much injured. "

Throughout this vast country, until very lately, the adventuroustraveller, whose courage or curiosity was sufficient to enable him tobrave the hardships or run the risks of exploring these enormousterritories, was entirely dependent upon the goodwill and hospitality ofthe officials of the Hudson's Bay Company. They were uniformly treatedwith courtesy and hospitably entertained. 

Very isolated are some of these inland posts, and quite expatriated arethe inmates for years at a time. These lonely establishments are to befound scattered all over the upper half of this great AmericanContinent. They have each a population of from five to sixty humanbeings. These are, if possible, placed in favourable localities forfish or game, but often from one to five hundred miles apart. The onlyobject of their erection and occupancy is to exchange the products ofcivilisation for the rich and valuable furs which are to be obtainedhere as nowhere else in the world. In many instances the inmates hearfrom the outside world but twice, and at times but once, in twelvemonths. Then the arrival of the packet is the great event of the year. 

We spent a very pleasant Sabbath at Lower Fort Garry, and I preached inthe largest dining-room to a very attentive congregation, composed ofthe officials and servants of the Company, with several visitors, andalso some Half-breeds and Indians who happened to be at the fort at thattime. 

The next day two boats were ready, and we embarked on our adventurousjourney for our far-off, isolated home beyond the northern end of LakeWinnipeg. The trip down Red River was very pleasant. We passed throughthe flourishing Indian Settlement, where the Church of England has asuccessful Mission among the Indians. We admired their substantialchurch and comfortable homes, and saw in them, and in the farms, tangible evidence of the power of Christian Missions to elevate andbless those who come under their ennobling influences. The cosyresidence of the Venerable Archdeacon Cowley was pointed out to us, beautifully embowered among the trees. He was a man beloved of all; alife-long friend of the Indians, and one who was as an angel of mercy tous in after years when our Nellie died, while Mrs Young was making anadventurous journey in an open boat on the stormy, treacherous LakeWinnipeg. 

This sad event occurred when, after five years' residence among theCrees at Norway House, we had instructions from our missionaryauthorities to go and open up a new Indian Mission among the then paganSalteaux. I had orders to remain at Norway House until my successorarrived; and as but one opportunity was offered for Mrs Young and thechildren to travel in those days of limited opportunities, they startedon several weeks ahead in an open skiff manned by a few Indians, leavingme to follow in a birch canoe. So terrible was the heat that hot July, in that open boat with no deck or awning, that the beautiful childsickened and died of brain-fever. Mrs Young found herself with herdying child on the banks of Red River, all alone among her sorrowingIndian boatmen, "a stranger in a strange land;" no home to which to go;no friends to sympathise with her. Fortunately for her, the Hudson'sBay officials at Lower Fort Garry were made aware of her sorrows, andreceived her into one of their homes ere the child died. The ReverendMr Cowley also came and prayed for her, and sympathised with her on theloss of her beautiful child. 

As I was far away when Nellie died, Mrs Young knew not what to do withour precious dead. A temporary grave was made, and in it the body waslaid until I could be communicated with, and arrangements could be madefor its permanent interment. I wrote at once by an Indian to theVenerable Archdeacon Cowley, asking permission to bury our dead in hisgraveyard; and there came promptly back, by the canoe, a very brotherly, sympathetic letter, ending up with, "Our graveyards are open before you;`in the choicest of our sepulchres bury thy dead. '" A few weeks after, when I had handed over my Mission to Brother Ruttan, I hurried on to thesettlement, and with a few sympathising friends, mostly Indians, we tookup the little body from its temporary resting-place, and buried it inthe St. Peter's Church graveyard, the dear archdeacon himself beingpresent, and reading the beautiful Burial Service of his Church. Thatland to us has been doubly precious since it has become the repositoryof our darling child. 

As we floated down the current, or were propelled along by the oars ofour Indian boatmen, on that first journey, little did we imagine thatthis sad episode in our lives would happen in that very spot a few yearsafter. When we were near the end of the Indian Settlement, as it iscalled, we saw several Indians on the bank, holding on to a couple ofoxen. Our boats were immediately turned in to the shore near them, and, to our great astonishment, we found out that each boat was to have anaddition to its passenger list in the shape of one of these big fellows. The getting of these animals shipped was no easy matter, as there wasno wharf or gangway; but after a good deal of pulling and pushing, andlifting up of one leg, and then another, the patient brutes wereembarked on the frail crafts, to be our companions during the voyage toNorway House. The position assigned to the one in our boat was just infront of us, "broadside on, " as the sailors would say; his head oftenhanging over one side of the boat, and his tail over the other side. The only partition there was between him and us was a single board a fewinches wide. Such close proximity to this animal for fourteen days wasnot very agreeable; but as it could not be helped it had to be endured. 

At times, during the first few days, the ox made some desperate effortsto break loose; and it seemed as though he would either smash our boatto pieces or upset it; but, finding his efforts unsuccessful, hegracefully accepted the situation, and behaved himself admirably. Whenstorms arose he quietly lay down, and served as so much ballast tosteady the boat. "Tom, " the guide, kept him well supplied with foodfrom the rich nutritious grasses which grew abundantly along the shoreat our different camping-places. 

Winnipeg is considered one of the stormiest lakes on the AmericanContinent. It is about three hundred miles long, and varies from eightyto but a few miles in width. It is indented with innumerable bays, andis dangerous to navigators, on account of its many shoals and hiddenrocks. _Winnipeg_, or _Wenipak_, as some Indians pronounce it, means"the sea, " and _Keche Wenipak_ means "the ocean. "

The trip across Lake Winnipeg was one that at the present day would beconsidered a great hardship, taking into consideration the style of theboat and the way we travelled. 

Our method of procedure was about as follows. We were aroused veryearly in the morning by the guide's cry of _Koos koos kwa_! "Wake up!"Everybody was expected to obey promptly, as there was always a good dealof rivalry between the boats as to which could get away first. A hastybreakfast was prepared on the rocks; after which a morning hymn wassung, and an earnest prayer was offered up to Him Who holds the windsand waves under His control. 

Then "All aboard" was the cry, and soon tents, kettles, axes, and allthe other things were hurriedly gathered up and placed on board. If thewind was favourable, the mast was put up, the sail hoisted, and we weresoon rapidly speeding on our way. If the oars had to be used, there wasnot half the alacrity displayed by the poor fellows, who well knew howwearisome their task would be. When we had a favourable wind, wegenerally dined as well as we could in the boat, to save time, as therowers well knew how much more pleasant it was to glide along with thefavouring breeze than to be obliged to work at the heavy oars. Oftenduring whole nights we sailed on, although at considerable risks in thattreacherous lake, rather than lose the fair wind. For, if there everwas, in this world of uncertainties, one route of more uncertainty thananother, the palm must be conceded to the voyages on Lake Winnipeg inthose Hudson's Bay Company's inland boats. You might make the trip infour days, or even a few hours less; and you might be thirty days, and afew hours over. 

Once, in after years, I was detained for six days on a little rockyislet by a fierce northern gale, which at times blew with such forcethat we could not keep up a tent or even stand upright against its fury;and as there was not sufficient soil in which to drive a tent pin, we, with all our bedding and supplies, were drenched by the pitiless sleetand rain. Often in these later years, when I have heard people, sittingin the comfortable waiting-room of a railway station, bitterlycomplaining because a train was an hour or two late, memory has carriedme back to some of those long detentions amidst the most disagreeablesurroundings, and I have wondered at the trifles which can upset theequanimity of some or cause them to show such fretfulness. 

When the weather was fine, the camping on the shore was very enjoyable. Our tent was quickly erected by willing hands; the camp fire waskindled, and glowed with increasing brightness as the shadows of nightfell around us. The evening meal was soon prepared, and an hour or twowould sometimes be spent in pleasant converse with our dusky friends, who were most delightful travelling companions. Our days always beganand closed with a religious service. All of our Indian companions inthe two boats on this first trip were Christians, in the best and truestsense of the word. They were the converts of the earlier missionariesof our Church. At first they were a little reserved, and acted asthough they imagined we expected them to be very sedate and dignified. For, like some white folks, they imagined the "black-coat" and his wifedid not believe in laughter or pleasantry. However, we soon disabusedtheir minds of those erroneous ideas, and before we reached Norway Housewe were on the best of terms with each other. We knew but little oftheir language, but some of them had a good idea of English, and, usingthese as our interpreters, we got along finely. 

They were well furnished with Testaments and hymn-books, printed in thebeautiful syllabic characters; and they used them well. Thisworshipping with a people who used to us an unknown tongue was at firstrather novel; but it attracted and charmed us at once. We were forciblystruck with the reverential manner in which they conducted theirdevotions. No levity or indifference marred the solemnity of theirreligious services. They listened very attentively while one of theirnumber read to them from the sacred Word, and gave the closest attentionto what I had to say, through an interpreter. 

Very sweetly and soothingly sounded the hymns of praise and adorationthat welled up from their musical voices; and though we understood themnot, yet in their earnest prayers there seemed to be so much that wasreal and genuine, as in pathetic tones they offered up their petitions, that we felt it to be a great privilege and a source of much blessing, when with them we bowed at the mercy-seat of our great loving Father, toWhom all languages of earth are known, and before Whom all hearts areopen. 

Very helpful at times to devout worship were our surroundings. As inthe ancient days, when the vast multitudes gathered around Him on theseaside and were comforted and cheered by His presence, so we felt onthese quiet shores of the lake that we were worshipping Him Who isalways the same. At times delightful and suggestive were ourenvironments. With Winnipeg's sunlit waves before us, the blue skyabove us, the dark, deep, primeval forest as our background, and themassive granite rocks beneath us, we often felt a nearness of access toHim, the Sovereign of the universe, Who "dwelleth not in temples madewith hands, "--but "Who covereth Himself with light as with a garment;Who stretcheth out the heavens like a curtain; Who layeth the beams ofHis chambers in the waters; Who maketh the clouds his chariot; Whowalketh upon the wings of the wind; Who laid the foundations of theearth, that it should not be removed for ever. "

Our Sabbaths were days of rest. The Christian Indians had been taughtby their faithful missionaries the fourth commandment, and they kept itwell. Although far from their homes and their beloved sanctuary, theyrespected the day. When they camped on Saturday night, all thenecessary preparations were made for a quiet, restful Sabbath. All thewood that would be needed to cook the day's supplies was secured, andthe food that required cooking was prepared. Guns were stowed away, andalthough sometimes ducks or other game would come near, they were notdisturbed. Generally two religious services were held and enjoyed. TheTestaments and hymn-books were well used throughout the day, and anatmosphere of "Paradise Regained" seemed to pervade the place. 

At first, long years ago, the Hudson's Bay Company's officials bitterlyopposed the observance of the Sabbath by their boatmen and tripmen; butthe missionaries were true and firm, and although persecution for a timeabounded, eventually right and truth prevailed, and our ChristianIndians were left to keep the day without molestation. And, as hasalways been found to be the case in such instances, there was no loss, but rather gain. Our Christian Indians, who rested the Sabbath day, were never behindhand. On the long trips into the interior or down toYork Factory or Hudson Bay, these Indian canoe brigades used to makebetter time, have better health, and bring up their boats and cargoes inbetter shape, than the Catholic Half-breeds or pagan Indians, who pushedon without any day of rest. Years of studying this question, judgingfrom the standpoint of the work accomplished and its effects on men'sphysical constitution, apart altogether from its moral and religiousaspect, most conclusively taught me that the institution of the one dayin seven as a day of rest is for man's highest good. 

Thus we journeyed on, meeting with various adventures by the way. Oneevening, rather than lose the advantage of a good wind, our partyresolved to sail on throughout the night. We had no compass or chart, no moon or fickle Auroras lit up the watery waste. Clouds, dark andheavy, flitted by, obscuring the dim starlight, and adding to the riskand danger of our proceeding. On account of the gloom part of the crewwere kept on the watch continually. The bowsman, with a long pole inhis hands, sat in the prow of the boat, alert and watchful. For a longtime I sat with the steersman in the stern of our little craft, enjoyingthis weird way of travelling. Out of the darkness behind us into thevague blackness before us we plunged. Sometimes through the darknesscame the sullen roar and dash of waves against the rocky isles ordangerous shore near at hand, reminding us of the risks we were running, and what need there was of the greatest care. 

Our camp bed had been spread on some boards in the hinder part of ourlittle boat; and here Mrs Young, who for a time had enjoyed theexciting voyage, was now fast asleep. I remained up with "Big Tom"until after midnight; and then, having exhausted my stock of Indianwords in conversation with him, and becoming weary, I wrapped a blanketaround myself and lay down to rest. Hardly had I reached the land ofdreams, when I was suddenly awakened by being most unceremoniouslythrown, with wife, bedding, bales, boxes, and some drowsy Indians, onone side of the boat. We scrambled up as well as we could, andendeavoured to take in our situation. The darkness was intense, but wecould easily make out the fact that our boat was stuck fast. The windwhistled around us, and bore with such power upon our big sail that thewonder was that it did not snap the mast or ropes. The sail was quicklylowered, a lantern was lit, but its flickering light showed no land inview. 

We had run upon a submerged rock, and there we were held fast. In vainthe Indians, using their big oars as poles, endeavoured to push the boatback into deep water. Finding this impossible, some of them sprang outinto the water which threatened to engulf them; but, with the precariousfooting the submerged rock gave them, they pushed and shouted, when, being aided by a giant wave, the boat at last was pushed over into thedeep water beyond. At considerable risk and thoroughly drenched, thebrave fellows scrambled on board; the sail was again hoisted, and awaywe sped through the gloom and darkness. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

ARRIVAL AT NORWAY HOUSE--OUR NEW HOME--REVEREND CHARLES STRINGFELLOW--THUNDERSTORM--REVEREND JAMES EVANS--SYLLABIC CHARACTERS INVENTED--DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME--HELP FROM ENGLISH WESLEYAN MISSIONARY SOCIETY--EXTENSIVE USE OF THE SYLLABIC CHARACTERS--OUR PEOPLE, CHRISTIAN ANDPAGAN--LEARNING LESSONS BY DEAR EXPERIENCE--THE HUNGRY WOMAN--THE MANWITH THE TWO DUCKS--THE FIRST SABBATH IN OUR NEW FIELD--SUNDAY SCHOOLAND SABBATH SERVICES--FAMILY ALTARS. 

We reached Norway House on the afternoon of the 29th of July, 1868, andreceived a very cordial welcome from James Stewart, Esquire, thegentleman in charge of this Hudson's Bay post. This is one of the mostimportant establishments of this wealthy fur-trading Company. For manyyears it was the capital, at which the different officers and otherofficials from the different districts of this vast country were in thehabit of meeting annually for the purpose of arranging the variousmatters in connection with their prosecution of the fur trade. Here SirGeorge Simpson, for many years the energetic and despotic Governor, usedto come to meet these officials, travelling by birch canoe, manned byhis matchless crew of Iroquois Indians, all the way from Montreal, adistance of several thousand miles. Here immense quantities of furswere collected from the different trading posts, and then shipped toEngland by way of Hudson's Bay. 

The sight of this well-kept establishment, and the courtesy and cordialwelcome extended to us, were very pleasing after our long toilsomevoyage up Lake Winnipeg. But still we were two miles and a half fromour Indian Mission, and so we were full of anxiety to reach the end ofour journey. Mr Stewart, however, insisted on our remaining to teawith him, and then took us over to the Indian village in his own row-boat, manned by four sturdy Highlanders. Ere we reached the shore, sweet sounds of melody fell upon our ears. The Wednesday eveningservice was being held, and songs of praise were being sung by theIndian congregation, the notes of which reached us as we neared themargin and landed upon the rocky beach. We welcomed this as a pleasingomen, and rejoiced at it as one of the grand evidences of the Gospel'spower to change. Not many years ago the horrid yells of the conjurer, and the whoops of the savage Indians, were here the only familiarsounds. Now the sweet songs of Zion are heard, and God's praises aresung by a people whose lives attest the genuineness of the workaccomplished. 

We were cordially welcomed by Mrs Stringfellow in the Mission house, and were soon afterwards joined by her husband, who had been conductingthe religious services in the church. Very thankful were we that afterour long and adventurous journeyings for two months and eighteen days, by land and water, through the good providence of God we had reached ourfield of toil among the Cree Indians, where for years we were to bepermitted to labour. 

Mr and Mrs Stringfellow remained with us for a few days ere they setout on their return trip to the province of Ontario. We took sweetcounsel together, and I received a great deal of valuable information inreference to the prosecution of our work among these Red men. Foreleven years the missionary and his wife had toiled and suffered in thisnorthern land. A goodly degree of success had attended their efforts, and we were much pleased with the state in which we found everythingconnected with the Mission. 

While we were at family prayers the first evening after our arrival, there came up one of the most terrific thunderstorms we everexperienced. The heavy Mission house, although built of logs, and wellmudded and clap-boarded, shook so much while we were on our knees thatseveral large pictures fell from the walls; one of which, tumbling onBrother Stringfellow's head, put a very sudden termination to hisevening devotions. 

Rossville Mission, Norway House, was commenced by the Reverend JamesEvans in the year 1840. It has been, and still is, one of the mostsuccessful Indian Missions in America. Here Mr Evans invented thesyllabic characters, by which an intelligent Indian can learn to readthe Word of God in ten days or two weeks. Earnestly desirous to devisesome method by which the wandering Indians could acquire the art ofreading in a more expeditious manner than by the use of the Englishalphabet, he invented these characters, each of which stands for asyllable. He carved his first type with his pocket-knife, and procuredthe lead for the purpose from the tea-chests of the Hudson's BayCompany's post. His first ink he made out of the soot from the chimney, and his first paper was birch bark. Great was the excitement among theIndians when he had perfected his invention, and had begun printing intheir own language. The conjurers, and other pagan Indians, were verymuch alarmed, when, as they expressed it, they found the "bark of thetree was beginning to talk. "

The English Wesleyan Missionary Society was early impressed with theadvantage of this wonderful invention, and the great help it would be incarrying on the blessed work. At great expense they sent out a printingpress, with a large quantity of type, which they had had specially cast. Abundance of paper, and everything else essential, were furnished. Foryears portions of the Word of God, and a goodly number of hymnstranslated into the Cree language, were printed, and incalculable goodresulted. 

Other missionary organisations at work in the country quickly saw theadvantage of using these syllabic characters, and were not slow to availthemselves of them. While all lovers of Missions rejoice at this, it isto be regretted that some, from whom better things might have beenexpected, were anxious to take the credit of the invention, instead ofgiving it to its rightful claimant, the Reverend James Evans. It is aremarkable fact, that so perfectly did Mr Evans do his work, that noimprovement has been made as regards the use of these characters amongthe Cree Indians. 

Other missionaries have introduced them among other tribes, withadditions to meet the sounds used in those tribes which are not foundamong the Crees. They have even been successfully utilised by theMoravians among the Esquimaux. 

On our arrival at Rossville the Indians crowded in to see the newmissionary and his wife, and were very cordial in their greetings. Evensome pagan Indians, dressed up in their wild picturesque costumes, cameto see us, and were very friendly. 

As quickly as possible we settled down to our work, and tried to graspits possibilities. We saw many pleasing evidences of what had beenaccomplished by faithful predecessors, and were soon convinced of thegreatness of the work yet to be done. For, while from our church, andthe houses of our Christian people, the songs of Zion were heard, oureyes were saluted by the shouts and yells of old Indian conjurers andmedicine-men, added to the monotonous sounds of their drums, which cameto us nightly from almost every point in the compass, from islands andheadlands not far away. 

Our first Sabbath was naturally a very interesting day. Our owncuriosity to see our people was doubtless equalled by that of the peopleto see their new missionary. Pagans flocked in with Christians, untilthe church was crowded. We were very much pleased with their respectfuldemeanour in the house of God. There was no laughing or frivolity inthe sanctuary. With their moccasined feet and cat-like tread, severalhundred Indians did not make one quarter the noise often heard inChristian lands, made by audiences one-tenth the size. We were muchdelighted with their singing. There is a peculiar plaintive sweetnessabout Indian singing that has for me a special attractiveness. Scoresof them brought their Bibles to the church. When I announced thelessons for the day, the quickness with which they found the placesshowed their familiarity with the sacred volume. During prayers theywere old-fashioned Methodists enough to kneel down while the Sovereignof the universe was being addressed. They sincerely and literallyentered into the spirit of the Psalmist when he said: "O come, let usworship and bow down: let us kneel before the Lord our Maker. "

I was fortunate in securing for my interpreter a thoroughly good Indianby the name of Timothy Bear. He was of an emotional nature, andrendered good service to the cause of Christ. Sometimes, wheninterpreting for me the blessed truths of the Gospel, his heart wouldget fired up, and he would become so absorbed in his theme that he wouldin a most eloquent way beseech and plead with the people to accept thiswonderful salvation. 

As the days rolled by, and we went in and out among them, and contrastedthe pagan with the Christian Indian, we saw many evidences that theGospel is still the power of God unto salvation, and that, wheneveraccepted in its fulness, it brings not only peace and joy to the heart, but is attended by the secondary blessings of civilisation. TheChristian Indians could easily be picked out by the improved appearanceof their homes, as well as by the marvellous change in their lives andactions. 

We found out, before we had been there many days, that we had much tolearn about Indian customs and habits and modes of thought. Forexample: the day after Mr and Mrs Stringfellow had left us, a poorwoman came in, and by the sign language let Mrs Young know that she wasvery hungry. On the table were a large loaf of bread, a large piece ofcorned beef, and a dish of vegetables, left over from our boat supplies. My good wife's sympathies were aroused at the poor woman's story, and, cutting off a generous supply of meat and bread, and adding thereto alarge quantity of the vegetables and a quart of tea, she seated thewoman at the table before the hearty meal. Without any trouble theguest disposed of the whole, and then, to our amazement, began pullingup the skirt of her dress at the side till she had formed a capaciouspocket. Reaching over, she seized the meat, and put it in this largereceptacle, the loaf of bread quickly followed, and lastly, the dish ofvegetables. Then, getting up from her chair, she turned towards us, saying, "Na-nas-koo-moo-wi-nah, " which is the Cree for thanksgiving. She gracefully backed out of the dining-room, holding carefully onto hersupplies. Mrs Young and I looked in astonishment, but said nothingtill she had gone out. We could not help laughing at the queer sight, although the food which had disappeared in this unexpected way was whatwas to have been our principal support for two or three days, until oursupplies should have arrived. Afterwards, when expressing ourastonishment at what looked like the greediness of this woman, welearned that she had only complied with the strict etiquette of hertribe. It seems it is their habit, when they make a feast for anybody, or give them a dinner, if fortunate enough to have abundance of food, toput a large quantity before them. The invited guest is expected to eatall he can, and then to carry the rest away. This was exactly what thepoor woman did. From this lesson of experience we learnt just to placebefore them what we felt our limited abilities enabled us to give at thetime. 

One day a fine-looking Indian came in with a couple of fat ducks. Asour supplies were low, we were glad to see them; and in taking them Iasked him what I should give him for them. His answer was, "O, nothing;they are a _present_ for the missionary and his wife. " Of course I wasdelighted at this exhibition of generosity on the part of this entirestranger to us so soon after our arrival in this wild land. The Indianat once made himself at home with us, and kept us busy answeringquestions and explaining to him everything that excited his curiosity. Mrs Young had to leave her work to play for his edification on thelittle melodeon. He remained to dinner, and ate one of the ducks, whileMrs Young and I had the other. He hung around all the afternoon, anddid ample justice to a supper out of our supplies. He tarried with usuntil near the hour for retiring, when I gently hinted to him that Ithought it was about time he went to see if his wigwam was where he leftit. 

"O, " he exclaimed, "I am only waiting. "

"Waiting?" I said; "for what are you waiting?"

"I am waiting for the _present_ you are going to give me for the_present_ I gave you. "

I at once took in the situation, and went off and got him somethingworth half-a-dozen times as much as his ducks, and he went off veryhappy. 

When he was gone, my good wife and I sat down, and we said, "Here islesson number _two_. Perhaps, after we have been here a while, we shallknow something about the Indians. "

After that we accepted of no presents from them, but insisted on payinga reasonable price for everything we needed which they had to sell. 

Our Sunday's work began with the Sunday School at nine o'clock. All theboys and girls attended, and often there were present many of theadults. The children were attentive and respectful, and many of themwere able to repeat large portions of Scripture from memory. A goodlynumber studied the Catechism translated into their own Language. Theysang the hymns sweetly, and joined with us in repeating the Lord'sPrayer. 

The public service followed at half-past ten o'clock. This morningservice was always in English, although the hymns, lessons, and textwould be announced in the two languages. The Hudson's Bay officials whomight be at the Fort two miles away, and all their _employes_, regularlyattended this morning service. Then, as many of the Indians understoodEnglish, and our object was ever to get them all to know more and moreabout it, this service usually was largely attended by the people. Thegreat Indian service was held in the afternoon. It was all their own, and was very much prized by them. At the morning service they were verydignified and reserved; at the afternoon they sang with an enthusiasmthat was delightful, and were not afraid, if their hearts prompted themto it, to come out with a glad "Amen!"

They bring with them to the sanctuary their Bibles, and very sweet to myears was the rustle of many leaves as they rapidly turned to the Lessonsof the day in the Old or New Testament. Sermons were never consideredtoo long. Very quietly and reverently did the people come into thehouse of God, and with equal respect for the place, and for Him Whomthere they had worshipped, did they depart. Dr Taylor, one of ourmissionary secretaries, when visiting us, said at the close of one ofthese hallowed afternoon services, "Mr Young, if the good people whohelp us to support Missions and missionaries could see what my eyes havebeheld to-day, they would most cheerfully and gladly give us tenthousand dollars a year more for our Indian Missions. "

Every Sunday evening I went over to the Fort, by canoe in summer, anddog-train in winter, and held service there. A little chapel had beenspecially fitted up for these evening services. Another service wasalso held in the church at the Mission by the Indians themselves. Therewere among them several who could preach very acceptable sermons, andothers who, with a burning eloquence, could tell, like Paul, the storyof their own conversion, and beseech others to be likewise reconciled toGod. 

We were surprised at times by seeing companies of pagan Indians stalkinto the church during the services, not always acting in a way becomingto the house or day. At first it was a matter of surprise to me thatour Christian Indians put up with some of these irregularities. I wasvery much astounded one day by the entrance of an old Indian calledTapastonum, who, rattling his ornaments, and crying, "Ho! Ho!" cameinto the church in a sort of trot, and gravely kissed several of the menand women. As my Christian Indians seemed to stand the interruption, Ifelt that I could. Soon he sat down, at the invitation of Big Tom, andlistened to me. He was grotesquely dressed, and had a good-sizedlooking-glass hanging on his breast, kept in its place by a string hungaround his neck. To aid himself in listening, he lit his big pipe andsmoked through the rest of the service. When I spoke to the peopleafterwards about the conduct of this man, so opposite to their quiet, respectful demeanour in the house of God, their expressive, charitableanswer was: "Such were we once, as ignorant as Tapastonum is now. Letus have patience with him, and perhaps he, too, will soon decide to givehis heart to God. Let him come; he will get quiet when he gets thelight. "

The week evenings were nearly all filled up with services of one kind oranother, and were well attended, or otherwise, according as the Indiansmight be present at the village, or away hunting, or fishing, or"tripping" for the Hudson's Bay Company. What pleased us very much wasthe fact that in the homes of the people there were so many familyaltars. It was very delightful to take a quiet walk in the gloamingthrough the village, and hear from so many little homes the voice of thehead of the family reading the precious volume, or the sounds of prayerand praise. Those were times when in every professed Christian home inthe village there was a family altar. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

CONSTANT PROGRESS--WOMAN'S SAD CONDITION IN PAGANISM--ILLUSTRATIONS--WONDROUS CHANGES PRODUCED BY CHRISTIANITY--ILLUSTRATIONS--NEW YEAR'S DAYCHRISTIAN FESTIVAL--THE AGED AND FEEBLE ONES FIRST REMEMBERED--CLOSINGTHANKSGIVING SERVICES. 

We found ourselves in a Christian village surrounded by paganism. Thecontrast between the two classes was very evident. 

Our Christians, as fast as they were able to build, were living incomfortable houses, and earnestly endeavouring to lift themselves up inthe social circle. Their personal appearance was better, andcleanliness was accepted as next to godliness. On the Sabbaths theywere well dressed, and presented such a respectable and devoutappearance in the sanctuary as to win the admiration of all who visitedus. The great majority of those who made a profession of faith livedhonest, sober, and consistent lives, and thus showed the genuineness ofthe change wrought in them by the glorious Gospel of the Son of God. 

One of the most delightful and tangible evidences of the thoroughnessand genuineness of the change was seen in the improvement in the familylife. Such a thing as genuine home life, with mutual love and sympathyexisting among the different members of the family, was unknown in theirpagan state. The men, and even boys, considered it a sign of courageand manliness to despise and shamefully treat their mothers, wives, orsisters. Christianity changed all this; and we were constant witnessesof the genuineness of the change wrought in the hearts and lives of thispeople by the preaching of the Gospel, by seeing how woman was upliftedfrom her degraded position to her true place in the household. 

My heart was often pained at what I saw among some of the wild savagebands around us. When, by canoe in summer, or dog-train in winter, Ihave visited these wild men, I have seen the proud, lazy hunter comestalking into the camp with his gun on his shoulder, and in loud, imperative tones shout out to his poor wife, who was busily engaged incutting wood, "Get up there, you dog, my squaw, and go back on my tracksin the woods, and bring in the deer I have shot; and hurry, for I wantmy food!" To quicken her steps, although she was hurrying as rapidly aspossible, a stick was thrown at her, which fortunately she was able tododge. 

Seizing the long carrying strap, which is a piece of leather severalfeet in length, and wide at the middle, where it rests against theforehead when in use, she rapidly glides away on the trail made by herhusband's snow-shoes, it may be for miles, to the spot where lies thedeer he has shot. Fastening one end of the strap to the haunches of thedeer, and the other around its neck, after a good deal of effort andingenuity, she succeeds at length in getting the animal, which may weighfrom a hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds, upon her back, supportedby the strap across her forehead. Panting with fatigue, she comes inwith her heavy burden, and as she throws it down she is met with a sharpstern command from the lips of the despot called her husband, who hasthought it beneath his dignity to carry in the deer himself, but whoimagines it to be a sign of his being a great brave thus to treat hiswife. The gun was enough for him to carry. Without giving the poortired creature a moment's rest, he shouts out again for her to hurry upand be quick; he is hungry, and wants his dinner. 

The poor woman, although almost exhausted, knows full well, by thebitter experiences of the past, that to delay an instant would bringupon herself severe punishment, and so she quickly seizes the scalpingknife and deftly skins the animal, and fills a pot with the savouryvenison, which is soon boiled and placed before his highness. While he, and the men and boys whom he may choose to invite to eat with him, arerapidly devouring the venison, the poor woman has her first moments ofrest. She goes and seats herself down where women and girls and dogsare congregated, and there women and dogs struggle for the half-pickedbones which the men, with derisive laughter, throw among them!

This was one of the sad aspects of paganism which I often had to witnessas I travelled among those bands that had not, up to that time, acceptedthe Gospel. When these poor women get old and feeble, very sad anddeplorable is their condition. When able to toil and slave, they aretolerated as necessary evils. When aged and weak, they are shamefullyneglected, and, often, put out of existence. 

One of the missionaries, on visiting a pagan band, preached from thoseblessed words of the Saviour: "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and areheavy laden, and I will give you rest. " In his sermon he spoke aboutlife's toils and burdens, and how all men had to work and labour. Themen of the congregation were very angry at him; and at an indignationmeeting which they held, they said, "Let him go to the squaws with thatkind of talk. They have to carry all the heavy burdens, and do the hardwork. Such stuff as that is not for us men, but for the women. " Sothey were offended at him. 

At a small Indian settlement on the north-eastern shores of LakeWinnipeg lived a chief by the name of Moo-koo-woo-soo, who deliberatelystrangled his mother, and then burnt her body to ashes. When questionedabout the horrid deed, he coolly and heartlessly said that as she hadbecome too old to snare rabbits or catch fish, he was not going to bebothered with keeping her, and so he deliberately put her to death. Such instances could be multiplied many times. Truly "the tendermercies of the wicked are cruel. "

In delightful contrast to these sad sights among the degraded savagesaround us, were the kindly ways and happy homes of our convertedIndians. Among them a woman occupied her true position, and was welland lovingly treated. The aged and infirm, who but for the Gospel wouldhave been dealt with as Moo-koo-woo-soo dealt with his mother, had thewarmest place in the little home and the daintiest morsel on the table. I have seen the sexton of the church throw wide open the door of thesanctuary, that two stalwart young men might easily enter, carrying intheir arms their invalid mother, who had expressed a desire to come tothe house of God. Tenderly they supported her until the service ended, and then they lovingly carried her home again. But for the Gospel'sblessed influences on their haughty natures they would have died eredoing such a thing for a woman, even though she were their own mother. 

Life for the women was not now all slavery. They had their happy hours, and knew well how to enjoy them. Nothing, however, seemed so to delightthem as to be gliding about in the glorious summer time in their lightcanoes. And sometimes, combining pleasure with profit, many a duck wasshot by these young Indian maidens. 

This changed feeling towards the aged and afflicted ones we have seenmanifested in a very expressive and blessed way at the great annual NewYear's Feast. It was customary for the Indians, long before they becameChristians, to have a great feast at the beginning of the New Year. Inthe old times, the principal article of food at these horrid feasts wasdogs, the eating of which was accompanied by many revolting ceremonies. The missionaries, instead of abolishing the feast, turned it into areligious festival. I carried out the methods of my worthy predecessorsat Norway House, and so we had a feast every New Year's Day. 

The Crees call this day "Ooche-me-gou Kesigow, " which literally means"the kissing day, " as on this day the men claim the right to kiss everywoman they meet; and, strange to say, every woman expects to be kissed. It used to amuse me very much to see thirty or forty Indians, dressed upin their finest apparel, come quietly marching into the Mission House, and gravely kiss Mrs Young on her cheek. When I used to rally her overthis strange phase of unexpected missionary experience, she wouldlaughingly retort, "O, you need not laugh at me. See that crowd ofwomen out there in the yard, expecting you to go out and kiss them!" Itwas surprising how much work that day kept me shut in my study; or ifthat expedient would not avail, I used to select a dear old sweet-faced, white-haired grandma, the mother of the chief, and say, "Now I am goingto kiss grandma; and as I kiss her you must all consider yourselveskissed. " This institution is more ancient among them than shakinghands, about which they knew nothing until it was introduced by thewhites. 

For weeks before New Year's Day great preparations were made for thefeast. A council would be called, and the men would have recorded whatthey were willing to give towards it. Some, who were good deer-hunters, promised venison. Others promised so many beavers. Perhaps there werethose who knew where bears had made their winter dens, and they agreedto go and kill them for the feast. Others, who were good fur-hunters, stated their willingness to exchange some of the furs they would catchfor flour and tea and sugar at the trading post. 

Thus the business went on, until enough was promised, with the liberalsupplies given by the Hudson's Bay Company's officials and themissionary, to make the affair a great success. An outbuilding of theMission, called "the fish house, " was the place where all these variousthings, as they were obtained, were stored. Months were sometimesconsumed in collecting the meat. But Jack Frost is a good preservative, and so nothing spoiled. A few days before the feast, Mrs Young wouldselect several of the Indian women, and under her superintendency thevarious supplies would be cooked. Very clever were these willinghelpers; and in a short time a quantity of food would be piled up, sufficient for all, although it is well known that Indians have goodappetites. 

When the great day arrived, the men quickly removed the seats out of thechurch, and there put up long tables. Great boilers of tea were madeready, and every preparation was completed for a good time. But, beforea mouthful was eaten by any of the eight hundred or thousand personspresent, the chief used to ask me for a pencil and a piece of writingpaper; and then, standing up on a box or bench, he would shout out, "Howmany of our people are aged, or sick, or afflicted, and cannot be withus to-day!" As one name after another was mentioned, he rapidly wrotethem down. Then he read over the list, and said, "Let us not forget anyone. " Somebody shouted out, "There is an old woman ten miles up theriver towards the old Fort. " Somebody else said, "Have you the name ofthat boy who was accidentally shot in the leg?" Their names were bothput down. Then somebody says, "There are two or three left behind inthe tent of the pagans, while the rest have come to the feast. " "Let usfeed those who have come, and send something with our kind greetings tothe others, " is the unanimous response. 

When it was certain that none had been overlooked, request was made tome for all the old newspapers and packing paper I could give them, andsoon loving hands were busily engaged in cutting off large pieces ofdifferent kinds of meat and arranging them with the large flat cakes ingenerous bundles. To these were added little packages of tea and sugar. In this way as many large bundles--each containing an assortment ofeverything at the feast--would be made up as there were names on thepaper. Then the chief would call in, from where the young men werebusily engaged in playing football, as many of the fleet runners asthere were bundles, and giving each his load, would indicate the personto whom he was to give it, and also would add, "Give them our New Year'sgreetings and sympathy, and tell them we are sorry they cannot be withus to-day. "

Very delightful were these sights to us. Such things paid us athousandfold for our hardships and sufferings. Here, before a mouthfulwas eaten by the healthy and vigorous ones, large generous bundles, thatwould last for days, were sent off to the aged and infirm or woundedones, who in all probability, but for the blessed influences of theGospel, if not quickly and cruelly put out of existence, would have beenallowed to linger on in neglect and wretchedness. 

Even the young runners seemed to consider that it was an honour to bepermitted to carry these bundles, with the loving messages, to thedistant homes or wigwams where the afflicted ones were. It was quiteamusing to watch them tighten up their belts and dash off like deers. Some of them had several miles to go; but what cared they on this gladday?

According to seniority the tables were filled, and the feast began assoon as the "Grace before Meat" had been sung. Mrs Young had her ownlong table, and to it she invited not only the Hudson's Bay Company'speople, but as many of the aged and worthy from among the poor Indiansas we wished specially to honour. Sometimes we filled one table withwild pagans who had come in from some distant forest home, attracted bythe reports of the coming great feast. Through their stomachs wesometimes reached their hearts, and won them to Christ. 

Thus for hours the feast continued, until all had been supplied. Nonewere neglected, and everybody was happy. Then with a glad heart theysang:

 "Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow. "

When all the guests were satisfied, what was left was carried off by theneedy ones, among whom it was generously divided; the tables werequickly taken down by the men, and the church was speedily swept cleanby some active women. The seats and pews were replaced, and everyarrangement was made for the great annual New Year's Meeting. Thechurch was lit up; and when the audience had gathered, a chairman wasappointed, and, after singing and prayer, speeches were made by severalof the Indians. 

Many pleasant and many sensible things were said. Some of the sober-minded ones reviewed the year just gone, with all its blessings andmercies, and expressed the hope that the one on which they had enteredwould be crowned with blessings. Some of the speeches referred toTreaty matters with the Government, and others were in reference totheir huntings and fisheries. Some were bright and witty, and werereceived with laughter and applause. Others were of a serious, religious character, and were equally welcome, and touched responsivehearts. With pleasure I noticed that in them all the most frequent wordwas "Na-nas-koomoo-win-ah, " which means "Thanksgiving, " and for this myheart rejoiced. Thus ended, with the Doxology and Benediction, thesehappy days, in which we saw so many evidences that the preaching of theGospel had not been in vain. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

OXFORD HOUSE MISSION--VISITED BY CANOE--DESCRIPTION OF THIS USEFULCRAFT-INDIAN SKILL--OXFORD LAKE--DR. TAYLOR--EDWARD PAPANEKIS--STILL ONTHE TRAIL BY BIRCH CANOE--NARROW ESCAPE FROM BEING CRUSHED BY THE ICE--ON STORMY LAKE WINNIPEG--PIONEERING FARTHER NORTH--SUCCESSES--"SHOW USTHE FATHER, AND IT SUFFICETH US"--CHRIST ACCEPTED IN THE PLACE OF IDOLS. 

