On the Indian Trail, Stories of Missionary Work among Cree and SaulteauxIndians, by Reverend Egerton Ryerson Young. 

________________________________________________________________________In his Introduction to the book the author tells us that some of thestories here recounted are new, while others have been published inothers of his works. Thus, if you have read "By Canoe and Dog-Train"you will experience a feeling of deja vue. 

Like so many nineteenth century clergymen, the author spends a lot oftime telling us how very holy he is. But I suppose we have a differentview of how we ought to tell others how much time we spend praying. Things are different these days. 

This book is one of many to be found on the excellent Early CanadianaOnline. We used the new (2005) ABBYY screen grabbing tool to capturethe images of the pages, using the third of the five sizes available. This size was chosen because the image of each page just fits thetext of the page on the screen. From other points of view it would havebeen better if we could have used the largest size, which we could noteasily do for the following reason. The original scans were far frombeing nice clean ones, so there were many misreads. We used theAthelstane editing system to produce the final text as we have publishedit. 

Had we used the full-sized scans it is quite possible that there wouldhave been just the same number of misreads in the OCRed text, becauseof the number of bits of hair and fluff, scratches and other blemishesin the scans. So it is lucky that the Athelstane system can trap mostof the misreads. 

________________________________________________________________________ON THE INDIAN TRAIL, STORIES OF MISSIONARY WORK AMONG CREE AND SAULTEAUXINDIANS, BY REVEREND EGERTON RYERSON YOUNG. 

PREFACE. 

This is not a continuous narrative of missionary work as are some of theauthor's books. It is a collection of distinct chapters, some of whichare written expressly for this volume, others of which, having in wholeor in part seen the light in other form, are now, at the request offriends, and thanks to the courtesy of the publishers, here gathered. 

Romantic missionary work among the red Indians will soon be a thing ofthe past. Civilisation is reaching this people, and the iron horserushes and shrieks where the Indian trail was once the only pathway. The picturesque garb is fast disappearing, and store clothes, often toosoon transformed into rags anything but picturesque, have robbed, theIndian of the interest that once clung to him. 

These wanderings on the fast disappearing trail, speak of successesrather than failures; not but that there were many of the latter, aswell as long waiting after the seed time for the harvest, but because itis so much more pleasant and helpful to look on the bright side of life, and talk of victory rather than defeat. 

So in the hope that this book will be helpful and encouraging to thefriends and supporters of missions, who have become such an innumerablecompany, and that His name may be glorified thereby, we send it on itsway. 

E. R. Y. _Toronto_. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

ON THE PRAIRIE TRAIL. 

We struck the prairie trail at Saint Paul in 1868. 

We, that is my young wife and I in company with some other missionariesand teachers, were to travel many hundreds of miles upon it, in orderthat we might reach the wigwam haunts of the Indians in the northernpart of the Hudson Bay Territories, to whom we had been appointed tocarry the glorious Gospel of the Son of God. 

We were to follow up the work begun by men of sublime faith and heroiccourage, and to carry it still farther into more remote regions where asyet the sweet story of a Saviour's love had never been heard. We hadconfidence enough in God to belief that if fur-traders could travelalong these trails, and live in those lonely remote regions for from theblessings of civilisation, and in order to make money by trading withthe Indians put up with the hardships and privations incident to such alife, we could make equal sacrifices for Christ's sake, to carry theGlad Tidings of His great love to those who had never heard the wondrousStory. 

After about three weeks journeyings, we had travelled as far as we couldby steamboat and railroad, and were at the extreme limit of thesesplendid methods of civilised locomotion. From this point onward therewas nothing before us but the prairie trail. On and on it stretched forhundreds of miles, away and away to the land of the north wind. Overits winding undulating course, long years ago, the hardy pioneers of thenew world adventured themselves; and as they bravely pushed on they werefilled with amazement and awe at the vastness of the great andillimitable prairies. 

Following closely in their trail, and even sometimes themselves thepioneers, came those early heroic priestly followers of Loyola, eagerand anxious to meet and to make friends of the wild Indians of theplains and forest, that among them they might plant the cross, and, according to their belief, by the simple rite of baptism induct theminto the bosom of Mother Church. 

In later years much of the romance of the great Trail had worn away. Commerce and Trade with their multiplied activities had so takenpossession of it that when first we saw it in 1868, the long trains ofnoisy creaking Red River carts, and the great canvas-covered wagons ofthe adventurous immigrants, were the most conspicuous sights on itsdusty stretches. Occasionally bands of Indian warriors, plumed andpainted, were seen upon it, dashing along on their fiery steeds, out onsome marauding adventure, or more likely, on the lookout for the vastherds of buffalo that still swarmed in the regions farther west, like"the cattle on a thousand hills. "

It was one of those perfect days in the lovely month of June when weleft the thriving young city of Saint Paul, and with our canvas-coveredwagons, and fourteen picked horses, really entered on the trail. As weleft the frontier city, thus severing the last link that bound us tocivilisation, we realised most vividly that now we were entering uponour missionary work. 

Thirty days were we on this Prairie Trail. Not all of them were of thatrare beauty of the first. Fierce thunderstorms several times assailedus when it was not always possible to protect ourselves from theterrible downpour of rain. One night a genuine cyclone wrecked ourcamp; tents and wagons with their varied contents went careering inerratic courses before its irresistible power. 

Our way was beset with dangers: bridgeless streams had to be crossed;prairie fires had to be fought, or wildly run away from treacherousquicksands sometimes spread most invitingly on either side of themiserable looking trail, lured the unwary traveller to trust himself ontheir smooth and shining surface. But woe to the foolish ones who leftthe trail for the quicksands: unless speedily rescued by the unitedstrength of friends, horses and travellers would soon be swallowed up;so the warning cry of the guide was ever: "Keep in the trail!"

Thus we journeyed on, sometimes in the sunshine, and sometimes in thestorm. Every morning and evening we had our family prayers. TheSabbaths were rest days for all--sweet and precious days, when out inthe sunshine on the glorious prairies, we, a little company ofmissionaries and teachers--worshipped God: they were as the days of theSon of Man on earth. 

Thirty days on such a trail could not pass without some strangeadventures, and we had our share of them with white men and withIndians. 

A talkative parrot in our party nearly frightened the lives out of somevery inquisitive and superstitious Indians and French half-breeds. Theyhad stopped their ox-carts one day at the same spot where we, coming inthe opposite direction, were resting for the dinner hour. Hearing aboutthe wonderful parrot, they crowded around to see her. Polly stood theirinquisitive gazings for awhile, then, apparently somewhat annoyed, withwings ruffled, sprang forward as far as she could in her large cage, andshouted out:

"Who are you?"

The effect upon the superstitious half-breeds, and Indians, was about asthough His Satanic Majesty had suddenly appeared among them. Theyrushed away, and nothing that we could do would induce any of them tolook at the bird again. 

Another adventure, most unique and startling, occurred on this trip erewe had proceeded many days on the trail. 

"You had better keep a sharp eye on those splendid horses of yours, oryou may wake up some fine morning and find them missing. "

This was rather startling news and caused a good deal of excitement inour camp. 

The speakers were some scouts from the United States army, who weremaking a hurried trip from the head waters of the Missouri where thetroops had gone to quell some Indian disturbance. They were now ontheir way to Saint Paul with dispatches for Washington. 

Each night of our journey we had, in true western style hobbled ourhorses and left them to roam about and feed on the luxuriant grasses. This hobbling is merely the tying of the forefeet loosely together withsoft leather thongs so that the animal in moving has to lift up bothforefeet at once. Its movements being thus necessarily slow, there isno roaming very far from the camp. Having had no fear of danger, we hadbeen very careless, leaving everything unguarded. 

The terrible Sioux massacres a few years before in these very regions, were now being forgotten. It is true that as we journeyed, the ruins ofthe destroyed, and in many places, not yet rebuilt homesteads of thesettlers, were vivid reminders of those dreadful frontier wars, whenover nine hundred white people lost their lives. The Indians were nowhowever far to the north and west of us, so that we had no fears as weleisurely moved along. Hence, it was somewhat startling when thesepicturesquely garbed scouts halted in our midst, and warned us to have aguard over our horses; telling us, that, the most notorious band ofhorse thieves was in the neighbourhood, and was rumoured to have heardthat there was a party with some magnificent horses in the prairiecountry, and that doubtless, even now, they were on the lookout for usupon some of the trails. 

After a short halt for a hurried meal, our bronzed well-armed visitorsleft us. The last we saw of them was as they galloped away southward onthe trail. 

Immediately a council was called, when it was decided to move on to thevicinity of Clearwater, and there remain until all the finalpreparations for our long trip were completed. Our horses were turnedloose and hobbled during the day, but were not allowed to stray very farfrom the camp. Watchful eyes were ever upon them, and also scanning theprairies for suspicious intruders. Before sundown they were allgathered in and securely fastened in a large barn that stood out uponthe prairie, the sole building left of a large farmstead: all the otherbuildings, including the dwelling house, had been burned during theIndian wars. No survivors or relatives had as yet come to claim thedeserted place, and so the rich prairie grasses had almost covered withtheir green verdure the spot where the destroyed buildings once stood;and now all that remained to tell of former prosperity was this solitaryold barn. 

The men of our party were appointed to watch the barn during the nightand protect the horses against all intruders. Two well armed personswere thought a sufficient guard for each of the eight or ten nights thatwe remained in that vicinity. One night a young man of our party and Iwere appointed to watch. He most thoroughly equipped himself withseveral varieties of weapons, resolved to be prepared for any emergency. I trusted to a quick-firing breech-loading rifle. 

We gathered in the horses from the prairies, and were leading themtoward the barn when we met the leader of our party, a man past middlelife, most of whose years had been spent among the Indians, and in thegreat west. 

Looking at us who were to be the guards of the horses that night, hesaid, with a sneer:

"Queer guards are you! I have some young Indians that could steal anyhorse in that crowd to-night from under your very nose. "

Stung by the sneers of this man, for it was not the first time that hehad tried to wound, I replied with perhaps too much emphasis:

"Mr -- I have the best horse in the company, and I will give him toyou, if either you, or any Indian living, can steal him out of that barnbetween sundown and sunrise. "

My comrade and I carefully fastened our horses along one side of thebarn where they could stand comfortably, or lie down on some old prairiehay during the night. Then we examined the barn. At one end were theusual large double doors sufficiently wide and high to admit of theentrance of a wagon loaded with hay or sheaves of grain. At the otherend was a small door which we securely fastened on the inside. We thencarefully examined the building for other places of ingress to make surethat there were no openings sufficiently large for even a naked savageto squeeze through. When thoroughly satisfied with our survey, wecollected a quantity of dried hay, and made ourselves some comfortableseats, where we could, without being seen, command the large end doors:one of which was fastened inside with a hook and staple, while the otherhad only the usual wooden latch. 

We moved about and chatted on various subjects during the long beautifulgloaming, and when the darkness settled down upon us, we made ourselvescomfortable in our assigned positions, and with rides in hand, wereindeed sentinels on the watch. As the excitement of the occasion woreoff, my young companion who was still in his teens, began to feelexceedingly drowsy. I told him to cuddle down in the hay and go tosleep for a while, and if there was any appearance of danger I wouldinstantly awake him. Very soon he was sleeping quietly at my feet. Hehad generously requested me to awake him when he had slept an hour orso, offering then to take my place. Thanking him, I said: "Get somesleep if you can; there is none, however, for me to-night. "--Iremembered too well those taunting words, and could not have slept had Itried. 

As the hours slowly rolled along, I could not but think of the strangetransitions of the last few weeks. Not six weeks before this I was thepastor of a large church in a flourishing city. Then I was living in abeautiful home with all the comforts and conveniences of civilisationaround me, where the vigilant policemen paced their various rounds, while we in peace and safety rested without one thought of danger; now Iwas in the far West, away from the society and comforts of other days, on the boundless plains where dangers lurk, and lawless, thievishvagabonds abound. Not long ago I was in my own pulpit preaching tolarge congregations; now, during the quiet hours of this night, I wassitting on a bundle of dried prairie grass in an old barn, defending alot of horses from horse thieves. Strange transformations are these. Truly life is a play, and we, the actors, little know what parts weshall next be called on to assume. 

Thus I mused; bub hush! What noise is that? Surely it cannot be that acunning horse thief would come so deliberately this beautiful starlitnight and try at the principal door to seek an entrance. No stealthyIndian clever at horse stealing would begin his operations in such away. 

But there is the sound, nevertheless. Evidently it is that of a handfeeling for the latch. 

Strict orders had been given at the camp, that under no considerationshould any one of our party approach the barn after dark. So, here wasan intruder who must be promptly dealt with, before he could draw andfire. 

Springing up and lifting the rifle to my shoulder, I waited until theintruder's hand had found the latch. Then the door swung open and therehe stood; a very tall man, clearly outlined in the starry night. 

My first grim resolve was to fire at once. Then there came the thought:"It is a terrible thing suddenly to send a soul into eternity. Perhapshe is not a horse thief. He may be some lone wanderer on the prairies, who, seeing this old barn, desires to get under its shelter out of theheavy dews. You have him covered with your rifle; even if he is adesperate horse thief bent on mischief, ere he can draw his weapons, youcan easily drop him. "

These thoughts must have flashed through my brains very rapidly for theman had not yet entered the barn when I had decided on my course ofaction. 

So, while keeping him covered with my rifle, and with my hand upon thetrigger, I shouted:

"Who's there?"

"It's only Matthew. Surely you ought to know me by this time. "

Instead of an enemy, there came stumbling along in the darkness, one ofour young friends from the camp: a school-teacher, going out to instructthe Indians in the plains of the Saskatchewan. 

Groping his way along, he said: "It is awfully close and hot down therein the camp, and so I thought I would rather come and spend the rest ofthe night with you in the barn. "

Foolish fellow! he little knew how near he had come to losing his lifeby this direct breach of orders. 

As I recognised his voice in answer to my challenge, and realised hownear I had come to shooting one of our party, a quick reaction seizedme, and dropping the gun, I sank back trembling like a leaf. 

After chatting away at a great rate, he at length settled down in thehay, and went to sleep without having the slightest idea of the risk hehad run, or of the part I had played in what came so near being atragedy. 

I continued my watch until relieved at sunrise, and then, with mycomrade, turned over all the horses safe and sound to those whose dutyit was to watch them while they were feeding on the prairies. 

There was a row for a time when I reported to the leaders of our companythe visit to the barn. The good-natured delinquent was the subject of agreat deal of scolding, which he bore with an unruffled demeanour. Ashe was six feet, six inches and a half in stature, no physicalcastigation was administered; nor was any needed; he was so thoroughlyfrightened when he heard how he had stood under cover of my rifle withmy finger on the trigger. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

ON THE INDIAN TRAIL. 

We will call the routes over which I travelled on my large missionfield, "Indian trails;" but the name at times would be found to beinept, as often, for scores of miles, there was not the least vestige ofa track or path. This was because there was so little travel in summerof a character that would make a well defined trail, for during thatseason the Indians preferred to avail themselves of the splendid andnumerous lakes and rivers, which enabled them to travel very easily bycanoe in almost any direction. 

Thus, when obliged to travel on the short stretches of the so-called, "Indian trail, " it is not to be wondered at if the missionary sometimeslost his way, and had to be sought after and found, much to theamusement of the Indians who constituted the hunting party. 

"Good missionary, but him lost the trail. " More than once was I soaddressed by my clever and experienced Indian canoeman, with whom everysummer I used to journey hundreds of miles into remote regions, to findthe poor sheep of the wilderness to whom to preach the glorious Gospelof the Son of God. These summer routes lay through many lakes, and upand down rushing rivers full of rapids and cataracts. Generally twoskilful Indian canoemen were my companions, one of whom was called, "theguide. "

The Indians, for whom we were seeking, drifted naturally from theirhunting grounds in the forests, to the shores of the lakes and rivers, for the sake of the fish, which, daring the summer months, could beeasily obtained and which then constituted their principal food. Theresult was, that while in winter, with our dog-trains, we could goanywhere--the terrible ice-king freezing everything solid from the lakesand rivers to the great quaking bogs--in summer, we were confined tothose trips which could be only made by the birch-bark canoe: in noother way could the Gospel he carried to these people. After we becameaccustomed to the canoe and dog-train, we rejoiced that we were countedworthy to be the Messengers of Good Tidings'to these neglected ones, who, having lost faith in their old paganism, were longing for somethingbetter. 

One summer in the early years of my missionary life, when I had had butlittle experience in the northern methods of travel and was a novice atfinding my way on an obscure trail, I took a trip which I remember verydistinctly; partly, because of the difficulty I had in keeping the trailwhen alone and partly because of the dangers to which I was exposed whenI lost it. 

My birch canoe was a good one. It was made especially for runningrapids, and was so light that one man could easily carry it on his headwhen necessary. I had as my companions two very capable Indiancanoemen. One of them had never been over that route before and theother, whom by courtesy, we called, "our guide, " had only once travelledthat way--and that, several years before the date of this trip. 

All the able bodied men of my mission excepting these two, were awayserving the Hudson Bay Company as tripmen, which was the reason why Icould not obtain men better acquainted with the long route. I hadeither to take these men and ran a good deal of risk, or wait anotheryear to carry the Gospel to those hundreds who had never heard it, andwho had sent a pleading call for me to come and tell them what the GreatSpirit said in His Book. So, after much prayer, I decided, trusting inGod and in these men, to make the journey. 

The country through which we travelled was one of the roughest andwildest in that dreary, desolate land. The streams were so full ofrapids that we had constantly to be making portages. This was slow andlaborious work. Our method of procedure was something like this: assoon as we discovered that the current was too rapid to be safe, or thatwe were hearing some great falls, we went ashore and quickly unloadedour canoe; William, the guide, easily lifted it upon his head andstarting off, soon disappeared in the forest, running where possible, and keeping parallel with the raging stream until he reached a placebelow which the waters were again navigable; Peter, my other Indian, asspeedily as possible made a large bundle of our blankets, kettles, andsupplies, and with this upon his back, supported by a carrying strapround his forehead, quickly followed the trail made by William; while tome was assigned the work of carrying the guns, ammunition, changes ofraiment and the presents, and Bibles for the Indians we expected tovisit. Although my load was not nearly as heavy as those carried by mystalwart canoemen, yet I was utterly unable to keep up with them in thetrail. Indians, when thus loaded, never walk: they seem to glide alongon a swinging trot that carries them over the ground very rapidly. Awhite man, unaccustomed to this pace, is very soon left behind. Thiswas my experience. All I could do, was to trudge bravely along under mymiscellaneous load, which was becoming constantly disarranged, thuscausing delay. 

But my greatest trouble was to keep the trail. There was absolutely nopath. All the trail, was that made by my two Indians, and Indians aretrained to leave as little evidence of their movements as possible. SoI was often lost. I would at the beginning of the portage, bravelyshoulder my burden and endeavour to keep in sight of my men. This, however, I found to be an utter impossibility. A sharp turn among therocky ridges, or a plunge into the dense dark forest, and they were gonefrom my vision. Then my perplexities began. If, as some timeshappened, the trail was through mud, or reeds and rushes I couldgenerally follow them in it; but, as more frequently happened, the trailwas over rocky ridges, or through dense forests, sometimes for miles, and I was often completely bewildered and lost. 

The trouble at first was, that being too perplexed, or too ignorant ofwhat was the safer course to pursue, I would quicken my pace and hurryon--somewhere. On and on I would stumble under my heavy awkward loaduntil the sweat fell like rain from my brow and my back ached. Morethan once when thus hurrying I have been startled by some savage beast, that with a snort or a growl, dashed away in front of me. This onlyadded speed to my footsteps, and frightened now I would hurry on, untilutterly worn-out and exhausted I threw off my heavy burdens and sankdown on the nearest rock or log, tired out. Perhaps in my ignorance andperversity I had wandered far away, even in an opposite direction fromthat which I should have taken. 