I had received instructions from the Missionary Secretaries to visitOxford Mission as soon as possible, and to do all I could for itsupbuilding. This Mission had had a good measure of success in yearsgone by. A church and Mission house had been built at Jackson's Bay, and many of the Indians had been converted. But the village was too farfrom the Hudson's Bay Company's Post, where the Indians traded, andwhere naturally they gathered. For several years the work had been leftin charge of a native teacher. The people regretted the absence of anordained Missionary, and the place suffered accordingly. Making all thearrangements I could for the successful prosecution of the work in myabsence, I left Norway House in a small canoe, manned by two of myChristian Indians, one of whom was my interpreter. With this wonderfullittle boat I was now to make my first intimate acquaintance. For thiswild land of broad lakes and rapid rivers and winding creeks, the birch-bark canoe is the boat of all others most admirably fitted. It is tothe Indian denizen here what the horse is to his more warlike redbrother on the great prairies, or what the camel is to those who liveand wander amidst Arabian deserts. The canoe is absolutely essential tothese natives in this land, where there are no other roads than theintricate devious water routes. It is the frailest of all boats, yet itcan be loaded down to the water's edge, and, under the skilful guidanceof these Indians, who are unquestionably the finest canoe men in theworld, it can be made to respond to the sweep of their paddles, so thatit seems almost instinct with life and reason. What they can do in it, and with it, appeared to me at times perfectly marvellous. Yet when weremember that for about five months of every year some of the huntersalmost live in it, this may not seem so very wonderful. It carries themby day, and in it, or under it, they often sleep by night. At the manyportages which have to be made in this land, where the rivers are sofull of falls and rapids, one man can easily carry it on his head to thesmooth water beyond. In it we have travelled thousands of miles, whilegoing from place to place with the blessed tidings of salvation to thesewandering bands scattered over my immense Circuit. Down the wild rapidswe have rushed for miles together, and then out into great Winnipeg, orother lakes, so far from shore that the distant headlands were scarcevisible. Foam-crested waves have often seemed as though about tooverwhelm us, and treacherous gales to swamp us, yet my faithful, well-trained canoe men were always equal to every emergency, and by theaccuracy of their judgment, and the quickness of their movements, appeared ever to do exactly the right thing at the right moment. As theresult, I came at length to feel as much at home in a canoe as anywhereelse, and with God's blessing was permitted to make many long trips tothose who could not be reached in any other way, except by dog-trains inwinter. 

Good canoe-makers are not many, and so really good canoes are always indemand. 

Frail and light as this Indian craft may be, there is a great deal ofskill and ingenuity required in its construction. 

Great care is requisite in taking the bark from the tree. A longincision is first made longitudinally in the trunk of the tree. Then, from this cut, the Indian begins, and with his keen knife graduallypeels off the whole of the bark, as high up as his incision went, in onelarge piece or sheet. And even now that he has safely got it off thetree, the greatest care is necessary in handling it, as it will split orcrack very easily. Cedar is preferred for the woodwork, and when it canpossibly be obtained, is always used. But in the section of the countrywhere I lived, as we were north of the cedar limit, the canoe-makersused pieces of the spruce tree, split very thin, as the best substitutefor cedar that our country afforded. 

All the sewing of the pieces of birch bark together, and the fasteningof the whole to the outer frame, is done with the long slender roots ofthe balsam or larch trees, which are soaked and rubbed until they are asflexible as narrow strips of leather. When all the sewing is done, themany narrow limber pieces of spruce are crowded into their places, giving the whole canoe its requisite proportions and strength. Then theseams and weak spots are well covered over with melted pitch, which theIndians obtain from the spruce and balsam trees. 

Great care is taken to make the canoe watertight. To accomplish this, the boat is often swung between trees and filled with water. Everyplace where the slightest leak is discovered is marked, and, when thecanoe is emptied, is carefully attended to. 

Canoes vary in style and size. Each tribe using them has its ownpatterns, and it was to me an ever interesting sight, to observe howadmirably suited to the character of the lakes and rivers were thecanoes of each tribe or district. 

The finest and largest canoes were those formerly made by the LakeSuperior Indians. Living on the shores of that great inland sea, theyrequired canoes of great size and strength. These "great north canoes, "as they were called, could easily carry from a dozen to a score ofpaddlers, with a cargo of a couple of tons of goods. In the old days ofthe rival fur-traders, these great canoes played a very prominent part. Before steam or even large sailing vessels had penetrated into thosenorthern lakes, these canoes were extensively used, loaded with the richfurs of those wild forests, they used to come down into the Ottawa, andthence on down that great stream, often even as far as to Montreal. 

Sir George Simpson, the energetic but despotic and unprincipled governorof the Hudson's Bay Company for many years, used to travel in one ofthese birch canoes all the way from Montreal up the Ottawa on throughLake Nipissing into Georgian Bay; from thence into Lake Superior, on toThunder Bay. From this place, with indomitable pluck, he pushed on backinto the interior, through the Lake of the Woods, down the tortuousriver Winnipeg into the lake of the same name. Along the whole lengthof this lake he annually travelled, in spite of its treacherous stormsand annoying head winds, to preside over the Council and attend to thebusiness of the wealthiest fur-trading company that ever existed, overwhich he watched with eagle eye, and in every department of which hisdistinct personality was felt. His famous Iroquois crew are stilltalked about, and marvellous are the stories in circulation about many anorthern camp fire of their endurance and skill. 

How rapid the changes which are taking place in this world of ours! Itseems almost incredible, in these days of mighty steamships going almosteverywhere on our great waters, to think that there are hundreds ofpeople still living who distinctly remember when the annual trips of agreat governor were made from Montreal to Winnipeg in a birch-barkCanoe, manned by Indians. 

Of this light Indian craft Longfellow wrote:--

 "Give me of your bark, O Birch tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and stately in the valley! I a light canoe will build me, Build a swift canoe for sailing. 

 "Thus the Birch canoe was builded In the valley, by the river, In the bosom of the forest; All its mystery and its magic, All the brightness of the birch tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch trees supple sinews; And it floated on the river Like a yellow leaf in autumn, Like a yellow water-lily. "

We left for Oxford Mission on the 8th of September. The distance isover two hundred miles, through the wildest country imaginable. We didnot see a house--with the exception of those built by the beavers--fromthe time we left our Mission home until we reached our destination. Wepaddled through a bewildering variety of picturesque lakes, rivers, andcreeks. When no storms or fierce head-winds impeded us, we were able tomake fifty or sixty miles a day. When night overtook us, we camped onthe shore. Sometimes it was very pleasant and romantic. At othertimes, when storms raged and we were drenched with the rain sothoroughly that for days we had not a dry stitch upon us, it was notquite so agreeable. 

We generally began our day's journey very early in the morning, if theweather was at all favourable, and paddled on as rapidly as possible, since we knew not when head-winds might arise and stop our progress. The Oxford route is a very diversified one. There are lakes, large andsmall, across which we had to paddle. In some of them, when the windwas favourable, our Indians improvised a sail out of one of ourblankets. Lashing it to a couple of oars, they lifted it up in thefavouring wind, and thus very rapidly did we speed on our way. 

At times we were in broad beautiful rivers, and then paddling along inlittle narrow creeks amidst the reeds and rushes. We passed over, or, as they say in that country, "made" nine portages around picturesquefalls or rapids. In these portages one of the Indians carried the canoeon his head. The other made a great load of the bedding and provisions, all of which he carried on his back. My load consisted of the two guns, ammunition, two kettles, the bag containing my changes of raiment, and apackage of books for the Indians we were to visit. How the Indianscould run so quickly through the portages was to me a marvel. Often thepath was but a narrow ledge of rock against the side of the greatgranite cliff. At other times it was through the quaking bog ortreacherous muskeg. To them it seemed to make no difference. On theywent with their heavy loads at that swinging Indian stride which soonleft me far behind. On some of my canoe trips the portages were severalmiles long, and through regions so wild that there was nothing toindicate to me the right direction. When we were making them, I used tofollow on as long as I knew I was in the right way. When I lost thetrail, I at once stopped and patiently waited until one of my faithfulmen, having carried his load safely to the end, would come back for me. Quickly picking up my load, he would hurry off, and even then, unencumbered as I was, it was often as much as I could do to keep upwith him. 

Oxford Lake is one of the most beautiful and picturesque lakes I eversaw. It is between twenty and thirty miles long and several miles wide. It is studded with islands of every imaginable variety. Its waters arealmost as transparent as the clear, fresh air above it. When no breathripples its surface, one can look down into its crystal depths and see, many feet below, the great fish quietly moving about. 

To visit the Indians who fish in its waters, and hunt upon its shores, Ionce brought one of our Missionary Secretaries, the eloquent ReverendLachlin Taylor, DD. The trip down had not been one of the mostpleasant. The rains had drenched him, and the mosquitoes had plaguedhim with such persistency, that he loudly bemoaned his lot in beingfound in a country that was cursed with such abominable animals. 

One night I heard him muttering between his efforts to get them out ofhis tent, where he declared they were attacking him in battalions:--

 "They throng the air, and darken heaven, And curse this Western land. "

However, when we reached Oxford Lake, the mosquitoes left us for a time. The sun came out in splendour, and we had some days of rarest beauty. The good doctor regained his spirits, and laughed when I rallied him onsome of his strong expressions about the country, and told him that Ihoped, as the result of his experience, he, as all MissionarySecretaries ought, would have a good deal of sympathy for theMissionaries who live in such regions for years together. 

We camped for the night on one of the most picturesque points. We hadtwo canoes, and to man them four Indians from our Norway House Mission. As the doctor was an enthusiastic fisherman, he decided that we muststop there during the forenoon, while he tried his hand. His first haulwas a splendid pike over two feet long. Great was his excitement as hissuccess was assured. Eloquence poured from him; we were flooded withit. The Indians looked on in amazement while he talked of the beautiesof the lake and islands, of the water and the sky. 

"Wait a moment, doctor, " I said. "I can add to the wild beauty of theplace something that will please your artistic eye. "

I requested two fine-looking Indians to launch one of the canoes, and toquietly paddle out to the edge of an island which abruptly rose from thedeep, clear waters before us, the top of which had on it a number ofsplendid spruce and balsams, massed together in natural beauty. Idirected the men to drop over the side of the canoe a long fishing line, and then, posing them in striking attitudes in harmony with the place, Iasked them to keep perfectly still until every ripple made by theircanoe had died away. 

I confess I was entranced by the loveliness of the sight. Thereflections of the canoe and men, and of the islands and rocks, were asvivid as the actual realities. So clear and transparent was the water, that where it and the air met there seemed but a narrow thread betweenthe two elements. Not a breath of air stirred, not a ripple moved. Itwas one of those sights which come to us but seldom in a lifetime, whereeverything is in perfect unison, and God gives us glimpses of what thisworld, His footstool, must have been before sin entered. 

"Doctor, " I said quietly, for my heart was full of the Doxology, "tellme what you think of that vision. "

Standing up, with a great rock beneath his feet, in a voice ofsuppressed emotion he began. Quietly at first he spoke, but soon he wascarried away with his own eloquence:--

"I know well the lochs of my own beloved Scotland, for in many of them Ihave rowed and fished. I have visited all the famed lakes of Ireland, and have rowed on those in the Lake counties of England. I havetravelled far and oft on our great American lakes, and have seen Tahoe, in all its crystal beauty. I have rowed on the Bosphorus, and travelledin a felucca on the Nile. I have lingered in the gondola on the canalsof Venice, and have traced Rob Roy's canoe in the Sea of Galilee, and onthe old historic Jordan. I have seen, in my wanderings in many lands, places of rarest beauty, but the equal of this mine eyes have nevergazed upon. "

Never after did I see the lake as we saw it that day. 

On it we have had to battle against fierce storms, where the angry wavesseemed determined to engulf us. Once, in speeding along as well as wecould from island to island, keeping in the lee as much as possible, weran upon a sharp rock and stove a hole in our canoe. We had to use ourpaddles desperately to reach the shore, and when we had done so, wefound our canoe half-full of water, in which our bedding and food weresoaked. We hurriedly built a fire, melted some pitch, and mended ourcanoe, and hurried on. 

On this lake, which can give us such pictures of wondrous beauty, I haveencountered some of the greatest gales and tempests against which I haveever had to contend, even in this land of storms and blizzards. Then inwinter, upon its frozen surface it used to seem to me that the FrostKing held high carnival. Terrible were the sufferings of both dogs andmen on some of those trips. One winter, in spite of all the wraps Icould put around me, making it possible for me to run--for riding wasout of the question, so intense was the cold--every part of my faceexposed to the pitiless blast was frozen. My nose, cheeks, eyebrows, and even lips, were badly frozen, and for days after I suffered. Cuffy, the best of my Newfoundland dogs, had all of her feet frozen, and evenJack's were sore for many a day after. My loyal Indians suffered also, and we all declared Oxford Lake to be a cold place in winter, and itsstorms worse than the summer mosquitoes. 

The Indians of Oxford Lake were among the finest in all the great North-West. It was ever a joy to meet them as I used to do once in summer bycanoe trip, and then again in winter by dog-train. God blessed myvisits to them. The old members were cheered and comforted as theGospel was preached to them, and the Sacraments administered. Somepagans were induced to renounce their old lives, and the cause ofreligion was more and more established. The Reverend Mr Brooking, and, later, the studious and devoted Reverend Orrin German, did blessedservice in that lonely Mission. At the present time the Reverend EdwardPapanekis is the acceptable Missionary there. 

Long years ago I found Edward a careless, sinful young man. Once herushed into the Mission house under the influence of liquor, andthreatened to strike me. But the blessed truth reached his heart, andit was my joy to see him a humble suppliant at the Cross. His heart'sdesire was realised. God has blessedly led him on, and now he isfaithfully preaching that same blessed Gospel to his countrymen atOxford Mission. 

In responding to the many Macedonian cries my Circuit kept so enlargingthat I had to be "in journeyings often. " My canoes were sometimeslaunched in spring, ere the great floating ice-fields had disappeared, and through tortuous open channels we carefully paddled our way, oftenexposed to great danger. 

On one of these early trips we came to a place where for many miles themoving ice fields stretched out before us. One narrow channel of openwater only was before us. Anxious to get on, we dashed into it, andrapidly paddled ourselves along. I had two experienced Indians, and sohad no fear, but expected some novel adventures--and had them withinterest. 

Our hopes were that the wind would widen the channel, and thus let usinto open water. But, to our disappointment, when we had got along amile or so in this narrow open space, we found the ice was quietly butsurely closing in upon us. As it was from four to six feet thick, andof vast extent, there was power enough in it to crush a good-sized ship;so it seemed that our frail birch-bark canoe would have but a poorchance. 

I saw there was a reasonable possibility that when the crash came wecould spring on to the floating ice. But what should we do then? wasthe question, with canoe destroyed and us on floating ice far from land. 

However, as my Indians kept perfectly cool, I said nothing, but paddledaway and watched for the development of events. Nearer and nearer camethe ice; soon our channel was not fifty feet wide. Already behind usthe floes had met, and we could hear the ice grinding and breaking asthe enormous masses met in opposite directions. Now it was only abouttwenty feet from side to side. Still the men paddled on, and I keptpaddling in unison with them. When the ice was so close that we couldeasily touch it on either side with our paddles, one of the Indiansquietly said, "Missionary, will you please give me your paddle?" Iquickly handed it to him, when he immediately thrust it with his owninto the water, holding down the ends of them so low horizontally underthe canoe that the blade end was out of water on the other side of theboat. The other Indian held his paddle in the same position, althoughfrom the other side of the canoe. Almost immediately after the icecrowded in upon us. But as the points of the paddles were higher thanthe ice, of course they rested upon it for an instant. This was what mycool-headed, clever men wanted. They had a fulcrum for their paddles, and so they pulled carefully on the handle ends of them, and, the canoesliding up as the ice closed in and met with a crash under us, we foundourselves seated in it on the top of the ice. The craft, although onlya frail birch-bark canoe, was not in the least injured. 

As we quickly sprang out of our canoe, and carried it away from wherethe ice had met and was being ground into pieces by the momentum withwhich it met, I could not but express my admiration to my men at theclever feat. 

After some exciting work we reached the shore, and there patientlywaited until the wind and sun cleared away the ice, and we could ventureon. My plan was to spend at least a week in each Indian village orencampment, preaching three times a day, and either holding school withthe children, or by personal entreaty beseeching men and women to bereconciled to God. When returning from the visit, which was a verysuccessful one, we had to experience some of the inconveniences oftravelling in such a frail bark as a birch canoe on such a stormy lakeas Winnipeg. 

The weather had been very unsettled, and so we had cautiously paddledfrom point to point. We had dinner at what the Indians call MontrealPoint, and then started for the long crossing to Old Norway House Point, as it was then called. It is a very long open traverse, and as loweringclouds threatened us we pulled on as rapidly as our three paddles couldpropel us. When out a few miles from land the storm broke upon us, thewind rose rapidly, and soon we were riding over great white-crestedbillows. My men were very skilful, and we had no fear; but the mostskilful management was necessary to safely ride the waves, which soon insize were rivalling those of the ocean. A canoe is a peculiar craft, and requires an experienced hand in these great storms. 

We were getting on all right, and were successfully climbing the bigwaves in quick succession, alert and watchful that no sudden erraticmove should catch us off our guard and overturn us. At length we met awave of unusual height, and succeeded in climbing up into its foamingcrest all right. Then down its side our little craft shot with theapparent velocity of a sled down a toboggan slide. When we reached thebottom of this trough of the sea, our canoe slapped so violently uponthe water that the birch bark on the bottom split from side to side. Ofcourse the water rushed in upon us with uncomfortable rapidity. Themore we paddled the worse the water entered, as the exertion strainedthe boat and opened the rent. Quickly folding up a blanket, I carefullyplaced it over the long rent, and kneeled down upon it to keep it inplace. The man in the front of the canoe put down his paddle, and, taking up the kettle, baled as rapidly as he could, while the Indian inthe stern, and myself in the middle, plied our paddles for dear life. We turned towards the Spider Islands, which were over a mile away, andby vigorous work succeeded in reaching one of them, although our canoewas half full of water. Then could we enter into David's words, as forlife we struggled, and our little craft was tossed on the cross sea inour efforts to reach a place of safety: "They reel to and fro, andstagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end. Then they cryunto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them out of theirdistresses. "

We paddled up as far as we could on a smooth granite rock that came outgradually in the water. Then out we sprang, and strong hands draggedour little canoe up beyond the reach of the waves. We hastily pulledout our dripping blankets and soaked food and other things, and then, overturning the canoe, emptied it of water; and as we saw the largebreak in the bottom, we realised as we had not before the danger we hadbeen in, and the providential escape which had been ours. So, with gladhearts, we said, "We do `praise the Lord for His goodness, and for Hiswonderful works to the children of men. '"

We quickly built a fire, and melted some pitch, a quantity of which isalways carried ready for such emergencies. The long rent was coveredover with a piece of cloth well saturated in the boiling pitch, aquantity more was poured over, and the whole was carefully smoothed outover the weak place. Soon it cooled and hardened, and the work wasdone. We ate a little food, and then launched our frail craft andpushed on. No serious accidents again troubled us, and we ended thislong canoe trip, as we had done many others, thankful that we had suchblessed opportunities to go to the remote places as heralds of theCross, and doubly thankful when we were safe at home again. 

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On one of my canoe trips, when looking after pagan bands in the remoteNelson River District, I had some singular experiences, and learned someimportant lessons about the craving of the pagan heart after God. 

We had been journeying on for ten or twelve days when one night wecamped on the shore of a lake-like river. While my men were busilyemployed in gathering wood and cooking the supper, I wandered off andascended to the top of a well wooded hill which I saw in the distance. Very great indeed was my surprise, when I reached the top, to findmyself in the presence of the most startling evidences of a degradedpaganism. 

The hill had once been densely covered with trees, but about every thirdone had been cut down, and the stumps, which had been left from four toten feet high, had been carved into rude representations of the humanform. Scattered around were the dog-ovens, which were nothing but holesdug in the ground and lined with stones, in which at certain seasons, aspart of their religious ceremonies, some of their favourite dogs--whiteones were always preferred--were roasted, and then devoured by theexcited crowd. Here and there were the tents of the old conjurers andmedicine men, who, combining some knowledge of disease and medicine witha great deal of superstitious abominations, held despotic sway over thepeople. The power of these old conjurers over the deluded Indians wasvery great. They were generally lazy old fellows, but succeedednevertheless in getting the best that was going, as they held otherIndians in such terror of their power, that gifts in the shape of fishand game were constantly flowing in upon them. They have the secret artamong themselves of concocting some poisons so deadly that a little putin the food of a person who has excited their displeasure will causedeath almost as soon as a dose of strychnine. They have other poisonswhich, while not immediately causing death to the unfortunate victims, yet so affect and disfigure them that, until death releases them, theirsufferings are intense and their appearance frightful. 

Here on this hill top were all these sad evidences of the degradedcondition of the people. I wandered around and examined the idols, mostof which had in front of them, and in some instances on their flatheads, offerings of tobacco, food, red cotton, and other things. Myheart was sad at these evidences of such degrading idolatry, and I wasdeeply impressed with my need of wisdom and aid from on high, so thatwhen I met the people who here worshipped these idols I might so preachChrist and Him crucified that they would be constrained to accept Him astheir all-sufficient Saviour. 

While there I lingered, and mused, and prayed, the shadows of the nightfell on me, and I was shrouded in gloom. Then the full moon rose up inthe East, and as her silvery beams shone through the trees and lit upthese grotesque idols, the scene presented a strange weird appearance. My faithful Indians, becoming alarmed at my long absence--for thecountry was infested by wild animals--were on the search for me, when Ireturned to the camp fire. We ate our evening meal, sang a hymn, andbowed in prayer. Then we wrapped ourselves up in our blankets, and laydown on the granite rocks to rest. Although our bed was hard and therewas no roof above us, we slept sweetly, for the day had been one of hardwork and strange adventure. 

After paddling about forty miles the next day we reached the Indians ofthat section of the country, and remained several weeks among them. With the exception of the old conjurers, they all received me verycordially. These old conjurers had the same feelings toward me as thosewho made silver shrines for Diana of Ephesus had toward the firstpreachers of Christianity in their city. They trembled for theiroccupation. They well knew that if I succeeded in inducing the peopleto become Christians their occupation would be gone, and they would haveto settle down to work for their own living, like other people, orstarve. I visited them as I did the rest of the encampment, but theyhad enmity in their hearts toward me. Of all their efforts to injure ordestroy me of course I knew not. That their threats were many I wellunderstood; but He Who had said, "Lo, I am with you alway, " mercifullywatched over me and shielded me from their evil deeds. My two Indianattendants also watched as well as prayed, with a vigilance that seemeduntiring. Very pleasant, indeed, are my memories of my faithful Indiancomrades on those long journeys. Their loyalty and devotion could notbe excelled. Everything that they could do for my safety and happinesswas cheerfully done. 

We held three religious services every day, and between these servicestaught the people to read in the Syllabic characters. One day, inconversing with an old fine-looking Indian, I said to him, "What is yourreligion? If you have any clear idea of a religion, tell me in what youbelieve. "

His answer was; "We believe in a good Spirit and in a bad spirit. "

"Why, then, " I said, "do you not worship the good Spirit? I camethrough your sacred grounds, and I saw where you had cut down sometrees. Part you had used as fuel with which to cook your bear or deermeat; out of the rest you had made an idol, which you worship. How isone part more sacred than the other? Why do you make and worshipidols?"

I can never forget his answer, or the impressive and almost passionateway in which the old man replied:--

"Missionary, the Indian's mind is dark, and he cannot grasp the unseen. He hears the great Spirit's voice in the thunder and storms. He seesthe evidences of His existence all around, but neither he nor hisfathers have ever seen the great Spirit, or any one who has; and so hedoes not know what He looks like. But man is the highest creature thathe knows of, and so he makes his idols like a man, and calls it his`Manito. ' We only worship them because we do not know what the greatSpirit looks like, but these we can understand. "

Suddenly there flashed into my mind the request of Philip to the LordJesus: "Show us the Father, and it sufficeth us;" and the wonderfulanswer: "Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not knownMe, Philip? He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father; and how sayestthou then, Show us the Father?"

I opened my Indian Bible at that wonderful chapter of disinterestedlove, the fourteenth of John, and preached unto them Jesus, in His twonatures, Divine and human. While emphasising the redemptive work of theSon of God, I referred to His various offices and purposes of love andcompassion, His willingness to meet us and to save us from perplexityand doubt, as well as from sin. I spoke about Him as our elder Brother, so intimately allied to us, and still retaining His human form as Hepleads for us at the throne of God. I dwelt upon these delightfultruths, and showed how Christ's love had so brought him to us, that withthe eye of faith we could see Him, and in Him all of God for which ourhearts craved. "Whom having not seen, we love; in Whom, though now wesee Him not, yet believing, we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full ofglory. "

For many days I needed no other themes. They listened attentively, andthe holy Spirit applied these truths to their hearts and consciences soeffectively that they gladly received them. A few more visitseffectually settled them in the truth. They have cut down their idols, filled up the dog-ovens, torn away the conjurers' tents, cleared theforest, and banished every vestige of the old life. And there, at whatis called "the Meeting of the Three Rivers, " on that very spot whereidols were worshipped amidst horrid orgies, and where the yells, rattles, and drums of the old conjurers and medicine men were heardcontinuously for days and nights, there is now a little church, wherethese same Indians, transformed by the glorious Gospel of the Son ofGod, are "clothed and in their right mind, sitting at the feet ofJesus. "

My visits to Nelson River so impressed me with the fact of the necessityof some zealous missionary going down there and living among the people, that, in response to appeals made, the Reverend John Semmens, whoseheart God had filled with missionary zeal, and who had come out toassist me at Norway House, nobly resolved to undertake the work. He wasadmirably fitted for the arduous and responsible task. But no languageof mine can describe what he had to suffer. His record is on high. TheMaster has it all, and He will reward. Great were his successes, andsignal his triumphs. 

At that place, where I found the stumps carved into idols, which BrotherSemmens has so graphically described, the church, mainly through hisinstrumentality and personal efforts, has been erected. In the lastletter which I have received from that land, the writer says: "TheIndians now all profess themselves to be Christians. Scores of them bytheir lives and testimonies assure us of the blessed consciousness thatthe Lord Jesus is indeed their own loving Saviour. Every conjuring drumhas ceased. All vestiges of the old heathenish life are gone, webelieve for ever. "

"The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them, and thedesert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. "

Grandly has this prophecy been fulfilled, and dwarfs into insignificanceall the sufferings and hardships endured in the pioneer work which I hadin beginning this Mission. With a glad heart I rejoice that "unto me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that Ishould preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ. "

CHAPTER SIX. 

THE WILD NORTH LAND--THE TWO METHODS OF TRAVEL, BY CANOE AND DOG-TRAIN--THE NATIVE DOGS--ST. BERNARD AND NEWFOUNDLAND DOGS--THE DOG SLEDS--THEGUIDE--THE DOG DRIVERS--THE LONG JOURNEYS--NIGHT TRAVELLING--WONDROUSVISIONS OF THE NIGHT. 

So destitute are these wild north lands of roads that there are reallyno distinct words in the languages of these northern tribes to representland vehicles. In translating such words as "waggon" or "chariot" intothe Cree language, a word similar to that for "dog-sled" had to be used. 

No surveyor, up to the years about which I am writing, had visited thoseregions, and there were literally no roads as understood in civilisedlands. 

So numerous are the lakes and rivers that roads are unnecessary to theIndian in the summer time. With his light birch canoe he can go almosteverywhere he desires. If obstructions block up his passage, all he hasto do is to put his little canoe on his head, and a short run will takehim across the portage, or around the cataracts or falls, or over theheight of land to some other lake or stream, where he quickly embarksand continues his journey. 

All summer travelling is done along the water routes. Naturally thevarious trading posts and Indian villages or encampments are located onthe edges of the lakes or rivers, or very near them, so as to be mostconveniently reached in this way. So short are the summers that thereare only about five months of open water to be depended upon in thesehigh latitudes. During the other seven months the dog sled is the onlyconveyance for purposes of travelling. So rough and wild is the countrythat we know of no vehicle that could take its place, and no animalsthat could do the work of the dogs. 

As the years of toil rolled on, my Mission field or Circuit so enlargedthat it extended irregularly north and south over five hundred miles, with a width in some places of over three hundred. In summer Itravelled over it in a birch canoe, and in winter with my dog-trains. 

At first it seemed very novel, and almost like child's play, to bedragged along by dogs, and there was almost a feeling of rebellionagainst what seemed such frivolous work. But we soon found out that wehad travelled in worse conveyances and with poorer steeds than in a gooddog sled, when whirled along by a train of first-class dogs. 

The dogs generally used are of the Esquimaux breed, although in manyplaces they have become so mixed up with other varieties as to be almostunrecognisable. The pure Esquimaux sled dogs are well-built, compactanimals, weighing from eighty to a hundred and twenty pounds. They areof various colours, and have a close, warm, furry coat of hair. Theyhave sharp-pointed ears and very bushy, curly tails. They are the mostnotorious thieves. I never could completely break an Esquimaux dog ofthis propensity. It seemed ingrained in their very natures. I havepurchased young puppies of this breed from the natives, have fed themwell, and have faithfully endeavoured to bring them up in the way inwhich they ought to go, but I never could get them to stay there. Stealthey would, and did, whenever they had an opportunity. 

This serious defect may have been the result of the constant andunremitting neglect with which Indians generally treat their dogs. Theyare fond of them in a way, and are unwilling to part with them, exceptat a good price; yet, except when working them, they very seldom feedthem. The dogs are generally left to steal their living, and some ofthem become very clever at it, as more than once I found to my sorrow. When the fisheries are successful, or many deer have been killed, thedogs, like their owners, are fat and flourishing. When food is scarce, the dogs' allowance is the first cut off. We could always tell at aglance, when a band of wild, wandering pagan Indians came in to visitour village from their distant hunting grounds, how they had prospered. If they and their dogs were fat and good-natured, they had had abundanceof food. If, while the people looked fairly well, the dogs were thinand wolfish, we knew they had fared but moderately. If the dogs wereall gone and the people looked gaunt and famine-stricken, we knew theyhad had hard times, and, as a last resort, had eaten their poor dogs tokeep themselves alive. 

Some of the Indians who make a pretence to feed their dogs in winternever think of doing so in summer. The result is that, as they have tosteal, hunt, or starve, they become adepts in one or the other. Everything that is eatable, and many things apparently uneatable, aredevoured by them. They fairly howled with delight when they foundaccess to such things as old leather moccasins, dog harness, whips, furcaps, mitts, and similar things. They greedily devoured all they could, and then most cunningly buried the rest. Many of them go off in summer-time on long fishing excursions. I once, when away on a canoe trip, meta pack of them up a great river over a hundred miles from their home. When we first saw them at a long distance, we mistook them for wolves, and began to prepare for battle. The quick eyes of my Indian canoe mensoon saw what they were, and putting down our guns, we spent a littletime in watching them. To my great surprise I found out that they werefishing on their own account. This was something new to me, and so Iwatched them with much interest. 

On the side of the river on which they were was a shallow, reedy marsh, where the water was from a few inches to a foot in depth. In theseshallow waters, at certain seasons of the year, different varieties offish are to be found. The principal is the Jack fish, or pike, some ofwhich are over three feet long. As they crowd along in these shallows, often with their back fins out of the water, they are observed by thedogs, who quietly wade out, often to a distance of many yards, and seizethem with such a grip that, in spite of their struggles, they arecarried in triumph to the shore, and there speedily devoured. Sometimesthe dogs will remain away for weeks together on these fishingexcursions, and will return in much better condition than when theyleft. 

During the winter of the first Riel Rebellion, when all our supplies hadbeen cut off, my good wife and I got tired of dining twenty-one times aweek on fish diet, varied only by a pot of boiled musk rats, or a roasthind-quarter of a wild cat. To improve our bill of fare, the nextsummer, when I went into the Red River Settlement, I bought a sheep, which I carefully took out with me in a little open boat. I succeededin getting it safely home, and put it in a yard that had a heavystockade fence twelve feet high around it. In some way the dogs got inand devoured my sheep. 

The next summer, I took out a couple of pigs, and put them into a littlelog stable with a two-inch spruce plank door. To my great disgust, onenight the dogs ate a hole through the door and devoured my pigs. 

There seemed to be a good deal of the wolf in their nature. Many ofthem never manifested much affection for their masters, and never couldbe fully depended upon. Still I always found that even with Esquimauxdogs patience and kindness went farther than anything else in teachingthem to know what was required of them, and in inducing them to acceptthe situation. Some of them are naturally lazy, and some of them areincorrigible shirks; and so there is in dog-driving a capitalopportunity for the exercise of the cardinal virtue of patience. 

As my Mission increased in size, and new appointments were taken up, Ifound I should have to be on the move nearly all the winter if those wholonged for the Word of Life were to be visited. Do the best I could, there were some bands so remote that I could only visit them twice ayear. In summer I went by canoe, and in winter by dog-train. After afew wretched experiences with native dogs, where I suffered mostintensely, as much on account of their inferior powers as anything else, I began to think of the many splendid St. Bernard and Newfoundland dogsI had seen in civilised lands, doing nothing in return for the care andaffection lavished upon them. These thoughts, which came to me whilefar from home, were promptly followed by action as soon as that terribletrip was ended, in which every part of my face exposed to the intensecold had been frozen, even to my eyebrows and lips. 

Missionary Secretaries were amused at the requisition for dogs, and hadtheir laugh at what they called "my unique request, " and wrote me tothat effect. Thanks, however, to the kindness of such men as theHonourable Mr Sanford, of Hamilton, the Honourable Mr Ferrier, ofMontreal, and other friends, I had in my possession some splendid dogsbefore the next season opened, and then the work went on with increasinginterest and satisfaction. With splendid, well-trained dogs, I could soshorten the time of the three hundred miles' trip, that, instead ofshivering seven or eight nights in a hole dug in the snow, we couldreduce the number to four or five. 

Those who have experienced the sufferings and hardships of camping outin the forest with the temperature ranging from thirty to sixty degreesbelow zero, will agree that to escape two or three nights of it meant agood deal. 

I found by years of experience that the St. Bernard and Newfoundlanddogs had all the good qualities, and none of the defects, of theEsquimaux. By kindness and firmness they were easily broken in, andthen a whip was only an ornamental appendage of the driver's picturesquecostume. Of these splendid dogs I often had in my possession, countingold and young, as many as twenty at a time. The largest and best ofthem all was Jack, a noble St. Bernard. He was black as jet, and stoodover thirty-three inches high at his fore shoulder. When in goodworking trim, he weighed about a hundred and sixty pounds. He had noequal in all that northern land. Several times he saved my life, as weshall see further on. No whip ever ruffled his glossy coat; no dangerever deterred him from his work, when he with his marvellousintelligence once got to know what was expected of him. No blizzardstorm, no matter how fickle and changeful, could lead him off from thedesired camping place, even if the courage of other dogs failed them, and even though the guides gave up in despair. 

The distance we could travel with dogs depended of course very much onthe character of the trail or route. On the frozen surface of LakeWinnipeg, when no blinding gales opposed us, and our dogs were good andloads not too heavy, we have made from seventy to ninety miles a day. One winter I accomplished the journey from Fort Garry to Norway House infive days and a half--a distance of nearly four hundred miles. When wewere toiling along in the dense forests, where the snow lay deep and theobstructions were many, and the country was broken with hills andravines, we often did not make more than a third of that distance, andthen suffered much more than when we had made much greater journeysunder more favourable auspices. 

The dog sleds are made of two oak or birch boards, about twelve feetlong, eight or nine inches wide, and from half an inch to an inch thick. These two boards are fastened securely together, edge to edge, bycrossbars. Then one of the ends is planed down thin, and so thoroughlysteamed or soaked in hot water that it can easily be bent or curved upto form what is called the head of the sled. It is then planed smooth, and fitted out with side loops. The front ones are those to which thetraces of the dogs are attached, and the others along the sides are usedto fasten the load securely. When finished, allowing two or three feetfor the curled-up head, a good dog sled is nine or ten feet long, andfrom sixteen to eighteen inches wide. 

Sometimes they are fitted with parchment sides and a comfortable back. Then they are called carioles. When the dogs were strong enough, or thetrail was a well beaten one, or we were travelling on the great frozenlakes, I was able to ride the greater part of the time. Then it was notunpleasant or toilsome work. But as many of my winter trails led methrough the primeval forests, where the snow was often very deep, andthe hills were steep, and the fallen trees many, and the standing onesthickly clustered together, on such journeys there was but littleriding. One had to strap on his snow shoes, and help his faithfulIndians to tramp down the deep snow in the trail, that the poor dogsmight drag the heavily loaded sleds along. 

Four dogs constitute a train. They are harnessed in tandem style, asall this vast country north of the fertile prairies is a region offorests. The Esquimaux style of giving each dog a separate trace, thusletting them spread out in a fan-like form, would never do in this landof trees and dense under-bush. 

The harness, which is made of moose skin, is often decorated withribbons and little musical bells. Singular as it may appear, the dogswere very fond of the bells, and always seemed to travel better and bein greater spirits when they could dash along in unison with theirtinkling. Some dogs could not be more severely punished than by takingthe bells off their harness. 

The head dog of the train is called "the leader. " Upon him depends agreat deal of the comfort and success, and at times the safety, of thewhole party. A really good leader is a very valuable animal. Some ofthem are so intelligent that they do not require a guide to run ahead ofthem, except in the most dense and unbeaten forest trails. I had along-legged white dog, of mixed breed, that ever seemed to consider aguide a nuisance, when once he had got into his big head an idea of whatI wanted him to do. Outside of his harness Old Voyager, as we calledhim, was a morose, sullen, unsociable brute. So hard to approach was hethat generally a rope about sixty feet long, with one end fastenedaround his neck, trailed out behind him. When we wanted to catch him, we generally had to start off in the opposite direction from him, for hewas as cunning as a fox, and ever objected to being caught. In zigzagways we moved about until he was thrown off his guard, and then by-and-by it was possible to come near enough to get hold of the long rope andhaul him in. When once the collar was on his neck, and he had taken hisplace at the head of the party, he was the unrivalled leader. No matterhow many trains might happen to be travelling together, no one thoughtof taking first place while Old Voyager was at hand. 

Lake Winnipeg is very much indented with deep, wide bays. The headlandsare from five to thirty miles apart. When dog-travelling on that greatlake in winter, the general plan is to travel from headland to headland. When leaving one where perhaps we had slept or dined, all we had to dowas to turn Old Voyager's head in the right direction, and show him thedistant point to which we wished to go; and although it might be manymiles away, a surveyor's line could not be much straighter than thetrail our sleds would make under his unerring guidance. 

I have gone into these details about this mode of travelling, becausethere is so little known about it in the outside world. Doubtless itwill soon become a thing of the past, as the Indians are settling downin their Reservations, and, each tribe or band having a residentMissionary, these long, toilsome journeys will not be essential. 

The companions of my long trips were the far-famed Indian runners of thenorth. The principal one of our party was called "the guide. " To himwas committed the responsibility of leading us by the quickest andsafest route to the band of Indians we wished to visit with the goodnews of a Saviour's love. His place was in front of the dogs, unlessthe way happened to lead us for a time over frozen lakes or well-beatentrails, where the dogs were able to go on alone, cheered by the voice oftheir drivers behind. When the trail was of this description, the guidegenerally strode along in company with one of the drivers. 

As the greater part of my work was in the wild forest regions, therewere many trips when the guide was always at the front. Marvellouslygifted were some of these men. The reader must bear in mind the factthat there were no roads or vestiges of a path. Often the wholedistance we wished to go was through the dense unbroken forest. Thesnow, some winters, was from two to four feet deep. Often the treeswere clustered so closely together that it was at times difficult tofind them standing far enough apart to get our sleds, narrow as theywere, between them. In many places the under-brush was so dense that itwas laborious work to force our way through it. Yet the guide on hislarge snowshoes was expected to push on through all obstructions, andopen the way where it was possible for the dog-sleds to follow. Hischief work was to mark out the trail, along which the rest of ustravelled as rapidly as our loaded sleds, or wearied limbs, and oftenbleeding feet, would allow. 

Wonderfully clever and active were these guides in this difficult andtrying work. To them it made but little difference whether the sunshone brightly, or clouds obscured the sky. On and on they pushedwithout hesitancy or delay. There were times when the sun's rays werereflected with such splendour from the snowy wastes, that our eyesbecame so affected by the glare, that it was impossible to travel bysunlight. The black eyes of the Indians seemed very susceptible to thisdisease, which they call "snow blindness. " It is very painful, as Iknow by sad experience. The sensation is like that of having red-hotsand thrown on the eyeballs. Often my faithful dog-drivers used tosuffer so from it that, stoical as they naturally are, I have known themto groan and almost cry out like children in the camp. 

Once, in travelling near Oxford Lake, we came across a couple of Indianswho were stone-blind from this disease. Fortunately they had been ableto reach the woods and make a camp and get some food ready ere totalblindness came upon them. We went out of our course to guide them totheir friends. 

To guard against the attack of this disease, which seldom occurs exceptin the months of March and April, when the increasing brightness of thesun, in those lengthening days, makes its rays so powerful, we oftentravelled only during the night-time, and rested in the sheltered campsduring the hours of sunshine. On some of our long trips we havetravelled eight nights continuously in this way. We generally left ourcamp about sundown. At midnight we groped about as well as we could, aided by the light of the stars or the brilliant auroras, and found somedry wood and birch bark, with which we made a fire and cooked a midnightdinner. Then on we went until the morning light came. Then a regularcamp was prepared, and breakfast cooked and eaten, and the dogs werefed, instead of at night. Prayers said, and ourselves wrapped up in ourblankets and robes, we slept until the hours of brilliant sunshine wereover, when on we went. 

It always seemed to me that the work of the guides would be much moredifficult at night than during the daytime. They, however, did notthink so. With unerring accuracy they pushed on. It made no matter tothem whether the stars shone out in all the beauty and brilliancy of theArctic sky, or whether clouds arose and obscured them all. On the guidepushed through tangled underwood or dense gloomy forest, where therewere not to be seen, for days, or rather nights, together, any othertracks than those made by the wild beasts of the forest. 

Sometimes the wondrous auroras blazed out, flashing and scintillatingwith a splendour indescribable. At times the whole heavens seemed aglowwith their fickle, inconstant beauty, and then various portions of thesky were illumined in succession by their ever-changing bars, or columnsof coloured light. Man's mightiest pyrotechnic displays dwarfed intoinsignificance in the presence of these celestial visions. For hours ata time have I been entranced amidst their glories. So bewildering werethey at times to me that I have lost all ideas of location, and knew notwhich was north or south. 

But to the experienced guide, although, like many of the Indians, he hada keen appreciation of the beauties of nature, so intent was he on hisduties that these changing auroras made no difference, and caused him nobewilderment in his work. This, to me, was often a matter of surprise. They are very susceptible in their natures, and their souls are full ofpoetry, as many of their expressive and beautiful names indicate. Tothem, in their pagan state, those scintillating bars of coloured lightwere the spirits of their forefathers, rank after rank, rushing out tobattle. Yet, while on our long trips I have had Indians as guides whobecame intensely interested in these wondrous visions of the night, Inever knew them to lose the trail or become confused as to the properroute. 

Very pleasant are my memories of different guides and dog-drivers. Withvery few exceptions they served me loyally and well. Most of them weredevoted Christian men. With me they rejoiced to go on these longjourneys to their countrymen who were still groping in the darkness, butmost of them longing for the light. Many of them were capable of givingexhortations or addresses; and if not able to do this, they could, Paul-like, tell the story of their conversion, and how they had found theSaviour. 

My heart warms to those faithful men, my companions in many a storm, mybed-fellows in many a cold wintry camp. Memory brings up many incidentswhere they risked their lives for me, and where, when food was aboutexhausted, and the possibilities of obtaining additional supplies fordays were very poor, they quietly and unostentatiously put themselves onquarter rations, for days together, that their beloved missionary mightnot starve. 

Some of them have finished their course. Up the shining trail, following the unerring Guide, they have gone beyond the auroras andbeyond the stars right to the throne of God. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

ON THE TRAIL WITH THE DOGS, TO FIELDS RIPE FOR THE REAPER--THE PLACE--THE TRIP--THE WINTER CAMP--THE BITTER COLD--ENDURING HARDNESS--DEATHSHAKING HANDS WITH US--MANY DAYS ON THE TRAIL. 

In January, 1869, I started on my first winter trip to Nelson River, tovisit a band of Indians there, who had never yet seen a missionary orheard the glad tidings of salvation. Their principal gatherings were atthe little trading post on the Burntwood River. Their hunting groundsextended so very far north that they bordered on those of the Esquimaux, with whom, however, the Indians have no dealings. Between these tworaces, the Indian and the Esquimaux, there is no affinity whatever. They differ very materially in appearance, language, customs, andbeliefs. Though they will seldom engage in open hostilities, yet theyare very rarely at peace with each other, and generally strive to keepas far apart as possible. 

The weather was bitterly cold, as the temperature ranged from thirty-five to fifty-five below zero. Our course was due north all the way. The road we made, for there was none ahead of the snow-shoe tracks ofour guide, was a rugged, unbroken forest path. As the country throughwhich we passed is rich in fur-bearing animals, we saw many evidences oftheir presence, and occasionally crossed a hunter's trail. We passedover twenty little lakes, averaging from one to thirty miles indiameter. Over these our dogs drew us very fast, and we could indulgein the luxury of a ride; but in the portages and wood-roads our progresswas very slow, and generally all of us, with our snow-shoes on, and attimes with axes in hand, had to tramp on ahead and pack the deep snowdown, and occasionally cut out an obstructing log, that our dogs mightbe able to drag our heavily laden sleds along. Sometimes the trees wereso thickly clustered together that it was almost impossible to get oursleds through them. At times we were testing our agility by climbingover fallen trees, and then on our hands and knees had to crawl underreclining ones. Our faces were often bleeding, and our feet bruised. There were times when the strap of my snowshoes so frayed and laceratedmy feet that the blood soaked through the moccasins and webbing of thesnowshoes, and occasionally the trail was marked with blood. We alwaystravelled in Indian file. At the head ran or walked the guide, as theroads would permit. On these trips, when I got to understand dog-driving, I generally followed next; and behind me were three other dog-trains, each with an Indian driver. 

Sometimes the snow was so deep that the four dog-drivers went ahead ofthe dogs, immediately behind the guide, and, keeping in line with him, industriously packed down the snow, that the dogs might the more easilydrag the heavy sleds along. The reason why our loads were so heavy wasthis. We were not in a country where, when night overtook us, we couldfind some hospitable home to welcome us. Neither were we where therewere hotels or houses in which for money we could secure lodgings. Wewere in one of the most desolate and thinly inhabited parts of theworld, where those who travel long distances see no human beings, exceptthe Indian hunters, and these but rarely. Hence, in spite of all ourefforts to make our loads as light as possible, they would be heavy, although we were only carrying what was considered absolutely essential. We had to take our provisions, fish for our dogs, kettles, tin dishes, axes, bedding, guns, extra clothing, and various other things, to meetemergencies that might arise. 

The heaviest item on our sleds was the fish for the dogs. Each dog wasfed once a day, and then received two good white fishes, each weighingfrom four to six pounds. So that if the daily allowance for each dogaveraged five pounds, the fish alone on each sled would weigh onehundred and twenty pounds, when we began a trip of a week's duration. Then the bitter cold and the vigorous exercise gave both the drivers andthe missionary good appetites, and so the food provided for them was ofno insignificant weight. 

We generally stopped about half an hour before sundown in order to havetime, ere darkness enshrouded us, to prepare our camp. As we journeyedon we had observed that the guide who had been running along in fronthad been, for the last half hour or so, carefully scanning the forest tothe right and left. At length he stopped, and as we came up to him wesaid, "Well, Tom, what is the matter?"

His answer is, "Here is a capital place for our camp. "

"Why do you think so?" we ask. 

He replies, "Do you see those balsams? They will furnish us with a bed, and this cluster of dry, dead small trees will give us the wood we needfor our fire. " So we quickly set to work to prepare for our all-nightstay in the woods. 

The dogs were soon unharnessed, and seemed thankful to get their headsout of their collars. They were never tied up, neither did they everdesert us, or take the back track for home. Some of the younger onesoften organised a rabbit hunt on their own responsibility, and had somesport. The older and wiser ones looked around for the most cosy andsheltered spots, and there began to prepare their resting-places for thenight. They would carefully scrape away the snow until they came to theground, and there, with teeth and paws, would make the spot as smoothand even as possible. They would then curl themselves up, and patientlywait until they were called to supper. After unharnessing our dogs, ournext work was with our axes, and there was a good sharp one for theMissionary, to cut down some of the green balsams and dry dead trees. Then using our snowshoes as shovels, from the place selected for ourcamp we soon scraped away the snow, piling it up as well as we could tothe right, left, and in rear of where we were to sleep. On the groundthus cleared of snow we spread out a layer of the balsam boughs, and infront, where the wind would blow the smoke from us, we made up a largefire with the small dry trees which we had cut down. 

On this blazing log fire we put our two kettles, which we had filledwith snow. When it melted down, we refilled the kettles, until enoughwater was secured. In the large kettle we boiled a piece of fat meat, of goodly size, and in the other we made our tea. 

On my first trip I carried with me a tin basin, a towel, and a cake ofsoap. At our first camp-fire, when the snow had been melted in ourkettle, I asked the guide to give me a little of the water in my basin. Suspecting the purpose for which I wanted it, he said, "What are yougoing to do with it?"

"Wash my face and hands, " I replied. 

Very earnestly he answered, "Please, Missionary, do not do so. "

I was longing for a good wash, for I felt like a chimney-sweep. We hadbeen travelling for hours through a region of country where, in theprevious summer, great forest fires had raged, leaving many of thetrunks of the trees charred and black. Against some of them we hadoften rubbed, and to some of them, or their branches, we had had tocling as we went dashing down some of the ravines. The result of theseweary hours of toil amidst charred trunks was very visible, and Irejoiced that an opportunity had arrived when I could wash off the sootystuff. Great indeed was my surprise to hear this strong protest on thepart of my guide against my doing anything of the kind. 

"Why should I not wash?" I said, holding up my blackened hands. 

"You must not let water touch you out in the open air, when it is sovery cold as it is to-day, " was his answer. 

I was very inexperienced then, and not willing to lose my wash, which Iso much needed, I did not heed the warning. Having a blazing firebefore me and a good dry towel, I ventured to take the wash, and for aminute or two after felt much better. Soon, however, there were strangeprickling sensations on the tops of my hands, and then they began tochap and bleed, and they became very sore, and did not get well forweeks. The one experiment of washing in the open air with thetemperature in the fifties below zero was quite enough. In thefollowing years I left the soap at home and only carried the towel. When very much in need of a wash, I had to be content with a dry rubwith the towel. Mrs Young used to say, when I returned from some ofthese trips, that I looked like old mahogany. The bath was thenconsidered a much-needed luxury. 

For our food, when travelling in such cold weather, we preferred thefattest meat we could obtain. From personal experience I can endorsethe statements of Arctic explorers about the value of fat or oil andblubber as articles of food, and the natural craving of the system forthem. Nothing else seemed to supply the same amount of internal heat. As the result of experience, we carried the fattest kind of meat. 

As soon as the snow was melted down in the larger of our kettles, meatsufficient for our party was soon put on and boiled. While it wascooking, we thawed out the frozen fish for our dogs. Such is the effectof the frost that they were as hard as stone, and it would have beencruel to have given them in that state to the noble animals that servedus so well. Our plan was to put down a small log in front of the fire, so close to it that when the fish were placed against it, the intensityof the heat would soon thaw them out. The hungry dogs were ever sharpenough to know when their supper was being prepared; and as it was theonly meal of the day for them, they crowded around us and were impatientat times, and had to be restrained. 

Sometimes, in their eagerness and anxiety for their food--for it oftenrequired a long time for the fire to thaw the fishes sufficiently for usto bend them--the dogs in crowding one before the other would get into afight, and then there would be trouble. Two dogs of the same train veryseldom fought with each other. Yoke-fellows in toil, they were too wiseto try to injure each other in needless conflict. So, when a battlebegan, the dogs quickly ranged themselves on the sides of their owncomrades, and soon it was a conflict of train against train. At first Ithought it cruel not to feed them more frequently, but I found, as allexperienced dog-drivers had told me, that one good meal a day was thebest for them. So great were my sympathies for them that sometimes Iwould give them a good breakfast in the morning; but it did not turn outto be of any real benefit. The additional meal made them sluggish andshort-winded, and they did not seem to thrive so well. Good white fishwas the best food we could give them, and on this diet they could thriveand work as on no other. 

A goodly number of _dog-shoes_ were very necessary on these wild, roughtrips. Dogs' feet are tender, and are liable to injury from variouscauses. On the smooth glare ice the pads of the feet would sometimeswear so thin that they bled a good deal. Then on the rough roads therewas always the danger of their breaking off a claw or running a sliverthrough the webbing between the toes. Many of the wise old dogs thathad become accustomed to these shoes, and thus knew their value, wouldsuddenly stop the whole train, and by holding up an injured foot veryeloquently, if mutely, tell the reason why they had done so. 

The dog-shoes are like heavy woollen mits without the thumbs, made indifferent sizes. When a foot is injured, the mit is drawn on andsecurely tied with a piece of soft deer-skin. Then the grateful dog, which perhaps had refused to move before, springs to his work, oftengiving out his joyous barks of gratitude. So fond do some of the dogsbecome of these warm woollen shoes that instances are known where theyhave come into the camp from their cold resting-places in the snow, andwould not be content until the men got up and put shoes on all of theirfeet. Then, with every demonstration of gratitude, they have gone backto their holes in the snow. 

Our dogs having been fed, we next make our simple arrangements for ourown supper. 

A number of balsam boughs are spread over the spot near the fires, fromwhich the snow has been scraped away by our snowshoes. On these is laidour table-cloth, which was generally an empty flour bag, cut down theside. Our dishes, all of tin, are placed in order, and around we gatherwith vigorous appetites. It is fortunate that they are so good, asotherwise our homely fare would not be much prized. The large piece offat meat is served up in a tin pan, and our pint cups are filled up withhot tea. If we are fortunate enough to have some bread, which was farfrom being always the case, we thaw it out and eat it with our meat. Vegetables were unknown on these trips. Our great staple was fat meat, and the fatter the better; morning, noon, and night, and often betweentimes did we stop and eat fat meat. If we did vary the _menu_, it wouldbe by making a raid on the dogs' supply, and in the evening camp cookingourselves a good kettle of fish. 

As we dared not wash our hands or faces, of course such a thing aswashing dishes was unknown. When supper was in progress, Jack Frostmade us busy in keeping ourselves and provisions warm. I have seen thelarge piece of meat put back into the pot three times during the onemeal, to warm it up. I have seen the ice gather on the top of the cupof tea that a few minutes before was boiling vigorously in the kettle. 

After supper wood was cut, to be in readiness for the morning's fire;and every break in clothes or harness was repaired, that there might beno delay in making a good start. Then the guide, who always had chargeof all these things, when satisfied that all was arranged, would say, "Missionary, we are ready for prayers. " The Bible and Hymn-book werebrought out, and the Indians gathered round me, and there together weoffered up our evening devotions. Would that our readers could haveseen us! The background is of dense balsam trees, whose great droopingbranches, partially covered with snow, sweep the ground. Above us arethe bright stars, and, it may be, the flashing auroras. In front of usis the blazing fire, and scattered around us, in picturesque confusion, are our dog-sleds, snow-shoes, harness, and the other essentials of ouroutfit. A few of the dogs generally insisted on remaining up untiltheir masters had retired, and they were now to be seen in variouspostures around us. With uncovered heads, no matter how intense thecold, my Christian Indians listened reverently, while in their ownlanguage I read from the precious volume which they have learned to loveso well. Then together we sang a hymn. Frequently it would be theEvening Hymn, the first verse of which in their beautiful Cree languageis as follows:--

 "Ne mahmechemon ne muntome Kahke wastanahmahweyan, Kah nah way yemin Kechabyah Ah kwah-nahtahtah-kwahnaoon. "

After singing we bow in prayer. There is there, as there should beeverywhere, a consciousness of our dependence upon the great Helper forprotection and support, and so the prayer we sang:--

 "Keep me, O keep me, King of Kings, Beneath Thine own Almighty wings. "

is indeed our heart's desire. 

Sometimes we are a hundred and fifty miles from the nearest humanhabitation. We are camping out in the woods in a hole dug in the snow. We have no walls around us but the snow thrown out of the place in whichwe are huddled, with perhaps the addition of some balsam boughs. Wehave no roof above us but the stars. There in that place we are goingto lie down and try to sleep during that bitter cold night. The lightfire will soon go out. A foot of snow may fall upon us, and its comingwill be welcomed, as its warmth will lessen our shivering. Prowlinggrey wolves may come near us, but the terrible Frost King is more to befeared than they. 

Does anybody, who knows the efficacy of prayer, wonder that, as we drawnear to God, "by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, " we cravethe assurance of His favour and smile, and that He, Who never slumbersor sleeps, will be our Guardian and our Friend?

After prayers we soon _retire to rest_. The guide's familiar words soonafter prayers used to be, "Now, Missionary, I will make your bed. " Thiswas his work, and he was an adept at it. He first spread out a layer ofevergreen boughs, and then on these he laid a large buffalo robe, andupon this a heavy blanket. Then, placing my pillow so that my headwould be farthest away from the fire, he would say to me, "Now, if youwill get into bed, I will cover you up and tuck you in. "

Such a thing as disrobing out there in a wintry camp is unknown, unless, as the result of the violent exercise of running all day, a person'sunderclothing has become very damp by perspiration, and it is not safeto sleep in it in that condition. 

Some travellers sleep in a fur bag, in which they manage to insertthemselves, and then have it tightened around their necks. Then a largefur hood over the usual head-gear completes their sleeping apparel. Iused to wrap myself up in a heavy overcoat over my usual apparel, andthen putting on long buffalo-skin boots, fur mits, cap, cape, and bigmufflers, considered myself rigged up for retiring. When thus wrapped, I used to have some difficulty in getting down into the bed, although itwas only on the ground. When in position, the guide would throw over meanother heavy blanket and fur robe. Then very skilfully, and in a waymost motherly, he would begin at my feet and carefully tuck me in. Rapidly and deftly did he proceed with his work, and almost before I wasaware of what he was doing, he had reached my head, which he began tocover completely up with the heavy robe which he seemed to be crowdingdown under my back and shoulders. 

The first time he packed me in in this manner I was only able to standit for a minute or two, as I thought I should be smothered. So I verysuddenly threw up my arms and sent the whole upper covering off in ahurry. 

"Do you wish to smother me, man?" I said. "I cannot live with my headcovered up like that!"

Without any annoyance at my having so quickly undone his work, hereplied very kindly, "I know it must be hard work for you white peopleto sleep with your heads completely covered up, but you will have to doit here, or you will freeze to death. You must be very careful, forthis seems to be a very cold night indeed. " Then he called my attentionto the distant thunder-like sounds which we had been hearingoccasionally during the evening. That, he told me, was the ice, fromfour to six feet thick, on the great lake, cracking in the bitter cold. "Look at the smoke, " he added. "See how it keeps very near the ground. It does that in the bitter cold nights. "

From the trees around us we heard occasionally a sharp pistol-likereport, loud enough at times to make a nervous person fancy that lurkingenemies were firing at us. 

The observant Indians say these loud reports are burstings in the treescaused by the freezing of the sap. 

Admiring his cleverness and kindness, I told him that I had been taughtthat every person requires so many cubic feet of fresh air; and, cold orno cold, how did he think I could get my share with my head covered upas he desired? "You must do with less out here, " he said, as heproceeded to cover me up again, while I tried to arrange myself so thatI could at least have a small portion of air. Kindly and patiently hehumoured me, and then, when he had finished tucking me in, he said, "Now, Missionary, good-night; but don't stir. If you do, you maydisarrange your coverings while you sleep, and you may freeze to deathwithout waking up. "

"Don't stir!" What a command, I thought, to give a tired travellerwhose bones ache from his long snow-shoe tramping in the woods, whosenerves and muscles are unstrung, and who, like others when thusfatigued, has even found it helpful to his rest and comfort to turnoccasionally and stretch his limbs!

In this frame of mind, and under this order, which, after all, I feltmust be obeyed for fear of the dire results that might follow, I atlength managed to fall asleep, for I was very weary. After a while Iwoke up to a state of semi-consciousness, and found myself tugging andpulling at what I thought in my dreamy condition was the end of an axehandle. The vague impression on my mind was, that some careless Indianhad left his axe just behind my head, and in the night the handle hadfallen across my face, and I had now got hold of the end of it. Fortunately for me, I very quickly after this woke fully up, and thenfound out that what I had imagined to be the end of an axe handle was myown nose; and a badly frozen one it was, and both of my ears were aboutin the same condition. 

With the guide's last orders in my ears, I think I must have gone tosleep all right, but I suppose, from the unusual smothering sensation, unconsciously I must have pushed down the robes from my face, anduncovered my head and my hand, and then gradually returned toconsciousness with the above results. However, after a few nights ofthis severe kind of discipline, I at length became as able to sleep withmy head covered up as an Indian. 

When a foot or eighteen inches of snow fell upon us, we rejoiced, for itadded to our comfort, and caused us to sleep the better. Under thisadditional covering we generally rested a couple of hours longer thanusual, often to make up for the loss of sleep of the previous nights, when we had found it impossible, or had considered it dangerous, to goto sleep. 

The hardest work and the most disagreeable is the getting up from such abed in such a place. Often, in spite of the intense cold, we are in akind of a clammy perspiration, on account of the many wraps andcoverings about us. As we throw off these outer garments, and spring upin our camp, Jack Frost instantly assails us in a way that makes usshiver, and often some are almost compelled to cry out in bitteranguish. 

Fortunately the wood is always prepared the night before, and so, asquickly as possible, a great roaring fire is built up, and our breakfastof strong tea and fat meat is prepared and eaten with all speed. 

There were times when the morning outlook was gloomy indeed, and ourposition was not an enviable one. On one of my trips, of only a hundredand eighty miles, in order to save expense, I only took with me onecompanion, and he was a young Indian lad of about sixteen years of age. We each had our own train of dogs, and as Old Voyager was leader weguided him by voice alone, and he did not disappoint us. One morning, when we sprang up from our wintry camp-bed, we found that several inchesof snow had fallen upon us during the night. As soon as possible wearranged our wood in order and endeavoured to kindle our fire. We hadbeen late the previous evening in reaching this camping place, and sohad to grope around in the rapidly increasing darkness for our wood. Itwas of very inferior quality, but as we had succeeded in cooking oursuppers with part of it, we had not anticipated any trouble with therest. The snow which had fallen upon it had not improved it, and so, aswe lighted match after match, we were at first disgusted, and thenalarmed, at finding that the poor stuff persistently refused to ignite. Of course we had to take our hands out of our big fur mits when tryingto light the matches. Before we had succeeded in our attempts to startthe fire our hands began to chill, and soon they were so powerless thatwe were not able to hold a match in our fingers. Very naturally webecame alarmed, but we persevered as long as possible. I remember that, taking one of the matches between my teeth and holding up an axe beforeme, I tried to jerk my head quick enough to light it in that way, butthe experiment was not a success. 

Suddenly there came the consciousness that we were not far fromperishing if we could not make a fire. I quickly turned to my youngcomrade, and saw by the look in his face that he also grasped thesituation, and was terrified at the outlook. 

"Alec, " I said, "this is a serious thing for us. "

"Yes, Missionary, " said he. "I am afraid we die here. If we can makeno fire and have no breakfast, I am afraid we will freeze to death. "

"Not so bad as that yet, Alec, " I said. "God is our refuge and help. He has given us other ways by which we can get warm. As quickly aspossible get on your snow-shoes, and up with your hood and on with yourmits, and I will do likewise, and now see if you can catch me. "

In much less time than I have taken to describe it, we were rigged upfor rapid snow-shoe running, and were off. Away I rushed through thewoods as rapidly as I could on my snow-shoes. The lad followed me, andthus we ran chasing and catching each other alternately as though wewere a couple of boisterous schoolboys instead of a Missionary and hisIndian companion striving to save themselves from freezing to death. 

After about half an hour of this most vigorous exercise, we felt thewarmth coming back to our bodies, and then the hot blood began workingits way out to our benumbed hands, and by-and-by we could bend ourfingers again. When we felt the comfortable glow of warmth over ourwhole bodies, we rushed back again to the camp, and, gathering aquantity of birch bark which we found loosely hanging from the trees, and which is very inflammable, we soon had a good fire and then our hotbreakfast. At our morning devotions which followed there was a gooddeal of thanksgiving, and the grateful spirit continued in our hearts aswe packed up our loads, harnessed up our dogs, and sped on our way. Itwas a very narrow escape. The King of Terrors looked us both in theface that cold morning, and very nearly chilled us into death by the icyfingers of the Frost King. 

As the hours of daylight in the winter months in these high latitudesare so few, we generally roused ourselves up several hours beforedaylight. Often my kind-hearted men endeavoured to get up first, andhave a rousing fire made and breakfast cooked, before I would awake. This, however, did not occur very often, as such a bed was not conduciveto sleep; so, generally, after about four or five hours in such a stateof suffocation, I was thankful to get up the instant I heard any onestirring. I would rather freeze to death than be suffocated. 

There were times not a few when I was the first to get up, and kindlethe fire and cook the breakfast before I called my faithful weariedcompanions, who, long accustomed to such hardships, could sleep onsoundly, where for me it was an absolute impossibility. Sometimes mymen, when thus aroused, would look up at the stars and say "Assamweputch, " _i. E. _, "Very early. " All I had to do was to look gravely atmy watch, and this satisfied them that it was all right. The breakfastwas quickly eaten, our prayers were said, our sleds loaded, dogscaptured and harnessed--with the Esquimaux ones this was not always aneasy task--and we were ready to start. 

Before starting we generally threw the evergreen brush on which we hadslept on the fire, and by its ruddy, cheerful light began our day'sjourney. When some mornings we made from twenty-five to forty milesbefore sunrise, the Indians began to think the stars were about rightafter all, and the Missionary's watch very fast. However, they werejust as willing to get on rapidly as I was, and so did not find faultwith the way in which I endeavoured to hurry our party along. I paidthem extra whenever the record of a trip was broken, and we could lessenthe number of nights in those open-air camps in the snow. 

We were six days in making our first winter trip to Nelson River. Inafter years we reduced it to four days. The trail is through one of thefinest fur-producing regions of the North-West. Here the wanderingIndian hunters make their living by trapping such animals as the blackand silver foxes, as well as the more common varieties of that animal. Here are to be found otters, minks, martens, beavers, ermines, bears, wolves, and many other kinds of the fur-bearing animals. Here the blackbears are very numerous. On one canoe trip one summer we saw no lessthan seven of them, one of which we shot and lived on for several days. 

Here come the adventurous fur traders to purchase these valuable skins, and great fortunes have been made in the business. If, merely to makemoney and get rich, men are willing to come and put up with thehardships and privations of the country, what a disgrace to us if, fortheir souls' sake, we are afraid to follow in these hunters' trail, or, if need be, show them the way, that we may go with the glad story of aSaviour's love!

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

NELSON RIVER--A DEMONSTRATIVE WELCOME--FIRST RELIGIOUS SERVICE--A FOURHOURS' SERMON--THE CHIEF'S ELOQUENT REPLY--THE OLD MAN WITHGRANDCHILDREN IN HIS WIGWAM--"OUR FATHER"--"THEN WE AREBROTHERS"--"YES"--"THEN WHY IS THE WHITE BROTHER SO LONG TIME IN COMINGWITH THE GOSPEL TO HIS RED BROTHER?"--GLORIOUS SUCCESSES. 

It was at my second visit to Nelson River that the work reallycommenced. Through some unforeseen difficulty at the first visit, manyof the natives were away. Hunting is even at the best a precarious modeof obtaining a livelihood. Then, as the movements of the herds of deer, upon the flesh of which many of these Indians subsist for the greaterpart of the year, are very erratic, it is often difficult to arrange fora place of meeting, where food can be obtained in sufficient abundancewhile the religious services are being held. 

It used to be very discouraging, after having travelled for several daystogether, either by canoe in summer, or dog-trains in winter, to reach acertain place which had been arranged for meeting, and find very fewpresent. The deer, and other animals on which they had expected tolive, had gone in another direction, and the Indians had been obliged tofollow them. 

Everything, however, favoured us on our second visit. We found overfifty families camped at the place of meeting, and full of curiosity tosee the Missionary. They had all sorts of strange notions in theirminds. When Mr Rundle, of the English Wesleyan Church, first wentamong some of the wild tribes of the great Saskatchewan country, withhis open Bible, preaching the wonderful Gospel truths, great was theexcitement of the people to know where this strange man had come from. So a great council was summoned, and the conjurers were ordered to findout all about it. After a great deal of drumming and dreaming andconjuring, they gravely reported that this strange man with hiswonderful book had been wrapped up in an envelope, and had come downfrom the Great Spirit on a rainbow!

The Nelson River Indians welcomed me very cordially, and were much moredemonstrative in their greetings than were any of the other tribes I hadvisited, although I had had my share of strange welcomes. Here thecustom of handshaking was but little known, but the more ancient one ofkissing prevailed. Great indeed was my amazement when I found myselfsurrounded by two hundred and fifty or three hundred wild Indians, men, women, and children, whose faces seemed in blissful ignorance of soapand water, but all waiting to kiss me. I felt unable to stand theordeal, and so I managed to put them off with a shake of the hand, and akind word or two. 

At eight o'clock the next morning we called the Indians together for thefirst public religious service which most of them had ever attended. They were intensely interested. My Christian Indians from Norway Houseaided me in the opening services, and, being sweet singers, added verymuch to the interest. We sang several hymns, read a couple of lessonsfrom the Bible, and engaged in prayer. At about nine o'clock I read asmy text those sublime words: "For God so loved the world, that He gaveHis only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should notperish, but have everlasting life. "

They listened with the most enrapt attention, while for four hours Italked to them of some of the truths of this glorious verse. They hadnever heard a sermon before; they were ignorant of the simplest truthsof our blessed Christianity; and so I had to make everything plain andclear as I went along. I could not take anything for granted with thataudience. So I had to take them back to the Creation and Fall. Then Ispoke of God's love in providence and grace; and of His greatest act oflove, the gift of His only begotten beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, Who died that we might live. I dwelt on the benefits which come to usfrom the personal acceptance of this Saviour. I tried hard to show howwe, who had wandered so far away, were invited back to actual adoptioninto God's great family, as a conscious reality. I spoke of theuniversality and impartiality of God's love; of His willingness toreceive all, to fill our hearts with joy and peace, to comfort us allthrough life, to sustain us in death, and then to take us to everlastinglife in a world of light and glory. 

The ever-blessed Spirit most graciously applied the truth, as I tried, in the simplest and plainest way, to bring it down to theircomprehension. The attention they gave showed that my words were beingunderstood. Their bright eyes glistened and at times were suffused withtears, and as I closed the long-pent-up silence gave place to loudexclamations of delight. 

Then we translated into their language and sang part of the good oldhymn:--

 "O for a thousand tongues to sing My great Redeemer's praise, The glories of my God and King, The triumphs of His grace!"

Again we bowed in prayer, and, at my request, they repeated after me allthe petitions which in short easy sentences we offered up to Him Who isthe Hearer and Answerer of prayer. A spirit of awe and solemnity seemedto rest upon us. It was the first time the great majority had everattempted to pray in the Name of Jesus, and I felt a sweet assurancethat those simple petitions, from the hearts and lips of those poorIndians, were not despised by Him Whose great heart of love beats sotrue to all. After prayer I requested them all to again seat themselveson the ground, as I wished to hear from them about these great truthswhich I had come so far to tell them of. I wanted to know what weretheir wishes and determinations about becoming Christians. When I hadfinished, every eye turned towards the principal chief, as theseIndians, like the other tribes, have their unwritten laws of precedence. He rose up from his place among his people, and, coming near me on myright hand, he made one of the most thrilling addresses I ever heard. Years have passed away since that hour, and yet the memory of that tall, straight, impassioned Indian is as vivid as ever. His actions weremany, but all were graceful. His voice was particularly fine and fullof pathos, for he spoke from his heart. Here is the bare outline of hisspeech, as, with my interpreter to aid me, I shortly afterwards wrote itdown. 

"Missionary, I have long lost faith in our old paganism. " Then pointingdown to the outer edge of the audience, where some old conjurers andmedicine men were seated, he said, "They know I have not cared for ourold religion. I have neglected it. And I will tell you, Missionary, why I have not believed in our old paganism for a long time. I hear Godin the thunder, in the tempest, and in the storm; I see His power in thelightning that shivers the tree into kindling wood; I see His goodnessin giving us the moose, the reindeer, the beaver, and the bear; I seeHis loving-kindness in giving us, when the south winds blow, the ducksand geese; and when the snow and ice melt away, and our lakes and riversare open again, I see how He fills them with fish. I have watched thesethings for years, and I see how during every moon of the year He givesus something; and so He has arranged it, that if we are only industriousand careful, we can always have something to eat. So thinking aboutthese things which I had observed, I made up my mind years ago, thatthis Great Spirit, so kind and so watchful and so loving, did not carefor the beating of the conjurer's drum, or the shaking of the rattle ofthe medicine man. So I for years have had no religion. "

Then turning towards me and looking me in the face, he said, in tonesthat thrilled me, "Missionary, what you have said to-day fills up myheart and satisfies all its longings. It is just what I have beenexpecting to hear about the Great Spirit. I am so glad you have comewith this wonderful story. Stay as long as you can; and when you haveto go away, do not forget us, but come again as soon as you can. "

Loud expressions of approval greeted these words of the chief. When hehad finished, I said, "I want to hear from others, and I want your ownviews on these important things. " Many responded to my request, and, with the exception of an old conjurer or two, who feared for theiroccupation, all spoke in the same strain as did the head chief. Thelast to speak was an old man with grizzly hair, and wild, excitedmovements. He was a queer, savage-looking man, and came from the rearof the company to the front with strange springy movements. His hairwas braided, and reached to his knees. Threading his way through theaudience, he came up close to me, and then, pushing his fingers into hishair as far as its braided condition would allow, he exclaimed in a tonefull of earnestness, "Missionary, once my hair was as black as a crow'swing, now it is getting white. Grey hairs here, and grandchildren inthe wigwam, tell me that I am getting to be an old man; and yet I neverbefore heard such things as you have told us to-day. I am so glad I didnot die before I heard this wonderful story. Yet I am getting old. Grey hairs here, and grandchildren yonder, tell the story. Stay as longas you can, Missionary, tell us much of these things, and when you haveto go away, come back soon, for I have grandchildren, and I have greyhairs, and may not live many winters more. Do come back soon. "

He turned as though he would go back to his place and sit down; but heonly went a step or two ere he turned round and faced me, and said, "Missionary, may I say more?"

"Talk on, " I said. "I am here now to listen. "

"You said just now, `Notawenan. '" ("Our Father. ")

"Yes, " I said, "I did say, `Our Father. '"

"That is very new and sweet to us, " he said. "We never thought of theGreat Spirit as Father: we heard Him in the thunder, and saw Him in thelightning, and tempest; and blizzard, and we were afraid. So, when youtell us of the Great Spirit as Father, that is very beautiful to us. "

Hesitating a moment, he stood there, a wild, picturesque Indian, yet myheart had strangely gone out in loving interest and sympathy to him. 

Lifting up his eyes to mine, again he said, "May I say more?"

"Yes, " I answered, "say on. "

"You say, `Notawenan'. " ("_Our_ Father"). "He is your Father?"

"Yes, He is my Father. "

Then he said, while his eyes and voice yearned for the answer, "Does itmean He is my Father--poor Indian's Father?"

"Yes, O yes!" I exclaimed. "He is your Father too. "

"Your Father--missionary's Father, and Indian's Father, too!" herepeated. 

"Yes, that is true, " I answered. 

"Then we are brothers?" he almost shouted out. 

"Yes, we are brothers, " I replied. The excitement in the audience hadbecome something wonderful. When our conversation with the old man hadreached this point, and in such an unexpected, and yet dramatic manner, had so clearly brought out, not only the Fatherhood of God, but theoneness of the human family, the people could hardly restrain theirexpressions of delight. The old man, however, had not yet finished, andso, quietly restraining the most demonstrative ones, he again turned tome, and said, --

"May I say more?"

"Yes, say on; say all that is in your heart. "

Never can I forget his answer. 

"Well, I do not want to be rude, but it does seem to me that you, mywhite brother, have been a long time in coming with that great Book andits wonderful story, to tell it to your red brothers in the woods. "

This question thrilled me, and I found it hard to answer. This is thequestion that millions of weary, longing, waiting souls, dissatisfiedwith their false religions, and craving for that soul rest which onlycan be found in the hearty acceptance of the glorious Gospel of the Sonof God, are asking. I tried to apologise for the slowness of theadvancement of the Redeemer's kingdom, and the apathy of those who, while acknowledging the brotherhood of humanity, so often forget thatthey are their brother's keeper. 

We closed the service for a brief period, and then, as soon as a hurrieddinner had been eaten, we all assembled again for the afternoon service. This second service lasted for five hours. After singing and prayer, Iread the beautiful story of the Ethiopian eunuch, and the BaptismalService. I endeavoured to explain what we meant by becoming Christians, and stated that I was willing to baptize all who would renounce theirpaganism, with its polygamy, conjuring, gambling, and other vices, andfrom that time begin to worship the true God. Polygamy was the greateststumbling-block among them, as some of them had three or four wives. Intemperance here is but little known, on account perhaps of the greatdifficulty of importing liquor into a region so remote fromcivilisation. 

After I had spent a long time in making clear the doctrines or theblessed Book, and had answered many questions, I invited all who werewilling to comply with these conditions, and desired baptism, to come tothe front of the audience, where I was standing. 

About forty men and women immediately responded, and came forward andseated themselves at my feet. Some were trembling, others were weeping:all seemed deeply moved. Then I read the beautiful Scripture lessons inconnection with the baptismal service for children, and dwelt upon thelove of Jesus for children, and His willingness to receive them. Iinvited the parents to consecrate their children to God, even if theythemselves were as yet undecided. We had a solemn and impressive time. 

All desired new names, and for the great majority I had to make theselection. While baptizing them and selecting Christian names asadditions to their generally poetic and expressive Indian names, myconstant prayer was, that they might "see His face, and His name" beWritten "in their foreheads. "

Still there was some opposition. Satan would not thus easily bedispossessed or driven out. Old conjurers and medicine men, faithfulfollowers of the enemy, quickly began their opposition. Their selfishnatures were aroused. They were shrewd enough to see that if Isucceeded, as I was likely to do, they, like Demetrius, the shrine-makerof Diana, would soon be without an occupation. So at this afternoongathering they were there to oppose. But they were in such a helplessminority that they dared do no worse than storm and threaten. Onesavage old conjurer rushed up to me, just as I was about to baptize hiswife, who, with many others, had come for this sign and seal of heracceptance of Christ. Before I had perceived his purpose, or had powerto stop him, he seized and shook her roughly, and, looking at me, in hisimpotent wrath, said in an insulting manner, --

"Call her Atim, " ("dog"). 

"No, " I said, looking kindly at the poor trembling woman, "I will donothing of the kind; but I will give her the sweetest name ever borne bywoman, for it was the name of the mother of Jesus. "

So I baptized her Mary. 

We spent several days in giving lessons in the Syllabic charactersbetween the religious services, three of which we endeavoured to holdeach day. Sometimes we assembled all the people together, and, withthese characters marked on the side of a rock with a burnt stick, wetaught them as best we could. At other times we went from tent to tent, and gave them lessons, and had religious conversation and prayer. 

It was on one of these rounds of wigwam visitations that I came acrossPe-pe-qua-na-pua, or Sandy Harte, the story of whose life and conversionhas been so widely circulated. Several acquired such a knowledge ofthese characters that, by persevering for a few weeks, they were able toread very nicely in the blessed Book. 

I left with them several dozen copies of the New Testament, Hymn-books, and Catechisms, in their own language. 

So great was their anxiety for religious instruction, that many of themremained for three days after they had eaten all of their provisions. When I first heard this, I could hardly credit it, but found out bypersonal investigation that it was the actual fact. With tears in theireyes they bade me farewell, and said, that on account of their famishingchildren they must start off for their fishing and hunting grounds. Butthey added, "What we have heard from you will make us glad and thankfulall the time. "

With my faithful travelling companions, I made a trip out from NelsonRiver to another small band about thirty miles away. We spent theSabbath in a miserable wigwam, where the snow and sleet dashed in uponus, making us shiver in spite of all we could do. Still, as the poorIndians were anxious to hear the Gospel, we soon forgot our physicaldiscomforts in the joy of preaching this great salvation. Nineteen ofthem accepted Christ as their Saviour, and were baptized. We held ameeting for the purpose of hearing them tell of their wishes as to thisblessed religion. Many very interesting things were said. We hererecord only one. 

A fine-looking man said, "What has fully decided me to endeavour to be agood Christian all my days is this. The Missionary has told us manyreasons, all sufficient to decide us; but the one that came very near tomy heart was, that all the little children who have died have been takento that better land, and there they are with the loving Saviour inheaven. My little ones have passed away, leaving my heart sore andbleeding. I yearn after them; I long to meet them again. So I want soto live that when I die Jesus will permit me to embrace them, and neverbe separated from them again. "

On this trip, we found at another small encampment a young girl, abouttwelve years of age, dying of consumption. I talked to her of Jesus andheaven, and prayed with her several times. When the closing scene drewnear, she said to her sorrowing mother, "I am glad the praying man hastold me such words of comfort. I have lost that dread of death I had. I believe that dear Jesus will take me to that better land; but, mother, when you come, will you look for me until you find me? for I do wish tosee you again. "

Is it any wonder that I became deeply attached to these Nelson RiverIndians? I visited them twice a year, and by pen and voice pleaded forthem until my heart's desire was obtained, and a brother belovedvolunteered to go and live among them. Of him with joy I write. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A WELCOME ACCESSION--THE REVEREND JOHN SEMMENS--A DEVOTED YOUNGMISSIONARY--FIRST TO RESIDE AT NELSON RIVER--IN LABOURS AND IN PERILSOFT--IN JOURNEYINGS OFT BY DOG-TRAINS TOGETHER--THE CENTENARIAN OLDCHRISTIAN--WILLIAM PAPANEKIS--HIS GODLY LIFE AND WONDROUS TRANSLATION. 