Fortunate was it for me that I had such men for my comrades. I knewtheir worth and loyalty, as well as their ability quickly to find me. As soon as they had safely reached the end of the portage they would beon the alert for my arrival. If I delayed beyond what they thought tobe sufficient time they would set off on the back trail looking for me. With that unerring instinct which so many of them possess in woodcraft, and which to me always seemed perfectly marvellous, they soon foundwhere I had wandered from the trail. From this point they had not theslightest difficulty in following and finding me. Without any chiding, but with perhaps a pitying look and a quiet utterance that sounded like"Good missionary, but him lost the trail, " they would quickly pick up myburdens, and safely guide me to our waiting canoe. All I had to carrywas perhaps the Book which I had with me, the reading of which, enabledme profitably to pass the hours that often elapsed ere my faithful menfound me. 

We lived on just what we could shoot, as it was impossible to carryadditional supplies in a birch canoe. Hunter's luck varies considerablyeven in a land of game, and we at least had variety in our bill of fare. Black bears being still numerous in those wild regions we sometimes hadbear's steak broiled on the coals, or ribs skidded on a stick and nicelybrowned before the fire. When my canoemen had time to prepare thebear's feet and boil them they were quite a luxury. In fact, the threegreat luxuries specially prized by the denizens of that country are, theheaver's tails, the moose's nose, and the bear's paws. Rarely was adeer shot on those canoe trips, unless it happened to be in the farnorth regions, where occasionally one was caught swimming far out fromland in a great lake. When one was thus killed, there was of courseabundance of food, but so little of it could be carried with us, thatthe larger portion had to be left to be devoured by wolves, wolverines, or other wild animals. However, in leaving all this meat on the trailthe words of the Psalmist would come to us:

"He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry. "Perhaps it was only carrying out His great purposes, when we thus leftall this food for some of His creatures to whom, "He giveth their meatin due season. "

Wild ducks, geese, and other aquatic birds were occasionally shot, affording us most savoury food as did also the beavers wild-cats, andmuskrats. 

Our nights were spent where the day's journey ended. Missionaries innearly all lands can generally find some human, habitation in which toobtain or prepare their food and spend the night. As a child, I used tolisten with intense interest to my beloved father, who for many yearshad been a pioneer missionary in what were then known as the wilds ofUpper Canada--tell of his adventures. Many had been his hardships anddangers, but I remember he used to say, that he could generally find thecomfortable log-cabin of a friendly settler in which to pass the night. The trail in the wild north land leads through regions of countrythousands of miles in extent, where there is not even to be found aleather tepee or a birch-bark wigwam, much less a house. The resultwas, when making such journeys, we had to do the next best thing, andthat was to camp at the spot where night overtook us. Of course we wereon the lookout for as comfortable a place as it was possible to find. Asmooth dry granite rock for our bed, and dry wood with which to make ourfires, where we cooked our food and dried our clothes, were alwaysconsidered the essential requisites for a comfortable camp. Warm daysalternated with damp and chilly ones, but the nights were generallycold. The bright warm camp-fire was always welcomed with great delightafter a day's journey of sixty miles on the trail. Pleasant indeed arethe memories of happy restful hours so spent, when the good honest day'swork was done, and the time of rest well earned. After the heartyevening meal and prayers, it was each a luxury to be able to stretch ourcramped limbs before a glorious camp-fire on the rocky shore of somegreat river or picturesque lake. Then the attempt to read even somefavourite author was not always a great success. It seemed morecongenial just to lie there, and muse and watch the dying of the day asthe brightness gradually faded out of the western sky, and the stars intheir modest way, one by one, came out into conscious vision, until thewhole heavens were lit up by their radiance. The only sounds were theroar of the distant cataract, the music of the running stream, therippling of the waves at our feet, broken some nights by the occasionalcry of a wild bird or beast, from among the trees of the encirclingforest. The quiet, picturesquely garbed men in their statuesqueattitudes added much to the attractiveness of the surroundings. 

Then at night very close to the heart, and appropriate, were the wordsof the Psalmist: "The heavens declare the glory of God, and thefirmament showeth His handiwork;" and, "When I consider thy heavens thework of thy fingers, the moon and stars which thou hast ordained; whatis man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that thouvisitest him?"

But the nights spent on the Indian trail, were not always so delightful, or so conducive to lofty and celestial sentiments. When the cyclonicwinds howled around us through the long night hours, blowing with suchfury that it requited all of our watchfulness and strength to preventcanoe, blankets, and bundles from being blown into the lake or river, our thoughts were not among the stars. Sometimes the blackthunderclouds gathered and the rain fell upon us in torrents, puttingout our fires, perhaps before our evening meal was cooked, drenching uscompletely, and continuing sometimes so long that we had not a drystitch upon us for days together. Under such circumstances, whileringing some quarts of water out of our clothes, or from the blankets inwhich we had slept, there was no disposition to sentimentalise about therippling of the waves on the shore or the distant waterfall. 

Thus in storm as in sunshine, it was necessary that the missionary andhis faithful canoemen should be on the trail, if the Book were to becarried, and its glorious truths proclaimed to those wandering people intheir wigwam homes, in regions so remote and inaccessible that in noother way could they be reached during the brief summer months. However, in spite of its hardships and dangers, the results accomplishedmore than compensated for them all. Physical sufferings are not worthyof record, where successful work has been done in the conversion ofimmortal souls for whom the Saviour died. Many have been the trophieswon and marvellous the transformations wrought as the result of thesedifficult trips on the Indian trail. The missionaries, numbers of whomare still toiling upon them, rejoice that they are counted worthy toendure such hardness, and to be "in perils oft" for His glory, and forthe salvation of those for whom He died. 

As regards some abiding results attained by these adventurous trips, oneor two incidents are here recorded. 

On these long journeys, the missionary generally carried with him asmall assortment of medicines. He well knew that many a hard heartcould be reached, and many a prejudice overcome, by the healing of someafflicted member of the family, when all other means for influencingthem for good, had for the time being failed. 

At one remote pagan village dwelt a man who had refused most positivelyto become a Christian. When urged to accept of Christianity he had mostemphatically repeated the expression most common among them: "As myfathers lived and died, so will I. "

He came to me one day in a state of much perplexity, and after speakingabout several things, mentioned the thankfulness that was in his hearton account of my having cured his wife, who had been sick a long time. The way in which he expressed himself, however, showed the greatignorance under which he was living. His words were something likethese, and most emphatically were they uttered:

"Missionary, my wife was long sick. I went to the medicine man of mypeople to cure her. He tried and tried, but he could not do her anygood. Then I came to you, and your medicines cured her, and she soongot well. So I believe, that as your medicine is stronger than that ofthe medicine men of our religion, your religion must be better thanours. My wife and I have talked it over, and we want to sit at yourfeet, and learn of this new way. "

Of course there was a good deal in his mind that was erroneous and I hadto explain myself literally and enlighten him, ere I could begin toteach him the truths of the Gospel. However, I had won his heart, andthat was half of the battle. Now predisposed toward the truth, he andhis wife gladly accepted it. They became sincere and earnestChristians, and were both made a blessing and a benediction to theirpeople. 

There was a great hunter who had an only son. He had a number ofdaughters, but they were as nothing in his sight in comparison with hislittle boy. One day the child fell sick, and the medicine man of thetribe was sent for in great haste, a famous old conjuror by the name ofTapastanum. He had some knowledge of roots and herbs, but like theother conjurors of his nation, pretended to depend upon his incantationsand conjurings to effect his cures. With a great deal of ceremony hebrought out his sacred medicine bag, his charms, and rattle and drum. Then arraying himself in the most hideous manner possible, he began hiswild incantations. He howled and yelled, he shook his rattle and beathis drum. All however was in vain. The child rapidly became worse asthe days passed. Seeing that there was no improvement, the fatherbecame thoroughly alarmed and lost all faith in Tapastanum's power. Fearing however to offend him, he gave him some presents of tea andtobacco, and told him that he need not trouble himself to come again. Up to this time he had refused to listen to the missionary's teachings. He had been loud and almost persecuting in his opposition to thepreaching of the Gospel among his people, and had refused to come wherethe friendly Indians gathered under the trees to hear the Word read andexplained. 

Indian-like however, he had been most observant, and it had not escapedhis notice that some cures had been effected by the pale face that hadbeen too difficult for the native medicine men. So, when he saw hislittle boy getting worse and worse, in spite of all the yells and anticsof the conjuror, so soon as he had dismissed him, he came for themissionary, and in a tone very different from that which he had firstused, almost begged him to come and save his little boy. 

"I will do the best I can, " said the missionary, who was thankful for anopportunity thus, perhaps, to win his friendship and to lead him to thecross. 

When he examined the boy he found that it was a serious case ofinflammation, so he candidly told the father, that as the disease hadrun so long it was hard to say whether he would be able to cure him ornot, but he would gladly do his best. The Indian father urged him tobegin at once to do all that was possible to save his boy; saying, thathe would be so glad if his child recovered, and would not blame themissionary if he died. 

Prompt remedies were applied, and with God's blessing, and carefulnursing, the child recovered, greatly to the joy of the father. 

Not long after, as the missionary gathered the people together forreligious service, he was pleased to see, leaning against a distanttree, the once stubborn old Indian whose son had been healed. It wasevident that he was anxious to hear what that missionary who had curedhis boy had to say, and jet, he was still too proud to come and sit withthe friendly Indians, who were anxious to learn about the message whichthe Great Spirit had sent to the people. So he compromised by taking aposition on the outskirts of the audience. 

Fortunately the missionary was gifted with a strong clear voice, sowithout any apparent effort, he told the story of God's love in JesusChrist in a tone that could be distinctly heard by all, even by thedistant hunter leaning against the tree. 

Very attentively did that Indian listen to all that was said, and sointerested was he, that at the next service he stood at a treeconsiderably nearer the speaker. The next service he was in the midstof the audience, and a few weeks later he was at the Cross, a happyconverted man. 

It was interesting and delightful to listen to his after apologies, andchidings of himself for his stubborn opposition to that in which he nowso delighted. Among other things he would say:

"But missionary, you know that I was so foolish and stubborn. I wasthen blind and deaf; but now I have rubbed the dust out of my eyes, pulled the moss out of my ears, so now I see clearly and hear all right. Then, I could only say hard things against the Book which I thought wasonly for the white man, but now, I have found that it is for every one, and I love to think and talk about the good things that it has broughtto us. "

Long centuries ago Isaiah prophesied:

"Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deafshall be unstopped;

"Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumbsing;

"For in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in thedesert. "

Here in this wild north land, as, thank God, it has been on many othermission fields, this glorious prophecy had been, and is being, mostliterally fulfilled. Eyes long spiritually blinded are now open tobehold the blessed light, deaf ears have been unstopped and now hear Hisloving voice, and tongues unloosened by His power make the wildernessvocal with His praise. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

PRACTICAL WORK IN INDIAN HOMES. 

Since the opening up of the heart of Africa, by the indomitable courageand zeal of such men as Speke and Moffat, Baker and Livingstone, Stanleyand Cameron, Bishop Taylor and others, perhaps one of the least knownportions of this habitable globe is the northern part of the greatDominion of Canada. The discovery of the rich gold mines in the greatYukon River district--the greater number by far being in Canadianterritory--is attracting attention to that part of the hitherto unknownnorth-western portion of the great Dominion, and will doubtless lead toits becoming better known. 

It is true that there are vast regions of this great country that are ofbut little value to civilised people as a home. Still there arehundreds of millions of acres, of land as fertile as any in the world, and thousands of people are crowding in every year and taking possessionof what will yet become one of the greatest wheat producing portions ofthe globe. 

From east to west, through the Dominion runs the great Canada PacificRailway, the longest in the world. This great road has not only brokenthe long silence of the wilderness and opened up the grandest route tothe Orient, but it has also unsettled the Indians in their prairie andforest retreat; it has not only brought trade to their wigwam villagesbut also the missionary with the Bible to their very doors. 

But north of these new provinces where the whistle of the iron horse isheard, are vast regions that are as free from the inroads of theadventurous pioneer as is the Desert of Sahara. This is a country ofmagnificent lakes and rivers with their untold wealth of fish. Its vastforests and morasses abound in fur-bearing animals of great value. Bears and wolves, reindeer and moose, and many other animals which theIndians love to hunt, exist in large numbers. 

The Indian tribes of these northern regions live altogether by huntingand fishing. They are not warlike, as are the tribes of the greatprairies, but in their pagan state have many vile and abominablepractices, which show that they are just as bad as those who delight inwar and as much in need of the Gospel. 

Missionaries of the different denominations have gone into these remoteregions, have lived amidst many privations, and have given their livesto the blessed work of Christianising, and then civilising these longneglected people. They have not toiled in vain. Thousands haverenounced their paganism and become earnest, genuine Christians. Themissionary life in such a land and among such a people is, as might bewell imagined, very different from that in other countries. 

As these mission fields are in such high latitudes the winter is verylong and severe. Hence, the habitations to be at all comfortable mustbe very warmly built. There is no limestone in that land, andconsequently, no lime. As a poor substitute, mud is used. The housesare built with a framework of squared timber which is well logged up, and the chinks well packed with moss and mud. When this is thoroughlydry, and made as air-tight as possible, the building is clapboarded, andlined with tongued and grooved boards. Double windows are used to helpkeep out the bitter cold. When well built and cared for, some of thesehomes are fairly comfortable; very different from the wretched, uncomfortable abodes some of the early missionaries were content todwell in. 

As great forests are everywhere in those regions, wood is used for fuelinstead of coal. Great box stoves are kept red hot day and night fromOctober until May. 

The food used by the missionaries was the same as that on which theIndians lived. Flour was almost unknown. Fish and game affordedsubsistence to nearly all. It is true that, many years ago, the greatSaskatchewan, brigades of boats came to Norway house and York factoryloaded down with vast quantities of pemmican and dried buffalo meat; butlong since the great herds of buffalo have been exterminated, and thefar-famed pemmican is now but a memory of the past. The last time I sawthe wharves of the Hudson Bay Company's post at Norway House piled upwith bags of pemmican, was in 1871. This pemmican was pounded buffalomeat, mixed with the tallow and preserved in large bags made out of thegreen hides of the slaughtered animals, and was the food that for somemonths of each year gave variety to our fish diet. It was healthy andnourishing to persons of good appetites and unimpaired digestive organs;but to those not to the "manner born, " or unaccustomed to it all theirdays, it appeared, whether cooked or raw, as partaking more of thenature of soap grease, than of anything more inviting. Cut it has goneto return no more: much to the satisfaction of some, and to the regretof others. 

I and my Indian fishermen used to catch about ten thousand white fish ingill nets every October and November. These we hung up on great stageswhere they froze as solid as stones. A few hundred we would pack awayin the snow and ice for use in the following May, when those left on thestages began to suffer from the effects of the spring warmth. These tenthousand fish were needed by the missionary's family and his dogs: thefaithful dogs, from whom so much was required, lived on them all thetime, while the missionary's family had them on the table twenty-onetimes a week for six months. 

During the winter we had certain varieties of game which I shot, orwhich the Indian hunters brought in and exchanged with us for tea, sugar, cotton, flannels, or other things. All trade was done by barter, as there was no money then in the land. During the spring and summermonths, occasionally, a wild goose or some ducks were obtained, andproved acceptable additions to our bill of fare. 

Once or twice during the summer the boats of the Hudson Bay Company--thegreat trading corporation of the country--brought us from civilisation, our yearly supplies. These consisted of: a few bags of flour, a keg ofbolster, a can of coal oil, tea, sugar, soap, and medicines. They alsobrought an assortment of plain, but good, articles of clothing and drygoods which we required in our own household, and with which we alsopaid the Indians whom we had to hire, as fishermen, dog-drivers, canoemen or guides on my long journeys over the great mission fieldwhich was several hundreds of miles square. 

So many were the calls upon us on account of the sickness and terriblepoverty of the people, that often our little stock of flour was soongone. Other luxuries quickly followed, and is the mission home, as inthe wigwams of the natives, the great staple was fish, fish, fish. 

So many have inquired how Mrs Young and I managed so long to live andthrive, and keep up our health and spirits, on an almost exclusive fishdiet, that I will here give the plan we pursued. 

We were in good health, and charmed with, and thankful for, our work. We both had so much to do, and were kept very busy either in our owncosy little log house home, or outside among the Indians, that ourappetites were generally very good and we were ready for our meals assoon as they were ready for us. Still, after all, the very monotony ofthe unchangeable fish diet sometimes proved too much for us. We would, perhaps, be seated at the break fast table, neither of us with anyappetite for the fish before us. We would sip away at our cups of teawithout apparently noticing that the fish were untested, and chat aboutour plans for the day. 

"My dear, " I would say, "what are you going to do to-day?"

"I am going to have Kennedy harness up my dogs, and drive me up theriver to Playgreen point to see how that old sick woman is getting onand take her the warm blanket I promised her. I will also stop to seehow those sick babies are, and how Nancy's little twins are prospering. In the afternoon I want to drive over to York village and seeOosememou's sick wife--What is your day's programme?"

To my good wife's question, my answer would be after this fashion:

"Well, first of all, as word has come that the wolves have been visitingour fish-cache, Martin Papanekis and I have arranged to drive over therewith the dogs to see the extent of the damage. We may be detained somehours making the place so strong, that if they visit it again, which islikely, they will be unable to reach the fish. Then we will spend therest of the day in that vicinity, visiting and praying with theneighbours. "

Having taken our tea, we had prayers, and soon after began to carry outthe programmes of the day. 

For several winters we kept for our varied duties, a number of dogs. Mrs Young and I each had our favourite dog-trains. So widely scatteredwere the Indians, and for such diverse reasons did they look to us andclaim our attention, that our lives were full, not only of solicitudefor their welfare, but we were, sometimes for days together kept on the"go, " often travelling many miles each day in visiting the sick andafflicted, and in looking after the interests of those who needed ourpersonal help. 

On that particular day in which the conversation above recorded washeld, it was after dark ere our work was accomplished and we met in ourlittle dining-room for our evening meal. It was really the first mealof the day; for we had a tacit understanding that when these timesarrived that we could not really enjoy our fish diet, we wouldresolutely put in the whole days work without tasting food. The resultwas, that when we drew up to the table after having refused the morningbreakfast, and ignored the midday meal, we found that our appetite, evenfor fish, had returned, and we enjoyed them greatly. And what was more, the appetite for them remained with us for some considerable timethereafter. 

Hunger is still a good sauce; and we found--and others also have madethe same discovery--that when the appetite fails and there is a tendencyto criticise, or find fault with the food, or even with the cook, avoluntary abstinence for two or three meals will be most beneficial formind and body, and bring back a very decided appreciation of some ofGod's good gifts which hitherto had been little esteemed. 

Of course the great and prominent work was the preaching of the Gospeland the teaching of the people to read the Word of God. To this latterwork we devote a full chapter and so need not refer to it here. Nextperhaps to the direct results obtained by the preaching of the Word, weaccomplished the most good by the medical work. 

Indians are fond of medicine and are believers in large doses. Thehotter the dose is with cayenne pepper, or the more bitter with anypowerful drug, the more it is relished, and the greater faith they havein its power to effect a cure. Various were the expedients of some ofthem to induce us to give them a good strong cup of tea, made doubly hotwith red pepper. In their estimation such a dose was good for almostany disease with which they could be afflicted, and was especiallywelcomed in the cold and wintry days, when the mercury was frozen hard, and the spirit thermometer indicated anything between forty and sixtydegrees below zero. 