One cold wintry morning we were gladdened by the arrival of a dearbrother and colleague in the work, the Reverend John Semmens, who hadleft a comfortable charge in Ontario, and had come out to help me in theprosecution of the blessed work. Brother Semmens had to taste, early inhis missionary work among the Indians, some of the dangers incident tosuch a life. He came to us at Norway House in the depth of the winter, and suffered much from the intense cold and blizzard storms. One night, while trying to rest in the camp in the woods on his way out, a fiercestorm blew down a large tree, which fell very close to him. Providentially no one was hurt. 

He soon became very popular among the Indians, for whom he subsequentlygave many years of successful, self-denying toil. His presence with usin our home was a great joy. None but those who have been deprived ofthe pleasure of the society and fellowship of kindred spirits canrealise what a benediction this sweet-spirited and devoted young brotherwas in our home. With one great object before us, that of doing thegreatest possible good we could to the Indians among whom we were calledto labour, and fortunately seeing "eye to eye" as to the methods of ourwork, we spent some months and broken years in harmony in doing what wecould. 

Brother Semmens' name will ever be associated with the Nelson RiverMission, as he was the first missionary to go and live in that region ofcountry and among those wandering Aborigines, who had received me withsuch expressions of joy when on my visits, so few, alas! and farbetween. Very many indeed were Mr Semmens' hardships. Their wanderinglife made his work slow and at times discouraging. He had not at firsta knowledge of their language, and could not always get an interpreter. However, as the love of Christ was the constraining motive, hepersevered, and great indeed was his success among them. 

We will not here insert any of the many thrilling incidents of hisromantic pioneer work among them. We hope that from his fluent pen willcome his own record, which will be a very valuable addition tomissionary literature. Often did we, like the early ones sent out bythe Master in pairs, go together on some long and difficult exploringtours. At many a camp-fire and in many a wigwam have we talked andpleaded with the wandering Indians, and have besought them to bereconciled to God. Hundreds of miles have we tramped on together, untilour limbs were cramped and our feet were bleeding; and then, in the coldcamp after supper and prayers, have we crowded in close together underthe same robes and tried to sleep. Will either of us ever forget thetrip in to District Meeting at Winnipeg, where on the great Lake we gotseparated from the rest of our party, but by rapid travelling reachedthe comfortable home and cordial welcome of our beloved Chairman, theReverend George Young, thus escaping the terrible blizzard in which somany suffered? Then the return trip was equally exciting and perilous. We left Winnipeg on the Saturday afternoon with our heavily loaded dogsleds. At Mr Sifton's, near Selkirk, we were cordially welcomed, andhere we remained in quiet rest and joyous worship during the Sabbathday. When the clock struck the hour of midnight, we exchanged our blackclothes for our leather suits. We harnessed up our dogs, and then, after eating a midnight meal, we bade our host and hostess farewell, andpushed out under the stars on our long journey to the far North. MrSemmens' journey would not be finished until he was six or seven hundredmiles nearer the North Pole. 

Mr Sifton told me in after years, that they could only sit there andweep as they thought of our starting off in the bitter cold and gloom ofthat midnight hour on such a journey. Missionary work to them from thathour took on itself additional interest, and ever after much greater, ifpossible, was their love for those who for His sake were willing toendure hardness in extending the knowledge of His Name. 

Ere the sun rose, we were near the Willow Islands, and there we had ourbreakfast. It was getting late in the winter season, and so thereflection of the brilliant rays of the sun on the dazzlingly whitesnowy waste of Winnipeg gave us both a touch of snow-blindness. Still, as we could see a little, we only stopped when it was necessary, andrapidly hurried on. When about twenty miles from Beren's River nightcame down upon us; but I could not bear the idea of having again tosleep in a miserable camp when home was so near, for at this time I wasin charge of the new work among the Saulteaux. So I said to BrotherSemmens, and to our two well-disciplined dog-drivers, "Courage, men, alittle longer; let us not stop here in the bitter cold when our homesare so near. " The Indians responded with a will, and rejoiced that wewere to go on. But my beloved Brother Semmens was completely tired out, and my heart was filled with sorrow as I saw how utterly exhausted hewas. Throwing himself down on the cold, icy surface of the lake, hesaid, "Throw me out a blanket and a piece of pemmican, and leave mehere. I cannot go a step further. The rest of you have wives andchildren to lure you on to your homes; I have none. I can go nofarther. My feet are bleeding from the straps of my snowshoes. I willstay here. Never mind me. "

Thus the dear fellow talked, for he was exhausted and discouraged. Idid not feel much better, but I tried to put a bold face on the matter, and I said, "No, indeed, we will not leave you here. We are going on, and we are going to take you with us; and a good supper under a roof, and then a warm bed, are to be yours before morning comes. "

One of my dogs, called Muff, a magnificent but over-ambitious St. Bernard, the gift of Mrs Andrew Allen, of Montreal, had broken hercollar-bone during this trip. The plan generally adopted, when such anaccident happens to one of the dogs, was to kill it at once, and thenpush on with the diminished train. However, as Muff was such a valuabledog, and there was a possibility of her recovering, I decided to carryher home, although we were a long distance from it. I so arranged mysled that she could ride upon it, and she soon became quite reconciledto her place. But it meant a good deal of hard running for me. Beforethe accident occurred, I could ride a great part of the time, althoughwe had over six hundred pounds weight upon the sled. However, as Jackwas one of the train, I was able to ride when the ice was good. Now, however, with one dog less in the train, and that one as so muchadditional weight on the sled, it meant the end of my riding for thattrip. 

Very quickly did I decide how to act in order to help my dear companionin tribulation. With our axes my Indians and myself chopped a hole inthe solidly packed snow and ice near the shore of the lake. In this wespread out a buffalo robe, and on it we placed the injured dog. Thenaround her we placed the greater part of the load of the dog-sled, andthen covered all up as well as we could with the large deer-skin sleighwrapper. Giving the dog orders to guard well the supplies from prowlingwild animals, and making a large number of tracks as an additionalprecaution, we left Muff there with her goods. 

Then we drove the dogs over to the spot where Mr Semmens lay, and, wrapping him well up in robes and putting a little pillow under hishead, we tied him on the sled, and started off on the last stage of ourjourney. We were all so weary that we made but slow progress, and itwas after midnight ere the welcome Mission House was reached, and wewere within the walls of home. 

Mr Semmens had fortunately slept most of the way. A good supper, aftera warm bath, and then a long, sweet, dreamless sleep, that lasted untilnearly noon of the next day, wonderfully refreshed his spirits, and ashe came down and greeted us, his first words were, "O Egerton, I am soglad you did not leave me there to perish on the ice!"

Still in his prime, with a noble wife and precious children around him, he is in that land doing good service for the Master. From him we yetexpect to hear good tidings, for in physical strength and mentalequipment and thorough consecration to his work he is the peer of anywho there toil. 

THE CENTENARIAN. 

One of the first Indians to attract our attention at Norway House was avenerable-looking old man of more than usual height. His appearance wasquite patriarchal. His welcome had been most cordial, and his wordsseemed to us like a loving benediction. He called us his children, andwelcomed us to our home and work in the name of the Lord Jesus. 

As he was very aged, and had to come a long distance from his home tothe Sunday morning service, we invited him, on the first Sunday afterour arrival at the Mission, to dine with us. He was very grateful, andsaid this would enable him to remain for the afternoon native service, which he dearly prized. He was not only a blessed Christian, but anatural gentleman. We were so drawn towards him that we invited him todine with us, and then rest awhile, each Sabbath between the services. 

Like all the old Indians, his age was unknown, but it must have beenover a century, as men above fifty said he was called an old man whenthey were boys. The fact that his name had been on the Hudson's BayCompany's book for eighty years, as a skilful hunter, makes it quitesafe to class him as a centenarian. 

His testimony to the blessedness of the Gospel was very clear anddelightful. He "knew Whom he had believed, " and ever rejoiced in theblessed assurance that he would have grace given to keep him to the end. He was one of the first converts of the early Missionaries, and hadremained true and steadfast. He had been a successful Class Leader formany years, and faithfully and well did he attend to his duties. If anyof his members were not at the meeting, he knew the reason why beforethe next evening, if they were within five or six miles of his home. 

As he lived a couple of years after we reached the Mission, we got to bevery well acquainted, and it was ever a blessing to talk to him ofspiritual things. I had a very convincing evidence one day of thethoroughness with which he had renounced his old pagan life and itssinful practices. We had been talking on various subjects, and thematter of different kinds of beliefs came up. As he had a veryretentive memory, and I had been told that he was the best authority onold Indian religions and superstitions, I took out of my pocket a note-book and pencil, and said, "Mismis" (English, "Grandfather"), "I wantyou to tell me some things about your old conjurings and religions. Imay want to write a book some time, and put some of these things in it. "

The dear old man's face became clouded, and he shook his head andremained silent. 

I urged my request, saying I felt certain he, from his great age, musthave much to talk about. For his answer, he sat down in his chair, and, putting his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands, andseemed lost in a kind of reverie. 

I waited for a few minutes, for all was hushed and still. His familyhad heard my question, and they had become intensely interested. Thesilence became almost painful, and so I said in a cheery strain, "Come, grandfather, I am waiting to write down what you have to say. "

Suddenly he sprang up in a way that startled us all, and, stretching outhis hand like an orator, he began:--

"Missionary! the old wicked life is like a nightmare, like a bad dream, like a terrible sickness that made us cry out with pain. I am trying tobanish it, to forget it, to wipe it out of my memory. Please do not askme to talk about it, or to bring it up. I could not sleep; I should bemiserable. "

Of course I put up my book and pencil, and did not further trouble thedear old man, who seemed so loth to talk about his old belief. 

The next Sunday after this interview we had a Fellowship Meeting in thechurch. One of the first to speak was this venerable grandfather. Hesaid, "The Missionary wanted me to talk to him about my old religion. Icould not do it. It was my enemy. It only made me miserable. The moreI followed it, the more unhappy I was. So I have cast it out of mylife, and from my heart. Would that I could wash it out of my memory!"Then he added, "But perhaps the memory of it helps to make me love mySaviour better, as I can remember from what He has saved me. I was sofar from him, and so dark and sinful He reached down His strong arm andlifted me out of the dark place, and put me into the light. O, I am sothankful Jesus saves me, and I love to talk about it. "

And he did talk about it, and our hearts rejoiced with him. 

Of him it could be truthfully said, "What he once loved he now hates, and does it so thoroughly that he does not even wish to talk about it. "

While writing these pleasant memories, perhaps I cannot do better thanhere record the remarkable closing scenes of the life of this venerableold man, the patriarch of the village. His family was a large one. Hehad several sons. Worthy, excellent men they were. About some of themwe shall have interesting things to say. The youngest, Edward, it wasmy joy to lead into the sweet assurance that his sins were all forgiven. In July, 1889, he was ordained, in Winnipeg, to the office and work ofthe Christian ministry. 

Martin, another of his sons, was one of my most loved and trustedguides, and my companion, for thousands of miles, in birch canoe bysummer, and dog-trains by winter. We have looked death in the facetogether many times, but I never knew him to flinch or play a coward'spart. Supplies might fail, and storms and head-winds delay us, untilstarvation stared us in the face, and even the Missionary himself beganto question the wisdom of taking these wild journeys where the chanceswere largely against our return, when from Martin, or one of the others, would come the apt quotation from the Sacred Word, or from their musicalvoices the cheering hymn which said, --

 "Give to the winds thy fears; Hope, and be undismayed: God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears, God shall lift up thy head. 

 "Through waves and clouds and storms He gently clears thy way: Wait thou His time, so shall this night Soon end in joyous day. "

Very precious and very real were many of the blessed promises, and theirfulfilment, to us in those times of peril and danger, when death seemedto be so near, and we so helpless and dependent upon the Almighty arm. 

Another son of this old saint was Samuel, the courageous guide andmodest, unassuming Christian. He was the one who guided his well-loadedbrigade up the mighty Saskatchewan river to the rescue of the whitesthere, and having safely and grandly done his work, "holding on to God, "went up the shining way so triumphantly that there lingered behind onhis once pallid face some radiance of the glory like that into which hehad entered; and some seeing it were smitten with a longing to have itas their portion, and so, then and there, they gave themselves to God. Of him we shall hear more farther on. 

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One day when the venerable father met his class, he told his membersthat his work was nearly done, and very soon indeed he expected to passover to the better land. Although as well as he had been for months, yet he had a premonition that the end of his life was near. Verylovingly and faithfully did he talk to them, and exhorted them to befaithful to the end. 

The next day he sent for me, and requested me to appoint one of his sonsas leader of his class, if I thought him worthy of the place. 

I said, "We do not want to lose you. Your class members all love you. Why resign your position?"

A strange look in his face told me that he had set his heart on joininganother company, and that it seemed as though he were only postponinghis departure until his little affairs on earth were set in order. 

"I am going very soon now, and I want to have everything settled beforeI go; and I shall be so glad to see my son William leader of my class, if you think it best. "

As the son was a most excellent man the appointment was made, much tothe aged father's delight. 

The next day he had assembled all the old members who had renouncedpaganism and become Christians at the same time as he did, over thirtyyears before. There were enough of them to fill his house, and all camewho possibly could. They sang and prayed together, and then he stood upbefore them and addressed them in loving and affectionate words. 

As I sat there and looked upon the scene, while, for about an hour, hewas reviewing the past, and talking of God's goodness in bringing themout of paganism, and conferring so many blessings upon them, I thoughtof Joshua's memorable gathering of the elder people at Shechem to hearhis dying charge. At his request I administered to them all, and thoseof his many relations who were worthy, the sacrament of the Lord'sSupper. It was a most impressive time. He Whose dying we celebratedseemed in Spirit very blessedly near. 

Then perhaps another hour was spent, at his desire, in singing hisfavourite hymns and in prayer. He entered with great spirit into thedevotions, and many said afterwards, "Heaven seemed very near. " I shookhands with him and said, "Goodbye, " and returned to my home. With theexception of a little weariness on account of the exciting servicesthrough which he had passed, I saw no change in him. His voice was justas cheery, his eye as bright, his grip as firm as usual, and I saw noreason why he should not live a good while yet. 

About an hour after, while talking the matter over with Mrs Young, andgiving her some of the specially interesting incidents of the memorableservices with our dear old friend, there was a sudden call for me by anIndian, who, rushing in without any ceremony, exclaimed, "Come quickly;grandfather is dead!" I hurriedly returned with him, and found that theaged patriarch had indeed passed away. 

They told me that after I had left them he continued for a time to speakloving words of counsel and advice to them. Then, as had been hishabit, he lay down on his bed, and drew his blanket around him, asthough prepared for rest. As they knew he must be weary, they kept verystill, so as not to disturb him. Not hearing him breathe, one of themtouched him, and found that he had fallen into that sleep which hereknows no waking. He was not, for God had taken him. 

It was a remarkable death. The great difficulty among us seemed to be, to realise the presence of death at all. He suffered from no disease, and never complained of pain. His mind was unclouded till the last. Inhis humble position he had done his work, and done it well; and so now, with all the confidence of a loving child resting in the arms of amother, he laid his head down on the bosom of his Lord. 

With rejoicings, rather than weepings, we laid in the little graveyardall that was mortal of William Papanekis. We missed him very much, forhis presence was like the sunshine, and his prayers were benedictionsupon us all. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

REVEREND JAMES EVANS, THE PEERLESS MISSIONARY--HIS JOURNEYS BY CANOE ANDDOG-TRAIN--THE CREE SYLLABIC CHARACTERS, HIS INVENTION--LORD DUFFERIN'SWORDS CONCERNING HIM--HIS SUCCESSES--HIS TRIALS--ACCIDENTAL SHOOTING OFHIS INTERPRETER--SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO THE AVENGERS--ADOPTED INTO APAGAN FAMILY--VISIT TO ENGLAND--SUDDEN DEATH. 

Without any question, the Reverend James Evans was the grandest and mostsuccessful of all our Indian Missionaries. Of him it can be said mostemphatically, "While others have done well, he excelled them all. "

In burning zeal, in heroic efforts, in journeyings oft, in tact thatnever failed in many a trying hour, in success most marvellous, in avivacity and sprightliness that never succumbed to discouragement, in afaith that never faltered, and in a solicitude for the spread of ourblessed Christianity that never grew less, James Evans stands among uswithout a peer. 

If full accounts of his long journeys in the wilds of the great North-West could be written, they would equal in thrilling interest anythingof the kind known in modern missionary annals. There is hardly anIndian Mission of any prominence to-day in the whole of the vast North-West, whether belonging to the Church of England, the Roman Catholic, orthe Methodist Church, that James Evans did not commence; and the reasonwhy the Methodist Church to-day does not hold them all is, because theapathetic Church did not respond to his thrilling appeals, and send inmen to take possession and hold the fields as fast as they weresuccessfully opened up by him. 

From the northern shores of Lake Superior away to the _ultima Thule_that lies beyond the waters of Athabasca and Slave Lakes, where theAurora Borealis holds high carnival; from the beautiful prairies of theBow and Saskatchewan Rivers to the muskegs and sterile regions ofHudson's Bay; from the fair and fertile domains of Red and AssinaboiaRivers, to the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains, enduring footprints ofJames Evans may still be seen. 

At many a camp-fire, and in many a lonely wigwam, old Indians yetlinger, whose eyes brighten and whose tongues wax eloquent as theyrecall that man whose deeds live on, and whose converts from a degradingpaganism are still to be counted by scores. Many a weary hour has beencharmed away, as I have listened to Papanekis the elder, or Henry Budd, or some other old Indian guide or dog-driver, or canoe-man, while theyrehearsed the thrilling adventures, the narrow escapes, the wonderfuldeliverances, and also some of the tragic events, through which theypassed in company with the "Nistum Ayumeaookemou, " the "firstMissionary. "

The dog-drivers loved to talk about Mr Evans' wonderful train of halfdogs, half wolves, with which for years he travelled. With greatenthusiasm they would talk of their marvellous speed and endurance, oftheir fierceness and sagacity; of how, when the nights in the wintrycamps were unusually cold--say fifty or sixty degrees below zero--thesefierce animals would crowd into the camp, and, lying on their backs, would hold up both their fore and hind feet, and thus mutely beg forsome one to have compassion upon them and put on the warm woollen dog-shoes. 

His canoe trips were often of many weeks' duration, and extended forthousands of miles. No river seemed too rapid, and no lake too stormy, to deter him in his untiring zeal to find out the Indian in hissolitudes, and preach to him the ever-blessed Gospel. Ever on the look-out for improvements to aid him in more rapid transit through thecountry, Mr Evans constructed a canoe out of sheet tin. This theIndians called the "Island of light, " on account of its flashing backthe sun's rays as it glided along propelled by the strong paddles in thehands of the well trained crew. With them they carried in this novelcraft solder and soldering-iron, and when they had the misfortune to runupon a rock they went ashore and quickly repaired the injured place. 

Mr Evans had been for years a Minister and Missionary in the CanadianMethodist Church. With the Reverend William Case he had been verysuccessfully employed among the Indians in the Province of Ontario. When the English Wesleyan Society decided to begin work among theneglected tribes in the Hudson's Bay Territories, the Reverend JamesEvans was the man appointed to be the leader of the devoted band. Inorder to reach Norway House, which was to be his first principalMission, his household effects had to be shipped from Toronto toEngland, and thence reshipped to York Factory on the Hudson Bay. Fromthis place they had to be taken up by boats to Norway House in theinterior, a distance of five hundred miles. Seventy times had they tobe lifted out of these inland boats and carried along the portagesaround falls and cataracts ere they reached their destination. 

Mr Evans himself went by boat from Toronto. The trip from Thunder Bayin Lake Superior to Norway House was performed in a birch bark canoe. Hundreds of Indians listened to his burning messages, and great good wasdone by him and his faithful companions in arms, among them being theheroic Mr Barnley, and Mr Rundle, of the English Wesleyan Church. 

The great work of Mr Evans' life, and that with which his name will beever associated, was undoubtedly the invention and perfecting of what isnow so widely known as the Cree Syllabic Characters. What first led himto this invention was the difficulty he and others had in teaching theIndians to read in the ordinary way. They are hunters, and so are verymuch on the move, like the animals they seek. To-day their tents arepitched where there is good fishing, and perhaps in two weeks they arefar away in the deep forests, where roam the reindeer, or on the banksof streams where the beavers build their wonderful dams and curioushomes. The constant thought in this master Missionary's mind was, "CanI possibly devise a plan by which these wandering people can learn toread more easily?"

The principle of the characters which he adopted is phonetic. There areno silent letters. Each character represents a syllable; hence nospelling is required. As soon as the alphabet is mastered, and a fewadditional secondary signs, some of which represent consonants, and someaspirates, and some partially change the sound of the main character, the Indian student, be he a man or woman of eighty, or a child of sixyears, can commence at the first chapter of Genesis and read on, slowlyof course at first, but in a few days with surprising ease and accuracy. 

Many were Mr Evans' difficulties in perfecting this invention andputting it in practical use, even after he had got the scheme clear anddistinct in his own mind. He was hundreds of miles away fromcivilisation. Very little indeed had he with which to work. Yet withhim there was no such word as failure. Obtaining, as a great favour, the thin sheets of lead that were around the tea-chests of the furtraders, he melted these down into little bars, and from them cut outhis first types. His ink was made out of the soot of the chimneys, andhis first paper was birch bark. After a good deal of effort, and theexercise of much ingenuity, he made a press, and then the work began. 

Great indeed was the amazement and delight of the Indians. The factthat the bark could "talk" was to them most wonderful. Portions of theGospels were first printed, and then some of the beautiful hymns. Thestory of this invention reached the Wesleyan Home Society. Generoushelp was afforded. A good supply of these types was cast in London, and, with a good press and all the essential requisites, including alarge quantity of paper, was sent out to that Mission, and for years itwas the great point from which considerable portions of the Word of Godwere scattered among the wandering tribes, conferring unnumberedblessings upon them. In later years the noble British and Foreign BibleSociety has taken charge of the work; and now, thanks to theirgenerosity, the Indians have the blessed Word scattered among them, andthousands can read its glorious truths. 

All the Churches having Missions in that great land have availedthemselves, more or less, of Mr Evans' invention. To suit other tribesspeaking different languages, the characters have been modified or havehad additions to them, to correspond with sounds in those languageswhich were not in the Cree. Even in Greenland the Moravian Missionariesare now using Evans' Syllabic Characters with great success among theEsquimaux. 

When Lord Dufferin was Governor-General of the Dominion of Canada, hearing that a couple of Missionaries from the Indian tribes were inOttawa, where he resided, he sent a courteous request for us to callupon him. With two or three friends, Mr Crosby, our successful andenergetic Missionary from British Columbia, and I, obeyed the summons. 

The interview was a very pleasant and profitable one. Lord Dufferinquestioned Mr Crosby about British Columbia and his work, and waspleased to hear of his great success. After a bright and earnestconversation with me in reference to the Indians of the North-WestTerritories, in which his Excellency expressed his solicitude for thewelfare and happiness of the aboriginal tribes of red men, he made someinquiries in reference to missionary work among them, and seemed muchpleased with the answers I was able to give. In mentioning the help Ihad in my work, I showed him my Cree Indian Testament printed in Evans'Syllabic Characters, and explained the invention to him. At once hiscuriosity was excited, and, jumping up, he hurried off for pen and ink, and got me to write out the whole alphabet for him; and then, with thatglee and vivacity for which his lordship was so noted, he constituted mehis teacher, and commenced at once to master them. 

As their simplicity, and yet wonderful adaptation for their designedwork, became evident to him--for in a short time he was able to read aportion of the Lord's Prayer--Lord Dufferin was much excited, and, getting up from his chair and holding up the Testament in his hand, exclaimed, "Why, Mr Young, what a blessing to humanity the man was whoinvented that alphabet!" Then he added, "I profess to be a kind of aliterary man myself, and try to keep posted up in my reading of what isgoing on, but I never heard of this before. The fact is, the nation hasgiven many a man a title, and a pension, and then a resting-place and amonument in Westminster Abbey, who never did half so much for hisfellow-creatures. "

Then again he asked, "Who did you say was the author or inventor ofthese characters?"

"The Reverend James Evans, " I replied. 

"Well, why is it I never heard of him before, I wonder?"

My reply was, "My lord, perhaps the reason why you never heard of himbefore was because he was a humble, modest Methodist preacher. "

With a laugh he replied, "That may have been it, " and then theconversation changed. 

Mr Evans was ever anxious that the Indian converts should at once bemade to understand all the duties and responsibilities of the new lifeon which they were entering, he was a fearless man, and boldly declaredunto them the whole counsel of God. Knowing the blighting, destroyinginfluences of the "fire water" upon the poor Indian race, he made theChurch a total abstinence society, and, as all missionaries should, heset them the example of his own life. Then, as regards the keeping ofthe Sabbath, he took his stand on the Word of God, and preached theabsolute necessity of the one day's rest in seven. In after years wesaw the good results of the scriptural lessons which he and his worthysuccessors taught in reference to the holy day. 

Many and severe were the trials, and mysterious some of thepersecutions, which this glorious man had to bear. Because of hisunswerving loyalty to truth, and his conscientious and fearless teachingof all the commandments of God's Word, some in high authority, who atfirst were supposed to be friendly, turned against him, and became hisunprincipled foes. The trouble first seemed to begin when Mr Evanstaught the Indians to "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. " Athis request, they, when hunting or fishing or tripping in the months ofopen water, rested on the Lord's day. Short-sighted employers, unconscious of the fact, so often demonstrated, that they who rest theone day in seven can do more work in the other six, opposed thisteaching, and, when they could not stop it, assailed the Missionary in away that must have caused a jubilee in hell. I shall not go intoparticulars. Most of the principal actors are in the presence of theJudge of all the earth. He Who suffered for a time the name of thisdevoted servant of His to be so shamefully clouded has cleared all themists away; and like the silver refined by the furnace, so has it beenin this case. 

But persecutions, and even these bitter assaults upon his character, could not turn him from the most intense activity in his blessed life-work. Like an Apostle Paul in primitive times, or like a Coke or Asburyin the early years of this century, so travelled James Evans. When wesay he travelled thousands of miles each year on his almost semi-continental journeys, we must remember that these were not performed bycoach or railroad, or even with horse and carriage, or in the saddle orsailing vessel, but by canoe and dog-train. How much of hardship andsuffering that means, we are thankful but few of our readers will everknow. There are a few of us who do know something of these things, andthis fellowship of his suffering knits our hearts in loving memory tohim who excelled us all, and the fragrance of whose name and unselfishdevotion to his work met us almost everywhere, although years had passedaway since James Evans had entered into his rest. "He being dead yetspeaketh. " To write about him and his work is a labour of love. Wouldthat the pen of some ready writer might give us a biography of thisMissionary of such versatility of gifts, and such marvellous success inhis work!

Room only have I here, in addition to what has already been written, togive some account of the sad event of his life, the accidental shootingof his interpreter, Joseph Hasselton, and the after consequences. 

Word reached Mr Evans one year, that the priests were endeavouring tocrowd up into the Athabasca and Mackenzie River country, and get afoothold among some very interesting Indians whom Mr Evans had visitedand found very anxious for the truth. Desirous that they should not beled away from the simplicity of the Gospel, he felt that the best planwas for him to hurry up by light canoe and get into that country andamong his Indians before the priests arrived. They had gone the usualroute up the Saskatchewan, and from thence were to go over the height ofland, and then by boat down the streams which from those regions runtowards the Arctic Ocean. 

Mr Evans' plan was to take what is called "the back route, " that was, to go partly down the Nelson River, and then, turning westward throughan almost endless succession of lakes and rivers and portages, arrivebefore the other parties, although several weeks of severest toil wouldbe passed in making the long journey. With his beloved interpreter, whowas one of the most remarkable Indians of his day, a man who could talkalmost every Indian language spoken by the natives of the land, and, what was better, a devoted Christian, full of zeal and enthusiasm forthe work, and with another reliable native from whom I received myinformation as to what occurred, the long journey was commenced. Forseveral days they made good progress, and were rejoicing at the prospectof success. One morning, very early, while they were paddling along inthe great Nelson River, Hasselton, the interpreter, who was in the frontof the canoe, said, "I see some ducks in those reeds near the shore. Hand me the gun. " In these small canoes the guns are generally kept inthe stern with the muzzles pointing back, so as to prevent accidents. The man who was in the stern quickly picked up the gun, and foolishlydrew back the trigger. With the muzzle pointing forward he passed thegun to Mr Evans, who did not turn his head, as he was earnestly lookingif he also could see the ducks. As Mr Evans took the gun passed to himhe unfortunately let the trigger, which had no guard around it, strikeagainst the thaft of the canoe. Instantly it went off, and the contentswere discharged into the head of the poor man in front. He turned hisdying eyes upon Mr Evans, and then fell over, a corpse. It was anawful accident, and doubly painful on account of the unfortunatesurroundings. Here the two survivors were, about two hundred miles fromany habitation. They could not take the body back with them. For daysthey would meet none to whom they could tell their story. They wentashore, and, when their first paroxysm of grief was over, they had todig, as best they could, a grave in the wilderness, and there bury theirdead. 

They turned their faces homeward, and very sorrowful indeed was thejourney. Great was the grief at the village, and greater still theconsternation when it was discovered what Mr Evans had resolved to do. His interpreter was the only Christian among his relatives. The rest ofthem were wild pagans with bad records. Life for life was their motto, and many had been their deeds of cruelty and bloodshed in seeking thatrevenge which occupies so large a place in the savage Indian's heart. They lived several hundred miles away, and Mr Evans resolved to go andsurrender himself to them, tell them what he had done, and take all theconsequences. Many friends, knowing how quick the Indian is to act whenaroused by the news of the death of a relative--for often before hehears all the circumstances does he strike the fatal blow--urged him notto go himself, but to send a mediator. 

To this suggestion he turned a deaf ear, and, having made his will andleft all instructions as to the work if he should never return, andbidden farewell to his stricken family, who never expected to see himalive again, he started off on his strange and perilous journey. 

Reaching the distant village, he walked into the tent of the parents ofhis interpreter, and told them that his heart was broken, and why. Angry words were uttered, and tomahawks and guns were freely handled, while he described the tragic scene. Feeling so utterly miserable thathe little cared whether they killed him or let him live, there he satdown on the ground in their midst, and awaited their decision. Some ofthe hot-headed spirits were for killing him at once; but wiser counselsprevailed, and it was decided that he must be adopted into the familyfrom which he had shot the son, and be all to them, as far as possible, that their son had been. This had been a good deal. Becoming aChristian had made him kind and loving, and so all that he could spareof his wages, earned while interpreting for Mr Evans, had beenfaithfully sent to his parents. The ceremony of adoption lasted severaldays. Mr Evans assumed as his Indian name that of this family, and agood son indeed they found in him. 

When he left to return to his Mission they kissed him, and acted towardshim with as much affection as such people can show. Many were the giftswhich were sent them by their adopted son, who took good care of them aslong as he lived. 

But while this difficulty was thus tided over, the memory of it neverfaded away from Mr Evans. He was never the same man after. Yet he didnot allow it to deter him from the most vigorous prosecution of hiswork: indeed, it seemed to his people as though he tried to bury hissorrow in incessant toil, and labours so abundant, that but few even ofthe Indians "in journeyings oft" could equal him. 

To aid the further prosecution of his labours, and to excite greaterinterest in the well-being of the Red Indians of British North America, Mr Evans went to England to speak about his work and its needs. Hisstory of marvellous incidents and varied experiences in this land ofwhich so little was known, produced a deep impression, and great crowdscame out to hear him, and insisted on his continuing at great length hiswonderful descriptions of travelling by canoe and dog-train, and thelonging desire there was in the hearts of the Indians for the Gospel. 

On November 23rd, 1846, after having spoken at Keelby in Lincolnshire, he returned with his wife, who was in every respect a devoted helpmatefor such a work, to the home of the gentleman and lady with whom theywere stopping. While chatting on various subjects, Mrs Evans turned toher husband, who was comfortably seated in a large arm-chair, and said, "My dear, I have had such a strange presentiment--that we shall neversee Norway House and our faithful Indians again. " He turned to her andsaid, with something of his old enthusiasm, "Why should that thoughttrouble you, my dear? Heaven is just as near from England as fromAmerica. "

The two ladies said, "Good night!" and retired, leaving Mr Evans andthe gentleman of the house to chat together a little longer. Shortlyafter, the gentleman said something to Mr Evans, and, receiving noanswer, he turned from the fire and looked at him. At first he thoughthe had fallen asleep, but this was only for an instant. Springing upand going to him, he found that the immortal spirit had so quietly andgently flitted away, that there had not been the slightest sob or cry. The noble Indian Missionary was dead. The eloquent tongue was hushedfor ever. For his return hundreds of anxious weeping Indians in thosenorthern wilds would long and wait, but wait in vain. He had beenconveyed by angel bands to that innumerable company of redeemed, blood-washed saints around the throne of God, which even then had receivedmany happy converted Indians, who, brought to God by hisinstrumentality, had finished their course with joy, and before him hadentered in through the gates into the city, and were there to welcomehim. 

Hundreds, since then, of his spiritual children have had the "abundantentrance ministered unto" them, and they have joined him in that rapidlyincreasing throng. And although many years have passed away since hepreached to them his last sermon, at many a camp-fire, and in many awigwam, still linger old men, and women too, whose eyes glisten, andthen become bedimmed with tears, as they think of him who so long agowent on before. But while they weep, they also rejoice that thatsalvation, which, as the result of his preaching, they accepted, isstill their solace and their joy, and, clinging to it and its greatAuthor, they shall by-and-by meet their Missionary and loved ones whohave finished their course and gained the eternal shores. 

On the previous page are the Syllabic Characters, as invented by MrEvans; and on this we give the Lord's Prayer in Cree, as printed inthem. 

Perhaps the following explanations will help the student who may have awish to master this wonderful invention. 

In the Alphabet the first line of characters, the equilateral trianglein four positions, reads as follows, a e oo ah. 

The addition of the little dot, as seen in the second line, adds to anycharacter after which it is placed the sound of w. So this second linereads wa, we, woo, wah. 

The following lines read thus: pa pe poo pah; ta te too tah; ka ke kookah; cha che choo chah; ma mee moo mah; na ne noo nah; sa se soo sah; yaye yoo yah. 

With a little patience the Lord's Prayer can be read even without ateacher. 

I have gone to a pagan band far away in the northern wilderness, andafter they have become willing to receive the truth, I have commenced toteach them to read the Word of God. Very limited indeed were ourappliances, for we were hundreds of miles from the nearest school house. But from the camp-fire, where we had cooked our bear's meat or beaver, I would take a burnt stick, and with it make these Syllabic Characterson the side of a rock, and then patiently repeat them over and overagain with my school of often three generations of Indians together, until they had some idea of them. Then I would give them the copies ofthe Bible I had brought, and at the first verse of Genesis we wouldbegin. It paid for the hardships of the trip a thousandfold to see thelooks of joy and delight on their faces as they themselves were able toread that wonderful verse. 

By Canoe and Dog-Train--by Egerton Ryerson Young

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

SOWING AND REAPING--BEAUTIFUL INCIDENT--"HELP ME TO BE A CHRISTIAN!"--THIRTY YEARS BETWEEN THE SOWING AND THE REAPING--SORROWING, YETSTUBBORN, INDIANS INDUCED TO YIELD BY THE EXPRESSION, "I KNOW WHERE YOURCHILDREN ARE!"

While in our every-day missionary life there were dark hours, and timeswhen our faith was severely tried, there was, on the other hand, much toencourage us to persevere in the blessed work among these Cree Indians. 

An incident that occurred to us brought up very forcibly to our mindsthe couplet:

 "Whate'er may die and be forgot, Work done for God, it dieth not. "

I was sitting, one pleasant day in June, in my study at Norway House, absorbed in my work, when I was startled by a loud "Ahem!" behind me. Iquickly sprang up, and, turning round, discovered that the man who hadthus suddenly interrupted me in my thoughts was a big, stalwart Indian. He had come into the room in that catlike way in which nearly all of theIndians move. Their moccasined feet make no sound, and so it is quitepossible for even scores of them to come into the house unheard. Then, as Indians have a great dislike to knocking, they generally omit italtogether, and unceremoniously enter, as this man had done, and asquietly as possible. 

My first glance at him told me that he was an entire stranger, althoughI had by this time become acquainted with some hundreds of the natives. I shook hands with him and said a few commonplace things to him, towhich I thought he paid but little heed. 

I pointed to a chair, and asked him to be seated; but, instead of doingso, he came up close to me and said with great earnestness: "Missionary, will you help me to be a Christian?"

Surprised and pleased by this abrupt question, I replied, "Certainly Iwill; that is my business here. "

"Will you help my wife and children also to become Christians?" he addedwith equal emphasis. 

"Of course I will, " I answered again. "It was for just such work asthat my good wife and I came from our far-away home to live in thisland. "

Naturally I had already become very much interested in this big, bronzedIndian; and so I said to him, "Tell me who you are, and from what placeyou have come. "

I made him sit down before me, and he told me the following remarkablestory. I wish I could put into the narrative his pathos and hisdramatic action. He did not keep his seat very long after he begantalking, but moved around, and at times was very much excited. Hesaid, --

"Many years ago, when I was a little boy, I was kindly cared for by thefirst Missionary, Mr Evans. I was a poor orphan. My father and motherhad died, leaving none to care for me; so the good Missionary took me tohis own house and was very kind to me. 'Tis true I had some relatives, but they were not Christians and so there was not much love in theirhearts towards a poor orphan boy. So Mr Evans took me to his house, and was very kind to me. He gave me clothes and food, and a home. Hetaught me to read the new letters he had made for our people, and toldme much about the Great Spirit and His Son Jesus. He taught me andother children to pray to God, and he often talked to us about Him, andhow kind and good He was. He kept me with him two or three years, and Iwas very well off indeed in having such a home and such a friend, if Ihad only known it. 

"One summer, among the many Indians who came to trade their furs at theCompany's store, was one family who lived very far away. They seemed totake a liking to me, and often would talk to me. They had no littleboy, they said, in their wigwam, and they told me a lot of foolish stuffabout how much happier I would be, if I lived with them, than I washere, where I had to obey the white man. Like the foolish child that Iwas, I listened to this nonsense, and one night, when they had goteverything ready to start, I slipped quietly out of the house and joinedthem. We paddled hard most of the night, for we felt that we had donewrong, and did not know but we should be followed. 

"After travelling many days we reached their hunting grounds andwigwams. I did not find it as pleasant as they had told me it would be. Often they were very cruel to me, and sometimes we did not have much toeat. But I dared not run away, for there was no place to which I couldgo, except to other wicked Indians; and they would only make thingsworse. They were all very bad Indians, and very much afraid of themedicine men. All the worship they did was to the bad spirit. Theywere afraid of him, and so they worshipped him, so that he might not dothem much harm. I became as bad as any of them. I tried to forget allthat the good Missionary had told me. I tried to wipe all his teachingsand prayers from my memory. All he had told me about the Good Spiritand His Son I tried to forget. 

"I grew up to be a man. I had become a wicked pagan; but I was a goodhunter, and one of the men sold me one of his daughters to be my wife. We have quite a family. Because I had seen, when I was a little boy, how Christian Indian men treat the women better than the pagan Indianstreat theirs, I treated my wife and children well. I was never cruel tothem. I love my wife and children. 

"Last winter, you remember, the snow was very deep. I had taken myfamily and gone out into the region of deer and other animals, and therehad made my hunting lodge for the winter. There we set our traps forthe fur-bearing animals. We took a good many of the smaller animalsthat have got furs, but the larger ones, that are good for food, werevery few. We had a hard time, as food was very scarce. I could notfind any deer to shoot, and we had come far from the great lakes andrivers, and so had no fish. 

"At length it seemed as though we must starve. I tried hard to getsomething, but I seemed to fail every time. Sometimes, when I didmanage to get within range of the moose or reindeer, and I fired, mygun, which is only a flintlock, would only flash the powder in the pan, and so the charge would not go off. The noise, however, had sofrightened the deer that he had rushed away before I could get ready tofire again. 