Practical sympathy never failed to reach some hearts, and so influencedthem, that they were ultimately brought to Christ. 

So poverty stricken were the people, that the opportunities of helpingthem were many. Looked at from our standpoint of comfort, they had verylittle with which to make themselves happy. Few indeed were theirpossessions. Owning the land in common, there was in it no wealth toany one of them; but neither were there any landlords, or rents. Alltheir other possessions were their wigwams, traps, nets, guns, canoes, dogs, and clothing. They lived from hand to mouth, as they had nofacilities for keeping any surplus food even if they were ever fortunateenough to secure more than they needed for their immediate wants. Ifsome were successful in killing a number of deer or bears, they made butlittle attempt at trying to dry or preserve some of the meat for futureuse. Very rarely, a little deer-pemmican would be made out of some ofthe venison; but this was an exceptional case. The general plan, was tokeep open house after a successful hunt, with the pot boilingcontinually, everybody welcomed and told to eat heartily while thesupply lasted. He was considered a mean man indeed, who, beingfortunate in killing a large quantity of game, did not share it with allwho happened to come along. This hospitality was often earned to suchan extent, that there would be but very little left for the hunterhimself, or for his own family. 

Thus, life among the Indians for long generations, was a kind ofcommunism. No unfortunate one actually starved to death in the villageso long as there was a whitefish or a haunch of venison in thecommunity. It was feast together when plenty comes; starve togetherwhen plenty goes. They could not at first understand why, when themissionary had anything in his mission house, he hesitated about givingit out to any one who said he was hungry. This plan, of once a yeargetting in front the outside world supplies to last a whole year, wasindeed a mystery to them. They had an idea that it was very nice to seeso many things coming in by the company's boats; but when they were oncein the house, the pagan Indians thought that they should be used up asquickly as anybody asked for them. The practice of rationing out thesupplies to last for twelve months, was a style of procedure that morethan once exposed a missionary, who rigidly adhered to it, to be thoughtmean, stingy, and very unfriendly. They even questioned thetruthfulness of one frugal, careful missionary, who carried out thissystem. When asked to help some hungry Indians, he refused on the pleathat he had nothing left, knowing that that month's supply was gone. They reasoned from the fact, that, they knew that he had the balance ofhis year's supply stored away. 

One very interesting phase of our work, was to help the Indian families, who had moved from a wigwam into a cosy little house, into the mysteriesof civilised housekeeping. It is true that these houses were not verylarge or imposing. They were generally built only of logs, well chinkedup with moss and mud, and consisted of but one room, with the fireplacein the end or side. As the people were able, they put up partitions andadded various little conveniences. At first, when a family moved intoone of these homes, some of its members would be very much inclined tokeep to their wigwam habits. As these were very shiftless, and farbelow what we considered to be their possibilities of methodical andtidy housekeeping, some practical lessons had to be given. As they werewilling to learn, various plans and methods were adopted to help them. The following was the most successful and perhaps on the whole, to allconcerned, the most interesting. When we were aware that some newhouses had been erected and taken possession of by families who hadknown no other habitations than their wigwams, I would announce from thepulpit on Sabbath, that during the week, in connection with my pastoralvisitations, Mrs Young and I would dine at Pugamagon's house on Monday, on Tuesday with Oostasemou, and on Wednesday with Oosememou. Theseannouncements at first caused great consternation among the familiesmentioned. When the services were over and we were leaving the church, we would be accosted by the men whose names I had mentioned, generallyin words like these:

"Could we believe our ears to-day, when we thought we heard you say, that you and Ookemasquao, (Mrs Young's Indian name) were coming over todine with us?"

"Certainly, your ears are all right. That is what they heard, and thatis what we are thinking of doing, " would be our answer. 

"Nothing but fish, have we to set before you, " would generally be theirreply, uttered in tones of regret. 

"Well, that is all right. It is what we generally eat at home, " wewould reply. 

"Well, but we have no table as yet, or chairs, or dishes fit for you, "would be their next objection. 

"That is all right, we are coming. "

Meantime, their half frightened wives would be seen standing behindtheir husbands, most attentively listening to the conversation. 

When they found that this enumeration of the lack of variety of food andthe poverty of their new homes, could not deter us from ourdetermination to dine with them, almost in desperation they would say:

"Well, what are we to do to be ready to receive you?"

"That is the very question we wanted you to ask, " I would reply. "Now Iwill tell you what is in our hearts. Have plenty of your fish ready andwe will look after the rest of the dinner. But there are several otherthings about which we are anxious, and to which we want you to attend:first, we want to see when we visit you, how very clean and sweet yournew house will be; then, we are also anxious to see, how neat and tidythe members of the family will be; we also wish to see, how bright andpolished all your kettles, pots, and plates, will be. We are bothcoming to your homes as I announced, so be on the lookout and ready forus. I believe we will all have a good time. "

Somewhat relieved by this interview, they would start off to theirhomes. 

Soon after breakfast on Monday morning, Mrs Young would have her owndog-train and cariole brought up to the door, aid aided by willinghands, the cariole would be quickly loaded up for the visit to theIndian home announced for that day's visit. 

Perhaps it is but right here to state, that we never inflicted thesevisits upon our Indians except when we had abundance of supplies of somekind or other in the mission house, and were thus able to carry oversufficient, with the fish the family supplied, for a hearty meal. So, in her cariole Mrs Young had, not only this liberal supply of food, with plenty of tea and sugar, but a large tablecloth, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, and other essentials. About nine o'clock she was drivenover to the home, where, with a certain amount of trepidation, theexpectant family were awaiting her coming. They had been at work veryearly and never did a floor made of well-planed spruce boards shinewhiter. For hours it had been scrubbed; an unlimited amount ofelbow-grease aided by some soft soap made out of strong lye and thegrease of a fat dog, had done the work most completely. The faces ofthe children showed that they had been most thoroughly polished, whileall the family were arrayed in their Sunday apparel. Every kettle andpot bore evidence of the early hour at which the family had arisen andbegun operations. 

The instructions given to me, were, that I was not to put in anappearance until about half-past twelve, and I was so interested that Iwas generally on time. 

It was a very gratifying sight that met me, and a very cordial welcomethat I received. Every member of the family was simply radiant withhappiness and my good wife had most thoroughly caught the contagion ofthe hour. I, of course, shook hands all round and kissed the fat littlebaby in its quaint, moss-bag cradle. Then, we were speedily informed ofwhat was very evident, that dinner was ready. There was not a chair ortable in the house. The snow white tablecloth was spread out on thealmost equally snow white floor, and upon it were placed in orderplates, cups, and saucers, knives and forks. Then the dinner which hadbeen cooked in various pots, and pans, at the capacious fireplace, wasserved up, or rather, down, and in our assigned places we seatedourselves Indian-like, upon the floor. After heaven's blessing wasasked, the feast began. The menu was not very elaborate. Spoiledchildren of luxury, with lost appetites, might have sneered at it, butto us in that land, and especially to this happy Indian family, it wasone of the great events of their lives. The missionary and his wifewere happy because they saw these poor people so happy. 

For perhaps three hours, Mrs Young, had been the instructor of thatIndian motherland her daughters, as under her direction they preparedthat dinner, and they were very proud of their teacher. 

The dinner was pronounced a great success, and after it was over, andall had had an abundance, the Bible in the syllabic characters, wasbrought out and read, when all devoutly kneeling, the missionary with aglad heart offered up an earnest prayer for heaven's blessing ever toabide upon that home. 

After prayers I was expected to leave, while Mrs Young remained for therest of the day. When she returned to our mission home in the evening, tired, but very happy over her day's work, she would give me someglimpses into the doings of the afternoon. Of course, the first thing, was to teach the women how, nicely and carefully, to wash and put awaythe dishes; then, the house was once more swept up, when they were readyfor the afternoons work. Sometimes the happy Indian mother was able tobring out a nice piece of dress cloth, which her now kind. Christianhusband, had bought for her in exchange for his valuable furs. Thisdress piece had to be cut and fitted by Mrs Young. When asked as tohow she wished to have it made she would generally say:

"Please, Ookemasquao, cut it out so that it will be like the one you hadon in church, last Sunday. "

So, as far as possible, the dress was cut and fitted in that style, thesewing of it commenced, and full instructions given so that the ownermight go on working, until she became perplexed with its intricacies, when she would come to the mission house for help, and so on until thework was completed. 

In addition to thus helping in dressmaking there were lessons to begiven in patching and darning, and in lengthening out, or adding to, thedresses of the rapidly growing Indian girls. 

Thus, from house to house we went, and for long years after the goodresults of those visits remained; thus, was a noble ambition stirred inthose Indian women's lives to try and keep house like Ookemasquao; andthus, they endeavoured to let their husbands and children see, that nolonger did they wish to live in the careless way of the old pagan life, but, as now they had become Christians in their profession, so in theirhomes, they would have the neatness and cleanliness, that should belongto those who are thus called. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

HOW THE GOSPEL IS CARRIED: BY CANOE IN SUMMER; BY DOG-TRAIN IN WINTER. 

That great northern country is a land of innumerable lakes and rivers. Unfortunately, many of the streams abound with rapids, and navigation onthem, as generally understood, is an impossibility. Hence, the only wayof travelling on them in summer, is in the light birch canoe or in someother craft, so portable, that it can be carried or dragged across themany portages that are so numerous in that land of cataracts and falls. 

From time immemorial, the birch canoe has been considered a part of thecraft of the Indian. Centuries of its use has enabled him so to perfectit, that although attempts have been made by the white man to improveit, they have not been very successful. 

One of our missionaries, who was one of the best canoemen in thecountry, was conceited enough to imagine, that the beautiful cedar canoeof the white man was superior to the birch-bark ones of the natives. Socertain was he of this, that at a good deal of trouble and expense, hehad one of the very best models sent to him all the way from Ontario toNorway House. On the beautiful Playgreen lake and other similar places, he enjoyed it amazingly; but when he started off on his missionarytouring, the Indians, who are the best judges of these things urged himnot to attempt in that beautiful, but unreliable boat, to run the wildrapids of the mighty Nelson or other great rivers. He, however, onlylaughed at their fears and protestations. A number of them set offtogether on a long missionary journey, one of the objects of which was, to assist in the building of a new church. For a time, the erection ofthe little sanctuary in the wilderness went on uninterruptedly, much tothe delight of the resident Christian Indians, who had long wished forone in which to worship God. 

The securing of sufficient food for the builders, was one of the dutiesthat devolved upon, and gave considerable anxiety to, the missionary. When the supplies which had been secured were about exhausted, and itseemed as though the work of building would have to cease on account ofthe lack of food, word came through some passing hunters that they hadseen abundance of sturgeon sporting at the foot of some great rapids ofthe Nelson River. As they are considered delicious and nourishing food, an expedition was at once prepared to go and capture as many of them aspossible. The missionary himself, an energetic, active man, took chargeof the party, and insisted, on going in his beautiful cedar canoe. Whenthey reached the head of the rapids, at the foot of which the sturgeonwere reported to have been seen in such numbers, there was a brief restere the run down was attempted. The Indians all protested against themissionary's resolve to run such wild rapids in a canoe which they werecertain was so unfitted for such a dangerous trip. The missionary, however, was stubborn and unmoved by their entreaties. When they sawthat their words availed not, to change his resolve, an old experiencedguide said:

"Well, then let one of us go with you, to sit in the stern of your boatand help you to steer, and also, by our weight, to keep the head of yourcanoe high up as we run the rapids. "

This kindly offer to risk and to share the dangers, he also refused, saying, "that he could go in his white man's canoe anywhere an Indiancould go in a birch-bark. " Their objection to his canoe, was, that itwas not built high enough in front, and so when he made the last wildrush in the rapids where the pitch in the waters was so steep, insteadof the boat rising like a duck on the mad billows at the foot, it wouldplunge under like a log and disappear. 

Well would it have been for the wilful missionary if he had listened tothe advice of these experienced men who knew what they were talkingabout. He, however, cut them short by ordering them to enter theircanoes and go on, and he would soon follow. With regret they left himthere, sitting on a rock, leisurely watching them as they began thehazardous trip. With care and skill, the Indians all succeeded insuccessfully running those dangerous rapids which are as wild and fierceas any in the Saint Lawrence. As quickly as possible they went ashoreat the foot, and, with their hearts full of foreboding, clustered at apoint where they could watch the missionary make the run. 

Alas! their fears were too well grounded. Down the rushing, roaringriver, they saw the brave, but rash man, coming. With consummate skillin the upper rapids, did he manage his beautifully polished craft; butwhen the last wild plunge at the foot was made, both canoe andmissionary suddenly disappeared. It was many days ere the poor putridbody was recovered, far away down the great river. 

A solitary grave is there on the bank, and a little tombstone set up byloving hands, records the name of this brave, but rash man. 

For the manufacture of a first class Indian canoe, the birch-bark mustbe taken from the tree at the right time of the year with the greatestcare. The framework must be arranged with a skill and accuracy thatcomes only of long practice. The fact is, the first-class canoe-makers, were about as rare among the tribes, as are first-class poets incivilisation. Many Indians could make canoes; but there were a few menwhose fame for their splendid crafts, were known far and wide, and whowere always able to obtain the highest price for all they could make. 

It is really wonderful, considering the cranky nature of a canoe at itsbest, what journeys can be made in them. My skilled canoeman and I usedto run wild rapids, and cross over storm swept lakes of largedimensions. We lived on the game we could shoot as we hurried along, slept on the rocks or sandy beach where night overtook us, and werealways thankful when we found the little companies of Indians for whomwe were seeking. As they were generally eager to hear the truth, butlittle time was lost between the religious services. Long sermons andaddresses were the order of the day; and often from early morn untillate at night, there was only the short intermissions for our hastymeals of fish or game. 

As we journeyed on from place to place, our meals were cooked and eatenin the open air, and for days we met no human beings. Our bed was onsome balsam boughs, if obtainable; if not, a smooth granite rock orsandy beach did very well. So healthful were we, and so congenial wasthe work and its surroundings, that there were no sleepless nights, except when sometimes myriads of mosquitoes assailed us, or a fiercethunderstorm swept over us. Then the nights were not so pleasant, andwe welcomed the coming of the day, even if, because of the storm, itrevealed a damp condition of affairs among our supplies. 

This was the general plan of our proceedings: when we reached one of thelittle Indian villages at a time which had been, perhaps, arranged sixmonths or a year before. All who possibly could come in from contiguousfishing or hunting grounds, were there to meet me; then, for severaldays services would be held, after which the Indians would return totheir different hunting grounds, while I would again launch my canoe andwith my skilled paddlers, push on to some other point, where would begathered another company of Indians awaiting my arrival and longing tohear the glorious Gospel of the Son of God. 

Very precious was the Word to those people so isolated. The coming ofthe missionary in his canoe to preach to them, and perhaps teach themhow to read for themselves the precious Book, was one of the few happybreaks during the brief summer months in their lonely, monotonous lives. They were ever on the lookout for my coming, and especially did thosewho had renounced their paganism and accepted Christianity give me ahearty welcome, even if it was expressed in their quiet, dignified way. 

The Indian's alertness and keenness of hearing, as well as of seeing, was something remarkable to me. The following is a good illustration ofit. One summer, when thus travelling, I was on the lookout for somefriendly Indians whose camping place was determined each summer by theabundance of the food supply. Anxious to make as much of the time aspossible, my men and I were paddling away in our canoe at four o'clockin the morning. To hasten our progress, we pushed out into the centreof the great river, down which we were travelling, as there the currentwas much more rapid than near the shore. At that early hour, themorning mists still lay low and dense on either side, completely hidingfrom view every object on the shore. While thus pushing on betweenthose walls of vapoury mist, we were startled by the rapid firing ofguns. To me this was a decided mystery, but it was at once understoodby my experienced canoemen. Quickly turning the head of our canoe inthe direction from which came the tiring, they paddled through the nowrapidly disappearing vapours, and there on the shore we descried acompany of friendly Indians on the lookout for our coming. Their earshad been of more service than their eyes; for although they had beenunable to see us, their practiced ears had caught the sound of ourpaddles. After greeting us most cordially, they produced some smokedreindeer tongues and other native delicacies which they had brought forthe missionary. Some very suggestive and profitable religious serviceswere enjoyed there by the riverside. For the comfort and encouragementof those who had already become His children we talked of the lovingkindnesses and providential care of our Heavenly Father. We alsopleaded with those who had not yet decided to renounce the paganism oftheir forefathers, to do so speedily and to accept of the religion ofthe Lord Jesus Christ. 

Thus the work went on, and through many happy summers, my canoe wasafloat for days on many waters, while as a glad messenger, I travelledthrough the wilderness beseeching men and women to be reconciled to God. 

Of the dog-travelling in that land so much has been written, that but ashort account need here be given. Winter begins in those regions in thelatter part of October and continues without any perceptible break untilApril. So immense, however, are the ice-fields on the great lakes, thatthey do not all disappear until a month or six weeks later. One winterI was able to make quite a long journey with my dog-trains, arrivinghome as late as the eighteenth of May. At that date, however, the snowhad all disappeared and the frost was nearly all out of the ground. 

The cold is intense, the spirit thermometer indicating from thirty tosixty below zero. We have seen the mercury frozen as solid as lead forweeks together. For months milk is frozen into cakes like marble. Weused to carry large pieces of it wrapped up in a newspaper, and when atthe camp-fire we desired a little in our cup of tea, we cut it off withan axe. As will be seen from this we had about seven months of brightcold winter. During all that time there was not a thaw, the snow wasnever soft, and there was no dampness in the air or under foot. Softdeer skin moccasins are very much superior to civilised boots or shoesunder such conditions. 

There are no roads in that vast country. The frost King freezes upevery lake and stream, and hardens into adamant every muskeg and quakingbog. The snow covers everything with its great mantle of beauty, andmakes it possible to travel on snow-shoes or by dog-train through vastregions absolutely impassable in the summer months. Horses or otherlarge animals, are absolutely worthless for travel in such regions. Thesnow is a great leveller. It fills up many a dangerous pitfall and putssuch a cushion on the logs and rocks, that upsets or falls are onlylaughed at by the dog-travellers as they merrily dash along. The onlydrawbacks to a tumble down a steep declivity of some hundreds of feet, as once befell the writer, were the laughter of his comrades, and thedelay incident to digging him out of the snowdrift at the bottom, whichwas anywhere from twenty to thirty feet deep. These accidents anddelays were not frequent; and, although there were hardships andsufferings, there were many things to instruct and interest, and tobreak the monotony of winter travelling in that lonely land. 

In the coldest, brightest, sunniest days, the fitful mirage played itsstrange antics with distant landscapes, and at times brought within nearvision places many miles away. Sometimes circle within circle appearedaround the sun, until as many as four were distinctly visible; eachcircle at times having within it four mock suns--sixteen mock sunsvisible at the same time was a sight worth going a long distance to see. Strange to say, the Indians dreaded the sight of them, as they declaredthey were always the forerunners of blizzard storms; and the more vividthese sun-dogs, as they called them, the more dreadful would be thestorm. 