"At length it got so bad with us that I became completely discouraged, and I said, `I will only try once more; and if I do not succeed inshooting a deer, I will shoot myself. ' So I took up my gun and hurriedinto the forest away from my half-starved family. I cautiously trampedalong on my snowshoes all the first day, and did not see even a track. I made a little camp and lay down cold and hungry. I hunted all thenext day and only got a rabbit. This I ate in the little camp I madethe second night in the snow. On the third day I hunted until aboutnoon. Then feeling very weak and hungry, I got so discouraged that Isaid, as I sat down on a log covered with snow, `I will die here. I amweak with hunger, I can go no further. ' I was cross and angry, and Isaid, as I talked to myself, `No use trying any more. ' Then I loaded mygun with a heavy charge of powder and two bullets, and, drawing back thetrigger, my plan was to put the muzzle of the gun against the side of myhead, and then press on the trigger with my big toe, which, you know, moves easily in the moccasin. Just as I was getting ready thus to killmyself, something seemed to speak to me, `William!' I pushed the gunaway, for I was frightened. I looked all around, but could not seeanybody. Then I found that the voice was in me, and it began to talk tome out of my heart; and as I listened it seemed to say, `William, do younot remember what the Missionary told you long ago about the GreatSpirit? He said He was kind and forgiving, and that even if we didwander far away from him, if we became sorry and would come back, Hewould forgive. Do you not remember, William, he said that if we evergot into great trouble, the Great Spirit was the best Friend to Whom togo to help us out? You are in great trouble, William. Don't you thinkyou had better come back to him?'

"But I trembled and hesitated, for I was ashamed to come. I thoughtover my life, how I had run away from the kind Missionary who had takenme, a poor orphan boy, into his home, and fed and clothed me, and taughtme so much about the true way. Then I remembered so well how I hadtried to wipe out from my memory all I had learned about the GreatSpirit and His Son, and the good Book. I had denied to the pagan peoplethat I knew anything about the white man's religion. I had been verybad, and had got very far away; how could I come back? Still all theanswer I got was, `You had better come back. '

"There I sat and trembled, and I felt I was too mean to come back. Butall the answer I got was, `It is meaner to stay away, if what theMissionary said is true. ' While I was hesitating what to do, and alltrembling in the cold, I seemed to hear my wife and children in thewigwam far away crying for food. This decided me. So I turned round, and kneeled down in the snow by the log, and began to pray. I hardlyknow what I said, but I do remember I asked the Great Spirit to forgivethe poor Indian who had got so far away from Him, and had been sowicked, and had tried to wipe Him out of his memory. I told him I wassorry, and wanted to do better; and there in the snow I promised, if Hewould forgive and help me in my trouble, and give something for my wifeand children to eat, I would, just as soon as the snow and ice left therivers and lakes, go and find the Missionary, and ask him to help me tobe a Christian. 

"While I prayed I felt better; I seemed to feel in my heart that helpwas coming. I got up from my knees, and it seemed as though that prayerhad strengthened me like food. I forgot I was cold and hungry. I tookup my gun with a glad heart, and away I started; and I had not gone farbefore a large reindeer came dashing along. I fired and killed him. Iwas very glad. I quickly skinned him, and I soon made a fire and cookedsome of the meat. Then I pulled down a small tree, and fastened part ofthe meat into the top of it, and let it swing up again, so as to keep itfrom the wolves and wolverines. Then I took the rest on my back andhurried home to my hungry wife and children. Soon after I went back forthe rest of the venison, and found it all right. 

"Since that hour we have always had something. I have hunted hard, andhave had success. None of us have been hungry since. The Great Spirithas been all that the Missionary said He would be to us. He has caredfor us, and given us all that we have needed. 

"I have not forgotten my promise made while kneeling in the snow besidethe log in the woods. The snow has gone, and the ice has left the lakesand rivers. I have launched my canoe, and have come with my wife andchildren to ask you to help us to be Christians. "

We were very much pleased to hear such a wonderful experience, which wasthus leading him back to God; and we told him so. When we learned thatall this time he had been talking, his wife and children were patientlysitting in the canoe outside at the shore, we hurried out with him andbrought them into the Mission House. 

Mrs Young, and one or two others, attracted by William's earnest words, had come into my study, and had heard most of his story, and of coursewere also deeply interested. Out of our scant supplies we gave thewhole family a good hearty meal, and we both did what we could by wordsand actions to make them feel that we were their friends, and would doall we could to help them to be Christians. We were delighted to findthat since that memorable day when at the snow-covered log in the forestWilliam had bowed in prayer, he had been diligent in teaching his familyall that he could remember of the blessed truths of the Gospel. Theyhad gladly received it and were eager for more. 

I called together some of the head men of the village, and told them thestory of this family, and what William had said about his early life. Afew of the older people remembered the circumstance of his adoption byMr Evans after the death of his parents, whom they remembered well. Happy Christians themselves, and anxious that others should enjoy thesame blessedness, they rejoiced at William's return, and especially withsuch a desire in his heart. So they at once gave the exile a placeamong themselves, and some needed help. Thorough and genuine were thechanges wrought in the hearts of that family by Divine grace, and theyhave remained firm and true. In their house was a family altar, andfrom the church services they were never absent, unless far off indistant hunting grounds. 

Various were the arguments which the Good Spirit gave us to use inpersuading men and women to be reconciled to God. Here is a beautifulillustration:--

"WHERE ARE OUR CHILDREN?"

On the banks of a wild river, about sixty miles from Beaver Lake, Ivisited a band of pagan Indians, who seemed determined to resist everyappeal or entreaty I could make to induce them to listen to my words. They were so dead and indifferent that I was for a time quitedisheartened. The journey to reach them had taken about eight days fromhome through the dreary wilderness, where we had not met a single humanbeing. My two faithful canoemen and I had suffered much from thecharacter of the route, and the absence of game, which had caused usmore than once to wrap ourselves up in our blankets and lie downsupperless upon the granite rocks, and try to sleep. The rain hadfallen upon us so persistently that for days the water had been drippingfrom us, and we had longed for the sunshine that we might get dry again. 

We had met with some strange adventures, and I had had anotheropportunity for observing the intelligence and shrewdness of my men, andtheir quickness in arriving at right conclusions from very little data. Many think of the Indians as savages and uncivilised, yet in somerespects they are highly educated, and are gifted with a quickness ofperception not excelled by any other people in the world. We had thefollowing illustration of it on this trip. 

As most of the Indians had gone away in the brigades to York Factory, tocarry down the furs and to freight up the goods for the next winter'strade, I could not find any canoemen who were acquainted with the routeto the pagan band which I wished to visit. The best I could do was tosecure the services of a man as a guide who had only been as far asBeaver Lake. He was willing to go and run the risk of finding theIndian band, if possible, although so far beyond the most northern pointhe had ever gone before. As I could do no better I hired him andanother Indian, and away we went. 

After several days of hard work--for the portages around the falls andrapids were many, and several times we had to wade through muskegs ormorasses up to our knees for miles together, carrying all our load onour heads or backs--we at length reached Beaver Lake. Here we campedfor the night and talked over our future movements. We had come twohundred and forty miles through these northern wilds, and yet had aboutsixty miles to go ere we expected to see human beings, and were allabsolutely ignorant of the direction in which to go. 

We spent the night on the shore of the lake, and slept comfortably onthe smooth rocks. Early the next morning we began to look out for signsto guide us on our way. There were several high hills in the vicinity, and it was decided that we should each ascend one of these, and see iffrom these elevated positions the curling smoke from some distant Indiancamp-fire, or other signs of human beings, could be observed. 

Seizing my rifle, I started off to ascend the high hill which had beenassigned me, while my Indians went off in other directions. This hillwas perhaps half a mile from our camp-fire, and I was soon at its foot, ready to push my way up through the tangled underbrush that grew sodensely on its sides. To my surprise I came almost suddenly upon acreek of rare crystal beauty, on the banks of which were manyimpressions of hoofs, large and small, as though a herd of cattle hadthere been drinking. Thoughtlessly, for I seemed to have forgottenwhere we were, I came to the conclusion that as the herd of cattle hadthere quenched their thirst, they and their owner must be near. So Ihurried back to the camp, and signalled to the men to return, and toldthem what I had seen. There was an amused look on their faces, but theywere very polite and courteous men, and so they accompanied me to thecreek, where, with a good deal of pride, I pointed out to them thefootprints of cattle, and stated that I thought that they and theirowners could not be far off. They listened to me patiently, and thenmade me feel extremely foolish by uttering the word "Moose. " I hadmistaken the footprints of a herd of moose for a drove of cattle, muchto their quiet amusement. 

We looked around for a time, and, getting no clue, we embarked in ourcanoe, and started to explore the different streams that flowed into orout of this picturesque lake. After several hours of unsuccessful workwe entered into the mouth of quite a fine river, and began paddling upit, keeping close to one of its sandy shores. Suddenly one of myIndians sprang up in the canoe, and began carefully examining some smalltracks on the shore. A few hasty words were uttered by the men, andthen we landed. 

They closely inspected these little footprints, and then exclaimed, "Wehave got it now, Missionary; we can take you soon to the Indians!"

"What have you discovered?" I said. "I see nothing to tell me wherethe Indians are. "

"We see it very plain, " was the reply. "You sent word that you werecoming to meet them this moon. They have been scattered hunting, butare gathering at the place appointed, and a canoe of them went up thisriver yesterday, and the dog ran along the shore, and these are histracks. "

I examined these impressions in the sand, and said, "The country is fullof wild animals; these may be the tracks of a wolf or wolverine or someother beast. "

They only laughed at me, and said, "We can see a great differencebetween these tracks and those made by the wild animals. "

Our canoe was soon afloat again, and, using our paddles vigorously, wesped rapidly along the river. With no other clue than those littlefootprints in the sand my men confidently pushed along. After paddlingfor about twenty miles we came to the camp-fire, still smouldering, where the Indians had slept the night before. Here we cooked ourdinner, and then hurried on, still guided by the little tracks along theshore. Towards evening we reached the encampment, just as my canoemenhad intimated we should. 

The welcome we received was not very cordial. The Indians were souredand saddened by having lost many of their number, principally children, by scarlet fever, which for the first time had visited their country, and which had been undoubtedly brought into their land by some free-traders the year before. With the exception of an old conjurer or two, none openly opposed me, but the sullen apathy of the people made it verydiscouraging work to try to preach or teach. However, we did the bestwe could, and were resolved that, having come so far, and suffered somany hardships to reach them, we would faithfully deliver the message, and leave the results to Him Who had permitted us to be the first whohad ever visited that Land to tell the story of redeeming love. 

One cold, rainy day a large number of us were crowded into the largestwigwam for a talk about the truths in the great Book. My two faithfulChristian companions aided me all they could by giving personaltestimony to the blessedness of this great salvation. But all seemed invain. There the people sat and smoked in sullen indifference. Whenquestioned as to their wishes and determinations, all I could get fromthem was, "As our fathers lived and died, so will we. "

Tired out and sad of heart, I sat down in quiet communion with theBlessed Spirit, and breathed up a prayer for guidance and help in thishour of sore perplexity. In my extremity the needed assistance came soconsciously that I almost exulted in the assurance of coming victory. Springing up, I shouted out, "I know where all your children are, whoare not among the living! I know, yes, I do know most certainly whereall the children are, whom Death has taken in his cold grasp from amongus, the children of the good and of the bad, of the whites and of theIndians, I know where all the children are. "

Great indeed was the excitement among them. Some of them had had theirfaces well shrouded in their blankets as they sat like upright mummiesin the crowded wigwam. But when I uttered these words, they quicklyuncovered their faces, and manifested the most intense interest. Seeingthat I had at length got their attention, I went on with my words: "Yes, I know where all the children are. They have gone from your camp-firesand wigwams. The hammocks are empty, and the little bows and arrows lieidle. Many of your hearts are sad, as you mourn for those little oneswhose voices you hear not, and who come not at your call. I am so gladthat the Great Spirit gives me authority to tell you that you may meetyour children again, and be happy with them for ever. But you mustlisten to His words, which I bring to you from His great Book, and giveHim your hearts, and love and serve Him. There is only one way to thatbeautiful land, where Jesus, the Son of the Great Spirit, has gone, andinto which He takes all the children who have died; and now that youhave heard His message and seen His Book, you too must come this way, ifyou would be happy and there enter in. "

While I was thus speaking, a big, stalwart man from the other side ofthe tent sprang up, and rushed towards me. Beating on his breast, hesaid, "Missionary, my heart is empty, and I mourn much, for none of mychildren are left among the living; very lonely is my wigwam. I long tosee my children again, and to clasp them in my arms. Tell me, Missionary, what must I do to please the Great Spirit, that I may get tothat beautiful land, that I may meet my children again?" Then he sankat my feet upon the ground, his eyes suffused with tears, and wasquickly joined by others, who, like him, were broken down with grief, and were anxious now for religious instruction. 

To the blessed Book we went, and after reading what Jesus had said aboutlittle children, and giving them some glimpses of His great love forthem, we told them "the old, old story, " as simply and lovingly as wecould. There was no more scoffing or indifference. Every word washeard and pondered over, and from that hour a blessed work began, whichresulted in the great majority of them deciding to give their hearts toGod; and they have been true to their vows. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

ON THE TRAIL TO SANDY BAR--SLEEPING ON THE ICE--THIEVISH ESQUIMAUXDOGS--NARROW ESCAPE OF JACK--JOYOUS WELCOME--SOCIETY FORMED--BENJAMINCAMERON, ONCE A CANNIBAL, NOW A LAY HELPER--PLUM-PUDDING--A STRIKINGINSTANCE OF HONESTY. 

In December, 1877, I made a journey to the Indians living at Sandy Bar. As there were some experiences quite different from those of othertrips, they shall here be recorded. 

Sandy Bar, or White Mud, as some call it, is over a hundred miles southof Beren's River, where we then resided. We made the usual preparationsfor our journey, getting sleds loaded with supplies for ourselves andfish for our dogs, with all the cooking arrangements necessary for amonth's absence from home. 

As the people among whom we were going were poor, we ever felt that, Paul-like, for the furtherance of the Gospel, the wisest course amongthose bands who had not fully accepted salvation was to keep ourselvesas far as possible from being burdensome unto them. So my good wifecooked a generous supply of meat and buns, made as rich with fat aspossible. Fortunate indeed were we in having supplies sufficient forthis to be done. It was not always so. At this very Mission, all wehad one morning for breakfast was a hind-quarter of a wild cat!

All our preparations were completed, and we were ready to start at oneo'clock in the morning. To our great regret a fierce storm arose, andso we were obliged to wait until the day dawned, ere we could harnessour dogs and venture out. When we had gone about twenty miles, thestorm swept with such power over the great Lake Winnipeg, driving therecently fallen snow before it, with such a stinging, blinding effect, that we were forced to give up the struggle, and run into the forest andcamp. 

We cleared away the snow from a space about eight feet square. At oneside of this we built up our fire, and over the rest of the clearedspace we spread some evergreen boughs, on which we placed our beds. Weunharnessed our dogs, and thawed out for them some frozen fish. As thiswas one of my short trips, I had with me but two dog-trains and two goodIndians. We melted snow in our kettles, and made tea, and cooked somemeat. This, with the bread, of which we were on this trip the happypossessors, constituted our meals. About sundown we had prayers, andthen, as we had been up most of the previous night, we wrapped ourselvesin our robes and blankets, and went to sleep to the lullaby of thehowling tempest. 

About ten o'clock that night I woke up, and, uncovering my head, foundthat the storm had ceased. I sprang up and kindled the fire, but myfingers ached and my body shivered ere I succeeded in getting it toblaze brightly. I filled the tea-kettle with snow, and while it wasmelting I called up my two travelling companions, and also a couple ofyoung natives, who, with their dog-trains, had joined us. The Indianscan tell with marvellous accuracy the hour of the night by the positionof the Great Bear in the heavens. This is their night clock. I saw bytheir puzzled looks, as they gazed at the stars, that they wanted totell me I had made a great mistake, if I thought it was near morning. But I did not give them the opportunity, and only hurried up thebreakfast. After prayers we harnessed our dogs, tied up our loads ofbedding, food, kettles, and other things; and then, throwing the boughson which we had slept on the fire, by the light which it afforded us, wewended our way out through the forest gloom to the frozen lake. 

Taking the lead with my own splendid dogs, we travelled at such a ratethat, ere the sun rose up to cheer us, over forty miles of Winnipeg'sicy expanse lay between us and the snowy bed where we had sought shelterand slept during the raging storm. After stopping at Dog's Head, wherewere a few Indians, under the eccentric chief, Thickfoot, onward wetravelled, crossing the lake to what is called Bull's Head, where wecamped for the night. The face of the cliff is here so steep that wecould not get our heavy loads up into the forest above, so we wereobliged to make our fire and bed in the snowdrift at the base of thecliff. It was a poor place indeed. The snow, from the constantdrifting in from the lake, was very deep. There was no shelter orscreen from the fierce cold wind, which, changing during the night, blewupon us. We tried to build up the fire, but, owing to our peculiarposition, could not change it. In the woods, at our camps, we build thefire where the smoke will be driven from us. If the wind changes, wechange our fires. Here at the base of this cliff we could do nothing ofthe kind; the result was, we were either shivering in the bitter cold, or blinded by the smoke. 

While in this uncomfortable plight, and trying to arrange our camp bedson the snow, for we could not get any balsam boughs here to put underus, we were joined by several wild Indians, who, coming down the lake, saw our camp-fire. They had a number of thin, wild, wolfish, half-starved Esquimaux dogs with them. They made a great fuss over me, whichhere meant so much tea and food. I treated them kindly, and, fearingfor our supplies, and even our dog harness, and the other things forwhich the terrible Esquimaux dog has such an appetite, I politelyinformed them that I thought they would be more comfortable if theytravelled on a little further. This hint was met with loudprotestations that they could not, under any circumstances, think ofdenying themselves the pleasure of at least stopping one night in thecamp of the Missionary, about whom they had heard so much as the greatfriend of the Indian. 

Of course I could not go back on my record, or resist such diplomacy;but I saw trouble ahead, and I was not disappointed. In order to savesomething, I gave to their wolfish dogs all the fish I had, which wassufficient for my eight for several days. These the Esquimaux speedilydevoured. I made the men bring the dog harness into the camp, and withthe sleds, to save the straps and lashings, they built a littlebarricade against the wind. 

In addition to the food supplies for the trip, I had a bag of meat, andanother of buns, for my use when I should reach the village, where I wasgoing to preach and to teach. I gathered a pile of clubs, which I cutfrom the driftwood on the shore, from which we had also obtained thatfor our fire. Then, putting the bag of meat, which was frozen hard, under my pillow, and giving the bag of buns to one of my Indians, withorders to guard it carefully, I lay down and tried to go to sleep. Vaineffort indeed was it for a long time. No sooner were we down than inupon us swarmed the dogs. They fought for the honour of cleaning, indog fashion, our meat kettle, and then began seeking for something more. Over us they walked, and soon, by their gathering around my head, Iknew they had scented the meat. Up I sprang, and, vigorously using myclubs, a number of which I sent among them, I soon drove them out intothe darkness of the lake. Then under my robes again I got, but not tosleep. In less than ten minutes there was an _encore_, which wasrepeated several times. At length my supply of clubs gave out. My onlyconsolation was that the dogs had received so many of them that theyacted as though they were ready to cry quits and behave themselves. Asit looked as though they were settling down to rest, I gladly did thesame. Vain hope, indeed! I went to sleep very quickly, for I was veryweary, but I woke up in the morning to find that there was not an ounceof meat left in the bag under my head, nor a single bun left in the bagwhich the Indian had orders so carefully to guard. 

Our condition the next morning was not a very pleasant one. The outlookwas somewhat gloomy. Our camp was in an exposed snow-drift. We had noroof over us. The fire was a poor one, as the drift-wood with which itwas made was wretched stuff, giving out more smoke than heat, which, persisting in going the wrong way, often filled our eyes with blindingtears. Our generous supply of meat, that we so much require in thiscold climate, and our rich buns, so highly prized, were devoured by thedogs which, with the most innocent looks imaginable, sat around us inthe snow and watched our movements. Fortunately one of the Indians hadput a few plain biscuits in a small bag, which he was taking, as a greatgift, to a friend. These were brought out, and with our tea and sugarwere all we had, or could get, until we were sixty miles further south. No time for grumbling, so we prepared ourselves for the race against themarch of hunger, which we well knew, by some bitter experiences, would, after a few hours, rapidly gain upon us. 

After the light breakfast we knelt down in the snow and said ourprayers, and then hurried off. My gallant dogs responded to my callupon them so nobly that ere that short wintry day in December had fledaway, and the lake was shrouded in darkness, the flying sparks from thetops of the little cabins of the friendly Indians told us we hadconquered in the race, although not without some narrow escapes andscars. 

While crossing a long traverse of at least twenty-five miles, my largestdog, Jack, went through a crack in the ice up to his collar. These icecracks are dangerous things. The ice, which may be several feet thick, often bursts open with a loud report, making a fissure which may be froma few inches to several feet wide. Up this fissure the water rushesuntil it is level with the top. Of course, as the cold is so intense, it soon freezes over, but it is very dangerous for travellers to comealong soon after the fissure has been made. I have seen the guide getin more than once, and have had some very narrow escapes myself. Onthis occasion I was riding on the sled; the two foremost dogs of thetrain got across the thinly frozen ice all right, but Jack, who wasthird, broke though into the cold water below. The head dogs keptpulling ahead, and the sled dog did his work admirably, and so we savedthe noble St. Bernard from drowning, and soon got him out. The cold wasso intense that in a few minutes his glossy black coat was covered witha coat of icy mail. He seemed to know the danger he was in; and so, theinstant I got the sled across the ice crack, he started off direct forthe distant forest at such a rate that he seemed to drag the other dogsas well as myself most of the time. We were about twelve miles from theshore, but in a little more than an hour the land was reached, and asthere was abundance of dry wood here, a good fire was soon kindled, before which, on a buffalo skin, I placed my ice-covered companion. Heturned himself around when necessary, and, ere the other sled arrived, Jack was himself again. As two of the Indians behind us had fallen intothis same fissure, we were delayed for some time in getting them dryagain. 

We boiled our kettle and had some more tea, and then on we hurried. Imet with a very warm welcome from the people. The greater part of themwere Indians I had met in other years. Many were from Norway House. Tothis place they had come, attracted by the stories of its valuablefisheries and productive soil. So rapidly had the Mission at NorwayHouse increased that fish and game were beginning to fail. Hence alarge number emigrated to this and other places. 

To this place they had come late in the summer, and so the little housesthey had built were small and cold. Then, to make matters worse, thefisheries had not proved to be what they had been represented. Theycrowded round me as I drove into their village, and told me of their"hungerings oft, " and other hardships. As some sleds were ready tostart for Manitoba, I hurried into one of the little homes to pencil anote to my Chairman, the Reverend George Young, but found it to bealmost an impossibility, as the four fingers of my right hand werefrozen. These, and a frozen nose, reminded me for several days of thatsixty miles' run on short rations. 

I found, in addition to the Christian Indians, quite a number of otherswho had been attracted to this place. I spent eight days among them. They had about a dozen little houses, in addition to a large number ofwigwams. For their supplies they were depending on their rabbit snares, and their nets for fish, which were obtained in but limited quantities. As my food had been stolen from me by the dogs, I had nothing but whatthey gave me; but of their best they supplied me most cheerfully, and soI breakfasted, dined, and supped on rabbit or fish, and fared well. 

I preached, as was my custom, three times a day, and kept school betweenthe services. I organised a class or society of thirty-five members, ten of whom for the first time now decided for Christ, and resolvedhenceforth to be His loyal followers. It was a great joy to begathering in those decided ones, as the result of the seed sown amidstthe discouragements of earlier years. I was very fortunate in securinga good leader, or spiritual overseer, for this little flock in thewilderness. Benjamin Cameron was his name. He had had a strangecareer. He had been a cannibal in his day, but Divine Grace had gonedown into the depths of sin into which he had sunk, and had lifted himout, and put his feet upon the Rock, and filled his lips with singing, and his heart with praise. He was emphatically "a good man, and full ofthe Holy Ghost. "

The hours I spent with the children were very pleasant and profitable. I was pleased to hear the elder children read so well, and wasespecially delighted with their knowledge of the Catechism in both Creeand English. I distributed a fresh supply of books which I had broughtthem, and also gave to the needy ones some warm, comfortable garmentssent by loving friends from Montreal. 

If the dear friends, into whose hearts the good desire to send thesevery comfortable garments had been put, could only have seen how muchmisery was relieved, and happiness conferred, they would have felt amplyrewarded for their gifts. 

In connection with one of the Sunday services I administered theSacrament of the Lord's Supper. We had a most solemn and impressive yetdelightful time. The Loving Saviour seemed very near, and fresh vowsand covenants were entered into by all, that to Him they would be true. 

I spent Christmas among them, and as one of them had succeeded ingetting some minks in his traps, and for the skins had obtained fromsome passing "free-traders" some flour and plums, they got up, in honourof my visit, a plum-pudding. It haunts me yet, and so I will not heredescribe it. 

As beautiful weather favoured us on our return, we took the straightroute home, and arrived there in two days, rejoicing that the trip, asregarded its spiritual aspects, had been a great success. 

One day an Indian came into my house and threw down a fine haunch ofvenison upon the table. As we were poorly off for food, I was very muchpleased, and said to him, "What shall I give you for this meat?"

"Nothing, " he replied; "it belongs to you. "

"You must be mistaken, " I said. "I never had any dealings with you. "

"But I had with you, " he answered. "And so this meat is yours. "

Being unacquainted with the man, I asked him to tell me who he was, andhow he made it out that this meat belonged to me. 

Said he, "Did you not go to Nelson River with dogs and Indians about twomoons ago?"

"Yes, " I replied, "I did. "

"Well, I was out hunting deer, but I did not have much luck. The snowwas deep, the deer were very shy, and I had no success. One day, whenvery hungry, for I had only taken a little dried rabbit meat with mefrom my wigwam, I came across your trail, and I found where your Indianshad made a _cache_, that is, a big bundle of provisions and other thingshad been tied up in a blanket, and then a small tree had been bent downby your men, and the bundle fastened on the top, and let spring up againto keep it from the wolves. I saw your bundle hanging there, and as Iwas very hungry I thought, `Now if the kind-hearted Missionary only knewthe poor Indian hunter was here looking at his bundle of food, he wouldsay, "Help yourself;"' and that was what I did. I bent down the tree, and found the large piece of pemmican. I cut off a piece big enough tomake me a good dinner, then I tied up the bundle again, and let it swingup as you had it. And now I have brought you this venison in place ofwhat I took. "

I was pleased with his honesty, and had in the incident another exampleof the Indian quickness to read much where the white man sees nothing. 

The reason why we had made the _cache_ which the Indian had discoveredwas, that we had taken a large quantity of pemmican for our food, as thepeople we wore going to see were poor, and we did not wish to be aburden to them; but we had been caught in a terrible storm, and as thesnow was very deep, making the travelling heavy, we were obliged tolighten our loads as soon as possible. So we left a portion, as theIndian has described, on the way. 

When we returned to the _cache_, and my men pulled it down and openedthe bundle, one of them quickly cried out, "Somebody has been at our_cache_. "

"Nonsense, " I replied; "nobody would disturb it. And then there were notracks around when we reached here to-night. "

Looking at the largest piece of pemmican, the Indians said, "Missionary, somebody has taken down our bundle and cut off a piece just here. Thatthere are no tracks, is because there have been so many snow-stormslately. All tracks made a few days ago are covered up. "

As I knew they were so much quicker along these lines of education thanwhite men, I did not argue any more with them. The coming of the oldhunter with the venison was the proof of the cleverness of my men, andalso a very honourable act on his part. I kept the old man to dinner, and among other things I asked him how he knew it was the Missionary'sparty that passed that way. He quickly replied, "By your tracks in thesnow. Indians' toes turn in when they walk, white men's toes turn out. "

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

AN INDIAN LOVEFEAST--MANY WITNESSES--SWEET SONGS OF ZION--THE LORD'SSUPPER--MEMOIR OF WILLIAM MEMOTAS, THE DEVOTED CHRISTIAN. 

Our Lovefeasts and sacramental services were always well attended, if itwere within the range of possibility for the Indians to be present. Tocome in on Saturday from their distant hunting grounds sixty miles away, that they might enjoy the services of the Lord's house on His own day, was no unusual thing. Then on Monday morning we have seen them againstrap on their snowshoes, and with glad hearts and renewed zeal startoff to return to their lonely hunting camps in the distant forests. 

They are able to express themselves clearly, and often quite eloquently. When their hearts are full of the love of God, and they are rejoicingin the blessed assurance of the Divine favour, they are willing to speakabout it. 

 "What they have felt and seen With confidence they tell. "

Here are some of their testimonies. Those are the living words of menand women who were once the slaves of a debasing paganism. But on theirhearts the blessed Spirit shone, and to His pleading voice theyresponded, and now, happy in the consciousness that they are thechildren of God, they love to talk about what wonderful things have beendone for them and wrought in them. Timothy Bear said:

"It is such a joy to me, that I can tell you of great things done forme. Great is the joy I have in my heart to-day. I rest in theconsciousness that He is my own reconciled Heavenly Father, and so Ifeel it good to be here in the Lord's house, and with those that loveHim. The good Spirit gives me to see how good and kind my heavenlyFather is; and so I can say that the greatest anxiety of my heart andlife is to serve God better and better as I grow older. To do this Ihave found out that I must have Divine help. But He is my Helper foreverything, and so I need not fail. So I am encouraged that I shalllove God more and more, and, with that, I want to love His cause andpeople, and those who have not yet become His people, that they may soondo so, more and more. For the conversion of the unsaved, let us, whofeel that Jesus saves us, pray more earnestly than ever, and may Godhelp us to live our religion, that the heathen around us may see in ourlives what a wonderful thing it is. "

Timothy's burning words produced a deep impression, and some one beganto sing:

 "Ayume-oo-we-nah, "

 "The praying Spirit breathe. "

Half a dozen were on their feet when the verses were sung, but ThomasWalker spoke first. He said:

"When I first heard the Gospel long winters ago, as brought to us by MrEvans, I was soon convinced that I was a sinner and needed forgiveness. I found I could not of myself get rid of my sins, so I believed inChrist, and found that He had power to forgive. I was very wretchedbefore I was forgiven. I was afraid I should be lost for ever. Imourned and wept before God on account of my sins. In the woods alone, I cried in my troubles, and was in deep distress. But I heard of thelove and power, and willingness to save, of this Jesus of the greatBook, and so I exercised a living faith in Him; and as I believed, God'svoice was heard, saying, `My son, I have forgiven your sins; I haveblotted them out. Go in peace. ' I am sure I was not mistaken; I feltfilled with peace and joy. I felt that I, Thomas Walker, was cleansedfrom my many sins, and clothed with the garments of salvation. That wasa blessed day when the Spirit of God shone into my heart and drove outthe darkness. Since then, my way in Him has been like the sunlight onthe waters. The more waves, the more sunshine. I am happy in His loveto-day. I am confident that, because He aids me, I am growing in grace. 

"I rejoice at being spared to come to another celebration of the Lord'sSupper; and in view of partaking of the emblems of the dying, lovingJesus, I feel that my soul is feeding on Christ, the true Bread ofLife. "

Earnest yet suppressed words of praise and adoration quietly droppedfrom many lips as Thomas ended. Then dear old Henry Budd succeeded ingetting a hearing. Henry was Mr Evans' marvellous dog-driver overtwenty-five years before the date of this blessed lovefeast. He had hadmany wonderful adventures and some narrow escapes. Once, when runningahead on a treacherous river, where in places the current was veryrapid, and consequently the ice was thin, he broke through into thecurrent underneath. He quickly caught hold of the edge of the ice, butit was so weak it would not hold him up. His only comrade could not getvery near him as the ice was so bad, and so had to run about a mile fora rope. When he returned, so intense was the cold that both of Henry'shands, with which he had been holding on to the ice, were frozen. Hewas utterly unable to close them on the rope. George shouted to him toopen his mouth. The rope was then thrown, lasso-like, so skilfully, that the poor half-frozen man seized it in his teeth, and was thusdragged out, and rushed off to the nearest wigwam. He was literallysaved by the "skin of his teeth. "

Thus Henry Budd had, like many others, much for which to praise God. Hespoke on this occasion as follows:

"I rejoice in God my Saviour, Who has done such wonderful things for me. I feel very happy. I am His child. He is my reconciled Father. Howcan I help being happy?

"When I first began to get my poor blind eyes opened, and there came tome a desire to seek God, and to obtain salvation for my soul, I wastroubled on account of my sins. My many transgressions rose up beforeme like a cloud. I was ignorant, and so my mind was full of doubts andfears. Yet with all my doubts there was the anxious desire to be saved. But the victory came at last. I was enabled to hear enough about theAlmighty Friend, and so, as I had confidence in His power and love, andbelieved in Him, I was at last enabled to rejoice in the knowledge ofsins forgiven through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. From those saddoubts and fears I am now happily delivered. I feel I love God, andthat God loves me. I am growing in grace, and in the knowledge of Godmy Saviour. My hopes are brightening all the time. I am getting old, but not unhappy, for I am cheered with the blessed assurance of one daymeeting, in my Father's house in heaven, with many who are safely there, and many more who, like me, will soon enter in. That this may be ablessed certainty, I desire to be faithful unto the end, that no mantake my crown. "

When Henry sat down, before another one could be heard, the largecongregation were singing:--

 "Pe teh-na-mah-me cha-te yak Ke ehe ne-ka-mo-yak, " etc. 

 "O for a thousand tongues to sing My great Redeemer's praise. "

The next to get the floor was one of the sweetest, purest Christians itwas ever my lot to become acquainted with in any land. His name wasWilliam Memotas. He was a very happy Christian. As he was a LocalPreacher and a Class Leader, I was much in his society, and I can say, as many others have said, that William, since the day of his conversion, was never heard to utter an unkind word about any one, or do anythingthat could give the enemies of the Lord Jesus an opportunity to scoff athis profession of loving the Lord with all his heart. He was never avery strong man physically while we knew him, and so was unable to go onthe long tripping or hunting expeditions with him more vigorouscomrades. He suffered much from inward pain, but was ever bright andhopeful. When he stood up to add his testimony, the sick, pallid facecaused a wave of sympathy to pass over the audience, but his cheerywords quickly lifted the cloud, and we seemed to look through the opendoor into the celestial city, into which he was so soon to enter. Hisobituary, which I wrote at the time of his death, is added at the closeof this chapter. He said:--

"For many years I have now been walking in this way, and proving thisgreat salvation. It is a blessed way, and it is getting more delightfulall the time. Every day on it is a day's walk nearer Jesus. It is notlike the trails in our country, sometimes rocks, and then more oftenmuskegs and quaking bogs; but it is the solid rock all the time, and onit we may always be sure of our footing, and it leads us up to Him Whois the Rock of Ages. I am not now a strong man, as you know I once was. This poor weak body is like the old wigwam. It is breaking up. Aseach storm tears fresh rents in the old wigwam, so each attack ofdisease seems to tear me, and bring me nearer the time when what isimmortal of me shall slip away from the worn body into the everlastingbrightness of that land where the happy people never say, `I am sick. 'I am very glad and happy in the service of this Jesus, and will serveHim as long as He lends me health. But I do want to go home. I cannotdo much more here. Our Missionary, Mr Young, said to me, `William, don't talk so much about leaving us. How can we spare you?' I thankhim for his love and friendship, but there is another Friend I amgetting such a longing in my heart to see, and that is Jesus, mySaviour, my Redeemer. I am praying for patience, but by-and-by I shallbe with Him, with him for evermore. There I shall have no pain, and Iwill praise my Jesus for evermore. So, while waiting, I ask God to bewith me here, and to let me serve Him in some way every day. "

With suppressed emotion, for many eyes were full of tears, the peoplesang--

 "Tapwa meyoo ootaskewuk, Ispemik ayahchik, " etc. 

 "There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign. "

William was a sweet singer, and joined heartily with the rest in singingseveral verses of that grand old hymn. We had a presentiment that theend was not far off, but we little thought, as we looked into hisradiant face, and heard his clear scriptural testimony, and his longingsfor rest and heaven, that this was to be the last Lovefeast in which ourdear brother was to be with us. Ere another similar service was held, William Memotas had gone sweeping through the gates, washed in the bloodof the Lamb. 

James Cochrane, a Class Leader, said, --

"I have great reason to bless God for the privileges and mercies I havehad from him. I am so glad to be with you to-day in his house. I tryto arrange all my huntings and journeys so as to be present at all ofthese love-feasts and sacraments. Since I decided, many years ago, togive up paganism and become a Christian, I have never missed one ofthese meetings, though sometimes I have had to take several days andtravel hundreds of miles to get here. I only had to travel sixty mileson my snow-shoes to be here to-day. It has paid me well to come. Irejoice that God has enabled me to be faithful all these years since Istarted in His service. When I first began, I had a great many doubtsand fears. The way seemed very long ahead of me. I felt so weak and soprone to sin. It seemed impossible that such a weak, unworthy creatureas I could stand true and faithful; but trusting in God, and constantlyendeavouring to exercise a living faith in Christ, I have been kept tothis day, and I can say I realise a daily growth in grace. I ask God togive me His Holy Spirit to help me to follow Christ's example and tokeep all of God's commandments. May I, too, prove faithful. "

Mary Cook, a very old woman, who has had to endure persecution forChrist's sake, spoke next. She said:

"I am very glad to be here once more. I have many pagan relatives whohave no feeling of friendship towards me, because I am a follower ofJesus. But He is my Friend, so it is all right. I have been very sick, and thought that God was going to take me home to heaven. That thoughtmade me very happy in my sickness. My poor little room often seemedlight with the presence of my Lord. I love to dwell with God's people. It is my chief joy. I refused to go and live with my relatives in thewoods, even though I should be better off, because I love the house ofGod, and because I so love to worship with God's people. "

Mary Oig said:

"Very happy do I feel in my heart to-day. My heart is filled with hislove. I knew I love Him and his people; and His service is to me agreat delight. Once, like many others, I was in the great darkness, wandering in sin; but God sought me by His Holy Spirit, and convinced meof my lost condition, and shewed me Himself as my only Hope, and enabledme to rejoice in his pardoning mercy through faith in the Atonement. May God keep me faithful, that with you I may join around the Throneabove. "

Thomas Mamanowatum, generally known as "Big Tom, " on account of hisalmost gigantic size, was the next to speak. He is one of the best ofmen. I have used him to help me a good deal, and have ever found himone of the worthiest and truest assistants. His people all love andtrust him. He is perhaps the most influential Indian in the village. Tom said:

"I, too, desire to express my gratitude to God for His great blessingsand mercies to me. I am like David, who said, `Come, all ye who fearthe Lord, and I will tell you what He hath done for my soul. ' He hastaken me out of the pit of sin, and set me on the rock. So I rejoice, for I have felt and tasted of His love. When I think of what he hasdone for me, and then think of what I have been, I feel that I am notworthy even to stand up in such a place as this. But He is worthy, andso I must praise Him. I have a comfortable assurance that He, my goodFather, is contented with me. But it is only because the grace of Godis sufficient to keep me. I am growing in grace, and I desire more thanever to glorify God in all I think, or speak, or do. I have beenhelping our Missionary at Beren's River in the good work among thepeople there. I often felt happy while endeavouring to point my heathenbrethren to Jesus Christ, Who takes away the sins of the world. Myfirst consecration was of myself, when converted to Christ. My secondwas of my family to Him. My third is of my class. I am often veryhappy while trying to lead them on in the way to heaven. To-day I renewmy vows of consecration. I offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, for Heis my God and my portion for ever. As He is the Source of Love andLight and Safety, I want to be continually drawing nearer to Him. "

Very appropriate was the hymn which was next sung, --

 "Ke-se-wog-ne-man-toom Ke-nah-te-tin, " etcetera, "Nearer, my God, to Thee. "

After three verses of this beautiful hymn were sung, we had a largenumber of short testimonies. Some of the people beautifully expressedthemselves by quoting passages from their Indian Bibles. For example, one said: "The joy of the Lord is my portion. " Another: "The Lord is myShepherd; I shall not want. " Another: "Beloved, now are we the sons ofGod, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, whenHe shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see him as He is. "

Thus delightfully passed away two hours. Perhaps fifty or sixty gavetheir testimonies, or quoted passages of Scripture. The speaking was upto the average of a similar gathering among white people, as theseexamples we have given would indicate. They were faithfully translatedby two of our best interpreters, and then compared. And yet many of thebeautiful Indian images are lost in the translation into English. 

The best of all has also to be left out. The Divine power, the holyemotions, the shining faces, the atmosphere of heaven, cannot be putdown on paper. Many of my readers know what I mean as thus I write, forthey have been in those hallowed gatherings where "they that feared theLord spake often one to another. "

Then followed the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. To the ChristianIndians this service is, as it ever should be, the most solemn andimpressive in the Church. Our custom was to hold four Communionservices during the year. In addition, we sometimes gave a dyingdevoted member this sacrament, if so desired. Here there were a fewother very important occasions, when we celebrated in this way the dyingof the Lord Jesus. As, for example, when several scores of our peoplewere going off on a dangerous trip in a plague-infected district withbut very poor prospects of all returning home again. 