But the most fascinating and glorious of all the celestial phenomena ofthose glorious regions, are the Northern Lights--the Aurora Borealis. Confined to no particular months of the year, we have seen them flashingand quivering through the few hours of the short nights following thehottest days in July or August, as well as in the long cold nights ofthe winter months. They would sometimes linger on all night in theirweird beauty, until lost in the splendour of the coming day. Adescription of them has often been attempted by writers of northernscenes, and I have to confess, that I have been rash enough to try itelsewhere; but their full glories are still unwritten and perhaps everwill be. They appear to belong to the spiritual rather than to theearthly; and there are times when they so dazzle and overwhelm, that itdoes seem as though only the language of spirits is adequate to the taskof describing them. Then they are so changeable. Never have I seen twogreat exhibitions of them alike. At first they are of purest white; butwhen the scintillations begin, they take on every colour of the rainbow. Sometimes they appear in great brilliant arcs, as in the illustration. At other times they are simply ribbons of wavy undulations that seem tosoothe, as well as charm, with their rhythmic motions and ever changinghues. At still other times they are mighty armies of disciplinedwarriors going out to conflict. Then, when they seem wearied with theirwarlike deeds, they appear to marshal all their forces; and, fairlyfilling the northern heavens, to rush on, and up, until the very zenithis reached, where they form a corona of such dazzling splendour, that itreally seems as though the longing prayer of the church militant wasbeing fulfilled; and, that universal triumph had come to the world'sRedeemer here, and now the angelic and redeemed hosts of heaven andearth are bringing forth the Royal Diadem to "crown Him Lord of all. "

The dogs which we use in the dog-trains, are generally of any breed thathas in it size, endurance, and sagacity. The Esquimaux breed of dogsformerly predominated; but in later years there has been such anadmixture of other varieties, that a pure Esquimaux dog is now a rarityexcept at some of the most northern posts and missions. My worthypredecessor among the Crees, left me a train of mongrels, that were goodenough for hauling wood and fish for the mission; and also for the shorttrips to the places near home where I held weekly services; but when Iattempted to make the long journeys of hundreds of miles to the remoteparts of my great mission field, which was larger than all England orthe state of New York, they proved miserable failures. Travelling withsuch dogs, was like the experience of the man who, in the olden times, paid first-class fare to ride in a packet boat on the Erie canal, fromNew York to Buffalo, and then drove a horse on the towpath all the way. So, after nearly killing myself travelling with weak or lazy dogs, having to walk or run on snowshoes all the time on account of theirinability to draw me, I resolved, if possible, to become the owner ofbetter ones. I appealed to some good friends in civilisation to aid me, and the result was, that I was soon supplied with some of the finestdogs that could be obtained. Among them, Jack and Cuffy, the gifts ofSenator Sanford of Hamilton, were never equalled. Through the kindnessof James Ferrier, Esquire, of Montreal, five beautiful Saint Bernardswere obtained from Mrs Andrew Allan. Dr Mark of Ottawa, and otherfriends also remembered me, with the result, that soon I had some of thefinest dog-trains in the land. These civilised dogs had all the goodqualities of the Esquimaux without any of their thievish tricks. Theyproved themselves equal in their endurance and sagacity; and only lackedin that their feet seemed more easily to become injured and sore. 

The dog-sleds are ten feet long and eighteen inches wide. They are usedto carry our bedding and supplies, as often for days and nights togetherwe are entirely dependent on our loads for food and lodgings. Thesemiscellaneous loads are well packed up in the great deer skin wrappersand so securely tied to the sleds, that no matter how many may be theupsets, the loads never become disarranged. My own sled, which wascalled a "cariole, " was one of the usual oak sleds with parchment sidesand a firm back attached. Sometimes these carioles were handsomelypainted and were very comfortable vehicles in which to ride. When wellwrapped up in fur robes, with plenty of fat meat to eat, splendid dogsto draw you, and loving loyal Indian attendants with you dog-travellingwas not without its pleasures and enjoyments; especially if the sun wasbright, the icy pavement under you free from drifting snows, and thetemperature not colder than forty degrees below zero. It was adifferent thing, however, when blizzards howled around you and the airwas so fall of the fine cutting particles of icy snow, that it wasdangerous to expose any part of the face to their pitiless attacks. Then it was, that the marvellous skill of the experienced Indian-guidewas seen, and we were led on amidst such miserable surroundings with anaccuracy and speed that seemed almost incredible. 

The camp, when the day's travel was ended--especially if blizzards hadassailed us--was a welcomed spot, even if it was only a whole day out inthe snow on the sheltered side on some dense spruce or balsam grove. Attimes we were able to find places in which thus to camp that were quitepicturesque. When the halt for the night was called by the guide, thefirst thing done was to unharness our faithful dogs. Our snow-shoeswere improvised as shovels, and from the spot selected as our restingplace, the snow was quickly piled up in a great bank at our rear; and, sometimes, if the night threatened to be unusually severe, on each sideof us. 

Then the great roaring fire of dry wood, at which we cooked our suppers, thawed out the fish for our dogs, and warmed our half frozen bodies, wasvery welcome. When supper was eaten, and prayers, so sweet andprofitable to us all, were over, how delightful to sit down on our robesand spend some hours in pleasant chat ere my bed was made and I wascosily and thoroughly tucked in by my faithful comrades. It was hard atfirst to sleep with the head completely covered; there was such a senseof smothering, that I often ran the risk of the freezing rather than thesmothering. One night, perhaps because of this suffocating sensation, Iunconsciously uncovered my head. After a time I awoke suddenly toconsciousness, to find that I was trying to pull off my now frozen nosewhich I thought was the end of an axe handle. 

We fed our dogs on fish, giving them only one meal a day, and that one, when the day's work was done. To feed them in the morning, caused themto be sluggish and stupid for some time thereafter; and the samehappened if they were fed at noon. Long experience has shown, that thedogs thrive the best, and are able to do the most work, on one good mealgiven to them before their long night's rest. The dog-shoes, which areso essential to their comfort and recovery when a foot is frozen orbadly injured, are much prized by them. These shoes are made out of awarm English cloth called duffle, and are in shape like a large mitwithout a thumb. An old dog that has once become accustomed to dogshoes, is ever hankering after them when on a long cold trip. Sometimes, they will come and most comically hold up their feet to beshod. At other times, they have been known to come into camp and therelie down on their backs, and, holding up their four feet, plead mostludicrously and importunately for these warm woollen shoes. Some ofthem get very cunning at their work, and shirk from doing their share ofthe pulling; and yet, to avoid discovery, will appear to be doing morework than any other dog in the train. 

But this dog travelling was hard work at best; and dogs, as well astheir master, were always glad when the long journeys were ended and awelcome rest for a little while could be taken, to heal up the woundsand frost bites, and gather strength for the next trip. 

Good was accomplished, and that was the great reward for all the risksrun and sufferings endured. Many for whom Christ died, would never upto the present hour, have heard the Gospel or have seen the Book, if ithad not been for the missionary carrying it to them by the canoe insummer, and the dog-train in winter. Thank God, many of them have heardand have accepted gladly the great salvation thus brought to them. Withits reception into their hearts and lives, marvellous have been thetransformations. Where the devil-dance, and ghost-dance, and otherabominations, performed to the accompaniment of the conjurer's rattle orthe monotonous drumming of the medicine man, once prevailed and held thepeople in a degrading superstition, the house of prayer has now beenerected, and the wilderness has become vocal with the sweet songs ofZion. Lives once impure and sinful have been transformed by theGospel's power, and a civilisation real and abiding, has come in tobless and to add to their comfort for this life, while they dwell in asweet and blessed assurance of life eternal in the world to come. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

GOD ON THE ROCK, OR HOW THE INDIANS ARE TAUGHT TO READ THE BOOK. 

The British and Foreign Bible Society, the American Bible Society, andother kindred institutions that print and scatter the Word of God, havebeen, and are, of incalculable benefit to the missionaries. 

Long ago the Psalmist said: "The entrance of thy words giveth light;"and blessedly and gloriously is this truth being realised. 

No matter where a missionary goes, he feels much hampered if he has notthe Book in the language of the people. It is a matter of thankfulness, that in these later years--thanks to these glorious Bible Societies--there is hardly a land or nation where a missionary can go, but he willfind the Bible printed in the language or languages of that nation, andoffered to the people at rates so reasonable, that the poorest of thepoor may have it if they will. But it was not always so, and we neednot go back to Wickliffe or Tyndal to read of difficulties in the way ofpresenting to the common people the Word of God in their own tongue. All the great missionary societies in their earlier days had theirCareys, and Morrisons, and Duffs, who struggled on, and perseveredagainst oppositions and difficulties that to ordinary mortals would havebeen insurmountable, and would have filled them with despair. 

The difficulties that John Eliot had to overcome ere he was able to givethe Bible to the Indians of New England, were numerous and exasperating;but his indomitable will carried him through to ultimate success. Sadindeed is it to think, that there is not a man, woman or child of themleft to read his Bible. All the tribes for whom, at such a cost oftears and difficulties, he translated the Book, are gone. The greed forland and the cruelties of the early settlers, were too much for the poorIndian. From his different reservations where Eliot, Brainard, Mayhews, and other devoted friends tried to save him, he was driven back, back, with such destruction and loss at each move, that ultimately he wassimply wiped out. And so to-day, in the library of Harvard Universityand in a very few other places, there are to be found copies of Eliot'sBible; sealed books, which no man can read; a sad evidence of "Man'sinhumanity to man. "

One of the most signal triumphs in giving the Bible to a people in theirown language, and printed in a way so simple as to be very easilyacquired by them, is that of the translation and printing of the Book inthe syllable characters. These syllabic characters were invented by theRev James Evans, one of the early Methodist missionaries to thescattered tribes of Indians in what were then known as the Hudson BayTerritories. For some years Mr Evans had been employed as a missionaryamong the Indians who resided on different reservations in the Provinceof Ontario, then known as Upper Canada. At the request of the parentWesleyan Missionary Society, and at the solicitation of the Hudson BayFur-trading Company, Mr Evans, accompanied by some devoted brothermissionaries went into those remote northern regions to begin missionaryoperations. Mr Evans and some of his companions travelled all the wayfrom Montreal to Norway House, on the Nelson River, in a birch-barkcanoe. A look at the map will give some idea of the length andhardships of such a journey in those days. But they succeeded inaccomplishing it; and with glad hearts began their blessed work of theevangelisation of the natives. 

Missionary methods must necessarily differ in different lands. Themissionary to succeed must be a man who can adopt himself to hissurroundings; and he must be quick to see where success can be mosteasily attained. Here was a people who were fishermen and hunters, living far north of the agricultural regions. As hunters, they wereever on the go, so that it was almost an impossibility to keep them longenough in one place to teach them to read in the ordinary way. Overthese difficulties Mr Evans pondered and worked and, after any amountof experimenting and failure, succeeded in inventing and perfecting thatis known as the syllabic characters. 

These very simple characters each represent a syllable, so all thedifficulties of learning to spell are done away with. In prosecutinghis work, Mr Evans had to labour under many disadvantages. Living in aland so remote from civilisation, he had but little material on which toexperiment, and but few facilities to aid him. From the fur-traders hebegged a few sheets of the lead that lines the interior of tea chests. This he melted into suitable pieces, out of which he carved his firsttype. For paper he was obliged at first to use birch bark. His ink wasmanufactured out of the soot from his chimney and sturgeon oil. Yetwith these rude appliances he succeeded in being able to print portionsof the Scriptures and some hymns in the language of the Cree Indians. When the story of his marvellous invention reached England, generousfriends came to his assistance. From some of his types, as models, agenerous supply was cast; these, with a good hand printing press and allnecessary supplies of paper, ink, and other essentials, were shipped tohim by the Hudson Bay Company, to Norway House. For years the work ofprinting portions of the Word of God was there prosecuted, until atlength the British and Foreign Bible Society took up the work, and now, all the Bibles the people require are most cheerfully furnished them bythat most generous and glorious society. 

The love of the Christian Indians for their Bible is very gratifying. So great a comfort and solace is it to them in their solitary wigwamsand lonely hunting-camps, that nothing will induce them to leave it outof their pack. The trail may be rough and the journey of many daysduration; food may have to be carried on their backs for days togetherso that every pound of weight has to be determined upon; days of hungermust be faced ere the journey ends and abundance of game is reached, yetthe Great Book is ever carried as the most prized of all theirpossessions. Such a thing as a Christian Indian throwing out his Bible, when in an emergency his load had to be lightened, I have never known. Their work as hunters gives them a good deal of leisure time, whichenables them to be diligent students of the Book. When in the beginningof the winter, they go to the distant hunting grounds, the hunting lodgeis erected, and the traps and snares and other appliances for capturingthe game are all arranged. Then, especially in the capture of somekinds of game, they have to allow some days to pass ere they visit thetraps. This is to allow all evidences of their presence to disappear, as some of the most valuable fur-bearing animals have a wonderful powerof detecting the presence of man, and will not approach either his trapsor trail, until some considerable time after the hunter had finished hiswork and retired. During these long waitings in their wigwams, orhunting lodges, the Indians have not much with which to interestthemselves; the result is, the Bible has come to them as a wonderfulbenediction. Its startling incidents and stories, become more prizedthan the legends and myths that have come down to them from theirforefathers, and have been repeated over and over in their hearing bythe old story-tellers of the tribe. Then, when the revelation of God'slove in the gift of His Son has been proclaimed to, and received bythem--and here in this Book they can read it for themselves--they arefilled with grateful and adoring love, and the Book is indeed mostprecious. 

As I journeyed among these wonderful people, I carried as part of myoutfit, a number of these syllabic Bibles, and no gift was moreacceptable to those who had but lately renounced their paganism andgiven their hearts to God. In some way or other they had acquired aknowledge of the syllables, so that the acquisition of a Bible that theycould call their own, was a treasure most prized and used. Amongstthose, who until my visit had never seen a Bible or heard a missionary, there were conflicting ideas regarding the Book. Some, at first, wereafraid of it. It was "great medicine, " and only for the white man. Oneold conjurer who boasted of his supernatural powers and of the wonderfulthings he could do by the aid of his "medicines, " failing signally whenI challenged him to show his power, declared, that it was because of theBook which I carried in my pocket. Then, I permitted an Indian to takethe Book some distance away; and when he still failed, he protested thatit was because I had so much of it in my head or heart. Of course thisfeeling of fear for the Book quickly left them as they became acquaintedwith it. When Christianity is accepted, there comes a great love forthe precious volume that has in it so much information of things aboutwhich they are in such ignorance, and that reveals the love of the GreatSpirit for His Indian children. 

The missionaries employed simple and primitive ways to teach thesyllabic characters to those who knew them not, but who were anxious tolearn. Sometimes with a lead pencil on a piece of board or birch-bark, the characters were drawn and slowly and carefully gone over, time andtime again, until they were completely mastered. When pencils gave out, the end of a burnt stick, or a piece of coal from the fire, had to serveas a substitute. 

Our illustration will show one of my methods used at Burntwood River farup in the Nelson River country. I had the honour of being the firstmissionary who ever reached the Indians of that section and preached tothem the Gospel. They are a fine company of Indians, and I found, thatwith the few exceptions of some old conjurers and medicine men andpolygamists, the people were not only glad to see me, but anxious tohear and accept the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. I visited themtwice a year and began the work; but to my beloved first colleague, theRev John Semmens, was given the work of establishing the mission. Onmy visits, which as usual were made with my dogs in winter and by canoein summer, I had to gather the Indians for religious services as best Icould. The large kitchen of the Hudson Bay Company's trading post wasput at my disposal by the officer in charge, who was ever kindlydisposed toward the good work. In this, as well as in the poor wigwamsof the natives, we met, and sang, and prayed, and explained to them aswell as possible the plan of salvation--God's great love toward them. 

In the short brilliant summer the work was very much more pleasant. Then, under the beautiful trees, or where the great rocks rose up aroundus and cast their welcome shadows, we could gather the people and talkof the loving Heavenly Father; not only of His Creative power, but ofHis redeeming love in the gift of His beloved Son. 

In my missionary experiences I have found, that the majority of men aresick of sin. Down in the human heart there is a longing for somethingwhich is only really satisfied by the acceptance of the Lord JesusChrist. It is true that these inner feelings may be long hidden fromouter vision, or there may be an endeavour to satisfy their cravings bythe vigorous exercise of all the religious ceremonies that have beenrevealed to them in their idolatrous or pagan surroundings; but whenthey can be induced to speak out and unburden their very souls, theirbitter wailing cry is one of dissatisfaction and unrest. Happy is themissionary who can so win the confidence of a people thus dissatisfied, that they will reveal to him their heart's burdens and longings. Hisvictory is more than half assured. Christ in His fulness, lovinglypresented to such, and accepted by them, is soon in their hearts asatisfying portion. 

The missionary ever finds among all classes of pagan people that theBook is always considered a mysterious and wonderful volume. Itsmarvellous incidents ever attract. They never tire of the serviceswhere it has a prominent place. Sermons, even though hours in duration, if full of its truths, will be attentively listened to. 

One day at one of these places where I was holding some extendedservices, I said to the friendly Indians who were around me: "Would younot like to read this Book for yourselves?" A chorus of heartyaffirmative answers, was the quick response. It did not take us long toorganise our school, for it was indeed a primitive affair. I wasfortunate in having a goodly number of syllabic Bibles, which, at agreat deal of trouble, we had brought with us in our canoe. We hadcarried them across many a portage and had guarded them from injury inmany a storm. Not one person in that audience except my boatmen, knew aletter or syllabic character. We had no primary books, which areconsidered so essential in organising a school that has to begin atfirst principles; we had not even a slate, pencil, paper, or blackboard. However, "necessity is the mother of invention, " and it was so here. 

Near at hand was a huge rock that towered up like a house, one side ofit being as smooth as a wall. This constituted an admirable substitutefor a blackboard. Burnt sticks from the camp-fire, where our fish andbear's meat had been cooked, were used as substitutes for chalk. (Oursmaller illustration shows thirty-six syllabic characters with theirnames. )

After a few words of explanation the work of memorising the charactersbegan. 

A, E, Oo, Ah. It was just like a lot of little children in a primaryschool beginning with A, B, C. Over, and over again, we repeated them, one after the other, until my mixed audience became familiarised withthe sounds. Thus we studied them for hours. At first the interest inthe work was very great, and from the old men of eighty, to the boys andgirls of six or eight the best of attention was paid. They seemed tovie with one another in their efforts to see which could master themmost quickly. 

After a time the interest flagged considerably, especially among theolder men, as to them, these characters alone, were as yet, unmeaningsounds. Some of them got up and lit their pipes, and moving around, divided their time between the lesson and the smoking. Of course I hadto let them smoke. I might have found it a difficult matter to havestopped them if I had been so foolish as to have tried. So I told themsome pleasant stories, as we toiled on at our lesson, it was not manyhours before a number of my undisciplined pupils had a fairly good ideaof the names of the characters. Knowing that I could arouse theinterest of the most apathetic among them when I began to combine thecharacters into words, I asked for their earnest attention while Iproceeded in my work. 

I marked out some simple words such as: (pa-pa, ) (ma-ma, )(Oo-me-me, )--(English: pigeon. ) I showed them how thus to combine thesesigns into words. This very much interested them; but the climax came, when with the burnt stick I marked (Maneto, --English: God, or the GreatSpirit. ) Great indeed was the excitement among them. They could hardlybelieve their own eyes that before them was Maneto, the Great Spirit. He whom they had heard in the thunder and the storm, whose power theyhad seen in the lightning flash, about whom, with reverence and awe, they had talked in their wigwams, and at their camp-fires--"Maneto!"Here, made by a burnt stick on a rock visible to their eyes, was thatname: _God on the Rock_! It was indeed a revelation. Something thatfilled, and thrilled them, as I have never before or since seen Indiansthrilled. 

For a time I could only keep quiet and look on, and rejoice as I studiedthem. Some of them in their amazement were doubtful of their ownsenses. They acted as though they could not believe their own eyes; sothey appealed to those nearest to them, and said:

"Is it Maneto to you?"

Others were noticed rubbing their eyes, as though they feared that bysome witchery bad medicine had been thrown in them, and, in their Indianphraseology, they were "seeing double. "

There was no more inattention. Every pipe went out, and every eyefollowed me, as in these syllables I wrote on the rock, God is Love. After talking about this a little. I then wrote, God Loves You. Thiswe followed with other short sentences full of blessed Gospel truths. Thus passed some hours in this delightful way, and before they wereended, numbers of my pupils had become quite familiarised with theformation of words out of these characters. 

Then we opened our bundle of Bibles, and, passing them around as far asthey would go, I had them all turn to the first verse of the firstchapter of Genesis. After some explanation of a few additional signswhich they there saw upon the printed page, and which give somevariation to the sound of the syllabic character to which they areattached, we began the study of the verse. Of course our progress atfirst was slow. It could not be otherwise under such circumstances. But we patiently persevered, and it was not very long ere they were ableto read in their own language: "Ma-wache Nistum Kaesamaneto KeoosetouKesik Mesa Askee, (In the beginning God created the heaven and theearth. ")

When they had acquired the ability to read this verse for themselves, and had grasped a little of its meaning, there was another outburst ofdelight. That first verse of Genesis is very suggestive and full ofmeaning to any one, no matter how learned, who strives to investigateit. It is in itself the first chapter of God's revelation of Himself toman, and has long occupied the attention and study of the most godly andprofound. Here, for the first time, it was being read by a company ofpoor Indians just emerging from paganism. But they were sharp and keen, and able to grasp a new truth; and so when the verse first opened beforethem with its wondrous meaning, great was their delight and amazement. 

"Now we know all about it!" some of them shouted. "The Kaesa-Maneto, (the great God, ) made all these things, the heaven and the earth. "

Others said:

"Our fathers talked about it in their wigwams, and wondered how allthese things came as they are; but they had to confess that they were indarkness, and knew nothing. But now we know it! We know it!"

Over and over again they read the verse until they had thoroughlycommitted it to memory. And in after days, at many a campfire and inmany a hunting lodge, it was repeated to others who had not heard it, but who, on hearing it, were also filled with gratification and delightat the answer which it gave to what had long been a subject ofperplexity and awe. 

Day after day before that rock the study of other verses followed. Slowly of course at first, but gradually increasing as they became moreand more acquainted with the syllabics. Thus these eager interestedIndians, studied amidst these primitive surroundings, and appliedthemselves with such earnestness to their work, that although they hadnever been to school a day in their lives, some of them, in ten days ortwo weeks were able to read with fluency the Word of God in their ownlanguage. No wonder the great Lord Dufferin, then Governor General ofthe Dominion of Canada, said to me:

The man who invented that syllabic alphabet, was one of the greatbenefactors of humanity, and more richly deserved a pension, a title, and a resting place in Westminster Abbey, than many who were thereburied. 

For some years, at several of the missions, the Christian Indians wereonly taught a knowledge of these syllabic characters, and were thus onlyable to read the books which were printed with them. Now, however, inall the schools, the English language is taught also, and our commonalphabet is in general use. The result is, that many of the youngergeneration understand, talk, and read in English. English Bibles arebeing circulated among them, and many of the younger people alreadyprefer the English Bible to the Indian translation. Still, all theolder people only understand the syllabic characters; and so for yearsto come, this wonderful invention will still be utilised, and willcontinue to be a benediction. Hymn-books, catechisms, the Pilgrim'sProgress, and a few other books of a religious character, have beenprinted in the syllables, and are much prized and well used, by theirIndian readers. 

All the churches that are currying on missionary work in those vastnorthern regions have availed themselves of Mr Evans' invention. Amongother tribes than the Cree, where there are different sounds in theirlanguage, some few extra characters have been added. Even in Labradorand Greenland the devoted Moravian missionaries who are there toiling, are successfully using the syllabic characters to teach the poorwandering Esquimaux how to read, in his own uncouth Language, the Wordof God. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

THE STORY OF SANDY HARTE. 

Among all of my appointments, the one which perhaps afforded me thegreatest pleasure and satisfaction, was that of Nelson River. At Oxfordhouse we had a larger number of converted Indians; but that mission hadbeen long organised, and devout and earnest men, like Reverend MessrsBrooking, and Stringfellow, had given to it years of honest self-denyingtoil. Nelson River, on the other hand, was a new and untried field, where it was my privilege and joy to go as the first missionary. 

Of the many grand converts there happily rescued from the darkness andpower of paganism, there is one beautiful character who is now the righthand of the resident missionary. His name is Sandy Harte. Myintroduction to him was a peculiar one. The day was one of rare beauty, and I had spent the forenoon in teaching a number of adults and Indianchildren how to read the Word of God printed in the syllabic characters. During the noon hour of rest I entered the birch bark wigwam of one ofthe principal Indians, and was naturally surprised to observe a finelooking Indian lad stretched out on a bed of rabbit robes and blanketswhile the other boys were engaged in various sports. Addressing him, Isaid:

"Why are you lying here this beautiful day?"

With a sudden movement he jerked away the upper robe that was over him, and, pointing to his shattered thigh, said in tones full of bitterness:

"Missionary, that is the reason why I am here, instead of being out inthe sunshine with the other boys. "

The despairing tone, the emphatic utterance, at once aroused mysympathies and caused me to be deeply interested in this wounded boy, sohelpless, not knowing the hour when, according to the prevailing custom, he might be put to death. The heartless reasoning of these Indians insuch cases was like this: he will always be lame and helpless; whyshould he be a burden on his friends? let us kill him at once; it willbe better for him and them. However, they had postponed the killing ofthis lad because he was the son of the chief. 

After I had examined his wound and had given some directions as to itstreatment, I sat down beside him and heard from his lips the sad storyof the misfortune which had crippled him for life. It seems, that heand another boy were out shooting partridges and rabbits. While movingthrough the forest, Sandy walking ahead, the gun of his comradeaccidentally went off and poured its contents into his leg. The bonewas badly splintered, and the muscles so cut and torn, that there wasabsolutely no possibility of his ever being able to walk on it again. 

After I had had quite a chat with him, I asked if he would like to beable to read the Word of God. His bright eyes shone with pleasure, andhis response was so expressive of eager longing, that I at once beganthe first lesson. Sitting beside him on the ground, I drew the syllabiccharacters and spent an hour or so in teaching them to him. He had avery retentive memory, and was intensely anxious to learn as rapidly aspossible. So, every day, when I had finished giving lessons to thecrowd of young and old people, I used to hurry over to the wigwam wherehe lay to give him additional instruction; and so deeply interested washe, that I felt well repaid for my trouble. 

As I was hundreds of miles from home--having come on that long trailwith a couple of Indians in a birch canoe--and had a number of otherpoints at which I wished to stop and do missionary work, I was obligedto bring my visit at this place to an end after a couple of weeks. Butbefore leaving, I had an informal conversation with Murdo, Oowikapun, and some other of the friendly Indians. 

"What a pity it is, " I exclaimed, "that Sandy could not be educated! Ifonly he could be educated enough to be your teacher, what a good thingit would be! For, next to a missionary to live permanently among you, agodly teacher would be the best thing you could have. He will neveragain have the full use of his leg, so will not be able to become agreat hunter; but if he had an education, he might be a blessing to youall!"

Then I bade farewell to these northern Indians who had received me sokindly, and with some parting words, especially urging that the woundedboy should be kindly cared for, I resumed my adventurous journey. 

As we journeyed on from place to place we had plenty of strangeadventures. We shot a fine black bear, and, at our first meal after ourbattle with him, enjoyed picking his ribs. In his capture, I was verymuch interested in watching how human experience was able to overmatchanimal instinct. We had a very narrow escape in some wild andtreacherous rapids, where we lost part of the contents of our canoe andwere all nearly drowned ere we succeeded in reaching the shore. Thisloss was the more keenly felt, as in such an isolated place it isutterly impossible to replenish your store. However, after several suchmishaps, we succeeded in carrying out our programme; and at lengthreached home in safety. 

The long winter, with its seven or eight months of bitter cold, set inshortly after. For a few weeks I was kept busy with home matters andthe affairs of the local mission appointment. As soon, however, as thegreat lakes and rivers were well frozen over and a sufficient fall ofsnow made it possible to begin my winter journeys, I harnessed my dogs, and with my guide and dog-drivers, responded, as far as possible, to themany calls to tell the Story of the Great Book. 

So many were the Macedonian calls from other places that winter, that Idid not make a trip to Nelson River. This I regretted exceedingly, foralthough it was the most distant, it was one of the most promising andencouraging of all the new fields to which I had gone. 

About the middle of the following summer, while enjoying the glories ofa magnificent sunset, I saw a canoe with some Indians in it comingtoward our home. When they had landed, two of them at once came up tome, greeted me most cordially, and before I could fully return theirgreetings, or recall where I had before seen them, exclaimed:

"We remember your good words to us--and we have brought Sandy along. "

"Sandy along! Who is Sandy?" I asked. 

"Why, Sandy Harte--you remember him--the boy who was shot in the leg--the one you used to go and teach; we have brought him along, for weremember your words, so sweet to us, about him. "

"What were my words?" I asked, for I could not at that moment recallthem. 

"Why, your words were: What a pity it is that Sandy is not educated! Ifhe were educated, he might be such a blessing to you all. We have notforgotten it. We have often talked about it. What you said to us andtaught us from the Great Book was so good, we are hungry for more. Weare willing to be taught. You cannot come all the time. We want someone to be with us who knows something; so we have brought Sandy all theway in the canoe to be taught by you; and then, to come back to us, thatwe may learn of him. "

There was no mistake about it. There was Sandy in the middle of thecanoe looking up at me with those brilliant black eyes that had soattracted me in that wigwam far away. 

I went down to the canoe, spoke kindly to the lad, shook his hand, andinvited all the Indians into my house. 

After introducing them to my good wife, I told her Sandy's story; andhow they had remembered my words of a year ago, and had brought him onthis long journey to place him in our care: utterly unable themselves todo anything for his support, I confess, that for the moment, I regrettedhaving been so quick in uttering words which had been so construed, bythese Indians and which had thrown upon our care this wild woundedIndian boy. 

It was the time of the first Riel Rebellion in Manitoba, and although wewere living far north of the actual scene of rebellion, yet our supplieshad in so great a measure been cut off, that we were existing on veryscant rations. Often we averaged no more than two meals a day, andfrequently, when eating breakfast, we did not know from what quarter ourdinner was to come. And now while on the verge of starvation, came thisextraordinary addition to our family, which meant another mouth to feed, and another body to clothe. In our abounding poverty, here indeed was atrial of faith!

After talking the matter over with my brave large-hearted wife, andasking divine direction, the noble woman said:

"The Lord is in it, and He who has sent the mouth to be filled willsurely send all our additional requirements. "

So we cheerfully received Sandy into our home and made him as one of ourfamily. He was in a deplorable condition in more ways than one. Comingfrom a wild band of Indians who were in complete ignorance ofcleanliness and of the habits and requirements of the whites, this poorwounded Indian boy had many things to learn; and at first, on account ofhis ignorance and prejudices, we had many opportunities for the exerciseof patience and forbearance. 

HOW SANDY WAS CONQUERED. 

Like nearly all of the pagan Indians, Sandy had prejudices againstwomen, and it was hard at first to get him to pay any attention to whatthe missionary's wife said. He thought it humiliating and degrading toobey, or even to pay any attention to a woman's request. Yet we bothtreated him with the greatest kindness, and hoped and prayed, that timeand the grace of God would work the changes needed for him. 

He was a bright scholar and made rapid progress in his studies, and in afew months was able to read in his own language. For a time, thenovelty of his new surroundings kept him interested, and he seemed quiteat home. He made many friends among our Christian Indians, who, onlearning of the peculiar way in which he had been thrown upon our hands, became much interested in him. He went to Sunday school, and alsoattended the various services in the church; but for a long time itseemed as though it was only in the spirit of mere idle curiosity, orbecause others did so. 

When the first long winter after his arrival had ended, and thespringtime had come again, Sandy became very homesick and longed to goback to his far-off wigwam abode. The sight of rippling waters andrunning streams was too much for his wild untamed spirit, and he chafedunder the discipline of a civilised home, and became dejected andmiserable. We all noticed his restlessness; but talked kindly to him, and urged him to apply himself to his lessons, that he might the soonerbe able to return to his wild free life in his distant home. ButIndian-like, the more we said to him, the worse he seemed to become, until he made it very uncomfortable for us all. 

One day instead of going to school, he hobbled away on his crutches to apicturesque point of land which jutted far out into the lake. In theevening, the teacher came to the mission house and inquired why Sandyhad not been at school that day. This of course was news to us. Wewere at once much alarmed, and immediately began searching for theabsentee. After about an hour's search, in which quite a number ofIndians took part, Sandy was found curled up among the rocks on thepoint, crying bitterly for his Nelson River home. 

Having exhausted all my persuasive powers, I saw that I must change mystyle of dealing with him. So, appearing to be very indignant, I pickedup a large stick, and, rushing at him, sternly ordered him to get up andreturn to our house as quickly as possible. With a frightened glanceinto my face to see how much I meant, he sprang up and hurried back tothe mission house, I gave him a severe reprimanding, asking him, amongother things if he thought such conduct on his part was a fair returnfor all our kindness to him. Then I said to him sharply:

"Go up to your room and bring down all your torn and soiled clothes andmoccasins. "

With a sad look he obeyed, and soon returned with his bundle. Afterlooking over the lot, I took them away from him; and, calling in anIndian woman, gave her some soap and sewing material, and told her totake all of those things, wash and mend them nicely, bring them back tome, and I would pay her for her trouble. When he saw his clothes goingaway, he was in great perplexity and distress as he was not at all surethat they would be returned to him. The fact was, he had a good deal ofvanity about him in those days, and I made the discovery that he hadbecome very proud of the clothes we had given him in place of thewretched ones in which he had been brought to us. So, the threatenedloss of all he had except what he wore, was to him a dire calamity, Ilet him grieve for some hours, saying but little to him, resolved to puta stop to his nonsense which was only making himself and othersmiserable. 

When the bundle of clean clothing returned, I added to it new pants, shirts, moccasins, a bright handkerchief, and a hat; then, in thekindest way possible, with loving words. I gave him the whole bundle. Poor boy! he was bewildered and amazed. He could not speak his thanks;but his glistening tear dimmed eyes told us that he was cured andconquered. Never did the stern lesson have to be repeated. 

But he was greatly perplexed. It was such different treatment from thatto which he had been accustomed. This combination of sternness andkindness, was to him such a mystery, that he evidently could not stopthinking and wondering about it. So, one day when he had nothing to do, he went over to have a talk on the subject with one of the Indians whowas a sensible Christian man and a great friend of his. 

"I cannot make out our missionary, " said Sandy. "When he came after meto the point where I had hid, he seemed very angry, and took up a bigstick as if to strike me. Indeed, he nearly frightened the life out ofme although he did not once hit me. Then, after ordering me back to thehouse in such a hurry, he made me bring out all my clothes, and gavethem to a woman to carry away. Of course I never expected to see themagain: but I did--they came back clean and mended, and he had added alot more to them. I cannot understand it. The missionary at firstseemed as though he would thrash me, then he turned round and gave meall these good things. "

From the Christian Indian to whom Sandy had gone, we afterward learnedall about this interview. He said he let the lad tell him of hisperplexities, and then gave him a long faithful talk. Here is thesubstance of his reply to Sandy. 

"The missionary and his kind wife have come here to do us good. Theyhave left their friends far away. They were many days on their journeyto this land, and have suffered many hardships. When your friendsbrought you here, they took you into their home and treated you, not asa servant, but as one of their own family. There is not an Indian inthe village but would be glad to change places with you, and to betreated as you have been. If they have food, they share it equally withyou. You have had medicine and bandages for your sore leg. You arewell dressed. They have been like parents to you. Yet you have notbeen grateful. You acted very foolishly. You ran away from school andhid yourself. You made their hearts alarmed for fear some seriousaccident had happened to you. The worst is, you do not obey Ookemasquao(the missionary's wife, ) as you ought. White ladies are to be as muchobeyed and respected as men. Yet in spite of all your foolishness andstubbornness, they have been very patient with you. They kept hoping, that as you grew older you would grow wiser; but you have been gettingso much worse lately, that the missionary has had to deal sternly withyou. He, however, felt sorry for you; his heart was kind toward you allthe time; and so, when you went back, he showed his love to you by hispresents. We all see, that the missionary and his wife have nothing intheir hearts toward you but love. But you must be obedient, and youought to be thankful. They are praying much for you, and hoping thatyou will yet become a good Christian, and at some future time, be agreat blessing to your own people. "

Thus this sensible Christian Indian talked to Sandy, and it was to him arevelation. From that day there was a decided change in him for thebetter. He became obedient and studious, and was ever anxious to dowhat he could in return for the kindnesses shown to him. He was acapital shot, and he and I had some fine bunting and fishing excursionstogether. As his lameness interfered with successful hunting on land, but not with his dexterity in handling the paddle, I purchased for him alight canoe in which he made many short excursions. 

Like all Indian boys, he was very clever with the bow and arrow. Iremember an exhibition, of his quickness and skill that almost amazedme. I had taken him with me on a shooting excursion to a place whichwas called the Old Fort. It was so named from the fact, that many yearsbefore, the Hudson Bay Company had a trading post there for traffic withthe Indians. It had been abandoned for many years, but in its vicinitywere some capital hunting grounds. This spot to which Sandy and I hadgone for ducks, was about twenty miles from our home. We had paddledthat distance in our canoe, and were quite successful in replenishingour larder. While carefully paddling along, we saw a fine large mallardduck swimming quite a distance ahead. When we thought we were withinrange, Sandy, who was in the bow of the canoe, carefully raised his gunand fired. Whether it was owing to the movement of the canoe or not Icannot say; but he missed the duck. Quick as a flash he threw down hisgun, and, catching up his bow and arrow, fired at the duck which ofcourse had instantly risen, and was flying away directly in front of us. Imagine my surprise and delight, to see the arrow wing its way sounerringly, that it pierced the duck, and brought it suddenly down intothe river. 

Thus Sandy not only became a wiser and a better boy, but at times he wasquite helpful in his way, and returned from some hunting excursions withquite a variety of small game which added considerably to our householdbill of fare. We praised him for his skill and industry and veryquickly discovered, that kind loving words were the highest reward whichcould be given him. Poor boy! he had had but few of them in paganism;and now from us, whom he had learned to respect and love, they were aswater to a thirsty soul. 

SANDY'S CONVERSION. 

About a year after this unpleasantness with Sandy, a very graciousrevival began among our Indians, extending far and wide. It was thefruit of years of teaching and preaching by numbers of devotedmissionaries, and of much personal effort to bring the people to adecision for Christianity. I had observed with great joy, that theprayer-meetings and other social religious services, were largelyincreased by the attendance of Indians who had been under religiousinfluences for a long time, but had not yet fully given themselves toChrist. Even among the pagan Indians there was less opposition toChristianity, and a greater willingness to hear the Word than everbefore. At times this spirit showed itself in a way that to most peoplewould have seemed to savour much of selfishness. For example, one day, very early in the morning, the chief came rushing into our missionhouse, and gave utterance to this extraordinary statement:

"Missionary, there are a lot of pagan Indians at the Fort. They are theones you were talking to about becoming Christians. I have just comefrom visiting them, and have been urging them to give up their old way;they said to me, `Tell your missionary, if he will give us one goodsquare meal of potatoes, we will come and hear him preach three times!'"