WILLIAM MEMOTAS. 

William Memotas was converted from the darkness of paganism to the lightof the Gospel soon after the introduction of the glad tidings ofsalvation among the Cree Indians by that most useful and godly man, theReverend James Evans. William's conversion was so clear and positivethat he never had any doubts about it. His progress in the Divine lifewas marked and intelligent, and soon he became a useful and acceptableworker in the Church. He was a Class Leader and Local Preacher of greatpower and acceptability. 

He was pre-eminently a happy Christian. His face seemed full ofsunshine. There was a genial sweetness about him that caused his verypresence to act as a charm. His coming into our Mission home was likethe sunshine, in which even our little ones basked with great delight. He was an every-day Christian. Although I was often in his company, andwas thrown in contact with him on some occasions calculated to severelytest him, yet I never heard from him an improper word, or heard of hishaving in any way gone contrary to his Christian profession during thethirty years that he had professed to be a follower of the Lord Jesus. 

His greatest aim in life seemed to be to get to heaven; and next to thathe strove to induce others to follow in the same course. 

When some of the Indians were getting excited about their lands, and thetreaties which were soon to be made with the Government, William, inwriting to a friend, said: "I care for none of these things; they willall come right. My only desire is to love Jesus more and more, so as tosee Him by-and-by. "

He was a useful Christian, possessing a good knowledge of the roots andherbs of his native forests, and also having had some instruction givenhim in reference to some of the simpler medicines of the whites, he wasoften styled our "village doctor. " Although seldom remunerated for hisservices, he was always ready to listen to the calls of the afflicted, and, with Heaven's blessing, was instrumental in accomplishing somemarvellous cures. He believed in using a good deal of prayer with hismedicines. His skill in dressing and curing gun-shot wounds could notbe excelled. 

Yet, while doing all he could to cure others, his own health was verypoor for several years. He suffered frequently from violent headachesthat caused intense pain. Yet he was never heard to murmur or complain, but would say to us, when we tried to sympathise with him, "Never mind, by-and-by I shall get home, and when I see Jesus I shall have no morepain. " About nine days before his departure he caught a severe coldthat settled upon his lungs, which seemed to have been diseased for along time. He had from the beginning a presentiment that his sicknesswas "unto death, " and never did a weary toiler welcome his bed of restwith greater delight than did William the grave. The prospect ofgetting to heaven seemed so fully to absorb his thoughts that heappeared dead to everything earthly. In life he had been a most lovingand affectionate husband and father, but now, with a strong belief inGod's promises of protection and care over the widow and fatherless, heresigned his family into the Lord's hands, and then seemed almost tobanish them from his thoughts. 

Being very poor on account of his long-continued ill health, which hadincapacitated him for work, he had, when his severe illness began, nothing to eat but fish. We cheerfully supplied him with what thingsour limited means would allow, to alleviate his sorrows and poverty. One day, when my beloved Brother Semmens and I had visited him, we hadprayer and a blessed talk with him. As we were leaving him, aftergiving him some tangible evidences of our love, Brother Semmens said, "Now, Brother William, can we do anything else for you? Do you wantanything more?" The poor sick man turned his radiant face towards usand said, "O no, I want nothing now, but more of Christ. "

He often conversed with us about his glorious prospects and the joy andhappiness he felt as the pearly gates of the Golden City seemed to beopening before him. Here are some of his dying words whispered eitherto my beloved colleague or to myself. Would that we could portray thescene, or describe the happy, shining face of the dying man, lying thereon a bed of blankets and rabbit skins in his little dwelling!

He said, "While my body is getting weaker, my faith is getting stronger, and I am very happy in Jesus' love. Very glad am I that I responded toMr Evans' invitations, and gave my heart to Him Who has saved me andkept me so happy in His love. I am so glad I was permitted to do somelittle work for Jesus. He used to help me when I tried to talk aboutHis love and recommend Him to others. I used to get very happy in myown soul when thus working for Him. I am happier now than ever before. I am resting in His love. "

Thus would the happy man talk on as long as his strength permitted. Itwas ever a blessing to visit him. It wonderfully encouraged andstrengthened us in our work. One day, as we came from one of theseblessed visits, Brother Semmens burst out in almost ecstatic delight, --

 "O may I triumph so When all my warfare's past!"

When we administered to him the emblems of the broken body and spiltblood of the Redeemer, he was much affected, and exclaimed, "My preciousSaviour! I shall soon see Him. `That will be joy for evermore. '"

Once, when conversing with him, I happened to say, "I hope you will notleave us. We want you to remain with us. We need you to help us topreach. We need you in the Sunday School and in the Prayer Meetings. Your sixty class members are full of sorrow at your sickness. Theythink they cannot spare you. Do not be in a hurry to leave us, William. We want your presence, your example, your prayers. "

He listened patiently while I talked, and then he looked up at me sochidingly, like a weary, home-sick child, and exclaimed, in a voice thatshowed that earth had lost all its charms, "Why do you wish to detainme? You know I want to go home. "

Shortly after, his heart's desire was his in actual possession. Triumphantly he went home. While we felt that our Mission was much theloser by his departure, we knew it was better for him, and an accessionto heaven's glorious company of one who was worthy to mingle with thewhite-robed throng around the throne of God. 

There is nothing that more roots and grounds us in this blessed Gospel, and more stimulates us to labour on, even amidst hardships andsufferings, than the consistent lives and triumphant deaths of ourIndian converts. 

Ignorant as many of them are of the non-essentials of our religion, yetpossessing by the Spirit's influence a vivid knowledge of their state bynature, and of the Saviour's love for them, they cling to Him with afaith so strong and abiding, that the blessed assurance of His favourabides with them as a conscious reality through life; and when the enddraws near, sustained by His presence, even the Valley of the Shadow ofDeath is entered with delight. 

The Missions among the Indians of North America have not been failures. The thousands converted from different tribes, and now before the throneof God, and the many true and steadfast ones following after, tell usthat although many of the toilers among them, as they went with theseed, literally went forth weeping, yet the harvest has been an abundantone, and has more than compensated for the tears and toils of thesewers. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

VARIED DUTIES--CHRISTIANITY MUST PRECEDE CIVILISATION--ILLUSTRATIONS--EXPERIMENTAL FARMING--PLOUGHING WITH DOGS--ABUNDANCE OF FISH--VISITSFROM FAR-OFF INDIANS--SOME COME TO DISTURB--MANY SINCERE INQUIRERS AFTERTHE TRUTH--"WHERE IS THE MISSIONARY?"--BEREN'S RIVER MISSION BEGUN--TIMOTHY BEAR--PERILS ON THE ICE. 

Very diversified were our duties among these Indians. Not only werethere those that in all places are associated with ministerial orpastoral work, but there were also many others, peculiar to this kind ofmissionary toil. Following closely on the acceptance of the spiritualblessings of the Gospel came the desire for temporal progress anddevelopment. Christianity must ever precede a real and genuinecivilisation. To reverse this order of proceedings has always resultedin humiliating failure among the North American Indians. 

Sir Francis Bond Head, one of the early Governors of Canada, took agreat interest in the Indians. He zealously endeavoured to improvethem, and honestly worked for their advancement. He gathered together alarge number of them at one of their settlements, and held a greatcouncil with them. Oxen were killed, and flour and tea and tobacco wereprovided in large quantities. The Indians feasted and smoked, andlistened attentively to this great man who represented the Queen, andwho, having also supplied them with food for the great feast, was worthyof all attention. 

The Governor told them that the great object of his coming to see them, and thus feasting them, was to show his kindness to them, and interestin their welfare. Then, with much emphasis he told them how the gamewas disappearing, and the fish also would soon not be so plentiful, and, unless they settled down and cultivated the soil, they would suffer fromhunger, and perhaps starve to death. He got them to promise that theywould begin this new way of life. As they were feeling very comfortablewhile feasting on his bounties, they were in the humour of promisingeverything he desired. Very much delighted at their docility, he saidhe would send them axes to clear more of their land, and oxen andploughs to prepare it for seed; and when all was ready he would sendthem seed grain. Great were their rejoicings at these words, and withstately ceremony the council broke up. 

In a few days along came the ploughs, oxen, and axes. It was in thepleasant springtime, but instead of going to work and ploughing up whatland there was cleared in their village, and beginning with their axesto get more ready, they held a council among themselves. These weretheir conclusions: "These axes are bright and shine like glass. If weuse them to cut down trees, they will lose their fine appearance. Letus keep them as ornaments. These oxen now are fat and good. If wefasten them up to these heavy ploughs, and make them drag them throughthe ground, they will soon get poor and not fit for food. Let us make agreat feast. " So they killed the oxen, and invited all of thesurrounding Indians to join them, and as long as a piece of meat wasleft the pots were kept boiling. 

Thus ended, just as many other efforts of the kind have ended, thiseffort to civilise the Indians before Christianising them. 

We found that almost in proportion to the genuineness of the Indian'sacceptance of the Gospel was his desire to improve his temporalcircumstances. Of course there were some places where the Indians couldnot cultivate the land. We were four hundred miles north of the fertileprairies of the great western part of the Dominion of Canada, whereperhaps a hundred millions of people will yet find happy times. Fromthese wondrously fertile regions my Nelson River Indians were at leastsix hundred miles north. As hunters and fishermen these men, and thoseat Oxford Mission, and indeed nearly all in those high latitudes, mustlive. But where there was land to cultivate the Indians had theirgardens and little fields. 

I carried out with me four potatoes. I did not get them in the grounduntil the 6th of August. Yet in the short season left I succeeded inraising a few little ones. These I carefully packed in cotton wool andkept safe from the frost. The next year I got from them a pailful. Theyield the third year was six bushels, and the fourth year one hundredand twenty-five bushels; and before I left the Indians were raisingthousands of bushels from those four potatoes. They had had somebefore, but there had been some neglect, and they had run out. 

One summer I carried out, in a little open boat from Red River, a goodScotch iron beam plough. The next winter, when I came in to theDistrict Meeting, I bought a bag of wheat containing two bushels and ahalf; and I got also thirty-two iron harrow teeth. I dragged thesethings, with many others, including quite an assortment of garden seeds, on my dog-trains, all the way to Norway House. I harnessed eight dogsto my plough, and ploughed up my little fields; and, after making aharrow, I harrowed in my wheat with the dogs. The first year I hadthirty bushels of beautiful wheat. This I cut with a sickle, and thenthrashed it with a flail. Mrs Young sewed several sheets together, andone day, when there was a steady, gentle breeze blowing, we winnowed thechaff from the wheat in the wind. There were no mills within hundredsof miles of us; so we merely cracked the wheat in a hand coffee-mill, and used some of it for porridge, and gave the rest to the Indians, whomade use of it in their soups. 

Thus we laboured with them and for them, and were more and moreencouraged, as the years rolled on, at seeing how resolved they were toimprove their temporal circumstances, which at the best were not to beenvied. 

The principal article of food was fish. The nets were in the water fromthe time the ice disappeared in May until it returned in October; andoften were holes cut in the ice, and nets placed under it, for thisstaple article of food. 

The great fall fisheries were times of activity and anxiety, as thewinter's supply of food depended very much upon the numbers caught. Sosteady and severe is the frost at Norway House, and at all the Missionsnorth of it, that the fish caught in October and the early part ofNovember, keep frozen solid until April. The principal fish is thewhite fish, although many other varieties abound. 

Each Indian family endeavoured to secure from three to five thousandfish, each fall, for the winter's supply. For my own family use, andmore especially for my numerous dogs, which were required for my longwinter trips to the out Mission appointments, I used to endeavour tosecure not less than ten thousand fish. It is fortunate that thoselakes and rivers so abound in splendid varieties of fish. If it werenot so, the Indians could not exist. But, providentially, --

 "The teeming sea supplies The food the niggard soil denies. "

Deer of several varieties abound, and also other animals, the flesh ofwhich furnishes nutritious food. But all supplies of food thus obtainedare insignificant in comparison with the fish, which the Indians areable to obtain except in the severest weather. 

As with the natives, so it was with the Missionaries; the principalarticle of food upon their tables was fish. During the first RielRebellion, when all communication with the interior was cut off, and oursupplies could not as usual be sent out to us from Red River, my goodwife and I lived on fish twenty-one times a week, for nearly six months. Of course there were times when we had on the table, in addition to thefish, a cooked rabbit, or it may be a piece of venison or bear's meat. However, the great "stand-by, " as they say out in that land, was thefish. 

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Every summer hundreds of Indians from other places visited us. Somecame in their small canoes, and others with the Brigades, which in thosedays travelled vast distances with their loads of rich furs, which weresent down to York Factory on the Hudson Bay, to be shipped thence toEngland. Sometimes they remained several weeks between the trading postand the Mission. Very frequent were the conversations we had with thesewandering red men about the Great Spirit and the Great Book. 

Some, full of mischief, and at times unfortunately full of rum, used tocome to annoy and disturb us. One summer a band of Athabasca Indians soattacked our Mission House that for three days and nights we were as ina state of siege. Unfortunately for us our own loyal able-bodied Indianmen were all away as trip men, and the few at the Mission village werepowerless to help. Our lives were in jeopardy, and they came very nearburning down the premises. 

Shortly after these Athabasca Indians had left us I saw a large boatloadof men coming across the lake towards our village. Imagining them to besome of these same disturbers, I hastily rallied all the old men Icould, and went down to the shore, to keep them, if possible, fromlanding. Very agreeable indeed was my surprise to find that they were aband of earnest seekers after the Great Light, who had come a longdistance to see and talk with me. Gladly did I lead them to the MissionHouse, and until midnight I endeavoured to preach to them Jesus. Theycame a distance of over three hundred miles; but in that far-offdistrict had met in their wanderings some of our Christian Indians fromNorway House, who, always carrying their Bibles with them, had, byreading to them and praying with them, under the good Spirit'sinfluence, implanted in their hearts longing desires after the greatsalvation. They were literally hungering and thirsting after salvation. Before they left for their homes, they were all baptized. Theirimportunate request to me on leaving was the same as that of manyothers:

"Do come and visit us in our own land, and tell us and our families moreof these blessed truths. "

From God's Lake, which is sixty miles from Oxford Lake, a deputation ofeleven Indians came to see me. They had travelled the whole distance oftwo hundred and sixty miles in order that they might hear the Gospel, and get from me a supply of Bibles, Hymn-books, and Catechisms. One ofthem had been baptized and taught years ago by the Reverend H. Brooking. His life and teachings had made the others eager for thisblessed way, and so he brought these hungry sheep in the wilderness thatlong distance that they might have the truth explained to them moreperfectly, and be baptised. As it had been with the others who camefrom a different direction, so it was with these. Their earnest, oft-repeated entreaty was, "Come and visit us and ours in our far-awayhomes. "

A few weeks after, another boatload of men called to have a talk withme. They seated themselves on the grass in front of the Mission House, and at first acted as though they expected me to begin the conversation. I found out very soon that they were Saulteaux, and had come fromBeren's River, about a hundred and fifty miles away. After a few wordsas to their health and families had passed between us, an old man, whoseemed to be the spokesman of the party, said, "Well, Ayumeaookemou"("praying master, " the Missionary's name), "do you remember your wordsof three summers ago?"

"What were my words of three summers ago?" I asked. 

"Why, " he replied, "your words were that you would write to the Keche-ayumeaookemou" (the great praying masters, the Missionary Secretaries)"for a Missionary for us. "

When I first passed through their country, they with tears in their eyeshad begged for a Missionary. I had been much moved by their appeals, and had written to the Mission House about them and for them, but all invain. None had come to labour among them. 

For my answer to this old man's words I translated a copy of my letter, which had been published, and in which I had strongly urged their claimsfor a Missionary. They all listened attentively to the end, and thenthe old man sprang up and said, "We all thank you for sending that word, but _where is the Missionary_?" I was lost for an answer, for I feltthat I was being asked by this hungering soul the most importantquestion that can be heard by the Christian Church, to whom God hascommitted the great work of the world's evangelisation. 

"WHERE IS THE MISSIONARY?" The question thrilled me, and I went downbefore it like the reed before the storm. I could only weep and say, "Lord, have mercy upon me and on the apathetic Christian world. "

That was the hardest question a human being ever asked me. To tell himof a want of men, or a lack of money, to carry the glad tidings ofsalvation to him and his people, would only have filled his mind withdoubts as to the genuineness of the religion enjoyed by a people sonumerous and rich as he knew the whites were. So I tried to give themsome idea of the world's population, and the vast number yet unconvertedto Christianity. I told him the Churches were at work in many placesand among many nations, but that many years would pass away before allthe world would be supplied with Missionaries. 

"How many winters will pass by before that time comes?" he asked. 

"A great many, I fear, " was my answer. 

He put his hands through his long hair, once as black as a raven's wing, but now becoming silvered, and replied: "These white hairs show that Ihave lived many winters, and am getting old. My countrymen at Red Riveron the south of us, and here at Norway House on the north of us, haveMissionaries, and churches, and schools; and we have none. I do notwish to die until we have a church and a school. "

The story of this old man's appeal woke up the good people of theChurches, and something was soon done for these Indians. I visited themtwice a year by canoe and dog-train, and found them anxious forreligious instruction and progress. 

At first I sent to live among them my faithful interpreter, TimothyBear. He worked faithfully and did good service. He was not a strongman physically, and could not stand much exposure. To live in, he hadmy large leather tent, which was made of the prepared skins of thebuffalo. One night a great tornado swept over the country, andTimothy's tent was carried away, and then the drenching rains fell uponhim and his. A severe cold resulted, and when word reached me severalweeks after at Norway House, it was that my trusted friend washopelessly ill, but was still endeavouring to keep at his duties. 

So great was my anxiety to go and comfort him that I started out with mydog-trains so soon after the winter set in that that trip very nearlyproved to be my last. The greater part of that journey was performedupon Lake Winnipeg. Very frequently on the northern end of that lakethe ice, which there forms first, is broken up by the fierce winds fromthe southern end, which, being three hundred miles further south, remains open several days longer. I had with me two Indians, --one wasan old experienced man, named William Cochran; the other a splendidspecimen of physical manhood, named Felix. 

When we reached Lake Winnipeg, as far as we could judge by theappearance of the ice, it must have formed three times, and then havebeen broken up by the storms. The broken masses were piled up inpicturesque ridges along the shore, or frozen together in vast fieldsextending for many miles. Over these rough ice-fields, where greatpieces of ice, from five to twenty feet high, were thrown at everyangle, and then frozen solid, we travelled for two days. Both men anddogs suffered a great deal from falls and bruises. Our feet at timeswere bruised and bleeding. Just about daybreak, on our third day, as wepushed out from our camp in the woods where we had passed the night, when we had got a considerable distance from the shore, Felix wasdelighted to find smooth ice. He was guiding at the time. He put onhis skates and bounded off quickly, and was soon followed by the dogs, who seemed as delighted as he that the rough ice had all been passed, and now there was a possibility of getting on with speed and comfort. 

Just as I was congratulating myself on the fact of our having reachedgood ice, and that now there was a prospect of soon reaching my sickIndian brother, a cry of terror came from William, the experiencedIndian who was driving our provision sled behind mine. 

"This ice is bad, and we are sinking, " he shouted. 

Thinking the best way for me was to stop I checked my dogs, and at oncebegan to sink. 

"Keep moving, but make for the shore, " was the instant cry of the manbehind. 

I shouted to my splendid, well-trained dogs, and they at once respondedto the command given, and bounded towards the shore. Fortunately theice was strong enough to hold the dogs up, although under the sled itbent and cracked, and in some places broke through. 

Very grateful were we when we got back to the rough strong ice near theshore. In quiet tones we spoke a few words of congratulation to eachother, and lifted up our hearts in gratitude to our great Preserver, andthen hurried on. If we had broken in, we could have received no earthlyaid, as there was not even a wigwam within a day's journey of us. 

That night at the camp-fire I overheard William saying to Felix, "I amashamed of ourselves for not having taken better care of ourMissionary. "

We found Timothy very sick indeed. We ministered to his comfort, andhad it then in our power so to arrange that, while the work should notsuffer, he could have rest and quiet. His success had been very marked, and the old Saulteaux rejoiced that he and the rest of them were to beneglected no longer. He had made such diligent progress himself inspiritual things that I gladly baptized him and his household. 

There were times when our supplies ran very short, and hunger andsuffering had to be endured. During the first Riel Rebellion, when wewere cut off from access to the outside world, we were entirelydependent upon our nets and guns for a long time. Our artist has triedto tell a story in three pictures. 

At the breakfast table we had nothing to eat but the hind-quarter of awild cat. It was very tough and tasteless; and while we were trying tomake our breakfast from it, Mrs Young said, "My dear, unless you shootsomething for dinner, I am afraid there will be none. "

So I took down my rifle, and tied on my snow-shoes, and started offlooking for game. See Picture I. Pictures II and III tell the rest ofthe story. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

SMALL-POX PESTILENCE--HEROIC CONDUCT OF CHRISTIAN INDIANS--WHITESSUPPLIED WITH PROVISIONS BY RED MEN--THE GUIDE SAMUEL PAPANEKIS--HISTRIUMPHANT DEATH--NANCY, THE HAPPY WIDOW--IN POVERTY, YET REJOICING. 

We were very much shocked, during the early spring, to hear that thatterrible disease, the small-pox, had broken out among the Indians on thegreat plains of the Saskatchewan. 

It seems to have been brought into the country by some white traderscoming up from the State of Montana. When once it had got amongst them, it spread with amazing rapidity and fatality. To make matters worse, one of the tribes of Indians, being at war with another, secretlycarried some of the infected clothing, which had been worn by their owndead friends, into the territory of those with whom they were at war, and left it where it could be easily found and carried off. In this waythe disease was communicated to this second tribe, and thousands of themdied from it. 

Every possible precaution against the spread of this terrible destroyerwas taken by the Missionaries, Messrs. McDougall and Campbell, aided bytheir Christian people. But, in spite of all their efforts, itcontinued cutting down both whites and Indians. To save some of hispeople Mr McDougall got the Indians of his Victoria Mission to leavetheir homes and scatter themselves over the great prairies, where, hehoped, they would, by being isolated, escape the contagion. The paganIndians, rendered desperate under the terrible scourge which was sorapidly cutting them off, and being powerless to check it, resolved towreak their vengeance upon the defenceless whites. So they sent a bandof warriors to destroy every white person in the country. The firstplace they reached, where dwelt any of the pale-faces, was the VictoriaMission on the Saskatchewan River. Indian-like, they did not openlyattack, but, leaving the greater number of their warriors in ambush inthe long grass, a few of them sauntered into the Mission House. Here, to their surprise, they found that the small-pox had entered, and someof the inmates of the home had died. Quickly and quietly they glidedaway, and told their comrades what they had seen. A hasty consultationwas held, and they decided that it could not have been the Missionarywho had control of the disease; for, if he had, he would not haveallowed it to have killed his own. They then decided it must have beenthe fur-traders, and so they started for the trading post. Here theypursued the same tactics, and found to their surprise that a Mr Clarke, the gentleman in charge of that place, had fallen a victim. Anotherhasty council made them think that they had been mistaken, and so theyquickly returned to their own country without having injured any one. 

But the Missionary and his family were surrounded by perils. TheIndians were excited and unsettled, and their old pagan conjurers wereever ready to incite them to deeds of violence. The restraining powerof God alone saved them from massacre. Once the Missionary's wife andsome of the family were at work in the garden, while secreted in thelong grass not a hundred yards from them lay eleven Blackfeet, who hadcome to murder and pillage the place, but, as they afterwardsacknowledged, were strangely restrained from firing. At another timesome of the fierce warriors of this same bloodthirsty tribe crawledthrough a field of barley, and for a long time watched the movements ofthe family, and then noiselessly retired, doing no harm to any one. Tohear the ping of a bullet as it passed in close proximity to the headwas no very rare event in the lives of several of the early Missionariesamong the excited pagans. 

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While the small-pox was raging in the Great Saskatchewan country, strenuous efforts were made to prevent it spreading to other districts. Manitoba had now been formed into a province, and was filling up withwhite settlers. The old name, Fort Garry, had been changed to Winnipeg, and this place was rapidly growing into a prosperous town. From FortGarry long trains of Red River carts had been in the habit of going foryears with the supplies needed in the far-off Saskatchewan country. These carts were made without having in their construction a singlepiece of iron. The Half-breeds or Indian drivers never oiled or greasedthem, and the result was they could be heard about as far as seen, evenon the level prairies. Each cart was drawn by one ox, and was supposedto carry from eight to twelve hundred pounds of supplies, in addition tothe food and outfit of the driver, who was always expected to walk. This freighting by carts on the prairies is the counterpart oftransporting goods by open boats or canoes in the northern rivers, towhich we have elsewhere referred. The arrival of the brigade of cartswith the supplies, and the news from the outside world, was the greatevent of the year in the early times at those lonely prairiesettlements. 

But stern measures had to be adopted in this year of the small-poxplague. A proclamation was issued by the Governor of the Province ofManitoba, absolutely prohibiting any trade or communication in any waywith the infected district. Not a single cart or traveller waspermitted to go on the trail. This meant a good deal of suffering andmany privations for the isolated Missionaries and traders and otherwhites who, for purposes of settlement or adventure, had gone into thatremote interior country. 

As it was, only twice a year in many places did the lonely Missionarieshear from the outside world. Then the mail-carrier was very welcome, whether he came by canoe or dog-train. 

Although there were still plenty of buffalo on the plains, it was wellknown that the ammunition was about exhausted, as well as all othersupplies, including medicines, now so much needed. Some interestedparties vainly urged the Governor to relent and allow some supplies tobe sent in. But, conscious of the risks that would be run of thepestilence reaching the province over which he governed, he remainedfirm, while he felt for those who necessarily must suffer. 

"What can be done to aid those unfortunate ones, who, in addition totheir sorrows and troubles incident to the ravages of the small-poxamong them, are now to be exposed to pinching famine and want?" was thequestion that sympathising friends were asking each other. As a lastresort it was decided to appeal to the Norway House Christian Indians, and ask them to form a brigade of boats, and take the much-neededsupplies up the mighty Saskatchewan River, where they could be reachedby those needing them. 

To me, as Missionary of these Indians, Mr Stewart, the highest officialof the Hudson's Bay Company, came; and we talked the matter over, andthe risks which the Indians, not one of whom had been vaccinated, mustrun in going on such a perilous journey. They would have to go hundredsof miles through the disease-stricken land where hundreds had died. Butit seemed essential that something must be done, and there werepossibilities that the Indians, by acting very wisely, could escapeinfection: so we decided to call them together, and see what they woulddo in this emergency. 

When the church bell was rung, and the people had assembled together intheir Council house, wondering what was the matter, I described the sadcircumstances to them, and then presented the request, that one hundredand sixty of them should take twenty boats loaded with supplies, and goup the Saskatchewan, to save these white people from starving. I saidto these converted Indians, my own people:

"I know your race on this continent has not always been fairly treated;but never mind that. Here is a grand opportunity for you to do aglorious act, and to show to the world and to the good Lord, Whosechildren you are, that you can make sacrifices and run risks when dutycalls, as well as the whites can. "

We told them that there was a possibility that they, by keeping in themiddle of the great river all the time, and _never_ going ashore, mightall escape. They would be provided with abundance of food; so they neednot go ashore to hunt. Then we asked, "Are you willing to run the risk, and avail yourselves of this chance to do a glorious act?" Turning toone of the most trusted guides in the country, one of my best Class-Leaders, I said: "Samuel Papanekis, you are to be the guide and leaderof this party. " He was a son of the old centenarian, and brother of theReverend Edward Papanekis, now our Missionary at Oxford House Mission. 

He seemed at first a little startled by the responsibility of theposition, and after a moment's thought quietly said: "Will you give us alittle time to talk it over?" So we left them to discuss the matteramong themselves. When they sent us word that they had their answerready, we returned, and he said: "Missionary, we have talked it over, and have decided to go to take the supplies to our suffering whitebrothers and their families. But will you let us have one more Sundayat the church, and will you give us the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, ere we start upon the dangerous journey?"

"Yes, " I said, "it will take several days to get your loads and boatsready, and so we will have another blessed day of rest and hallowedworship together. "

It was a memorable Sabbath. Every man, woman, and child who could cometo church, seemed to be there. Some of the women wept as they thoughtof the risks their husbands, or brothers, or sons were running. Othersof them seemed to catch the spirit of the men, and felt proud that thosethey loved were willing to undertake so brave and noble a work. 

At the close of the morning service we had the Sacrament of the Lord'sSupper. It was very solemn and impressive. As they came forward andpartook of the emblems of their dear Lord's dying love, the recollectionof His self-sacrifice and disinterested kindness seemed to come veryvividly before us all, and there was in many hearts a kind of exultantjoy that they were counted worthy to run some risks for the sake ofdoing good. 

No foolish boastfulness, or desire to seek for sympathy, characterisedtheir utterances at the afternoon service, at which we met again in aTestimony or Fellowship Meeting. Some made no reference at all to thework before them; others asked for our prayers for them; and others, well taught in the Word of God, with the hallowed influences of themorning sacramental service still resting upon them, thought that theyought to rejoice when there were chances for getting into this spirit, so as to be partakers of Christ's sufferings, or companions intribulation with such a Friend, so that when His glory should berevealed, they also might rejoice, as He has taught us: "If we sufferwith Him, " we shall "also be glorified together. "

Two or three days after this they started on their long, dangerousjourney. They had twenty boats well loaded with supplies, each mannedby eight Indians, and all under the guidance of Samuel Papanekis, whomthey were expected to implicitly obey. They went up the fine river thatpasses by Norway House, until they entered into Lake Winnipeg. Fromthis place they skirted around the north-western shore of this greatlake, until they reached the mouth of the Saskatchewan River. Up thisgreat river they had to row their beats against the current for manyhundreds of miles. That summer was an exceedingly hot one, yet forweeks together these gallant fellows tugged away at their heavy oars. For a few short hours of rest during the night they anchored their boatsin mid-stream, and then at first blush of morning they continued theirjourney. Wild beasts were sometimes seen walking on the shores orquenching their thirst in the river. The hunting instincts of theyounger Indian boatmen were so strong that they begged to be allowed tofire; but Samuel, ever on the alert, and seeing the danger, alwayspositively refused. 

When the Sabbaths came they anchored their boats as close together aspossible near the middle of the river on some shoal or shallow spot, such as abound in this great river of shifting sand bars. Here theyspent their quiet, restful days, having prayers and a couple ofreligious services each Sunday. 

Ere they reached the place where they were to deliver their preciouscargoes, the river passed through many miles of the plague-strickencountry. They could see on the shores the deserted wigwams, in whichall the inmates had fallen victims to the fell destroyer, or had, panic-stricken, fled away. 

Very long seemed that summer, and great indeed was our solicitude, andmany were our prayers for these noble men, from whom we did not hear asingle word during the whole time of their absence. After being awayfor about ten weeks, they came back amidst a doxology of thanksgivingand gratitude. All of them were happy and in vigorous health, with theexception of the guide. The strain and anxiety upon him had been toomuch, and he was never the same man after. The others said, "Samuelseemed to be everywhere, and to watch every movement with almostsleepless vigilance. " Realising how great the responsibilities wereupon him, he determined, if untiring devotion to his work would enablehim to rescue those suffering whites, and then return with his largebrigade uncontaminated by the disease, it should be done. 

He succeeded, but at the price of his own life, for he only came home tolinger a while and then to die. His indomitable will-power kept him upuntil he saw the last boat safely moored in our quiet harbour, andwitnessed the loving greetings between his stalwart crews and theirhappy families. He joined with us all in the blessed thanksgivingservice in our overflowing sanctuary, where with glad hearts we sangtogether:

 "And are we yet alive, And see each other's face? Glory and praise to Jesus give For His redeeming grace: Preserved by power Divine To full salvation here, Again in Jesu's praise we join, And in His sight appear. "

Then he began to droop and wither, and in spite of all that we, or thekind Hudson's Bay officials, who were very much attached to him, coulddo for him, he seemed almost visibly to slip away from us. 

By-and-by the end drew near. It was a beautiful day, and as he had somedifficulty in breathing, at his own request a wigwam was prepared, andhe was well wrapped up and gently lifted out of his house and placedupon a bed of balsam boughs covered with robes. He seemed grateful forthe change, and appeared a little easier for a time. We talked ofJesus, and heaven, and "the abundant entrance, " and "the exceeding greatand precious promises. " Then he dropped off in a quiet slumber. Soonafter, he awoke with a consciousness that the time of his departure hadcome, and laid himself out to die. Bending over him, I said, "Samuel, this is death that has come for you! Tell me how it is with you. " Hishearing had partly left him, and so he did not understand me. Speakingmore loudly I said, "Samuel, my brother, you are in the Valley of theShadow of Death; how is it with you?"

His eye brightened, and his look told me he had understood my question. He lifted up his thin, emaciated arm, and, seeming to clasp hold ofsomething, he said, "Missionary, I am holding on to God; He is my all ofjoy and hope and happiness. " Then the arm fell nerveless, and mytriumphant Indian brother was in the Better Land. 

Perhaps I cannot find a better place than here to refer to Samuel'swidow and children, and an interview I had with them. 

They moved away, shortly after his death, from his house in the Missionvillage, and took up their abode with several other families up theriver beyond the Fort, several miles from the village. We had visitedthem and substantially aided them up to the time of their moving away, but for a while I had not met them, except at the services, and so didnot know how they were prospering. When the cold winter set in, Iarranged with my good Brother Semmens that we would take our dog-trainsand go and make pastoral visits among all the Indian families on theoutskirts, and find out how they were prospering, temporally andspiritually. It was ever a great joy to them when we visited them, andby our inquiries about their fishing and hunting, and other simpleaffairs, showed we were interested in these things, and rejoiced withthem when they could tell of success, and sympathised with them whenthey had met with loss or disaster. Then they listened reverently whenwe read from the blessed Word, and prayed with them in their humblehomes. 

One bitterly cold day towards evening we drove up to a very poor littlehouse. We knocked at the door, and in answer to a cheery "Astum, "--theIndian for "Come in, "--we entered the little abode. Our hearts sankwithin us at the evidences of the poverty of the inmates. The littlebuilding was made of poplar logs, the interstices of which were filledup with moss and clay. The floor was of the native earth, and there wasnot a piece of furniture in the abode, not a table, chair, or bedstead. In one corner of the room was an earthen fireplace, and, huddled arounda poor fire in it, there sat a widow with a large family of children, one of whom was a cripple. 

We said a few words of kindly greeting to the family, and then, lookinground on the destitute home, I said sorrowfully, "Nancy, you seem to bevery poor; you don't seem to have anything to make you happy andcomfortable. " Very quickly came the response, --and it was in a verymuch more cheery strain than my words had been, --

"I have not got much, but I am not unhappy, Missionary. "

"You poor creature, " I replied, "you don't seem to have anything to makeyou comfortable. "

"I have but little, " she said quietly. 

"Have you any venison?"

"No!"

"Have you any flour?"

"No!"

"Have you any tea?"

"Have you any potatoes?"

When this last question of mine was uttered, the poor woman looked up atme, for she was the widow of Samuel Papanekis, and this was her answer:"I have no potatoes, for, don't you remember, at the time of potatoplanting Samuel took charge of the brigade that went up with provisionsto save the poor white people? And Samuel is not here to shoot deer, that I may have venison; and Samuel is not here to catch mink and martenand beaver and other things to exchange for flour and tea. "

"What have you got, poor woman?" I said with my heart full of sorrow. 

She replied, "I have got a couple of fish-nets. "

"What did you do when it was too stormy to visit the nets?"

"Sometimes some of the men from the other houses visited them for me, and would bring me the fish. Then we sometimes get some by fishingthrough the ice. "

"What about when it was too stormy for any one to go?"

She quietly said, "If nothing were left, we go without anything. "

As I looked at her and her large family of fatherless children, and thenthought of her husband's triumphant death, and his glorious transfer tothat blest abode, where "they shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore, " and where "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, " thecontrast between the husband and father in his felicity, and the sorrowof the widow and children in their poverty, so affected me that, to hidemy emotion and keep back my tears, I hurried out of the room, followingmy loving Brother Semmens, who was, if possible, more deeply moved thanI was. We had gone into that house to pray, but we could not. Theremust be tangible sympathy given ere we could look to a higher source. 

My brother had reached the cariole, which was a few yards away, and Iwas not far behind, when the word, "Ayumeaookemou, " ("Praying master, ")arrested my hurrying steps. I turned back, and there, just outside ofthe door, was Nancy. With a woman's quick intuition to read thefeelings of the heart from the face and voice, she had followed me out, and her words, as nearly as I can recall them, were these:

"Missionary, I do not want you to feel so badly for me; it is true I amvery poor; it is true, since Samuel died, we have often been hungry andhave often suffered from the bitter cold; but, Missionary, " and her facehad no trace of sorrow upon it, "you have heard me say that as Samuelgave his heart to God, so have I given God my heart, and He Whocomforted Samuel and helped him, so that he died so happily, is mySaviour; and where Samuel has gone, by-and-by I am going too; and thatthought makes me happy all the day long. "

There came a blessed exultation into my soul, but I could find no answerthen. So I hurried on and joined my weeping brother, and shouting, "Marchez!" to our dogs, we were soon rapidly speeding over the icy trailto our Mission home. 

That night our bed was a blanket thinner, and on our limited suppliesthere was a heavy drain. I told the Indians who were better off abouther straitened condition, and she and hers were made more comfortable. Many of them gave very generously indeed to help her. The grace ofliberality abounds largely among these poor Christian Indians, and theywill give to the necessities of those who are poorer than themselvesuntil it seems at times as though they had about reached the same level. 

The triumphant death of Samuel, and then Nancy's brave words, very muchencouraged us in our work. We could not but more than rejoice at theGospel's power, still so consciously manifested to save in the Valley ofthe Shadow of Death, and also to make a humble log-cabin a little heavenbelow. We pitied her in her poverty, and yet soon after, when we hadthought it all over in the light of eternity, we could only rejoice withher, and in our spirits say, "Happy woman! Better live in a log hutwithout a chair or table or bedstead, without flour or tea or potatoes, entirely dependent upon the nets in the lake for food, if the Lord Jesusis a constant Guest, than in a mansion of a millionaire, surrounded byevery luxury, but destitute of His presence. "

It is a matter of great thankfulness that not only spiritually buttemporally thousands of the Indians in different parts of Canada areimproving grandly. The accompanying picture (page 209) is from aphotograph taken at the Scugog Lake Indian Mission. The fine barn, wellfilled with wheat, as well as all the surrounding vehicles andagricultural implements, belong to one of the Christian Indians. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

A RACE FOR LIFE IN A BLIZZARD STORM--SAVED BY THE MARVELLOUSINTELLIGENCE OF JACK--"WHERE IS THE OLD MAN, WHOSE HEAD WAS LIKE THESNOW-DRIFT?"

Blizzard storms sometimes assailed us, as on the long winter trails, with our gallant dogs and faithful companions, we wandered over thoseregions of magnificent distances. 

To persons who have not actually made the acquaintance of the blizzardstorms of the North-Western Territories, or Wild North Land, it isalmost impossible to give a satisfactory description. One peculiarityabout them, causing them to differ from other storms, is that the windseems to be ever coming in little whirls or eddies, which keep the airfull of snow, and make it almost impossible to tell the direction fromwhich the wind really comes. With it apparently striking you in theface, you turn your back to it, and are amazed at finding that it stillfaces you. Once, when on Lake Winnipeg, we saw one coming down upon us. Its appearance was that of a dense fog blowing in from the sea. Veryfew indeed are they who can steer their course correctly in a blizzardstorm. Most people, when so unfortunate as to be caught in one, soonget bewildered, and almost blinded by the fine, dry, hard particles ofsnow which so pitilessly beat upon them, filling eyes, nose, and evenears and mouth, if at all exposed. 

Once, when crossing Lake Winnipeg, to visit some wild Indians, whom wefound on our arrival in the midst of the hideous ceremonies of a dogfeast, I got caught in a terrible storm. My men had gone on ahead withall the dogs, to have dinner ready in the camp on the distant shore, leaving me miles behind, tramping along on snow-shoes. Down from thenorth, with terrific fury, came the gale. I tramped on as rapidly aspossible, until I got bewildered. Then I took off one of my snow-shoes, and, fastening it in a hole cut in the ice, I got ready to tramp in asmall circle around it to keep from freezing to death, when fortunatelyI heard the welcome whooping of my Indians, who, seeing my danger, hadquickly turned round, and risking their own lives for mine, for theycould have reached the woods and shelter, aided by the dogs, hadfortunately reached me. There we stopped for hours, until the blizzardhad spent its fury, and then on we went. 

I had a remarkable experience in a blizzard, which I will more fullydescribe, as our escape was under Providence so much indebted to mywonderful dog Jack. 