Doubtless many will smile at this quaint offer--this queer exchange ofcommodities; yet we who were on the ground, and remembered the haughtystubborness of those same Indians only a short time before, were glad tohear thus from them. We promptly accepted the challenge and furnishedthe potatoes. What appetites they had! But they carried out theirshare of the contract, and listened attentively--and smoked--during thethree services. They were always friendly afterward; and, in subsequentyears, a number of them became sincere Christians. It pays to get thetruth into the heart, even if we have to begin by filling the stomachwith potatoes!

So anxious had Sandy become to win our approval, that we knew he waswilling and courageous enough to take any stand we suggested. But wewere so very anxious that his decision for Christ should be built on adeeper, firmer foundation than a mere desire to please us, that, intalking with him, we used no special personal persuasion to bring him toa decision for the Lord Jesus. It was evident to us by his life thatthe Good Spirit was graciously working upon his heart, and that he wasunder deep religious conviction. 

And soon the blessed hour came. One afternoon, while I was urging uponthe large audience who had assembled in the church the privilege andnecessity of immediate decision for Christ, Sandy, with others, sprangup from his seat near the door and came forward for prayer. His firstaudible petition still rings in my ear as though uttered but yesterday:

"O Tapa-yechekayan Kiss-awa-totawenan!" (Oh Lord, have mercy upon me!)

I knelt beside him and pointed him to the dear Saviour--the sinnersFriend. I quoted the sweet promises of the blessed Book, and assuredhim they were for him. He wept, and was deeply anxious for theassurance that even, he had a personal interest in the crucified One. Earnest prayers were offered for him and others, who, like him, wereseeking the Pearl of great price. We talked to him of the love of Godas revealed in Jesus. We tried to explain to him the way of faith--thesimple plan of salvation. That best of all Teachers, that infallibleGuide, the Holy Spirit, applied the truth to his heart; and our dearSandy saw the way, and believed unreservedly in the Lord Jesus. He wasa sweet singer, and had often joined with us in our songs of devotion atour family altar; but now as never before he sang in his own musicallanguage the translation of the verse "My God is reconciled, " etcetera. 

 "Ma' to noo-too-ta-min Ne-pa-tan a-e-sit, Ak-wa a-wa-ko-mit Na-ma-ne-say-ke-sin, Wa-na-tuk-ne-pa-hi-to-tan Abba No-ta a-e-tae-yan. "

Need we add that our Indian boy, so strangely thrown on our care, wasdoubly dear and precious to as from that hour! We had had our longmonths of trouble and anxiety about him, and friends, both white andIndian, had thought, and had told us, that what we were doing for himwas, "love's labour lost. " How thankful we were at this glad hour ofhis clear and beautiful conversion, that we had persevered? We nevercould help feeling that his coming to us was from God, and in spite ofall the discouragements, we had not dared to give up our charge. We hadaccepted it as a trust although it became a trial of patience; yet whenthe clouds cleaved away, we had our exceeding great reward. 

From that day, his presence in our humble mission home was abenediction. He became a very devout and reverent student of the Wordof God; and as its blessed truths opened up before him, he had manyquestions to ask, so that we had many loving talks about the holy Book. Often his heart overflowed with gratitude and thanksgiving to God, andhe would exclaim--

"O missionary, these words are very sweet to my heart!"

To spend hours on his knees with his open Bible before him, was nouncommon thing for Sandy. And when he came down from his upper roomwith his face radiant, he would sometimes exclaim:

"Oh, how blind and stupid I was! I used to think that the white man'sreligion was just like the Indian's, only performed in another way, butnow I know--yes I know it is different: oh so different! For do I notfeel it in my heart, that God is my Father, and His Son is my Saviour, my Elder Brother! Oh yes, I know! I know!"

Then he would burst into song, asking us to join with him, which weoften did gladly; and heaven seemed nearer while we sang. 

Thus, he lived with us as a son in our home. He studied hard, and grewphysically and spiritually. His faith never wavered, and his simpletrust never gave way to doubt. He was a benediction in the schoolroom, and the transformation of a number of wild Indian lads into loving, docile pupils, was the result of his kindly influence over them. 

The long cold winter came and passed away. During it I travelled somethousands of miles on my dog-sleds, or tramped through, the deep snow, day after day, on my snow shoes. Among other places, I visited NelsonRiver, and had the great pleasure of taking down some little gifts fromSandy to his relatives. 

The following summer, I again visited his people and had the joy oftelling them, that he was well and was making rapid progress in hisstudies. Great was their rejoicings at this good news. 

On these trips we had our usual amount of hardships and dangers, and metwith some peculiar adventures. One that very much interested us all, and for a time much excited me, was our discovery of a bear fishing, andour capture of his supplies. He was a fine large black fellow, and hadseated himself on a rock near the shore. Between this rock and theshore rushed a little portion of the great river, in which quite a shoalof white fish seemed to have been spawning. The sharp eyes of the bearhaving detected them, he had resolved to capture a number of them forhis supper. His hand-like paw was all the fishing tackle he needed. Hevery skilfully thrust it low down into the water under the passing fish, and with a sudden movement sent the finny beauty flying through the air, and out upon the not very distant shore. When our canoe appeared arounda bend in the river, his fine sense of hearing detected our approach. At first, he seemed to show fight, and acted as though he would defendhis fish; but a bullet caused him to change his mind about fighting, andhe fled into the forest leaving us to enjoy his splendid fish. Goodfish indeed they were, and quite sufficient for our evening and morningmeals, in spite of the good appetites which such a glorious out-of-doorlife had given us. 

SANDY, A BENEDICTION. 

The next summer after Sandy's conversion, my good wife and I noticed, that for several days he was restless and excited, and, to use an Indianphrase, there was something on his mind. We kindly questioned him as tothe cause of his unrest and mental disquietude, and drew from him, thatit was solely on account of a visit that was soon to be paid him byquite a number of the trip men of his own Nelson River people. Hisanxiety was, that at this the first meeting with his own people since hehad become a Christian, the talk which he was going to give them on thesubject of the good Book and his acceptance of Christianity, might bemade a great blessing to them. 

So many and so valuable were the furs obtained in those days in theNelson River district, that often two brigades of boats were necessaryto bring up the catch of the previous winter. If the missionaries havebeen preaching the Gospel at the different posts where these brigadesare made up, in all probability, part of the people have acceptedChristianity, while others still walk in their own ways. On theirtrips, the Christians naturally travel together, while the pagans, selecting one of their own party as their leader, form a separatebrigade. 

It was known, that the first brigade coming consisted principally ofthose who had as yet refused to renounce their pagan ways. Among themwere some of Sandy's own relatives, and he was intensely anxious, thatthey should no longer continue in their opposition to Christianity, andwhen appealed to on the subject, shrug their shoulders and say:

"As our fathers lived and died, so will we. "

So we found out that the cause of Sandy's restlessness was his greatanxiety to help these, his friends, to know the Christ. 

With glad hearts we cheerfully promised to aid him all we could. Stillhe lingered, and it was evident that something else was on his mind, although he had very warmly expressed his gratitude for our promise ofassistance. We encouraged him to tell us what was still on his heart, so that if possible we might help him. Cheered by our words he said:

"Oh! I know you will help me to tell them of Jesus and His love; butyou know that most of these boatmen are not yet Christians, and they areso blind and stupid. They are just like I was in my ignorance of thisreligion--of the Bible; and my trouble and fear is that when I begin totalk to them of this blessed way, they will get up and leave before Ihave had time to say all that there is in my heart. I am afraid wecannot keep them together unless--unless--"

"Unless what?" I said as he stopped. 

The dear fellow looked up in our faces, and, seeing nothing butencouragement there, mustered up courage to say this that was in hisheart:

"Unless we give them something to eat. "

We had been long enough among the Indians to know that the boy wasright; for often, to win the poor ignorant creatures and bring themwithin sound of the Gospel, had we given them even the food from our owntable, until we ourselves knew what genuine hunger was. Then we couldbetter understand, how difficult it was for poor hungry listeners togive undivided attention to spiritual exhortations on an empty stomach. 

"Of course you shall have a dinner for them, Sandy, " said my brave wife, "and we will do the best we can afford for you and your people. "

His cup of happiness seemed full, as he heard this answer, and as we sawthe clouds flitting away, I said:

"Is this what has been troubling you for days?"

"Yes, " he replied, "what right have I to ask such a favour from you whohave been so kind to me? You let me come into your house when I waswounded, and dark, and wicked; clothed me, and have even treated me asthough I had been your son; and best of all, you have led me up intothis great joy of knowing that I am a child of God. "

Here his eyes filled and he was overcome by deep emotion. Much moved, we waited silently until he had controlled himself, when he continued:

"You know how every day we have together prayed for my people; and whenalone before God I pray for them; they are always in my heart andprayers; and now that I am to have the chance of speaking to them, I dowant it to succeed. You know, that the poor pagan Indian seems betterable, or more willing, somehow, to listen after he has had something toeat. "

So it was settled to Sandy's great delight, that when his friendsarrived from Nelson River they were to be invited to the mission housefor dinner. 

It was a beautiful day when they came. A long table had been made andput up on the grassy lawn in front of the house, and a good substantialmeal had been prepared. Fortunately, our supply boat had arrived fromRed River, and some Indian hunters had brought in abundance of game, sothat we had enough and to spare, even for a crowd of Indians. 

Sandy was full of bliss. To watch him, and to observe how interestedhis people were in him, gave us great delight. 

He seated his Indian friends to suit his own mind, for his thoughts weremore on the after service than on the substantial meal before them. When all were in their assigned places, he said:

"Now, wait a minute. From the Great Spirit we receive all ourblessings; so shut your eyes while I thank Him and ask His blessing uponus. "

They obeyed readily: for was he not the son of a chief, and taught ofthe missionary? They did not know what "Amen" meant, so, after Sandyhad said it, still kept their eyes shut, and had to be told to open themand begin at their dinners. 

They had a good time together. There was nothing rude or awkward in anyof their actions, and a stranger looking on, would never have imaginedthat the majority of these polite, courteous, yet picturesquely garbedbronzed stalwart men, had never before sat at a table or eaten withforks. These latter are considered superfluous in the Indian country. Give an Indian a good knife and a horn or wooden spoon--and what careshe for a fork? His only concern is in reference to the supply of food. But on this occasion we had placed forks at each place, and after thosewho had never seen them before had observed how one familiar with themused his, they all quickly imitated him and did exceedingly well. 

What appetites they had! It was a pleasure to see how they enjoyedtheir dinner--especially as we knew that we had enough for all. 

SANDY, A MISSIONARY. 

When dinner was ended, and they were about to rise from the table, a fewwords from Sandy caused them all to remain quietly seated. Now weperceived, why he had arranged them at the table as he did. Every onewas so seated that he could easily see, as well as hear. It was evidentthat they were all very much interested, and full of curiosity to hearthe message he had for them. 

They were doubtless well aware, that such a feast as had been preparedfor them meant a talk at the close; but none of them ever dreamed thatSandy--"their Sandy"--was to be the principal speaker. When at theclose he so naturally and ably took control, they were at first amazed, and then delighted, that one of their own people--and a young man atthat--was not only able to do such a thing, but was encouraged in theundertaking by the missionary and his wife. 

Fearing that our presence might embarrass Sandy, my wife and I moved ourchairs back a little behind him, but still near enough to hear all thatwas said. We were intensely interested in the proceedings, and liftedup our hearts to God that divine help and guidance might be given to theone whom we now loved to call "our Sandy. "

A little nervousness that was at first noticeable, disappeared after afew sentences, and then, with a fluency and eloquence that simply amazedus, the loving burning words flowed from his lips. With few words ofexplanation he took up his beloved Bible and hymn-book, and began theservice. 

Of the actual words of that address, I can now recall very few; but thememory of it will live forever. He told them the story of his life fromthe time when, having found my way to their distant land, I met him inhis wigwam home as he lay wounded upon the ground, talked kindly to him, and gave him his first lesson. He spoke of his long, long journey inthe canoe, and of his arrival at our home. He described how kindly hehad been received, how stupidly and ungratefully he had acted when thenovelty of the new way of living had worn off, and how he had been sofoolish as to long for his old life in the wigwam. He denounced in veryemphatic language, his own ingratitude toward us for all the kindness wehad shown him and the patience with which we had borne with hisstupidity. 

Then he told the story of his conversion: would that I could tell it ashe did! He contrasted their old foolish religion of the conjurers--which had only kept them in fear and terror all their days, bringing nopeace or rest to their souls--with that which was taught in the blessedBook; which had come as a great joy into his life, filling him withpeace in the assurance that even he was a child of God. He had his datein his spiritual life--his well remembered birthday; and to it hereferred. He told of that afternoon in the church, when, in response tothe invitation: "Who will give his heart to God to-day?" he hadanswered, "I will!" and bowing down before God in prayer, had sought forthe forgiveness of his sins and the assurance of the divine favour. Very clearly, and with much emotion he assured them that, while trustingand believing that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was able and willing toreceive him, He had indeed received him. 

Thus in earnest tones, in his beautiful Indian tongue, he went on andon; now, urging and exhorting them to accept of this great salvationfrom the Great Spirit who was the loving Father of all, and who desiredthe salvation of every one of His children whether they were white orIndian; and then, again referring to his own conversion and the joy thathad come to him, as one reason why he wished them all to be Christians. 

Mrs Young and I were delighted and also amazed; not only at hisreadiness of utterance, but at the religious character and power of theaddress. I could only say in my heart:

"This is the outcome of those long hours which this young child of Godhas spent day after day with the open Book before him and the HolySpirit as his teacher; and, thank God, here is the glorious reward forall we have had to do for, and bear with this wild unkempt Indian lad. In this one glad hour we see enough amply to repay us for all we havehad to put up with ere there was the first appreciation of our kindness. It has seemed a long time between the seed sowing and the reaping; butthe harvest time has come at last and here we witness this glorioussight--Sandy, our once wild rebellious Indian boy, now with radiant faceand eloquent tongue, in most beautiful and scriptural language, urgingand beseeching his Indian friends to renounce their old foolish paganismand to accept of Christianity. "

As he talked the faces of his Indian auditors were indeed studies. Theywere literally drinking in his marvellous words. To a few of them I hadpreached on some of my long journeys; but beside these few, there werethose now listening to Sandy who had never heard such things before, andthey seemed amazed and confounded. Persons who have never witnessed it, can hardly imagine the astonishment, and sometimes awe, that fails overa company of pure pagans, when, for the first time, the story ofRedeeming Love is heard. 

Sandy went on to tell them of his love and anxiety for them, and of hisdesire and constant prayers that they should all become Christians, andknow for themselves that God loved them and that they were His children. He explained to them, how, at first, he thought the Bible was only forthe white man; but that he had learned, that the Great Spirit has givenHis Book to all races, loving all alike. This was the reason he was soanxious that his own people should accept this great salvation which wasfor them. It would make them happy, as it was making others everywherewho fully accepted it. 

They listened to the end of his long address with intense interest. Inresponse to his request, a number of questions were asked in referenceto this new way, and how it was possible for them to enter into it. Hisanswers were very appropriate and beautiful. In addition to his ownwords, he again opened his Bible and read promise after promise to them, to show the universality of the love of God, and that he had given hisSon to die for them all, and what they must do to receive this love intotheir hearts. 

At his request, I followed with a short address, endorsing what he hadsaid. I lovingly entreated them to remember his words, and to do as hehad done--give their hearts to God; and thus become His happy, lovingchildren. A hymn was sung; earnest prayers were offered up; thebenediction was pronounced--and this remarkable service came to an end. 

Ere they departed they gathered around Sandy and kissed him. They askedhim more questions about this new way, and with some of them he hadearnest faithful talks. They all came and shook hands with us, and verykindly thanked us for our great love and kindness to their Ookemasis, --the young chief, --as they now laughingly called Sandy. 

After remaining with us some years, Sandy returned to his own land andpeople. Among them he still lives a devoted, industrious Christian. Heis the right-hand man of the missionary, a blessing and a benediction tomany, and we count it as one of our "chief joys" that we wereinstrumental in leading him into the light. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

THE NEW YEAR'S INDIAN FEAST. 

From time immemorial the Indians have been noted for the number of theirfeasts. Some of these--as the New Moon and the First-Fruits of thecorn, celebrated, by a part of the tribes--were generally innocent, seeming to point to some Jewish origin in the dim past; others--such asthe feast of the dogs when the poor animals were wantonly torn topieces--were loathsome in the extreme. 

As soon as the missionaries succeeded in getting the red men to listento the Gospel, they insisted upon the suppression of the sinful feasts;especially as they were more or less associated with their ideas ofworship. Even the dog feast was considered "good medicine" topropitiate the evil spirits: for the dogs were prized by the Indian nextto his children, and sacrificing them was making a very great offering. 

When the missionaries went among the Northern Wood Crees, they met witha great degree of success in winning the people from their pagansuperstitions. They, of course, insisted upon the entire giving up ofall the objectionable habits and customs of their past life; and amongthem, their sinful feasts. However, they did not try to root the wordout of their language; but as a substitute for what was so wrong, organised a Christian festival. This great feast was celebrated on NewYear's day--unless that day happened to fall on Sunday, when it was heldon the day following--at Norway House, the largest mission station inthose days. 

Preparations for it were begun many months in advance. A great Indiancouncil would be held at which, as a mere formality, the question wouldbe first asked: "Are we to have the great feast this year?"

This would be carried unanimously, and--for Indians--with greatapplause. The next question which required more time for answeringwould be: "What is each man prepared to give as his contribution towardthe feast?"

Very strange at first seemed the answers. Mamanowatum, a big Indianmoose-hunter, would say:

"I have discovered the trail of a moose. I will give half of theanimal--and his nose. "

The moose nose is considered a great delicacy. Moose meat is the bestof all venison; and Mamanowatum was a most successful hunter. So thissplendid contribution, although the moose had yet to be shot, and washard to kill, would be recorded with great pleasure. 

Then Soquatum would say; "I have discovered a bear's den. I will givehalf the bear to the feast--and all the paws. "

This generous contribution would also meet with much approval, for thebeat's paws are likewise among the great delicacies of the country. 

Mustagan would speak next, and would say; "I know where there is a largebeaver house, and I will give five beavers--and ten tails. "

This donation would also meet with great satisfaction, as beavers arecapital eating, and their great broad tails, together with the moose'snose and the bear's paws, constitute the principal delicacies of thecountry. 

Rapidly would the hunters rise up one after another and proffer theirgifts, keeping the Indian secretary busily employed in writing down insyllabic characters, the various promised offerings of game, the greaterquantity of which would be still roaming--perhaps hundreds of milesaway--in the wintry forest. 

Those among the hunters who excelled in catching the valuablefur-bearing animals, whose flesh is worthless for food, would make theircontribution in rich furs, such as minks, martins, otters and ermines, which would be exchanged in the Hudson Bay Company's stores for flour, tea, sugar and plums. 

The council would last until all who could give, or had any remote ideaof success, had recorded their contributions. 

Shortly after would begin the work of securing the promised offeringsfor the feast. Even the successful ones did not always bring in whatthey had promised. Sometimes those who had promised beaver, would be sofortunate as to meet with a herd of reindeer, and thus would return withtheir contribution in venison, perhaps four times in excess of thebeaver promised. Or perhaps the man who promised a couple of wildcats--and they are not bad eating--while out diligently searching for them, would detect the tiny ascending thread of vapoury steam from a greatsnowdrift, which told him, that low down there in a den were sleepingsome fat hears. These would be dug out, and killed, and part of themeat would be brought in to the feast. Again it sometimes happened--ashunter's luck is very uncertain--that some who promised a largecontribution were not able to bring so much. However, with thedonations from the fur-traders and the mission house, there would be alarge supply: and this was necessary, as Indians have good appetites. 

As the different kinds of animals were shot or captured, the meat wouldbe brought to the mission, and well secured from cunning dogs in thelarge fish-house; where it would freeze solid, and so keep in goodcondition until required. About a week before the day of the feast, themissionary's wife would call to her assistance a small number of cleverIndian women; and, aided by some men who would cut the frozen meat intopieces of suitable size, they would roast or boil the whole of thisgreat assortment. It was an "assortment, " and proudly would they lookat it, and rejoice. Out of the flour, plums, sugar and bear's grease--asubstitute for suet--great plum-puddings would be made, hard and solid;but the chunks cut off with an axe, gave much satisfaction to the heartyeaters. 

When the day arrived, preparations for the feast began very early. Theseats were removed from the church, and tables the whole length of theinterior, were quickly made and put in position by the nativecarpenters. Great roaring fires were built in the two iron stoves, andthe inside temperature of the building made as nearly tropical aspossible; while outside it was fifty degrees below zero, or even colder. This intense heat was necessary to thaw out the meat, which, after ithad been cooked a day or two before, had quickly cooled and frozensolid. The great supply was soon carried into the hot church, and afterthe few hours that elapsed before the feast began, it was in capitalcondition for the twelve or fifteen hundred hungry Indian who for weekshad been eagerly looking forward to this great event. 

They were a motley company, all welcome, and all in the best of humour. Chiefs and head men were receiving directions from the missionary, transmitting them to the workers, and seeing that everything was done. Happy busy women, under the loving guidance of the missionary's wife, whom they simply idolised, were arranging the tables, for the equipmentof which, all the table necessaries of the village, --principally tincups and plates, --as well as of the mission pantry, were brought intoservice. Great boilers and kettles of tea were brewed, and hundreds offlat cakes, made of flour, water and a little salt, were baked in fryingpans or on top of the stoves, cut into large pieces, and made ready fordistribution. 

While busy hands were thus employed in making these final arrangementsfor the great feast, which generally began about one o'clock, thehundreds of other Indians--especially the young men--were having varioussports outside. The toboggan slides of the schoolboys had manyvisitors; and some lively games of football were played on the frozenlake. The snow had been scraped away from a smooth hit of ice where theactive skaters showed their speed and skill. But the thoughts of allwere on the feast, and they were anxious for the sound of the bell thatwould summon them to its enjoyment. 

About the middle of the forenoon, there was a most interesting break inthe preparations. The chief would go to the missionary and ask for apencil and piece of writing paper. Then, taking with him one of theprincipal men into the church, where the crowd of workers were busilyengaged, he would call for a short halt in the proceedings, and standingon a bench, ask:

"How many of our people are sick, or aged, or wounded, and are thusunable to be with us at the great feast to-day? Give me their names. "

As the names were mentioned, they would be recorded; until, perhaps, twenty or more were thus called out. 

"Any more?" the chief would cry. "Let none be overlooked on this happyday. "

"Oh yes, there is an old bed-ridden woman, lying on her couch of rabbitskins and balsam boughs, in a wigwam six miles up Jack River, " says one. 

"I heard, that there are two sick people left behind in a wigwam on theisland over near York village by the pagan Indians who have come to thefeast, " says another. 

"Put them down, of course. But stop! One of you go out and ask thosewho have come, if there are not more than those two left behind. "

Soon word comes in that there are not only these two sick ones, but alittle girl with a broken leg. 

"Put her name down, too. "

The list is again read over, and the question again asked:

"Are you sure that we have not overlooked any? It would be a shame forus to be here feasting and any of our aged and afflicted onesforgotten. "

The matter would be discussed until they were confident that all thenames were recorded, even the afflicted ones of the still unconvertedIndians who were always welcomed and generally on hand. Then the chief, with an assistant or two would go to the great piles of food, and cutoff generous pieces of venison and bear's meat, and, with an assortmentof other things, make up as many large parcels as there were names onhis list, each bundle, perhaps, containing enough food to last theafflicted ones a couple of days. Then the chief would go out to wherethe sturdy active young men were at their sports, and shouting the namesof as many as he had bundles, give to the fleetest a large bundle andsay:

"Take that to Ookoominou, who Is sick in bed six miles up the river, andtell her that we are all sorry that she is so old and feeble that shecannot be with us to-day. With it give her our Christian greetings andlove, and our wishes that she will enjoy her share of the feast. "

With a look to see that the strings of his moccasins and his beadedgarters are well tied, and tightening his sash belt around his leathernshirt, the swift runner would be off like an arrow; making straight forthe far away wigwam, where, in age and feebleness, is one of thegrandmothers of the tribe, now loved by all; but who would have been putto death years ago, if the blessed Gospel had not come among this peopleand wrought its marvellous transformations in their hearts. Six mileswould that fleet Indian runner have to go, and return, ere he could havehis share of the feast; but never fear, he will be back in time. Whatare twelve miles to him, when there is such a feast at the end of it?And then, is he not a Christian? And does he not consider it a joy tobe the carrier of such a bundle, with such a loving message, to the agedand feeble Ookoominou? Of course he does. 

Others similarly addressed, and charged with loving messages, arerapidly sent off. While the majority of the messengers prefer to makethe journey on flying feet, some, perhaps who have bundles for three orfour in the same vicinity, prefer to take their fleet dog-trains. Itmakes but little difference, however, how they go. They are soon alloff, and much sooner back again than we inexperienced ones would expect. 

Of the great feast itself, it is difficult to give anything like anadequate description. The tables are piled with the various kinds offood, the cups are filled with tea, and all the older people firstseated. Some years it was customary for the missionary to have a largetable at the head, to which were invited the officials of the Hudson BayCompany and their families, and any visiting friends who might be in thecountry. The chiefs were also given a place at this table, an honourmuch appreciated. When all were seated, they very heartily sang asgrace before meat, the Cree translation of the Verse:

 "Be present at our table, Lord, Be here and everywhere adored; These creatures bless, and grant that we May feast in Paradise with Thee. "

When the older people had eaten, the tables were quickly cleared; thenagain filled and refilled, until all had feasted, and some had evenreturned "to fill up, " as they said, some vacancies discovered. Whatappetites they had; and what unrestrained enjoyment! No forebodingfears of coming nightmare, or fits of indigestion, disturbed theirfelicity. Dyspepsia and its kindred ills, had, up to those times, nevervisited that healthy hunting people; and so, when such a feast of fatthings as this was prepared, where they knew they were all welcomeguests, they went in for a good time and had it in full measure, withoutany anxiety for after consequences. It was an epoch in their history--the most blessed day of the year. From it some of them recorded time, as so many moons after the feast; and as the year advanced they madeengagements by so many moons before the next feast. 

If supplies were still abundant when the last had eaten, the first wereset to work again until the bear's ribs were all picked and every haunchof venison had disappeared. Night was grandly closing in, ere thisstage in the proceedings was reached. When it did arrive, willing handssoon took down the tables, swept out the building, replaced the seats, lighted the oil lamps, and the intellectual feast was held. For yearsMamanowatum, whose familiar name was Big Tom, was appointed chairman. He was a large man, in fact, almost gigantic, slow and deliberate; buthe generally made his mark in everything he undertook to do or say. Itwas amusing to see him in the chair, presiding over a great meeting. Hewas very much respected by all, and none dared to presume on hisapparent good nature. He rose slowly, seeming to get up in short jerks;but when up, he had something to say and said it. 

They always opened every kind of a meeting held in the church withreligious exercises. Then Mamanowatum made his address, always good andsuggestive, the keynote of which was thanksgiving and gratitude to Godfor the blessings of the year. When he had finished, he called ondifferent Indians for addresses. Some of them were very good also. This is the night of all others, when Indian orators try to be humorousand witty. As a race they do not excel along these lines, but sometimesthey get off some very good things. While they began their speecheswith some bright pleasantry that brought smiles, and even laughter, there was never anything unbecoming to the place, and all quicklydrifted into a strain of thanksgiving to God for his blessings. Tolisten to their grateful joyous words, one would think they were themost highly favoured people on the earth; that there never was such afeast, such delicious venison, such fat bear meat, such strong tea withso much sugar in it; and that no other people had such kindmissionaries. So with more grateful hearts than ever they would sing:

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow. "

Thus they talked and rejoiced together in this peculiar service whichwas all their own. The whites were expected to take back seats on thisoccasion and say nothing. 

About ten o'clock they together sang the doxology; and, with thebenediction, pronounced by one of their own number, this mostinteresting of days, with its varied pleasures and enjoyments, came to aclose. 

Long years have passed, since with the happy Crees we enjoyed those richfeast days; yet they stand in our missionary life as red-letter days;when our hearts were especially touched by the spontaneous and heartykindness displayed toward the aged and afflicted ones, who unable to bepresent, were by the generous gifts sent, made to feel, that they werenot forgotten or neglected, but were in a large measure made partakersof the pleasures of that eventful day. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

THE EXTRA DOG-TRAIN OF SUPPLIES, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 

"As you have so many splendid dogs this winter, why not take an extratrain with you, and bring out from Red River some of the food ofcivilisation, so that we can have it to remind us of other days?"

Thus spake the good wife, who, like myself, sometimes became tired ofhaving the fresh water fish of the country as our principal diet forabout one half of the year. During the other six months we livedprincipally upon game, such as venison, bear's meat, beaver, wild-cat, ptarmigan, rabbits and even muskrats. So, this request to bring outsomething to eat that savoured of civilisation, was not an unreasonableone. I was going in to Red River settlement on business pertaining tothe spiritual advancement of our mission, and this was a goodopportunity to bring out with me some things that would add to ourcomfort and help on in the good work; we had to do so many things forour poor Indians, who were often in trouble, and were constantly lookingto us for help. 

My splendid dugs obtained from Hamilton, Montreal and elsewhere, hadincreased and multiplied, until now I had a number of the finest sleighdogs in the country. When the time came for the long trip, I harnessedthem up; and, taking an additional train for the extra supply of foodwhich was suggested by my wife, with my guide and dog drivers, began thejourney. In order that we could return with full loads, we started withour sleds loaded with fish, numbers of which we cached at our differentcamping places, that we might have them on which to feed our dogs on thereturn journey. 

We were several days on the route, as we encountered a fierce blizzardwhich made travelling with our heavy loads very difficult. However, wereached the settlement, and met with a warm welcome at the home of ourfriend, the Hon. Mr Sifton. The business that brought us in tocivilisation being soon arranged, we began our purchases of supplies forthe return, special attention being given to the purchase of the extraload of good things. First, I went to a butcher, and purchased from himabout two hundred and fifty pounds of his choicest cuts of meat; tellinghim, that as it was to be dragged by dogs on a sled some hundreds ofmiles, I wanted as little bone as possible. He was a decent man andtreated me well. Then, I went to a storekeeper, and purchased from himrice, meal, butter, canned vegetables and various other things, makingin all, a load of about six hundred pounds. I was very proud of such aload, in addition to the supply of flour which was on the other sleds. Sending my heavily loaded dog-sleds on a couple of days in advance, Ifollowed--in company with Martin Papanekis, a favourite Indian driver--with such dogs as. Voyageur, as leader, and Jack and Cuffy and Caesarbehind him, knowing we would have no difficulty in overtaking the restof our party. We so arranged our return journey, that each night wereached the camp we had used on the outgoing trip. In two places, muchto our disgust, we found that the wolves or wolverines, had been tooclever for us, and had discovered our cache and devoured our fish. Sothose nights, we had to feed our dogs from the supplies of meat boughtin Red River. 

In due time we reached our mission home where there was greatsatisfaction over the abundance and variety of the supplies secured atsuch a cost of toil and danger. The bill of fare was much improved, andtwice a week we had a little roast of beef or mutton, with vegetables, and a dessert of rice pudding. 

For two or three weeks this continued, when our hearts were saddened, and our duties and cares greatly increased, by the breaking out of themeasles among our Indians. This epidemic was caused, by the coming into our country of some free-traders who had lately had the disease. They had been discharged from the hospital as cured; but in some way orother they had carried the germs of the disease so that going in and outof the wigwams they spread the contagion among the natives, and anepidemic broke out. This strange new disease terrified the people. 

At that time I had parties of Indians at Oomeme River, and also atBerens River, where we were then living. About this same time themeasles also broke out among a number of pagan Indians under the rule ofThickfoot, a stubborn yet friendly old chief who refused to become aChristian. At this place we had but lately completed a mission house, some outbuildings, and a comfortable school-house, which we were usingas a church until the latter should be completed. All the timber forthese buildings we had drawn with our dogs from a large island severalmiles out from, the mainland. When the measles broke out, and we sawthe fear of the Indians, at once, as far as possible, we turned ourmission premises into a hospital. In addition to the buildings alreadymentioned, we also put up for the sick our large buffalo leather tent. Here, on improvised beds and couches, we gathered about us the afflictedones, making them as comfortable as our limited means would allow. 

Over at Oomeme River, our Christian Indians fortunately escaped; but thepagan Indians, among whom the disease broke out, were wild with fear, and in many cases acted in a manner to aggravate the disease. Some ofthem, when they broke out, rushed from their heated wigwams and rolledthemselves in the snow, which of course was most disastrous treatment, resulting in the death of numbers. Thereupon, their relatives became soterrified, that, being afraid to bury their bodies, they stripped thewigwams from around them, leaving them exposed to the devouring wolves;and then, sent word over to me, that if I desired their friends to bedecently buried, I must come over and do it myself. Hearing this, Itook some boards, nails, hammer, spades and other things necessary, andwith some Indians, hurried over to the place. After some persuasion, Isucceeded in getting an Indian family to move their wigwam from the spotwhere it had stood the whole winter, and where constantly the fire hadbeen burning; and there, where the ground was yet warm and unfrozen, dugthe grave, making it sufficiently large for all who had died. With ourboards we made the coffins, and after a simple religious service buriedtheir dead. 

At Berens River, our method of procedure among our sick was somethinglike this. Early in the morning, large pots partly filled with waterwere hung over a good fire. Into them were put several pounds of thegood fresh beef or mutton which we had brought from civilisation. Whenwell boiled, several pounds of rice were stirred in and the whole leftto boil until cooked into a rich nourishing soup. Then nourishing flatcakes were made in abundance. While this breakfast for the sick wasbeing prepared, the missionary, with his assistants, was busily engagedin making the rounds of the sick. Their various wants were attended to, medicine was given, and every thing that could be, was cheerfully donefor their comfort. Then, the missionary's wife, with her helpers, followed with kettles of warm soup, bread and tea. Meals of thisnourishing food were given to, and much relished by, the afflicted ones. There were some such severe cases, that at times it looked as though itwould be impossible to save them; but with heaven's blessing on ourefforts, we were successful in bringing about the recovery of every caseunder our immediate care. While doing everything that we could fortheir physical recovery, we had grand opportunities for impartingreligious instruction. Sweet hymns, translated into their own language, were sung, and the exceeding great and precious promises of the blessedBook, were often read and explained at every bedside. Their fear ofthis strange new disease left them, and they became patient and hopeful. The result was, that while among the pagan Indians at Oomeme Riverthere were many deaths, not one of our Christian Indians died. 

When the last case was cured and the disease had disappeared, we tookstock of our supplies. We found that all of that extra dog-train offood, together with a large quantity of flour and other things, had beenused up in feeding our poor sick people. Not one-tenth of the whole hadcome to our own table; and so we had once again to fall back upon ournative food. Fish was again our diet twenty-one times a week. But, wehad the great joy and satisfaction of knowing that, in all humanprobability, we had saved the lives of many of our people; and had foundsuch a place in their hearts, that our future efforts to evangelise orto help along in the blessed life, would be very much more effective. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A LESSON NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN. 

When I was a small boy, my father was stationed on a large mission inthe back woods of Canada. The hardy emigrants from the Old World werecrowding into that new country, and every year additional thousands ofacres of grain were growing, where shortly before the dark primevalforests, which had stood for centuries, held possession. 

The native Indian tribes were retreating before this irresistible marchof the white man, or were settling on reservations selected for them bythe government. For years they retained their right to roam about, andkill the game which still abounded, but which was rapidly becoming lessas the white settlements increased. In addition to their hunting andfishing, the industrious Indians added to their comfort by manufacturingnative baskets, brooms, handles for axes, hoes and similar articles, which they sold to the friendly settlers for food and clothing. Thosethat left the fire-water alone, and were industrious, were thus able tolive comfortably. 

To these Indians on their reservations the Gospel was proclaimed by theself-sacrificing missionaries, as they travelled their toilsome rounds. These visits were not made in vain. Many of these children of theforest, sick and dissatisfied with their old paganism which gave nopeace to their troubled spirits, gladly received the truth, and becameearnest, consistent Christians. Their godly lives were, in many places, a constant reproof to the inconsistencies and sins of their whiteneighbours. At rare intervals in my boyhood days it was my greatprivilege to be permitted to accompany my father to some of the Indianencampments that were not very far from our home, I well remember thesweet plaintive voices of the Indians, as they sung some of our hymnswhich had been translated into their language. Their devout andattentive demeanour during the religious services, deeply impressed me. It was ever a great pleasure to visit them in their wigwams, to see theyoung people at their sports, and the older ones at their work: buildingcanoes, or making baskets. 

In my boyish curiosity, I did not confine my rambling solely to theChristian Indians; but, as all were very friendly, I wandered about theencampments to the different wigwams, to see what I could that was noveland interesting. Being known as the son of the Blackcoat--for in thisway was the missionary designated by the tribe--I was always welcomed inthe wigwams, and was given a seat in the circle around the fire. 

In one wigwam the following characteristic incident occurred which madea deep impression on my mind. Seated on the ground were representativesof three generations, all, except the aged grandfather, busily engagedin work, principally basket-making. He was a patriarchal-looking oldman, and, to my youthful eyes as he sat there on his blanket smoking hislong pipe, seemed to be absorbed in thought, noticing neither me nor anyone else. 

The youngest of the company, and the one that naturally attracted myattention, was a young lad of about my own age. He was busily engagedwith an Indian crooked knife, endeavouring to make an arrow. In hiseagerness to succeed, he let his knife slip, and unfortunately, cuthimself very badly. At the sight of the blood, --which flowed freely, for the wound was an ugly one--the lad set up a howl of pain and alarm, which greatly startled his stoical relatives. Relief was quicklyafforded, the cut covered with balsam and tied up in a piece of deerskin. Not one word of sympathy did the boy receive; but on the contraryfrom nearly all in the wigwam arose a chorus of indignation and disgust. To them it was a great disgrace that one of their family, and he a boyof so many winters, should howl and cry like that, for such a triflinginjury. 

How the other families would laugh at them when they heard of it! Itlooked for a time as if they would severely punish him, not for hisawkwardness in handling his knife, but because he did not control hisfeelings and treat the wound and the pain with utter indifference. 

The old grandfather especially, was deeply stirred and indignant atconduct so unworthy of his grandson, to whom evidently he was deeplyattached. 

Indians very seldom punish their children. Upon the boys especially, the rod is seldom used. The girls in the heathen families often have ahard time of it, being frequently knocked about and beaten; but the boysgenerally escape, even if they richly deserve punishment. Here, however, was a very serious case. The boy had committed a crime incrying out at an ordinary cut on his hand, inflicted by himself. Itwould never do to let this pass. The lad must be taught a lesson hewould never forget. And this is the way in which it was done, much tomy amazement, by his old grandfather. 

Placing near him the lad, who evidently was now feeling that he had beenvery guilty, he gave him a talk upon the duty of bearing pain withoututtering a cry, or even a groan. Then the old man, who had been a greatwarrior in his younger days, told him, that unless he were morecourageous than that, he would never become a brave warrior or a goodhunter; and, that unless he was able to control his feelings, and nevercry out no matter what happened, they could never respect him any morethan they would an old grandmother. 