I had started on one of my long winter trips to visit the few littlebands of Indians who were struggling for an existence on the Easterncoast of Lake Winnipeg, and who were always glad to welcome theMissionary, and to hear from him of the love of the Great Spirit, and ofHis Son Jesus Christ. Their country is very wild and rough, verydifferent from the beautiful prairie regions of the North-West. To keepdown expenses, which in those Northern Missions are very heavy, I hadstarted out on this long trip with only this young Indian lad as mycompanion. But as he was good and true, I thought we could succeed, since I had been several years in the country, and had faced many awintry storm, and slept many nights in the snow. 

We had with us two splendid trains of dogs. My leader was a lively, cunning Esquimaux dog, as white as snow. His name was Koona, which isthe Indian word for "snow"; and he was well named. The other three dogsof my train were my favourites from Ontario. Two of them were giftsfrom Senator Sanford, of Hamilton; the other was kindly sent to me byDr Mark, of Ottawa. The other train, driven by Alec, was composed ofsome sagacious St. Bernards obtained for me by the kindness of MrFerrier, of Montreal. The largest and most enduring of the eight wasJack from Hamilton, whose place was second in my train, and who is to bethe hero of this adventure. 

We had left our camp-fire in the woods early in the morning, and, turning our faces towards the north, had hoped that ere the shadows ofnight had fallen around us, at least sixty miles of the frozen surfaceof Lake Winnipeg would have been travelled over. For a time we wereable to push on very rapidly, keeping the distant points of headlandswell in view for our guidance. Lake Winnipeg is very much indented withbays, and in travelling we do not follow the coast line, but strikedirectly across these bays from point to point. Some of them run backfor many miles into the land, and several of them are from ten to thirtymiles wide. The dogs get so accustomed to these long trips and to theirwork, that they require no guide to run on ahead, but will, withwonderful intelligence, push on from point to point with greatexactness. 

On and on we had travelled for hours; the cold was very great, but wecould easily jump off from our dog-sleds and run until we felt the glowand warmth of such vigorous exercise. After a while, we noticed thatthe strong wind which had arisen was filling the air with fine dry snow, and making travelling very difficult and unpleasant. Soon it increasedto a gale, and we found ourselves in a real North-West blizzard onstormy Lake Winnipeg, many miles from shore. 

Perhaps our wisest plan would have been, at the commencement of thestorm, to have turned sharply to the east, and got into the shelter ofthe forest as quickly as possible. But the bay we were crossing was avery deep one, and the headland before us seemed as near as the otherend of the bay; and so we thought it best to run the risk and push on. That we might not get separated from each other, I fastened what we callthe tail rope of my sled to the collar of the head dog of Alec's train. 

After Alec and I had travelled on for several hours, no sign of any landappearing, we began to think that the fickle blizzard was playing us oneof its tricks, and that we had wandered far out into the lake. Westopped our dogs out there in the blinding, bewildering storm. 

"Alec!" I shouted, "I am afraid we are lost. "

"Yes, Missionary, " he replied, "we are surely lost. "

We talked about our position, and both had to confess that we did notreally know where we were or which way we ought to go. 

The result of our deliberation was that we could do no better than trustin the good Providence above us, and in our dogs before us. 

As it was now after midday, and the vigorous exercise of the last fewhours had made us very hungry, we opened our provision bag, and, takingout some frozen food, made a fairly good attempt to satisfy the keendemands of appetite. We missed very much the good cup of hot black teawe should have had if we had been fortunate enough to reach the shore, and find some wood with which to make a fire. 

After our hasty meal we held a short consultation, in which the factbecame more and more evident to us, that our position was a veryperilous one, as we were becoming blinded by the driving particles offine snow that stung our eyeballs and added much to our bewilderment. We found that we did not know east from west, or north from south, andwould have to leave the dogs to decide on their own course, and let themgo in any direction they pleased. 

I had a good deal of confidence in my dogs, as I had proved theirsagacity. To Jack, the noblest of them all, I looked to lead us out ofour difficulty; and he did not disappoint our expectations. I suppose Iacted and talked to my dog in a way that some folks would haveconsidered very foolish. When travelling regularly, the dogs are onlyfed once a day, and that when the day's work is done. However, it wasdifferent that day, as in the blinding gale Alec and I tried to eat ourdinner. As Jack and the others crowded around us, they were notneglected, and with them we shared the food we had, as there was a greatuncertainty whether another meal would ever be required by any one ofus. 

As usual in such emergencies, Jack had come up close to me, and so, while he and Alec and I, and the rest of us, men and dogs, were eatingour dinners, I had a talk with him. 

"Jack, my noble fellow, " I said, "do you know that we are lost, and thatit is very doubtful whether we shall ever see the Mission House again?The prospect is that the snow will soon be our winding sheet, and thatloving eyes will look in vain for our return. The chances are againstyour ever having the opportunity of stretching yourself out on the wolfrug before the study fire. Rouse up yourself, old dog, for in yourintelligence we are going to trust to lead us to a place of safety. "

The few arrangements necessary for the race were soon made. Alecwrapped himself up as comfortably as possible in his rabbit-skin robe, and I helped him to ensconce himself securely on his dog-sled. I tied arope from the end of my sled to the collar of his leader dog, so thatour trains might not get separated. Then I straightened out the trains, and, wrapping myself up as well as I could on my sled, I shouted"Marchez!" to the dogs. 

I had as leader dog the intelligent white Esquimaux, "Koona. " As Ishouted the word for "Go, " Koona turned his head and looked at me, asthough bewildered, and seemed to be waiting for "Chaw" or "Yee, " thewords for "right" and "left. " As I did not know myself, I shouted toJack, who was second in the train, "Go on, Jack, whichever way you like, and do the best you can, for I do not know anything about it. " As Koonastill hesitated, Jack, with all the confidence imaginable, dashed off ina certain direction, and Koona with slackened traces ran beside him, very willing in such an emergency to give him all the honour ofleadership. 

For hours the dogs kept bravely to their work. The storm raged andhowled around us, but not for one moment did Jack hesitate or seem to beat fault. Koona had nothing to do but run beside him; but the other twosplendid dogs in the traces behind Jack seemed to catch his spirit, andnobly aided him by their untiring efforts and courage. The cold was sointense that I had grave fears that we should freeze to death. We wereobliged so to wrap ourselves up that it was impossible with so much onus to run with any comfort, or to keep up with the dogs whilst going atsuch a rapid rate. Frequently would I shout back to my comrade, "Alec!don't go to sleep. Alec, if you do, you may never wake up until theJudgment morning. " Back would come his response, "All right, sir; thenI'll try to keep awake. "

Thus on we travelled through that wintry storm. How cold, howrelentless, how bitter were the continuous blasts of the north wind!After a while the shadows of night fell upon us, and we were enshroudedin the darkness. Not a pleasant position was that in which we weresituated; but there was no help for it, nor any use in giving way todespondency or despair. A sweet peace filled my soul, and in a blessedrestfulness of spirit my heart was kept stayed upon God. While there islife there is hope; and so, with an occasional shout of warning to Alecto keep awake, and a cheering call to the dogs, who required no specialurging, so gallantly were they doing their work, we patiently hung on toour sleds and awaited the result. We were now in the gloom of night, dashing along I knew not where, and not even able at times to see thedogs before us. 

About three hours after dark the dogs quickened their pace into agallop, and showed by their excitement that they had detected evidencesof nearness to the shore and safety, of which as yet I knew nothing. Soon after they dragged us over a large pile of broken ice and snow, theaccumulations of ice cut out of the holes in the lake, where the Indianfamilies had for months obtained their supply of water for cooking andother purposes. Turning sharply on the trail towards the shore, ourdogs dashed along for a couple of hundred yards more; then they draggedus up a steep bank into the forest, and, after a few minutes more ofrapid travelling, we found ourselves in the midst of a little collectionof wigwams, and among a band of friendly Indians, who gave us a cordialwelcome, and rejoiced with us at our escape from the storm, which wasthe severest of the year. 

We had three days of religious services with them, and then went on ourway from encampment to encampment. Very glad were the poor people tosee us, and with avidity did they receive the word preached. 

I felt that it was very slow work. My Circuit or Mission-field waslarger than all England. I was the only Missionary of any Church inthis large field. By canoe or dog-train I could only get around to allmy appointments or out-stations twice a year. Six months the poor soulshad to wait for the messenger and the message. 

At one of these Indian encampments on one of these visits I had thefollowing sad experience. Before I closed the first service I asked, "Where is the old man whose head was like the snow-drift?" for I hadmissed a white-haired old man, who had ever been at all the services, and had from the time of his conversion manifested the greatest anxietyto hear and learn all he could about this great salvation. At first hehad opposed me, and was annoyed at my coming among his people. Ultimately, however, he became convinced of the error of his ways, andwas an earnest, decided Christian. When I arrived at his village, whether by canoe in summer, or dog-train in winter, I was alwaysreceived by this venerable old man with great delight. Not satisfiedwith attending all the services held, and being at hand whenever Itaught the Syllabic Characters, that the Indians might be able to readthe blessed Word, he used to follow me like my shadow, and listen veryattentively to all I had to say. It was rather startling, indeed, whenone night, after a hard day of preaching and teaching and counselling, Ikneeled down to pray, ere I wrapped myself up in my camp-bed to get alittle rest, to hear whispered in quiet tones beside me, "Missionary, pray in Indian, and so loud that I can hear you. " In the morning he wasthere again, and as I bowed to say my quiet morning prayers there cameinto my ears from this old man the pleading words again, "Missionary, please pray in Indian, and pray out loud, so that I may hear what yousay. "

Is it any wonder that I became very much attached to my old friend withthe snow-white hair, who was so hungering and thirsting for theteachings of the Word? Only twice a year could I then visit him and hispeople. I used to remain a few days at each of these visits, and verybusy ones indeed they were. For six months these poor sheep in thewilderness had been without the Gospel, and as soon as I left they wouldhave to get along as well as they could on what they had heard. Nowthat they had, under the good Spirit's influence, a longing desire toreceive the truth, can any one wonder at their anxiety to learn all theycould from the Missionary during his short stay among them? Thisintense desire on their part filled my heart with thankfulness, andamply compensated for all the sufferings and hardships of the long, cold, dangerous journeys. 

On my arrival at this place, as usual, the Indians had crowded around towelcome me. I was disappointed at not seeing my old friend. So it wasthat at our first meeting, held as soon as possible after my arrival, Iasked the question, "Where is the old man whose head was like the snow-drift?"

To my question there was no response, but every head was bowed as ingrief and sorrow. 

Again I asked: "Tell me, what have you done with the old man with thesnow-white hair?"

Then there was a little whispering among them, and one of them, speakingout softly, said in the Cree language, "Non pimmatissit;" the English ofwhich is, "He is not among the living. "

The poor Indians, who have not as yet come to understand that death is aconquered foe, never like to use the word; and so, when speaking ofthose who have gone, they say they are "not among the living. "

When in this expressive way I learned that my old friend was dead, myheart was filled with sorrow, as I saw also were theirs. After a littlepause I said, "Tell me how he died. "

At first there was a great deal of reluctance to answer this question;but when they saw I was not only anxious but resolved to know all aboutit, they took me into a wigwam where most of his relatives were, andthere a young man, a grandson, got up and told me this pathetic story. 

He said: "Missionary, you had not been long gone with your canoe lastsummer before Mismis, " (the Indian word for "grandfather"), "got verysick, and after some weeks he seemed to know that he was going to leaveus. So he called us all around him, and said a great many things to us. I cannot remember them all, as he spoke many times; but I do rememberthat he said, `how I wish the Missionary would soon come again to talkto me and comfort me! But he is far away, and my memory is bad, and Ihave forgotten what he used to say to me. My body is breaking up, andso also is my memory getting bad. Tell him his coming was like thesunlight on the waters; but it was so seldom that he came that all in mymind has got so dark, and my memory is so bad, that I have forgotten allhe used to say to me. The good things he used to tell us about the GoodSpirit and His Son, and what we ought to do, have slipped away from me. O that he were here to help me! Tell him, as long as I was able; I usedto go up to the point of land that runs out into the lake, and watch ifI could see his canoe returning. But it came not. Tell him I have, since the winter set in, listened for the sound of the bells on his dog-trains. But I have not heard them. O that he were here to help me! Heis far away; so get me my old drum and medicine bag, and let me die asdid my fathers. But you, young people, with good memories, who canremember all the Missionary has said to you, listen to his words, andworship the Great Spirit and His Son, as he tells you, and do not do asI am doing!'

"Then, as we saw his mind was weak, or he would not have asked for hisold things, we got him the old drum, and put it before him where he wassitting upon the ground. We also hung up a medicine bag before him inthe wigwam, and he drummed. As he drummed he fell, and as he fell hedied. But his last words were to the young people with good memories tobe sure and listen to the Missionary, and to give up all their oldIndian sinful paganism. "

When the young man ceased and sat down again, a deep silence fell uponus all, as there we were huddled that cold, stormy day in that littlebark tent. An occasional sob from some sorrowing relative was the onlysound heard for several minutes. 

My own heart was deeply affected when they told me these and otherthings, which I cannot now call up, about the old Indian's death. Aftera while I broke the silence by saying, "Where have you buried him?"

They showed me the place. It was where his wigwam had stood. Soterrible is the power of the Frost King in that land in winter, that todig a grave out in the open places is like cutting through a graniterock. And so in his tent, where burned his fire, thus keeping theground unfrozen, there they dug his grave and buried him. The wigwamwas removed, and soon the fierce storms swept over the place, and thesnow fell deeply upon it, and there was nothing to indicate that there, so shortly before, had been a human habitation. 

When they had pointed out the place where, underneath the snow-drift, rested all that was mortal of my old friend, I lingered until theIndians had sought the shelter of their wigwams from the bitter cold, and then all alone, except with Him Who hears His people's cry, I kneltdown in the snow and prayed, or tried to pray. But I could only weepout my sorrow as I thought of this old man's precious soul passing intoeternity under such strange circumstances. With his waning strength heexhorted his loved ones to be Christians, and yet he himself wasperforming some of the foolish and unmeaning rites of paganism, notbecause he had much faith in them, but because there was no Missionaryor teacher to keep in his memory the story of Jesus and His wondrouslove!

Never before did the wants and woes of the weary, waiting, wailingmillions of earth's perishing ones rise up so vividly as I knelt therein the snow. Before me, through my blinding tears, I seemed to see thempass in dense array, --a dark world, to be illumined; an enslaved world, to be set free; a sinful world, to be made holy; a redeemed world, to besaved. 

In a spirit that perhaps savoured too much of unbelief I cried out, "Howlong, O Lord, how long? Why do Thy chariot wheels delay?"

Saving me from further gloom, came some of the sweet promises of theWord: and so I prayed for their speedy fulfilment. Earnestly did myfeeble petitions ascend, that the time would soon come when not only allthe poor Indians of the great North-West, but also all the unnumberedmillions of earth's inhabitants who are going down from the darkness ofpaganism and superstition to the darkness of the grave, might soon havefaithful teachers to whisper in their ears the story of the Cross, andpoint them to the world's Redeemer. 

Making all the visits we had arranged for that trip, we returned home. Months after, when the packet arrived from Manitoba, the sad news, thathad so filled the Church with sorrow, of the death of the heroic GeorgeMcDougall reached us. Out on the wild prairies he had been caught in ablizzard storm. Horse and man seem to have become bewildered, and therethe noble Missionary to the Indians on the great plains laid himselfdown to die, and his frozen body was not found until after fourteen daysof diligent search. After my dear wife and I had read the story, andtalked and wept about his death, so sad, so mysterious, so inscrutable, she said to me, "Where were you during that week?" The journal wassearched, and we were not a little startled at finding that the race forlife we have in this chapter described was in all probability on thesame day as that on which the Reverend George McDougall perished. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

WORK OUTSIDE THE PULPIT--POLYGAMY AND ITS EVILS--FAMILY RE-ARRANGEMENTS--DANGEROUS WORK AT TIMES--PRACTICAL PASTORAL DUTIES--A FISHSERMON--FIVE MEN WON TO CHRIST. 

While the blessed work of preaching "the glorious Gospel of the Son ofGod" was ever recognised as the most important of our duties, and wewere permitted to rejoice that, as in Paul's time, still "it pleased Godby the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe, " yet therewas a great deal to be done outside of the pulpit ere these Indianscould shake off the fetters of a degrading paganism with its attendantevils. 

The slavish fear of the old conjurers deterred some from openly avowingthemselves as willing to accept the truths of Christianity. Others werepolygamists, and were unwilling to comply with the Scripturalrequirements. To have several wives is considered a great honour insome of the tribes. For a man to separate from all but one is to exposehimself to ridicule from his pagan friends, and also to the danger ofincurring the hostility of the relations of the discarded wives. Someof the most perplexing and trying duties of my missionary life have beenin connection with this matter of re-organising, on a Christian basis, the families of once heathen polygamists, who, desirous to do what wasright, have left the matter entirely in my hands. At first myconvictions and views were that the first wife should always be the oneto remain with the man, and the others should go away. Like all theother Missionaries in the country, I had to modify these ideas, anddecide differently in some peculiar cases. 

For example, a man came to me who was much impressed by the truth, anddesired to be a Christian. I questioned him closely, and found him verysincere and earnest in his resolves. The Spirit was undoubtedly workingin his heart and conscience. He told us he had two wives, but waswilling to put one away. Which one should go, he said he would leave tothe Missionary to decide. His first wife was much the older woman, butshe had no children, while the younger wife had quite a family of littleones around her. So poor are they in this cold northern land that it ishard for the best of them at times to get along. Very sad is thecondition of the widow, or those women who have no able-bodied men ashusbands, fathers, or sons, to hunt and work for them. Worse still isit if they have helpless little children to be cared for. So thedecision we came to was, that the wife with the family of little onesshould remain with the man, and the one who had no children should leavehim. 

We tried to arrange that a certain quantity of help should be renderedto the wife, or wives, put away by the husband. But we found that therewas a certain amount of danger in this, the nature of which will beevident to the reader; and so, while we insisted on the one or more wholeft receiving as large a share as possible of the man's "worldlygoods, " we endeavoured to make the separation complete and final. Tohelp those who for conscience sake thus acted was often a very heavy taxupon our limited means. 

Often the women themselves were the first to insist on a change from theold polygamous style, which, they were quick to see very soon after theGospel was proclaimed to them, was antagonistic to its teachings. 

There was one most thrilling case that moved our hearts, and yet causedus to rejoice, for it showed us the depth of the religious convictionswhich impelled them to have the matter set right, even though one mustbe cast out and exposed to the ridicule of her heathen friends, and tothe loss of a fairly good-natured husband, considering his pagansurroundings. 

Two women came to our Mission House, and asked to have a talk with mygood wife and myself. After talking about different things, at lengththey told us, with much trepidation, that they had attended ourservices, and had a great desire in their hearts to become Christians. We found they were the two wives of an Indian whose wigwam had beenpitched in our vicinity a few weeks before. These women and others hadquietly come to our services at the church, and their hearts andconsciences had been touched by the truth. 

We had had some experiences on these lines, and so with entire strangerswe had learned to be a little cautious. In that country, as well as incivilised lands, it is sometimes a dangerous matter to interfere in thedomestic affairs of other people. So we questioned them closely, andfound that they were resolved to have the matter settled. I asked themif they had spoken to their husband about it, and they answered in theaffirmative; also that he had left it to them to settle which should go, as he likewise had begun to think they ought to live as the ChristianIndians did. We asked them what they wanted us to do, and they saidthat they had decided that they would leave the matter to the Missionaryand his wife, and whichever we thought ought to leave, would go away, and try to get her own living. 

They returned to their wigwam, and with the consent of their husbandmade an equal division of the few things which constituted theirpossessions, such as nets, traps, blankets, kettles, and axes. Then, accompanied by their children, they came again to our house, and satdown apart from each other, and patiently awaited our decision. My wifeand I deeply felt the responsibility of deciding; yet, as it had come tous because of the awakening of their hearts to desire a better life, wecould not do otherwise than accept the situation, and do the best wecould. 

We had talked the matter over, and had asked Divine guidance; and sonow, when summoned to give our decision, we quickly but kindly said tothe woman with five children, "You are to stay with your husband;" andto the other woman, who had four children, we said, "You are not toreturn to the wigwam, but must be from this hour as an entire strangerto it. "

The first woman sprang up, her eyes flashing with joy, and gathering herchildren and property around her she uttered her hasty words offarewell, and was gone. For a few moments the other woman, who haddrawn her blanket over her head, remained perfectly still, with theexception of a suppressed sob, which seemed to make the whole bodyquiver. Soon, with that wonderful will-power which these Indian women, as well as the men, possess, she appeared to have obtained the masteryover herself again, and, uncovering her head, she began to makepreparations for leaving. As she turned her large black eyes dimmedwith tears towards us, while there was no malice in them, there was adespairing sorrow that pierced us like a knife. She seemed to see thelonely, neglected, contemned, suffering life before her; but she hadcounted the cost, and had taken the step for conscience' sake, and shewould not flinch now. We entered into conversation with her, and itseemed almost cruel that we, who had given a decision that had shut upagainst her the only home she had, should begin to talk to her aboutwhere she would go and what she would do. 

She told us she did not know where to go or what to do. Her husband hadbought her from her father, but he was dead; and as her girlhood homewas far away, and she had not been there since her husband took heraway, she knew nothing about any of her relatives. But even if she did, and could find some of them, it was very likely they would treat herwith contempt, and perhaps persecute her. So she had not the slightestidea as to the future. 

Need I write that our hearts were full of sorrow, and we saw that thiswas a case which must have help, no matter how straitened might be ourfinancial circumstances!

We had but lately read the story of the little oil in the cruse, and thehandful of meal in the barrel; and so this woman and her children mustbe helped. While Mrs Young fed them and talked kindly to them, I wentout and got some of my Christian Indians together, and we talked thematter over, and then took off our coats and went to work, and made hera wigwam for the present, as it was in the pleasant summer-time. Acanoe was obtained for her, and her nets were set where white fish couldbe caught readily. She was an industrious woman, willing to doeverything she could; and so, with the help we gave her and the tangiblesympathy manifested by the Christian Indians, she took heart and gotalong very well, and became a good Christian woman. 

As the result of the looseness of the marriage tie in their old sinfullives, we found many strange complicated tangles, some of which it wasimpossible to straighten. To deal with some of them would have causedendless difficulty, without any possibility of improving matters. Torefuse to interfere gave offence to some, who, I am afraid, were morepharisaical than wise. Here, for example, was one case. A couple hadbeen married years ago. After living together for several years andhaving three children, the man went off to Red River as a boatman forthe Hudson's Bay Company. Delayed there for a time, he married a wifein the Indian settlement, and made that place his home, only returningwith his second family about the time I went there. His first wife, ayear or two after he left, not hearing from him, married another man, who supposed she was a widow, and they had several bright, interestingchildren. As the result of the faithful preaching of the Word, thesefamilies were converted, and became good Christians. They felt keenlytheir position, but, after pondering it over and listening to manysolutions, I gave it up; and as the two families were living happily, Ileft them as I had found them. Paganism, not Christianity, wasresponsible for the difficulty. 

At Nelson River I was accosted one day by an old man, who said he hadlistened carefully to what I had said, and wanted to become a Christianand be baptised. I was very much pleased with his talk, but, suspectinghim to be a polygamist, I asked him as to the number of his wives. Hisanswer was that he had four. I had a long conversation with him as toour views, and explained to him the teachings of God's Word, andcandidly told him that I could not baptize him until he put three ofthem away. 

He seemed grieved at my decision, and said that he did want to be aChristian, but he and his wives were getting old, and they had got alongfairly well; and now if he went and told them what he would have to do, he was afraid there would be trouble. As I saw the man was really inearnest, and it was evident that the good Spirit was working upon hisheart, I encouraged him to make the effort, and I told him everythingwould work out all right. 

He went to his large tent, and, getting his large family around him, --for three of these wives had stalwart sons, --he told them of his desireto become a Christian, and what he would have to do before theMissionary would consent to baptize him. At once there was a "row. "The women began to wail, and the sons, who generally treated theirmothers with neglect and indifference, now declared, with a good deal ofemphasis, that their mothers should not be sent away, and thus degradedin the eyes of the people. From what I afterwards learned, there musthave been a rough time. 

At length one of the sons spoke up and said, "Who is causing us all thistrouble?"

The answer was, "Why, it is the Missionary, whom we have all heard, andwho refuses to baptize our father unless he puts away all of his wivesbut one. "

"Let us go for that Missionary, " said several of them, and seizing theirarms, they came for me. 

Fortunately for me I was outside of the trading post on the green, andsaw them coming, and, not liking their suspicious movements, andimagining the cause, I speedily decided on my course of action. Callingone of my reliable Christian Indians, I went quickly towards them, and, ignoring their angry looks, I began talking to them as though we werethe best of friends. Something like the following were my words tothem:--

"Men, you have heard me talk to you out of the great Book. You havelistened attentively. You are thinking about what I have said to you. I wish we could do something, or find out some way, by which you andyour mothers and father could all resolve together to give up the oldbad life, and accept the new one, and become Christians together. Ihave been thinking it over since I had a little talk with your father, and I have a plan that I think will work well. "

While I went on in this way, they listened attentively; and when I cameto mention a plan by which the difficulty could be overcome, the wickedlooks began to fade from their eyes, for they were not anxious to killme if any other solution of the difficulty could be found. 

They were eager to know what I had to suggest, and listened veryattentively when I told them it would not be humiliating to any one. Itold them I was pleased to find some young men who were willing to standup for their mothers, while the great majority treated them worse thanthey did their dogs. My suggestion was, that the sons of each mothershould form a wigwam of their own, and take their own mother with themand care for her. They were good hunters and strong men, and could dowell. Then I added, "Let your father remain with the wife who has nochildren, no strong sons or daughters. Do this, and the Great Spiritwill be pleased, and when you are further instructed there will benothing to prevent you all being baptized and becoming Christianstogether. "

They were much pleased with the suggestion, and went away to talk itover. I did not succeed in getting the scheme immediately carried out, but my successor, the devoted and heroic Reverend John Semmens, was sosuccessful in following up the work thus begun, that these Indians, withmany scores of others, have become sincere, consistent Christians. 

Various were the plans adopted by my zealous, devoted wife and myself tohelp the people up to a better and happier life. In their old waysthere were but few efforts made by the women to keep their homes neatand tidy, and their children or themselves clean. They had noencouragements to do anything of the kind. Kicked and cuffed anddespised, there was left in them no ambition to do anything more thanwould save them from the rough treatment of those who consideredthemselves their lords and masters. The result was, when they becameChristians, there was a great deal to learn ere their simple littlehomes could be kept decently, and in order. Fortunately, with a greatmany of them there was a desire to learn. A novel plan that we adopted, as one among many that did much good, was occasionally to go and dinewith some of them. Our method was something like this. On the Sabbathfrom the pulpit I would announce that on Monday, if all was well, MrsYoung and I would dine with such a family, mentioning the name. OnTuesday we would dine with some one else, and on Wednesday with someother family, and so on for the week. This was, of course, the firstintimation any of these families had received that, without waiting foran invitation, the Missionary and his wife were coming to dine withthem. 

After service they waited to ask us if they could believe their ownears. 

"Yes, certainly, " I replied. 

"Why, we have nothing to set before you but fish, " they would say. 

"Never mind if you have but little; we will see to the food. All we areanxious for you to do is to have your little house as clean as you canpossibly make it, and yourselves and children as clean and nice aspossible. "

In this way we would talk to the half-frightened women, who were atfirst really alarmed at the prospect of having to entertain us; however, our words comforted them, and they went off delighted. 

Our plan was generally as follows. I would start off after breakfastand make several pastoral visits, or attend to some other matters, andso arrange my forenoon work that I should be able to reach the Indianhome, where that day we had announced to dine, about noon. Mrs Youngwould have her own train of dogs harnessed up about ten o'clock. In hercariole she would put dishes, tablecloth, and provisions, witheverything else requisite for a comfortable dinner considering ourlimited circumstances. A faithful young Indian acted as her dog-driver, and soon she and her load were at the home of the expectant family, whowere all excitement at the coming of the Missionary and his wife. 

Very clean and tidy looked the little house and family. The floor hadbeen scrubbed and rubbed until it could not be made whiter, andeverything else was similarly polished up. As but very few of thehouses had tables in those days, the floor was ever used as thesubstitute. On it the tablecloth was spread, and the dishes and knivesand forks were arranged in order, and the dinner prepared. If thefamily had fish and potatoes, some of them would be cooked; but if not, sufficient was always taken in the cariole. We ever found it best tolet them contribute to the dinner if they had abundance of either fishor potatoes. 

About the time I arrived dinner would be ready, and after cheering wordsof greeting to all, even to the fat papoose in the board cradle, we satdown, picnic style, on the floor to dinner. It would be called incivilised lands a plain dinner, and so it was; yet it was a feast tothem, a banquet to us. Cheery conversation added to our enjoyment, anda very happy hour was thus spent. Then the Bible and hymn-books werebrought out, and together we sang and read and talked about the blessedtruths of that glorious Book. Then together we kneeled down, and "byprayer and supplication with thanksgiving" made our requests known toGod; and to us came the sweet fulfilment, "the peace of God, whichpasseth all understanding, " filled our hearts. 

I generally hurried off to other duties. Mrs Young directed in thewashing of the dishes and in putting them away, and then helped thewoman of the house in some things about which she was longing forassistance. Perhaps it was a dress to be cut out for herself, or somegarments fitted on some of the girls, or other similar things toointricate or difficult for my obtuse mind to be able to grasp. 

Thus from house to house we would go, and by our presence and cheerywords encourage them to become more industrious and tidy. Thosefamilies never forgot these visits. With many of them there was amarked change in their homes, and with many also there was a markedimprovement in their religious life. 

Once, in preaching from the text, "Behold, I stand at the door, andknock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in, " Itried to describe the blessed Redeemer coming to our hearts and knockingfor admittance. I told them, all He wanted was a welcome to come in. As they made their little houses so clean, and gave the Missionary andhis wife such a welcome, so the Saviour asked us to drive all sin out, and give Him all the place. 

"Some of you said, `We cannot entertain the Missionary; we have no food, so there will be no dinner. ' But the Missionary and his wife broughtabundance, and there was a good dinner. Better far is it when Jesuscomes. He spreads out the feast, and He invites us to sit down andfeast with Him. O let Him in!"

Such talks as these, after practical illustrations, opened many heartsto the Heavenly Guest. 

So many and importunate had been the pleading calls for visits todifferent places, to tell the wonderful story of the Great Spirit andhis Son, and to teach the people to read His Book, that one year mycanoe trip to Oxford House Mission had to be delayed until the summerwas nearly ended. But my comrades were splendid fellows, and we startedoff in good spirits, anticipating a successful visit; and we were notdisappointed. 

We preached several times to the Indians, and baptized a large number ofchildren; some young couples were married, and we had a solemn andblessed time when celebrating the dying of the Lord Jesus. TheSacrament of the Lord's Supper is very much prized by the Indians, andthe greatest reverence is always manifested during the service. Thefellowship meeting was a very good one, and some of the testimoniesgiven by the men and women, so happily rescued by the Gospel's power, were of great interest. 

When travelling, if the weather was good, we generally rose with thefirst blush of morn, and so were often on the way by four o'clock. Sometimes our route was across fine lakes, or along majestic rivers; andthen we were in narrow, sluggish streams, that were destitute of beautyor interest. One morning our way was down a large river, on the shoresof which the fog had settled, completely hiding us from land. The earlymorning air was invigorating, and so in unison we were plying ourpaddles vigorously, and rapidly speeding along. We had seen no signs ofhuman beings for days, and so were surprised and startled when severalreports of firearms in quick succession sounded sharp and clear throughthe fog on our right. Nothing was visible through the gloom, but wequickly hove to, and turned our canoe in the direction from which the_feu-de-joie_ had sounded. As we approached the shore human forms beganto appear in ghostly outline, more and more distinct, until theyresolved themselves into a company of Indians, who were delighted to seeus, and had been on the look-out for days. They had come sixty milesfrom the interior, and had camped on that point jutting out into theriver, for the purpose of having a visit from us as we passed. 

The fact that they detected us as we were passing was another evidenceof the marvellous education, in certain lines, of these Indians. It wasvery early in the morning; our canoe was some hundreds of yards from theshore; a dense fog hid us completely from each other. All the noise wemade was the dip of our paddles in the water. Yet these wide-awake, alert Indians heard that sound, and by the rapid firing of the guns drewus to them. 

We shared their hospitality, as they had abundance of game. We hadservice with them, married a young couple, baptized several children, and had a pleasant time. Then on we hurried, since the time of opennavigation was drawing to a close, and we did not wish to be caught inthe ice, and have to walk perhaps scores of miles with our bedding, provisions, kettles, axes, and other things strapped on our backs. 

We made the greater part of the return trip all right, had reached HarryLake early in the forenoon, and were rapidly paddling out of the riverwhich entered into it, when again we heard the report of guns. Soanxious were we to get on that we hesitated about stopping. It was nowlater in the season than often in some other years. Fierce storms hadraged, and the ice had formed on the lake and rivers. We were dreadingthese fierce fall storms, which come down very suddenly, and stir upthose northern lakes, so that in a very short time where all was calmand still, great foam-crested waves go rushing madly by. 

The lake before us, into which we had just entered and which was severalmiles in diameter, was now as placid as a pond. 

To cross it now, as in wondrous beauty it spread before us, would be buta pleasure jaunt. The poetry of motion is to be found in the Indian'sbirch canoe, when the water is calm and the sky is clear. Cold-heartedprudence said, "Go on, and never mind those Indians' signals for you toland. " Our better natures said, "They may be in need, and have goodreason for asking you to stop. Perhaps you can do them good. " So weturned the head of our canoe to the shore, and were soon alongside therock on which we saw them standing. They were five hunters. Withoutgetting out of the canoe, we asked why they had signalled to us to comeashore. Their answer was one we had often heard before. They werehungry, and wanted help. Finding they had only been a few days awayfrom the Fort, where they had got supplies, I asked how it was that theywere so badly off. Their reply was that they had unfortunately lefttheir powder, which they were carrying in a canvas bag, out on the rocka few nights before. While they slept the rain came down upon them andruined it, and so they could not shoot anything. I quickly said to oneof my men, "How much food have we?" He examined our limited supply, andthen said there was about one square meal. 

We found these men were pagan Indians, whom I had met before, and hadtalked with about becoming Christians; but all I could get from them wasthe characteristic Indian shrug of the shoulders, and the words, "As ourfathers lived, so will we. " Our dinner was the last of a bear we hadshot a few days before. While it was cooking the storm which we fearedbegan to gather, and ere our dinner was finished the lake looked verydifferent from what it was an hour before. If we had not stopped, wecould have easily got across it. As it was now, it would have beenmadness to have ventured out upon it. So we had to pull up our canoe, and there, as contentedly as possible, wait for the storm to cease. Itraged furiously all that day and the next. The third day it began tomoderate. What made it worse for us was the scarcity, or rather theentire absence, of food. We were unfortunately storm-bound in about theworst part of that country for game. It was so late in the season thatthe ducks and geese had gone south, the beaver and musk-rats were intheir houses, and we could find nothing. On some of our trips wecarried fishing-tackle, but this time we had nothing of the kind. Fortunately we had some tea and sugar. 

Without breakfast, dinner, or supper, we had to live on as best wecould. Before we lay down to sleep there had to be a considerabletightening of the belts, or there would be no sleep at all, so keen werethe gnawings of hunger. I found it helpful to sleep to roll up my towelas hard as possible, and then crowd it under my tight belt over the pitof my stomach. Nearly three days without food was no pleasant ordealeven in missionary work. 

We held several religious services, even though our congregation was asmall one. We also found out that it was not at all helpful to piety totry to worship on an empty stomach, and have been ever since in greatsympathy with these who would feed the poor first, and then preach tothem. 

The third day one of the Indians, while walking along the shore, foundthe old bleached shoulder-blade of a bear. With his knife he carved outa rude fish-hook, and, taking the strings of his moccasins, and those ofothers, he formed a line. A piece of red flannel was used as bait, anda small stone served as a sinker. With this primitive arrangement hebegan fishing. His method was to stand on a rock and throw the hook outas far as his line would permit, and then draw it in rapidly, liketrolling. 

Strange to say, with this rude appliance he caught a fish. It was apike weighing six or eight pounds. Very quickly was it scaled, cleaned, and put in the pot. When cooked, about a third of it was put on my tinplate, and placed before me with these words: "Please, Missionary, eat. "I looked at the hungry men around me and said, "No, that is not theway. " And then I put back the third of the fish with the rest, and, taking out my hunting knife, I counted the company, and then cut thefish into eight pieces, and gave each man his eighth, and took an equalportion myself. It was right that I should thus act, and it seemed tobe a little thing to do, but it was a sermon that led those five men tobecome Christians. As soon as they had finished their portions they littheir pipes, and as they smoked they talked; and as near as I and my mencould make out, here is what they said:

"We must listen with both ears to that Missionary. He is here withoutfood, suffering from hunger, because he stopped to share with us hislast meal. We caught a fish, and when we offered him a large piece herefused it, and divided equally with us all. He has been anxious to dous good and to have us to listen to his words. He has not once scoldedus for asking him to stop, although he could have got across the lakebefore the storm arose, and, as the rest of the way is in the river, hecould have gone on home. He has shown himself to be our friend, and wemust listen to what he has to say. " Thus they went on, and I mustconfess I paid but little attention to what they were saying. After afew hours more the storm went down, and we gladly embarked that eveningin our canoe and pushed on. 

The next day we reached the Mission village of Rossville, making ourlast portage at Sea River Falls, near Norway House; and as we saw thefish and venison hanging on the stagings around the houses of thepeople, my patient fellows cried out, "We should like to laugh at thesight of food, but we are too empty altogether. "

We paddled the last mile as quickly as we had any other, and kept up ourcourage until we were home. As I entered the house, a strange faintnesscame over me, and all the welcome words I could give to my loved oneswere, "My dear, we are starving; please get us some food. " Then I sankdown exhausted. Loving care from one of the best and bravest of wivesquickly brought me round again, and I was soon ready to be off onanother trip. 

The long winter passed away, and the welcome summer came at last. Wehave really very little of spring in that northern land. The transitionfrom winter to summer is very rapid. With the disappearance of the icefrom the lakes and rivers came the Indians in their birch canoes, fromvarious quarters where they had spent the winter in trapping the fur-bearing animals. As usual they came to see the Missionary in goodlynumbers. Among those who thus honoured us were five big men, who, aftera few words of greeting, said, "We hope you have not forgotten the fish;we have not, and we want to have a talk with you. "

"Fish?" I said. "Why, we have fish twenty-one times a week, boiled, baked, fried, salt, dried, --good, bad, and indifferent. I have seen somany fishes, I cannot think of any one in particular. "

Then they told me about the long delay by the storm, when I had stoppedand fed them, at the time when they had not kept their powder dry; andhow, when one of them caught a fish and offered me a good-sized piece, Idivided it equally among them. As they brought the incident back to mymemory, for there were so many strange adventures occurring in the wildlife that this one had partly faded, I said: "Yes, I now remember theredid happen something of the kind. "

Very earnestly spoke up one of them and said: "We have never forgottenit, and all through the moons of the winter we have talked about it andyour lessons out of the great Book. And while up to that time we haddecided not to be Christians, but to die as did our fathers, we havechanged our minds since that time you divided the fish, and we want youto teach us more and more of this good way. "

They were intensely in earnest and fully decided for Christ. So fivemore families settled down in the Christian village, and are givingevidence by their lives and conversation that the change wrought in themwas real and abiding. Their conversion in this peculiar way was verycheering to us, and it was another lesson to be "instant in season, outof season. "

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

EXPLORING NEW FIELDS--THE GOSPEL BEFORE TREATIES--BIG TOM'S NOBLE SPIRITOF SELF-SACRIFICE. 

In 1873 I received a most urgent request from a deputation of Indians togo and visit a band of their countrymen who lived on the western side ofLake Winnipeg at a place called Jack Head. They were getting unsettledand uneasy in their minds in reference to their lands. Treaties werebeing made with other tribes, but nothing as yet had been done for them;and as surveyors and other white men had been seen in their country, they were suspicious, and wanted to know what they had better do. 

So, after many councils among themselves, they decided to send over intothe land of the Crees and Salteaux for their Missionary to come and givethem advice, in order that they too might make a treaty with theGovernment of the Queen. 

I felt much pleased on receiving this deputation; and as it would giveme a grand opportunity to preach the Gospel to a people who had not asyet heard it, I consented to go. With two dog-trains, and accompaniedby a couple of trusty Indians, we left the Eastern side of the greatLake Winnipeg about sunrise. We dug a hole in the snow at Pigeon Point, and there made a fire of some dry young willows, and enjoyed ourbreakfast. From that point we struck out in a south-west directionacross the great lake. The day, although cold, was a very bright one. The ice was good, and our dogs were magnificent fellows; and so we spedalong at a rapid rate. We reached a chain of little islands out in themiddle of the lake early in the afternoon. On the shore of one of themwe gathered some dry wood, cleared away the snow, made a fire, meltedsome snow, and made ourselves a good kettle of tea. This, with somepemmican and flat cakes, made us a capital dinner. 

From this island the western shore of the lake was just visible, overthirty miles away. Towards it we pushed as rapidly as possible, considering that one of our Indians was quite an old man. When withinabout three miles of the shore, the report of fire-arms reached ourears, telling us that the Indians had observed our coming. Our nobledogs seemed to rejoice at the sound as much as ourselves, and, wellknowing that their day's journey of over sixty miles was nearly ended, changed their swinging trot into a gallop; and very soon we were at Jackhead, and among its plumed and painted inhabitants, by whom we werereceived in a most extraordinary manner. 

At some other places where I have gone as the first Missionary who evervisited them, I have had two or three hundred men, women, and childrentrying to see who could be the first to kiss me; but here the receptionwas very different. Night was just falling upon us as we drew near theshore, but there was light enough to observe that the narrow trail, upfrom the lake into the dark recesses of the forest, along which we mustpass with our dog-trains, was lined with men armed with guns. 

When we were about a hundred yards from them, the foremost ones beganfiring. This _feu-de-joie_ continued until we had reached them and haddashed through the lines of fire, for they continued loading and firingas rapidly as possible. Our ears were almost deafened with thecontinuous reports, and our nerves were somewhat tried, as the youngerbraves especially consider it great fun to fire off their heavy chargesof powder as close to their visitors' heads as possible. But a well-singed fur cap was the only evidence of harm having been done. 

To increase the welcome, they courteously brought out for our specialbenefit the few English and French words of which they were masters. Some of them were most ludicrously out of place. It did require a gooddeal of nerve to keep my face straight when a grave and dignified chief, who wished to inquire politely as to my health, for the moment droppedhis own language, and in good English said, "Does your mother knowyou're out?" I found out afterwards that a roguish fur-trader hadtaught him the expression, as a very polite one to use to distinguishedstrangers. 

We quickly unharnessed and fed our faithful dogs. We hung up in thetrees our sleds and harness beyond the reach of the wolfish curs, whichin large numbers prowled around. If they could get the opportunity, they would make short work of the deer-skin and raw-hide fastenings ofthe sleds, and the harness would entirely disappear, with perhaps theexception of the buckles. We waited until our big dogs had given a fewof the most impudent and saucy of these brutes a good thrashing, so thatthere was some prospect of peace; and then, feeling that our outsidework was attended to, and that the Indians had had time to get arrangedin their council room, we went to the door, and were ceremoniouslyushered in. The council house was a large square log building of muchbetter construction than I had expected to see. It was withoutpartitions, and was lighted by the brilliant council fire, and a numberof fish oil lamps hanging from the walls. At the places of honour wereseated the chiefs of the band. Their "thrones of state" were curiouslywoven mats of rushes made by the Indian women. Their head-dresses weregorgeous masses of feathers, and their costume was very picturesque. Some of them had not yet adopted the pantaloons of civilisation, butwore instead the scant leggings of native manufacture. 

From the chiefs on either side and extending around the room in circles, were the old men and warriors and hunters, ranged according to theirrank and standing. Behind these were the young men and boys. All wereseated on the ground, and all were silent, as I entered. The chiefswere fine-looking men, and there was that indescribable _hauteur_ now sorarely seen among this interesting people. Crowded out behind the menand boys, and in many places packed against the walls of the house, werethe women and girls. While the men were in many instances well andoften brilliantly dressed in their finery, the women and girls werewretchedly clothed, and miserable in appearance. 

The house was filled, with the exception of a small space reserved atthe right hand of the principal chief for the visitors. With a gooddeal of ceremony we were escorted to our seats. For me they hadobtained a little box, on which a fur robe was placed, as they saidafterwards, that they had heard that white men cannot sit comfortably onthe ground. On this I seated myself next to the chief, and my attendantIndians ranged themselves beside me. During the profound silence thatlasted for several minutes after our entrance, I had a good opportunityto grasp the situation. I breathed an earnest prayer to God for themuch-needed wisdom, and that I might here preach the Gospel in such away that it might be understood and accepted by this people, themajority of whom had not as yet heard the glad tidings of salvation. 

Then I rose up and, addressing the chief, I said: "I have come at yourrequest from across the great Winnipeg, to visit you and to meet you atyour council fire. I will preach to you and discuss treaty matters withyou, and will help you all I can with the Government. I want to findout your views about giving up your old paganism and becomingChristians. I also want to know how many children you have among you, and if you desire a school for them. So I am here for these reasons. "

When I sat down, the calumet, the pipe of peace, was gravely lit, andafter the chief had puffed away at it, he handed it to me. As I havenot as yet acquired the art of smoking, I adopted the plan of takinghold of the long stem, which is over a yard in length, by the middle. The result was that when my hand was near my mouth, the mouthpiece ofthe pipe was a foot or so behind my head. As previously arranged, oneof my obliging Indians was always on hand to do my smoking. 

After the pipe ceremony was over, the chief began his address ofwelcome. He said a good many kind things, and told me of theiranxieties as to their future and that of their children. The fire-canoe(the steamboat) was rushing through the waters, destroying theirfisheries. The white hunters, with their fire guns and steel traps, were fast killing off the game. The surveyor was driving his lines ofstakes into the ground, and the white people, more numerous thanmosquitoes, were crowding in on the prairies. They had nothing butpeace in their hearts, but still he could not help thinking that atreaty ought to be made with them before the fire canoe or the surveyorcame. They were powerless themselves to speak before the Queen'srepresentative, the Governor. They had heard of the Missionary's lovefor the Indian, and so they had sent across the great Winnipeg for him, and their hearts were glad that he had come. With their right handsthey had fired off their guns, which all said, "Welcome!" With his lefthand he had handed the pipe of peace, which also from the heart againsaid, "Welcome!" Their hearts were all glad that with their eyes theysaw the Missionary among them. Their ears were now open to hear what hehad to say about their future, and what he thought the Queen's men woulddo for them. 

Then he sat down on his mat, and I rose up and in reply said: "Before Idare talk to you about treaties, and lands, and your future for thislife, and that of your children, I must speak about something moreimportant. "

This seemed to astonish them, and they said: "What has he got to talkabout that is more important than the treaty?"

"Yes, " I answered, "I have something more important than the treaty, andsomething to say about One greater than the Queen, or the Governor shesends; for I must first talk about our great God, Whom the Queen and weall must love if we would be happy. The Great Spirit, our good Fatherin heaven, wants to make a treaty with us; and if we will be willing tocomply with His conditions, it will be the best treaty ever made, for itwill bring us joy and happiness for this life and the life to come. "

Loud were their words of approval that I should thus speak to them; andso I preached to them, making use of my trusted and careful interpreter, Timothy Bear, who is as thorough a master of the Saulteaux language ashe is of the Cree. Considering that it was the first sermon they hadever heard, and that their ideas of our worship were very crude, theybehaved remarkably well, seeing they were a crowd of plumed and paintedsavages, and Saulteaux besides. They kept up a constant smoking throughall the service, except when we were singing or at prayer. Men, women, and children were all at it, and it seemed as though they were always atit. 

Before I got through my sermon I was almost suffocated by the smoke. The cloud, not that for which we had prayed, overwhelmed us, blinded us, and nearly smothered us. It was the cloud of their vile weeds andtobacco. As well as I could I talked to them of God and his love, andof the way of salvation, and the blessings which would come to them ifthey would cheerfully and heartily accept Him. We then sang the Jubileehymn, --

 "Blow ye the trumpet, blow. "

This hymn has been translated into their language. The tune we used was"Lennox, " and I urged them to help us to sing. I gave out the hymnverse by verse, and said, "Sing as well as you can. " Some followed verywell, and others, while trying to follow the words, seemed to havesubstituted for the tune one of their Indian lilts. After the religiousservice was over, we hastily boiled our kettles, made tea, and had oursuppers, for we had travelled far, and were very hungry. The Indianshad nothing themselves but tea, fish, and tobacco. I never saw suchsmokers. Even little unweaned children were adepts in the use of thepipe. 

After tea the ceremonious speeches were delivered. The head chief wasof course the first to speak again. His address was very complimentary. He said he had been gazing all day long across the great lake watchingfor my coming. Although it was several moons since, I had promised thatin this one, if possible, I would be on hand. My coming just at thetime I did, showed that I was a man of my word, and could be dependedupon. 

"We feel, " he said, "that we Indians are but children in the presence ofthe whites. Great changes are taking place. The buffalo and deer onceso abundant are fast disappearing. Our fathers told us long ago thatthe buffalo was the special gift of the Great Spirit to the Indian, andthat when it disappeared the Indian must go also. But in your words youtell us good things about the Great Spirit, and we are thankful that youhave come. We wish you could live among us and thus talk to us. "

Thus he and others talked for a long time. 

We went over the business of the approaching treaty, and I told them allI knew about the matter, and assured them that they need have no fear oralarm. The Dominion Government would treat them honourably and fairly. More tobacco was smoked, and extra kettles of tea were made and drunk, and then I was told that as an additional mark of their thankfulness tome for thus coming with these assuring and quieting words, they nowwished to give me the tribal ceremony of the greatest welcome, which wasonly given at rare intervals, and then only when the best of news cameto them. 

The room was quickly rearranged for the ceremony. The crowd in thecentre of the room was moved back, much to the discomfort of the womenand girls, some of whom were roughly ejected to make room for theirtyrants and masters. Then some drums were brought in, and betweentwenty and thirty of the most active and agile young men, dressed, orrather undressed, in their picturesque way, seated themselves closelyaround the men who were to act as drummers. The first part of theceremony was supposed to be a kind of a concert, part musical and partpantomime. 

To describe it with its monotonous drumming and shrill songs, which theysaid were words of welcome, is altogether beyond my powers. At certainplaces in the songs, ten or twenty of the young men would spring up intheir places, and without moving their feet from the ground would gothrough such strong, undulating, graceful motions, and yet all in suchperfect unison with each other and with the music, that I was almostfascinated by the strange weird beauty of the scene. 

Then their programme changed, and rapidly they glided around in simpleand intricate movements, but all in perfect time to the songs and drums. 

Not satisfied with giving me the welcome of their own tribe, they alsogave me the still more exciting Sioux welcome, and also that of the wildCrees in the Saskatchewan. Until long after midnight these scenes werebeing enacted. Then word was passed round that the supply of tobaccodevoted to the welcome ceremonies was exhausted, for through all ofthese scenes the pipes were only out of the mouths of the performers. All the rest of the crowd smoked without apparent cessation. 

This intimation of the exhaustion of the supply of tobacco abruptlyclosed the ceremony. Such is their custom. Some more tea was made anddrunk by the chiefs. Then the Missionary's hand was shaken, and thepeople quickly flitted away to their wigwams. A supper, consisting ofbeautiful fish, called "gold eyes, " which are caught by the youngIndians in the rapid river at the foot of the Rude Water Slide, was thenmuch enjoyed. 

One of my faithful Indians brought in my camp bed, and unrolled it nearthe council fire. I rolled myself up in a blanket and buffalo robe, andthere on the ground I soon fell asleep, for I was very weary. Atdaybreak we arose, and had our breakfast cooked at the council fire. While eating it, many of the Indians crowded in to see us ere we leftfor our home across Lake Winnipeg. With them we held another religiousservice. I talked kindly and faithfully to them, and urged them todecide speedily to forsake their old pagan habits and become Christians;telling them that now, as they were making treaties and entering upon anew way of obtaining a living, they should adopt the religion of thegreat Book. 

With them we sang a hymn, and then kneeled down and prayed. Devoutlyand reverently did they bow with us at the Mercy-seat. When we rose upfrom our knees, a young man spoke up on behalf of the young people. Hesaid they were glad I had come, and hoped I would come again. Theirminds were dark; would I soon come back and bring in the light?

I said all I could to encourage them to seek after the great Light, andpromised to come again. We harnessed up our dogs, and, in company withmy attendant Indians, I started for home. A wild blizzard storm camedown upon us from the north when we were far out from land. We toiledon through it as well as we could, although at times unable to see adozen feet ahead of us. Often we got bewildered by its fury, as itseemed to circle and eddy around us; but Jack was in the foremost train, and so we safely reached the other shore, and did not for many a daycease to think about some of the strange features of this adventuroustrip, in which in after years we found much real good had been done. 

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As we have been referring to treaties and the excitement there was inthe minds of the Indians in reference to the new relationship in whichthey would stand to the Government, it may be well here to put uponrecord the noble spirit of one of our Indians, on whom honours weredesired to be conferred by his people. 

When the Dominion Government of Canada took possession of theterritories so long held by the Hudson's Bay Company, they began to makearrangements for treaties with all the Indian tribes. Word came out tous at Rossville Mission House, that the Government wished the Indians toelect one of their number as chief, with whom they could make a treaty, and whom they could confer with if difficulties arose in the future. They wished the people to select a wise, judicious man, in whom allconfidence could be placed. 

Naturally the Indians were very much excited at this new order ofthings, and so there were many councils and much speech-making. A gooddeal of curiosity was expressed to know what benefits would result, andhow much money would be received by each of them. While there was stillmuch uncertainty about these things, it had become well known that theone selected to be chief would fare very well. He would have more moneyand presents than any other. He would be presented with a silver medalwith the face of the "Great Mother, " the Queen, upon it, and would behonoured with the personal friendship of the Governor, and with otherhonours naturally dear to the Indian. 

After many councils the people came to the almost unanimous conclusionthat Big Tom should be their chief. In a full council, with muchceremony, they offered him the position. Instead of seizing theproffered honours with avidity, his face became very grave, and it wasevident he was full of suppressed emotion. When he arose, as allsupposed, to indicate his acceptance of the position, and to express histhanks, they were very much surprised to hear him quietly say that hecould not answer fully now, but desired a day to think it over. So heasked the council to adjourn until the following morning. 

Of course this request was complied with, and, full of curiosity, thepeople thronged the building the next day. I had naturally taken a deepinterest in the matter, as, next to their spiritual interests, I wasanxious to do all I could for their temporal welfare. So I attendedmany of their meetings. The council was opened in due form, and thenBig Tom arose to give his answer. He began quietly and slowly, butwarmed up a good deal before he ended. 

He spoke, in substance, as follows:--

"Long ago, when the Missionaries came and preached to us, for a time werefused to listen to them, and would not become Christians. Then, aftera while, many of us who had been in the darkness began to feel in ourhearts that what they told us was for our good; and so we accepted ofthese things, and they have done us good. When I got the assurance inmy heart that I was a child of God, and had a soul that should live forever, I found that in working out its salvation I had something great tolive for. To do this was the great object of my life. By-and-by Imarried, and then, as my family increased and began to grow up aroundme, I found I had another object for which to live. To help them alongin the way to heaven, as well as to work for their comfort here, was mysecond great work. Then, after a while, the Missionary gave me thecharge of a class. I was to meet with them, and we were to talktogether about our souls and God's love to us, and to do all we could tohelp each other on to the better land. To do my duty as the leader wasa great and important work. While attending to these duties, I found Ihad another object for which to live. These three things, --1. My ownsoul's salvation; 2. The salvation of my family; and 3. To do all Ican to help and encourage the members of my class to be true andfaithful to Him Who died for us, that we may see him by-and-by, --are theuppermost things in my heart. 

"I am thankful for your confidence in me in asking me to be your chief. I know it is a great honour, but I see it will have manyresponsibilities, and that whoever has the position will have to attendto many other things than those which I have my mind set upon. So youmust appoint some one else, for with those three things I cannot letanything else interfere. I thank you, my brothers, and love you all. "

In this strain he went on for a long while, and then sat down. No onethought any the less of the noble Christian man; and David Bundle, whowas appointed, ever found in Big Tom a wise and judicious counsellor andfriend. I was thrilled by the address and the spirit manifested. Howfew white men in like circumstances would have had grace and self-denialenough to have acted in a similar manner!

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

THE MISSION AMONG THE SAULTEAUX ESTABLISHED--NELLY'S DEATH--MISSIONARYANNIVERSARIES ATTENDED--REVEREND THOMAS CROSBY--TRAVELLING ADVENTURES--MORE WORKING WITH DOGS--OUR NEW HOME--VISIT FROM A CHIEFTAINESS--CLOSINGWORDS. 

After a great deal of correspondence it was decided that I should beginthe work at Beren's River among the Saulteaux Indians who lived there, and in little bands scattered along the eastern shores of that greatlake, and in the interior, most of them in extreme poverty andsuperstitious degradation. A few of them, as the result of acquaintancewith our Christian Indians of other places, were groping after the greatLight, and trying to lift themselves up socially in life. 

The Reverend John H Ruttan was appointed to Norway House, the ReverendOrrin German to Oxford House, and I was put down for Beren's River. 

As it was advisable that I should remain at Norway House until mysuccessor, Brother Ruttan, arrived, and as there was only oneopportunity for a long time for Mrs Young and the children to return toRed River, they availed themselves of it, poor and miserable as it was. 

With loving "farewells" I wished them success on their journey, and sawthem off. Sandy Harte, our adopted Indian lad, and I sailed down to theold Norway House, about twenty miles from our home, and there saying"Good-bye, " we returned to our lonely home. 

Mrs Young had with her our three darling children, Eddie, Lilian, andNelly. All were well and full of the best of spirits as the sail washoisted, and we saw them glide away before the favouring gale. PreciousNelly we never saw again. So terrible was the heat, and so miserablewere the accommodations in that little open boat, without deck or awningor cabin, that the child sickened and died. 

As we have referred to this sad event in an earlier chapter, we need notdwell upon it here. What the poor mother felt and suffered as, sickherself, she saw her beautiful child attacked by brain fever, and thendroop and die amidst surroundings so sad and trying, can be realised bybut few. God knows all about it. As mentioned, the venerableArchdeacon Cowley's sympathy did much to raise up Mrs Young's crushedspirits and dry her bitter tears. 

I remained at Norway House until Brothers Ruttan and German arrived; andthen, after having spent a Sabbath with them, and seen Mr Ruttan andhis noble young wife cheerfully and hopefully entered upon their blessedwork among the people, to whom I had become very much attached, Istarted off for Beren's River. Sandy Harte, the Nelson River lad, wentwith me as far as my first camping place, and spent the night with me. We read the sacred Word together, and then, after singing a Hymn, webowed in prayer. We lay down together, but we had so much to say, thathours passed away ere we slept. 

Early the next morning we were aroused from our slumbers by the cry of"Fair wind, " and so no time must be lost. I was very much surprised tofind that during the night some scores of Indians had come on in theircanoes from the Mission, although it was many miles away, to shake handswith their Missionary once more, and say a final "Farewell. "

After a hasty breakfast we assembled on the shore for prayers. We sangin Cree a favourite hymn:--

 "Jesus, my All, to heaven is gone, He Whom I fix my hopes upon. His path I see, and I'll pursue The narrow way till Him I view. "

We closed by singing the Doxology, and then, after prayers, I sadly said"Good-bye, " and shook hands again with them all. I found it hard tobreak away from them. Many of them were in tears, who seldom weptbefore. Coming to my beloved Sandy last, I put my arm around his neckand kissed him as there he stood, weeping as though his heart wouldbreak. With a "God bless you all, " I sprang into the boat, which wasquickly pushed off from the shore, and then the long journey to the landof the Saulteaux was begun. 

After some of the usual incidents of travel I reached Beren's River, andwas most enthusiastically received by the Indians. The man who hadsaid, "Our eyes were dim from long watching, " now said that they weredim with tears of joy that he had lived to see the day when a Missionaryof their own lived among them. As I was to leave before the lake frozeup, every day was precious. I pitched a canvas tent, and in it livedfor several weeks. All assembled once every week-day for religiousworship, and then, when that was over, the Missionary and men took offtheir coats and went to work. The spot for the Mission was decidedupon, and then acre after acre of the forest from this place, and alsofrom where each Indian had decided to build, was rapidly being clearedof the forest trees. We held three services every Lord's day, and sawthat the school for the children was faithfully kept up. 

Getting everything in good shape, and leaving Martin Papanekis, a devoutand trusty Christian Indian from the Norway House Mission, in charge, Istarted in a birch canoe, with Big Tom as principal canoe-man, for RedRiver. 

Of our adventures and dangers I need not write, although there wereseveral on that long journey in such a frail craft. One complete upsetchilled me most thoroughly, as the water was about down to freezingpoint. At one place, where we tried to push on all night, we weretantalised by some most brilliant "Will-o'-the-wisp" lights, which ourexperienced Indians thought were decoy signals put out by wicked Indiansto bewilder or injure us. Canoe travelling on this great lake is riskybusiness. The storms come up with surprising rapidity, and the wavesrise up like those of the ocean. However, we had a good canoe, and BigTom was in charge; and He Who holds the winds and the waves in His fistswas our Father and our Friend. 

At Red River I called on the Reverend Archdeacon Cowley at his IndianMission home. Very cordial and sympathetic was he, as I introducedmyself, and told him I had come to accept of his kind offer, and seek insome part of the quiet graveyard of his Mission Church a little placewhere I could bury the body of my darling child. He at once went withme and showed me all kindness and help, as also did Mr Flett and hisfamily, of the Hudson's Bay Company's Service. As we laid away thebeautiful child, and the solemn words, "Earth to earth, dust to dust, "were uttered, we felt that there was now an additional tie holding us tothat country and work. 

In due time I reached Toronto, and there met the Missionary Secretaries, and obtained from them an outline of the work before me. Here it was mygreat joy to meet for the first time the Reverend Thomas Crosby, theenergetic and successful Missionary from British Columbia, who has beenwonderfully owned of God in his glorious work. Uncalled by any Church, but impelled by the good Spirit, shortly after his conversion he madehis way to British Columbia at his own expense, and offered himself toone of the Missionaries there as a volunteer teacher among the poor, neglected Indians, who, uncared for by any one, were prowling around thecities and towns of that new Province, living lives of shame and sin. Great indeed was his success. 

He has also established flourishing Missions at Fort Simpson andelsewhere in the north of that land, and through his labours a blessedwork began among the Indians in Alaska. Some of them, hearing wonderfulstories about the black-coated man and his mysterious Book, camehundreds of miles, that they might have their curiosity satisfied. Theyreturned with more than they anticipated. They reached the Mission, andfrom Mr Crosby, and also from some of their own tribes who lived there, they heard the "old, old story" for the first time in their lives. Itwas indeed wonderful news to them, but they accepted it with a simplefaith that was pleasing to God, and brought into their hearts theconsciousness of His smile and benediction. Rejoicing in this new-foundtreasure they returned to their own land, and there they published theglad tidings of God's love, and added the testimony of their ownpersonal experience that they had a new joy in their hearts, the resultof their having accepted this Saviour. Great indeed was the excitementamong the people. Some mocked, and some opposed and tried to persecute, but many were affected by what their companions had brought them, andbelieving their testimony entered into their joy. 

Of course the new converts could give but little instruction; and so, asthe work proceeded, it was decided that a deputation must go for theMissionary and bring him into their land. Mr Crosby responded, andwent over to Alaska, and spent some time among them. God blessed hislabours, and many of the Indians gave up their paganism and becameChristians. Convinced that a grand opening was here for Missionarytriumph, Mr Crosby wrote to the Methodist Episcopal Mission Rooms, NewYork, urging the officials there to enter this open door and begin workhere. The answer was that it was impossible; that their other fieldsabsorbed all their income, and so there was no prospect of their beingable to respond to his appeal. 

Not to be discouraged very easily, Mr Crosby next wrote to thePresbyterian Board at Philadelphia, and told of these poor sheep in thewilderness; and here, thank God, he met with success, and there was aglad response; and the successful Presbyterian Missions and IndianSchools in that land to-day are the outgrowth of that work. 

In company with this heroic Brother Crosby, who had so much to tell, Ispent several months in attending Missionary Meetings. We had blessedtimes. Immense crowds came out to hear us, and, if I am not mistaken, the increase in the Missionary income that year was the greatest in itshistory. In all, we attended eighty-nine Missionary AnniversaryServices in different Canadian towns and cities between Sarnia andQuebec. 

A very happy week was spent with my family at "Oaklands, " Toronto, thebeautiful residence of the Honourable Senator Macdonald, the LayTreasurer of our Missionary Society. Of Senator Macdonald's greatkindness, and tangible evidences of sympathy, neither few nor slight, ifI should here write, I should only be mentioning what scores ofMinisters and Missionaries could say had been their own fortunateexperiences with this large-hearted philanthropist. Eternity alone willbe able to reveal the full measure of what, with a glad heart, he hasbeen constantly and unostentatiously doing for many of Christ'sambassadors, and among the different Churches. 

As soon as the season for holding Missionary Meetings ended, I returnedto my Indian work. I left the Province of Ontario on the 6th of April, and reached Beren's River after twenty-three days of continuoustravelling. On the railroads in Minnesota and Dacota we were detainedby snowdrifts, which so blocked up our way that we had some veryunpleasant experiences. After leaving the railroad I had to travel twohundred and fifty miles in a stage on runners over the snowy prairies. We had some blizzards to encounter, and one night, when we werefortunate enough to have reached one of the stopping places, the stormraged like a hurricane. The house was built of logs, and not wellfinished, and the snow sifted in through the wide cracks between theselogs and on to our beds. My experiences in wintry camps served me agood purpose now, and so pulling up the hood of my overcoat, and thencompletely covering myself up under the bedclothes, I slept soundlythrough the raging storm and driving snow. When we were called up toeat a hasty breakfast and resume our journey, I found several inches ofsnow on the top of my bed, but I had suffered no inconvenience from it. With my travelling companions in the other beds it was very different. The upper storey, in which our beds were placed, was all one room, andso the snow had equally assailed us all. But, not being able to sleepwith their heads completely covered up, they had suffered much, and werein anything but an amiable mood when we resumed our journey. 

At Winnipeg I was cordially welcomed by my beloved Chairman, theReverend George Young, who had ever taken the deepest interest in mywork, and done all he could to add to our comfort and efficiency in itsprosecution. Fortunate indeed were we, poor Missionaries in theinterior, whether it was north or west, that we had such a man to lookafter our supplies, and see that we were not cheated or swindled bythose who once a year sent them out to the poor toilers in their lonelyfields. For years we had no money in our northern Missions. Our planwas, once a year to receive from Winnipeg all that our salary wouldpurchase for us in the shape of supplies that were needed in our ownhome, and also with which to pay teacher, interpreter, guides, canoe-men, dog-drivers, and others who might be employed in the prosecution ofthe work. 

As all the work of purchasing and packing these things depended verymuch upon the Chairman, fortunate indeed did all of us, who had DrYoung as our Chairman, consider ourselves to be. 

My dogs and Indians were waiting for me, having come down from the northto meet me, as arranged months before. We purchased our supplies, loaded our sleds, and away we started by dog-train on the last part ofthe long journey. We had left Toronto in a splendid railroad carriage;we ended the trip of over twenty days' duration with dog sleds. 

Very quickly did I come back to the wild life of the North after the sixmonths of incessant pleading the cause of the Indians before the largeand enthusiastic audiences in our towns and cities. The days of hardand rapid travelling over the frozen surface of Lake Winnipeg, --thebitter cold that often made us shiver in spite of the violent exerciseof running, --the intense and almost unbearable pain caused by thereflection of the brilliant rays of the sun upon the snowy waste, --thebed in the hole in the snow with no roof above us but the star-deckedvault of heaven, --were all cheerfully endured again and successfullypassed through. 

Very cordial was my welcome by the Saulteaux at my new field. I wasvery much gratified to find that they had had a successful winter, andthat those left in charge had worked faithfully and well. A little loghouse, twelve by twenty-four feet, had been put up, and in one end of itI was installed as my present home. My apartment was just twelve feetsquare, but to me it was all-sufficient. It was kitchen, bedroom, dining-room, study, reception-room, and everything else. Two of mygrandest dogs, Jack and Cuffy, shared it with me for months, and we hada happy and busy time. With several hard-working Indians, two of thembeing Big Tom and Martin Papanekis from Norway House, we toiled hard atgetting out the timber and logs for our new church, school-house, andparsonage. We had to go a distance of twelve or fourteen miles over thefrozen lake ere we reached the large island on which we found timbersufficiently large for our purpose. Here we worked as hard as possible. Often we had to go in miles from the shore to find what we wanted. Tomake our work more difficult, we found but few large trees growing closetogether. So, for nearly every large stick of timber, we had to make anew trail through the deep snow to the lake. The snow was from three tofour feet deep. The under-brush was thick, and the fallen trees werenumerous. Yet under these discouragements we worked. We cut down thetrees, measured them, squared them, and got them ready for their places. Then we hitched one end on a strong dog sled, and attached one dog tothis heavy load. How four dogs could drag these heavy sticks of timberwas indeed surprising. The principal pieces were thirty-six feet longand ten inches square. Yet my gallant St. Bernards and Newfoundlandswould take these heavy loads along at a rate that was astounding. Wehad thirty-two dogs at work, and rapidly did our piles of timber andlogs accumulate. 

Dressed as one of the natives, with them I toiled incessantly for thematerial upbuilding of the Mission. We had delightful services everySabbath. Nearly every Indian within some miles of the place attended, and good results were continually cheering our hearts. Although it wasso late in the season when I arrived, yet there was not, for weeksafter, any sign of the spring, except in the lengthening days andincreasingly brilliant sun. For a long time the vast snowy wastesremained crisp and hard. Very glorious was the atmosphere, for therewere no fogs, no mists, no damps. The sky seemed always cloudless, theair was always clear. 

Nearly every morning during those weeks of hard toil we were treated tothe strange sights which the beautiful and vivid mirage brought to us. Islands and headlands, scores of miles away, were lifted up from belowthe horizon, and shown to us as distinctly as though close at hand. With but few exceptions our nights also were very glorious, especiallywhen the Northern Lights, taking this vast Lake Winnipeg as their fieldof action, held one of their grand carnivals. Generally beginning inthe far north, with majestic sweep they came marching on, filling thevery heavens with their coloured bars, or flashing, ever-changing, yetalways beautiful clouds of brightness and glory. Sometimes they wouldform a magnificent corona at the zenith, and from its dazzling splendourwould shoot out long columns of different coloured lights, which restedupon the far-off frozen shores. Often have I seen a cloud of light flitswiftly across these tinted bars, as if a hand were sweeping the stringsof some grand harp. So startling was the resemblance, that there was aninstinctive listening for the sound that we used to think ought to come. Sometimes I have suddenly stopped my dogs and men, when we have beentravelling amidst these fascinating and almost bewildering glories ofthe heavens above us, and we have listened for that rustling sound ofcelestial harmony which some Arctic travellers have affirmed they haveheard, and which it seemed to me so evident that we ought to hear. Butalthough for years I have watched and listened, amidst the deathstillness of these snowy wastes, no sounds have I ever heard. Amidstall their flashing and changing glories these resplendent beauties everseemed to me as voiceless as the stars above them. 

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When spring arrived, and with its open water came our first boats, webrought out from Red River a quantity of building material and twoexperienced carpenters. Then actively went on the work of building aMission House, and also a large school-house, which for a time was toserve as a church also. We called it "the Tabernacle, " and for a goodwhile it served its double purpose admirably. 

Leaving the carpenters and Indians at work, I went into the then smallvillage of Winnipeg for Mrs Young and our two little children, who werenow returning from Ontario, where they had remained among friends, untilI, who had so long preceded them, should have some kind of a habitationprepared for them in the wilderness. For weeks we had to live in mylittle twelve-by-twelve log-cabin. It was all right in cold or dryweather, but as its construction was peculiar, it failed us mostsignally in times of rain and wet. The roof was made of poplar logs, laid up against the roof pole, and then covered very thickly with clay. When this hardened and dried, it was a capital roof against the cold;but when incessant rains softened it, and the mud in great pieces fellthrough upon bed, or table, or stove, or floor, it was not luxurious oreven comfortable living. One morning we found that during the night amass, weighing over five pounds, had fallen at the feet of our youngestchild, as she, unconscious of danger, slept in a little bed near us. However, after a while, we got into our new house, and great were ourrejoicings to find ourselves comfortably settled, and ready forundivided attention to the blessed work of evangelisation. 

While there was a measure of prosperity, yet the Mission did not advanceas rapidly as I had hoped it would. My hopes had been that the surpluspopulation at Norway House would have settled there, and that many fromthe interior directly east would, as they had stated, come out and helpto build up the Mission. 

Opposition in various quarters arose, and the Norway House Creespreferred to go farther south; and finally seventy families preferredthat place, and there they have formed a flourishing additional Mission. Thus the work advanced, although not all along the lines which some ofus had marked out. With patient endurance my noble wife and I toiledon. There was room for the exercise of the graces of courage, and hope, and faith, and patience; but a measure of success was ever ours, and wesaw signs of progress, and had every now and then some clear andremarkable cases of conversion from the vilest degradation andsuperstition into a clear and conscious assurance of Heaven's favour andsmile. 

One summer there came from the east to visit us a chieftainess withseveral of her followers. Her husband had been the chief of his people, and when he died she assumed his position, and maintained it well. Herhome was several days' journey away in the interior, but she had heardof the Missionary who had come to live among the Saulteaux and teachthem out of the great Book. Was not she a Saulteaux, and had not she aright to know of this new way, about which so much was being said? Withthese thoughts in her mind she came to see us. When she came to theMission, we saw very quickly that here was an interesting woman. We hadseveral interviews, and Mrs Young and myself did all we could to leadthis candid, inquiring mind into the right way. Before she left I gaveher a sheet of foolscap paper, and a long lead pencil, and showed herhow to keep her reckoning as to the Sabbath day. I had, among manyother lessons, described the Sabbath as one day in seven for rest andworship; and she had become very much interested, and promised to try tokeep it. 

As she pushed out in her canoe from our shore, her last importunaterequest was, that as soon as possible I would visit her and her peoplein their own land. So many were my engagements that I could not take upthis additional one until about the middle of the winter following. When, with a couple of Indian attendants, with our dog-trains, we dashedinto her village, great indeed was her joy at seeing us, and verydemonstrative was the welcome given. She had put up on a stagingoutside in the cold a couple of reindeer heads, keeping them therepreserved by the frost until I should arrive. Very quickly were theytaken down to cook. The hair was singed off, and then they were cut upwith an axe into pieces weighing about two pounds each. Soon they werein the pot, boiling for our dinner. I furnished some tea, and whileeverything was being got ready by a few, the rest of us sat down andtalked. 

They were indeed anxious for instruction in spiritual things. I readand, through my interpreter, explained truth after truth, to which theygave the most earnest attention. Then we stopped a little while, thatwe might have dinner. As I and my men were the guests of thischieftainess I did not get out my tin plates, and cups, and knives andforks, but sat down beside her in her wigwam with the rest of thepeople, completing a circle around the big wooden dish, in which thelarge pieces of cooked reindeer heads had been thrown. I asked ablessing on the food, and then dinner began. The plan was for eachperson to help himself or herself to a piece of the meat, holding it inthe hand, and using hunting knife or teeth, or both together, to get offthe pieces and eat them. 

I am sorry to say my lady friend on the right, this chieftainess, hadvery dirty-looking hands, and long, strong, brilliant teeth. She tookher piece of meat, and, turning it over and over in her hands, begantearing and cutting at it in a way that was not very dainty, butextremely otherwise. After biting off a few mouthfuls, she threw itdown on the dirty ground of the wigwam before her, and, inserting one ofher greasy hands in the bosom of her dress, she pulled out a large pieceof soiled paper, and, unfolding it before me, she began in excited tonesto tell me how she had kept the tally of the "praying days, " for thusthey style the Sabbath. Greatly interested in her story, and in herwild joyous way of describing her efforts to keep her record correct, Istopped eating and looked over her paper, as she talked away. Imaginemy great delight to find that through the long months which had passedsince I had given her that paper and pencil, she had not once missed herrecord. This day was Thursday, and thus she had marked it. Her planhad been to make six short marks, and then a longer one for Sunday. 

"Missionary, " she said very earnestly, "sometimes it seemed as though Iwould fail. There were times when the ducks or geese came very near, and I felt like taking my gun and firing. Then I remembered that it wasthe praying day, and so I only put down the long mark and rested. Ihave not set a net, or caught a fish, or fired a gun, on the praying daysince I heard about it at your house so far away. "

Of course I was delighted at all this, and said some kind words ofencouragement. Then we resumed our dinner. I had my piece of meat inone hand, and with the knife in the other was endeavouring to cut offthe pieces and eat them. The good woman replaced the precious paper andpencil in her bosom, and then picked up her piece of meat from the dirtyground, and, after turning it over and over in her hands, began with herstrong teeth to tear off the large mouthfuls. All at once she stoppedeating, and, looking intently at my piece, she said, "Your piece is nota very good one, mine is very fine, " and before I could protest, or saya word, she quickly exchanged the pieces; and from her portion, whichshe put in my hand, I had to finish my dinner. As what she did isconsidered an act of great kindness, of course I would not grieve her byshowing any annoyance. So I quietly smothered any little squeamishnessthat might naturally have arisen, and finished my dinner, and thenresumed the religious service. Soon after, she became a decidedChristian. 

The following extracts are from the last letter which I sent to theMission Rooms, ere, owing to the failure of Mrs Young's health, we leftthe land of the Saulteaux for work in the Master's Vineyard elsewhere. The Mission had now been fully established, a comfortable parsonagebuilt and well furnished. A large school-house had been erected, whichanswered also for the religious services until the church should befinished. Many had been our trials and hardships, and there had been agreat deal of opposition, much of it from places not expected. But tobe enabled to send such tidings from such a place, where I had gone asthe first Missionary, and among such a wicked and degraded tribe as werethese Saulteaux, so different from the more peaceful Crees, caused myheart to rejoice, that He Who had permitted me to go and sow the seedhad also given me the honour of seeing some golden sheaves gathered infor the heavenly garner:--

"Last Sabbath was perhaps the most interesting and encouraging one wehave spent on the Mission. Our place of worship was crowded, and manyhad to remain outside. Some of the old Indians who, in spite of ourpleadings, had clung to their paganism, renounced it on that day in amost emphatic manner. Seven of them, after being questioned as to theirthorough renunciation of their old superstitions, and as to theirpresent faith in Christ, were then and there baptized. 

"At the afternoon service several more were baptized; among them an oldman, perhaps seventy years of age, with his wife and grandchild. He hadnever been inside a Christian sanctuary before. He had just arrivedfrom the vast interior eastward of this place, the country I visitedunder so many difficulties last April. 

"The old man brought down with him the Bible and hymn-book which I hadgiven him months ago. He stated that although he could not read themvery well, yet he kept them close to him by day, and under his pillow bynight, and tried to keep in his memory all he had heard of what waswritten in them, as I had told him. 

"I have been teaching the school myself for months, as my faithfulteacher, Timothy Bear, is poorly. Among the scholars I have none moreattentive than the old man and his wife. Seated on the ground with theReverend James Evans' Syllabic Characters marked out with a pen on apiece of paper in their hands, and the open Bible on the grass beforethem, they are striving hard to read fluently in their own language thewonderful works of God. 

"If this old man had presented himself for baptism a little betterclothed, we should have been pleased. All he had on was a dirty cottonshirt and a pair of deer-skin leggings. However, as such fashions occurhere, his appearance created no remark, but all were deeply moved at hiscoming forward and so emphatically renouncing his old paganism. 

"The Sacrament of the Lord's Supper on the same day was also a serviceof great interest, as several new members, baptized a few months ago, were admitted to the Lord's Table for the first time. In two instancesthe decided stand for Christ taken by the women has led to theconversion of their husbands. Until lately they were careless, recklessmen; but they have now come and declared that they are convinced thatthe religion of their wives is better than the old, and they desire tohave it too. Thus the work goes on; but how slowly! When shall thetime arrive when `nations shall be born in a day'? Haste, happy day!"

 "We are toiling through the darkness, but our eyes behold the light That is mounting up the eastern sky and beating back the night. Soon with joy we'll hail the morning when our Lord will come in might, For Truth is marching on. 

 "He will come in glorious majesty to sweep away all wrong; He will heal the broken-hearted and will make His people strong; He will teach our souls His righteousness, our hearts a glad new song, For Truth is marching on. 

 "He is calling on His people to be faithful, prompt, and brave, To uplift again the fallen, and to help from sin to save, To devote themselves for others, as Himself for them He gave, For Truth is marching on. 

 "Let us fight against the evils with our faces towards the light; God is looking through the darkness, and He watches o'er the fight And His joy will be our recompense, His triumph crown the right, For Truth is marching on. "