While the old man talked excitedly to him, now thoroughly roused out ofhis usual calm demeanour, he renewed the fire which had partly burntdown. When, by the addition of some very dry wood, it was burning veryvigorously, he again turned quickly to his grandson, and speaking outsharply and excitedly, said: "See here! Look at me! This is the way abrave warrior should stand pain!" Then, to my horror, he suddenlyreached out his hand, and holding one finger in the flame, kept it thereuntil it was fearfully burnt. 

During this sickening ordeal, not a muscle of the old man's facequivered; not a groan escaped from his firmly set lips. To judge fromhis appearance, it might have been a stick that he was burning. When atlength he drew back the crisp burnt finger of his now blistered hand, heheld it toward his grandson and gave him another lecture, telling himamong other things that if he ever expected to be great or honouredamong his people, he must hear pain without flinching or uttering a cry. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

THE HONEST INDIAN; OR, VENISON FOR PEMMICAN. 

Years ago the missionaries living in the northern part of what were thenknown as the Hudson Bay territories, were often so remote fromcivilisation, that they were obliged to depend principally on fish andgame for their livelihood. Hence, in times of scarcity, they welcomedthe arrival of a hunter who came in with plenty of game. 

One cold wintry day, a man of this description made his appearance atour mission home. He was a fine stalwart Indian, and, in the quiet wayof his people, came into our kitchen without knocking. Unstrapping fromhis back a fine haunch of venison, he threw it down upon the table. Asour supplies of food were very limited at the time--for we wereaveraging hardly more than two good meals a day--I was glad to see thiswelcome addition; and so, after I had cordially greeted him, I said:

"What shall I give you for this venison?"

"I want nothing for it, as it belongs to you, " was his answer. 

"You must be mistaken, " I replied, "as I never saw you before, and havehad no dealings with you. "

"Oh, but it does belong to you, and I want nothing more for it, " heinsisted. 

"Excuse me, " I said, "but you _must_ let me pay you for it. We are veryglad to get it, as there is little food in the house; but we have a rulehere, that we pay the Indians for everything we get from them. "

The reason we had come to this determination, was because we had foundby rather dear experience, --as we presume other missionaries on similarfields have, --that the natives have an idea the missionary is rich, orthat he is backed up by wealthy churches; and, with unlimited resourcesat his disposal, is able to make large gifts in return for lesser onesreceived. A few rabbits, or a brace of ducks would be given with greatpoliteness to the missionary or his wife. Then the donor, oftenaccompanied by his wife and several children, would remain to dinner, and, in all probability, eat the greater part of the gift. Of coursethey must be asked to supper--and they had glorious appetites. As theystill lingered on until time for retiring arrived, the missionary was atlength obliged to hint, that he thought they would better go and see iftheir wigwam was where they left it in the morning. This wouldgenerally bring things to a crisis, and the man would say: "Ever sincewe came we have only been waiting to get the present you are going togive us for the one we gave you. "

While they were contented to sell at a reasonable rate the variousthings which they could supply for our needs, yet, if a present wereaccepted, they expected something many times its value. Had this beenallowed to continue, we would have been speedily left destitute ofeverything in the house. Therefore, not many weeks before the arrivalof this strange Indian with the venison, as a precautionary measure wehad made a rule that no more presents were to be received from theIndians; but that for everything brought which we needed, such as meat, fish, or moccasins, there was to be a fair tariff price mutually agreedupon. Yet in spite of all this, here was a stalwart Indian insisting, that I should receive a haunch of venison without payment. Judging fromsome past experiences, I was fearful that if I accepted it as a present, it would about bankrupt me. So I again said to him:

"You must let me pay you for this. "

"No, no, " he energetically replied. "I take no pay. It belongs toyou. "

"How do you make that out?" I inquired, more perplexed than ever. 

Then he proceeded to give me his explanation, which deeply interestedme, and which will also I am sure interest my readers. 

First, he began by asking me a few questions:

"Did you make a trip with your guide and dog drivers to Burntwood Riverlast winter?"

"Yes, I did, " was my answer. 

"And were your dog-sleds not heavily loaded?"

"Yes, " I replied. 

"And was there not a heavy fall of snow followed by a blizzard, which asyou had no trail through the deep snow, made it very difficulttravelling?"

"Quite true, " I replied, for all had happened just as he was describingit. "And did you not at a certain place make a cache of some of yourpemmican and other heavy things, so as to lighten your loads, that yourdogs might make better time?"

"Yes, " I answered, for well did I remember that long journey, and thefearful storm which made travelling through the trackless forest almostimpossible. 

I had gone on a journey of several hundreds of miles to carry the Gospelto some Indians who were still in the darkness of paganism. I travelledwith sixteen dogs and four Indian companions, and there was not theleast vestige of a road. This is the one great drawback; and any partyof hunters, traders, or missionaries, wishing to travel with anyrapidity, must send one of their number on ahead of the dog trains tomark out the path with his great snow shoes as he strides along. Theskill and endurance with which this work is performed, is marvellous andalmost incredible to those who have not witnessed it. Often the countryfor days together is tamely monotonous, without any striking feature inthe landscape, and without the least sign of human footsteps. Cloudsmay gather and cover the whole heavens with a sombre grey mantle, sothat the white man gets bewildered and does not know south from north, or east from west. Yet the Indian guide pushes on without hesitancy, and with unerring accuracy. 

While endeavouring to push on as rapidly as possible, we were assailedby a fierce storm. The snowfall was so great, that, with our heavyloads, speedy progress was an utter impossibility. We found, that wemust either lighten our loads, or be content to lose much valuable timeon the way. After talking it over with my Indians, we decided on theformer course, and so, a "cache" was made. A number of the heavierarticles were tied up in large blankets, some saplings bent down by thestalwart men, and the bundles fastened in their tops. When let go, theyoung trees sprang up, and thus held their loads so far above the groundthat they were safe from the prowling wolves or wolverines. This planis very much safer than that of using large trees, as up the latter manyof the wild animals can climb, and short work would be made of the"cache. "

With lightened sleds--although some of the things left behind were sadlymissed--we hurried on, and after a few days reached our destination. Wefound the majority of the Indians glad to see us, and anxious forinstruction in the ways of the great Book. They had become dissatisfiedwith the ways of their fathers, and had lost all faith in theirconjurers, so they listened with great attention to what we had to tellof the Gospel of the Son of God. 

While we were thus engaged in our missionary duties, blizzards wereraging through that cold northland; so that when we began the long homejourney, we discovered but few traces of the trail, which our snow shoesand dog-trains had made not very long before. However, my guide wasvery clever, and my splendid dogs most sagacious, so we travelled homemost of the way on the same route, even though the original path wasdeeply buried by the snow. 

The place where our cache had been made was duly reached; and gladenough were we to obtain the additional supplies it contained, for wehad been on short allowance for some time. The strong arms of myIndians soon bent down the saplings, untied the bundles and consignedthem to the different dog-sleds. To my surprise, I observed, that atone of the bundles--the heaviest article in which had been a piece ofpemmican weighing perhaps fifty or sixty pounds--my men were talking andgesticulating most earnestly. In answer to my inquiries, they said, that that bundle had been taken down during our absence, and a piece ofpemmican had been cut off and taken away. 

"Nonsense!" I replied. "You are surely mistaken. It looks to me justas it was when we put it up. And then there was not the vestige of atrack here when we returned. "

However, in spite of my protestations, my men were confident that somepemmican had been taken by a stranger, and that the blizzard had coveredup the tracks. With a little more discussion the matter was dropped, and after a good meal we proceeded on our way. 

Months later, along came this strange Indian with the venison and hisstory, which we will now let him finish:

"I was out hunting in those forests through which you passed: for theyare my hunting grounds. I found the trail of a moose, and for a longtime I followed it up, but did not succeed in getting a shot. I hadpoor success on that hunting trip. Shooting nothing for some days, Ibecame very hungry. While pushing along through the woods, I cameacross your trail and saw your cache. So when I saw it was themissionary's cache, the friend of the Indian, I was glad, and I said tomyself. If he were here, and knew that I was hungry, he would say:`Help yourself:'--and that was just what I did. I pulled down asapling, and opening the bundle, cut off a piece of pemmican--justenough to make me feel comfortable under my belt until I could reach mywigwam, far away. Then I tied up the bundle, fastened it in thetreetop, and let it swing up again. And now I have brought you thisvenison, to pay for that pemmican which I took. "

Honest man! He had carried the haunch of venison on his back, adistance of about sixty miles. 

Of course I was delighted, and while complimenting him for his honesty, inquired how he knew that it was my party that had made the cache, rather than a party of Indian hunters. 

Without any hesitancy he replied: "Oh I saw your snow shoe tracks in thesnow. "

"Impossible!" I answered; "for the snow shoes used by the whole partywere made by Sandy, my Indian boy, and were all of one pattern. "

"That no matter, " he answered, while his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Snow shoes all right, but I saw your tracks all the time. When Indianwalk, he walk with toes in; when white man walk, he walk with toes out. So I saw where the missionary make tracks all the time. "

We all voted him a clever, as well as an honest Indian, and rejoicedthat under the faithful teachings of another missionary, this red Indianof the forest, had been so grounded in the lessons of the sermon on themount. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

THE VINDICATION OF THE SABBATH. 

When the missionaries go among the heathen preaching the blessed Gospelof the great Book, they necessarily have to begin, with firstprinciples. When good impressions have been made, and hearts touched, then follows religious instruction in matters of which they have beenperfectly ignorant! and much that is false, and often very childish, hasto be unlearned. 

To these people, before the arrival of the missionary, the Sabbath wasutterly unknown. The preaching of it at first filled them withperplexity and trouble. They thought that it would interfere with theirplans, and so break up their hunting arrangements as to bring them toabsolute want. They were poor, even though working and fishing everyday; and to give up one day out of every seven, and not fire a gun, orset a net--what would become of them! Thus argued some of the Indians. 

Faithfully and lovingly the missionaries set before them the commands ofGod adding the promises of blessings to the obedient. The Book itselfwas diligently searched, and there was a great desire to know, if suchpassages as the one we here quote referred to white people and Indiansnow: "If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thypleasure on my holy day, and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of theLord, honourable: and shalt honour him not doing thine own ways, norfinding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words, then shaltthou delight thyself in the Lord, and I will cause thee to ride upon thehigh places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thyfather; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. "

At last, under faithful teaching, aided by the blessed Spirit, theChristian Indians resolved to take the Book for their guide, and to keepthe Sabbath day. At once, the guns and bows and arrows were put aside, and the fish-nets were left hanging in the breeze for that day. Notraps were visited, neither were the axes lifted up against the trees. Their simple meals were cooked and eaten, and all who could attend, werefound in the house of God three times each Sabbath. 

But now arose fierce opposition from an unexpected quarter. The greatfur-trading company that had for so long a time held despotic power inthe land, in their short-sightedness, --fearing a diminution in thereturns of the fur by the hunters if one-seventh of the time was to be, as they put it, spent in idleness, --sneered at the actions of themissionaries, and by bribes and threats, endeavoured to induce theIndians to ignore their teachings on the subject. 

When, the summer tripping began, and the Indians refused to travel orwork in the boats on the Sabbath, the action of the company developedinto downright persecution. Some description of this "tripping" in thatgreat wild northland is necessary, in order that our readers mayunderstand the position taken by the Sabbath-keeping Indians, and itsmost satisfactory results. 

So remote from the seaboard are some of the interior posts of the HudsonBay Company, that seven years, and sometimes more elapsed, ere the fursobtained for the goods sent, could reach the London market. The balesof goods were first shipped by the company's vessels to York factory, onthe Hudson Bay. Then they were taken by the Indian trippers in strongboats that would hold from three to five tons. A number of these boatsconstituted a "brigade. " A captain of the whole was appointed, and agood state of discipline maintained. 

The first brigade would take the bales up the rivers, often having topass many dangerous places and encounter many risks. Great care andwatchfulness were necessary, and yet in spite of all, boats weresometimes wrecked and lives lost. The hardest part of the work was inwhat was called, "making the portages. " Some of the rivers are full offalls and rapids that are impassable for the boats. Here the portageshave to be made. The hardy boatmen row up to the rapids as close as issafe, unload their cargoes, and carry them on their backs to theselected spot below the obstruction in the river. Then the boats haveto be hauled ashore, and dragged overland by the united strength of theseveral crews to the same place; here they are again launched, and withcargoes aboard, the journey is resumed. On some of these trips thenumber of portages runs up into the scores. Great lakes have to becrossed where fierce storms at times rage, and where head-winds blowwith such fury, that sometimes the brigades are delayed many days. 

At Norway house, --which for many years was the great northern depot forthe company's goods, and the great distributing centre for the interiorparts, --this first brigade would exchange its cargo of goods for thebales of rich furs which another brigade, that had come from the furtherinterior, perhaps from Athabasca or the Saskatchewan country, hadbrought down thus far on their way to the ships for the London market. Then this second brigade would return hundreds of miles into theinterior; and, meeting another brigade from regions still more remote, would exchange its cargo of goods with this third brigade, for regionsyet more distant. Thus it would go on, until some of the bales of goodswere more than three thousand miles from the seaboard where they werelanded; and the different posts had their supply of goods for the furtrade with the Indians. So it happened, that years elapsed ere thegoods reached some of the places; and the furs also were years inreaching the ship for England. 

All of this heavy work was performed by the Indian boatmen, or"trippers, " as they were called. They were the fur-hunters during thecold winter months; but so long as there was open water--that is, noice--they were employed by hundreds to take in goods and bring out furs. 

The one despotic command delivered to these brigades by the company was, "push on!" They argued: The summer in these high latitudes is short; wemust make the most of it. Every day tells, and there must be no laggingby the way. The result was, that the men were worked to the last degreeof endurance. Many failed at the oar, while others dropped under theheavy loads on the difficult portages. "Fill up the ranks quickly, andpush on, " was the order. It was all excitement, and rush, and highpressure, from the beginning of the tripping season until the close. There was no relaxation--no Sabbath--no rest. 

It seemed utter folly for the missionary to come in where such acondition of things existed, and say to the best men of the bestbrigade: "We know the summer is short, and it is essential for thewelfare of the company and your own wages, that the goods should betaken in, and the furs brought out. But a Higher Power has said, `Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy, so when Saturday nightovertakes you, tie up your boats, lay aside your oars, and rest inquietness and devotion until God's day is over. '"

The company in their blindness were at first astounded, then enraged. To lose one-seventh of the short summer, when, as it was, the brigadeswere sometimes caught by the ice, would never do! This fanaticism mustbe stopped! They threatened--they persecuted the missionary and theIndians. Their monopoly in the country gave them great power, and theywielded it unmercifully. Unable to induce the missionary by bribes orthreats to take another stand, they resorted to persecution; and bycalumnies most foul, strove to destroy his good name, and to drive himout of the country. 

He was a wise and judicious, as well as a brave man; and, standing athis post, endeavoured to show his rich and powerful detractors, that noharm would come to them by their employees resting one day in seven. Hebravely declared, that a man could do more work in six days by restingthe seventh, than by working continuously; and he challenged them to thetest. 

At first the statement, which had been, so conclusively proved to betrue was laughed to scorn. However, as the missionary and his ChristianIndians remained true, the company were obliged to yield so far as tosend off a Sabbath-keeping brigade, which they did with many fears andmisgivings. To their surprise, they did their work just as well, andreturned in less time, with the men in better health than those who knewno Sabbath. The logic of actual success triumphed eventually. Allopposition ceased, and up to the time when the old order of things cameto an end, and oars gave way to steam power, no one was found rashenough to question the ability of the Sabbath-keeping Indians to excelin work those who kept not the day of rest. 

I often travelled with those Christian Indians, and the Sabbaths spenton these long trips, are sweet and happy memories. Up to the last houron Saturday when it was safe to travel, the journey would be pursued, until, in some quiet harbour or cosy bend in the river, safe from suddenstorms or tornadoes, the boats would be securely fastened, and thecargoes carefully covered with the oilcloths. After a supper cooked onthe rocks, all would gather around the bright camp-fire for the eveningdevotions. A hymn would be sung, a chapter of the good Book read, andprayer offered by one or two of the company. The Sabbath would be spentquietly and restfully, with at least two impressive and simple services. On Monday, at first blush of morn, we were up, and, after a hasty mealand a prayer, the journey would be resumed with renewed vigour. 

Thus was the Sabbath introduced among the northern Indians. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

GOD MORE POWERFUL THAN THE CONJURER. 

The following beautiful story deserves a place among the very many realanswers to prayer. Still does the Lord say to his followers: "I willyet for this be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them. "

Our Indian converts believe in God. With a simple, childlike faith theytake Him at his word. One of our Indians at his baptism, received theEnglish name of Edmund Stephenson. He was an earnest, simple Christian. His religion made him industrious, and so by his diligent hunting andfishing he provided comfortably for his wife and two little ones. 

One evening, about the middle of last October, he left his family at hislittle home at Norway House, and started up a rapid river to visit someof his relatives, who lived several miles away. In those high latitudesthe cold winter sets in so early that already the river, was coveredwith ice. To make the trip much quicker he fastened on his skates, andwhen last seen, was speeding rapidly away in the evening twilight. 

He did not return the next day as he had promised, and his familybecoming alarmed, sent an Indian messenger to inquire the reason. Tohis surprise he was informed by the friends that Edmund had not visitedthem and they knew not of his whereabouts. When these tidings werecarried home there was great alarm, and a search party was quicklyorganised. From the point where he was last seen alive, they carefullyexamined the ice, and, after a little time, discovered the mostconclusive evidence that the poor man was drowned. 

Over a part of the river where the current is very rapid, theydiscovered that the ice had been broken through; and although all wasnow again firmly frozen over, yet, in the congealed mass, theydiscovered one of Edmund's deer-skin gloves, a button of his coat, andother evidences that he had here fallen through the ice, and had made amost desperate effort to escape. As it was nearly dark when thesearchers made these discoveries as to the place and manner, of hisdeath, they were obliged to be satisfied with this, and to postpone thesearch for the body until the next day. 

Early the next morning they set to work diligently. As much snow hadfallen since the previous evening, they were very much hampered in theirefforts; and, although a large number of men, with snow shovels, axesand grappling irons sought carefully in many places for the remains, several days passed, and they were still unsuccessful in their efforts. 

Among the searchers were some Indians who still believed in the skilland supernatural powers of the conjurers, or medicine men. These, having become discouraged in their efforts, resolved to consult one ofthese old men, so they said:

"Let us go and consult old Kwaskacarpo, and get him to conjure for us, and tell us where to find the body. "

The Christian Indians protested against this, and tried to dissuadethem; but to no purpose they were so discouraged in their efforts. Sothey carried gifts of tea and tobacco to the conjurer, and told him ofthe object of their coming. In response to their wishes, and in returnfor their gifts, he took his sacred drum and medicine-bag into the tent, drummed away noisily until he worked himself up into a kind of frenzy ordelirium, and then told them where to cut the ice and drag for the bodyof their dead comrade. 

When the Christian Indians heard that these others had gone to theconjurer for help, they were very much grieved. One especially, a grandold man by the name of Thomas Mustagan, was very much depressed inspirit. While feeling deeply the loss of Edmund, he was very much hurtwhen the news reached him, that some of the searchers instead of goingto God in their perplexity and trouble, had, like King Saul, resorted tosuch disputable agencies. 

No sooner had he received this news, than he resolved to adopt a verydifferent course. Getting his wife to cook a quantity of food; hecarried it, with some kettles of tea, to a spot on the shore near towhere the men were diligently searching for the body. 

Clearing away the snow he made a fire; and, when the tea was prepared, called the hungry and almost discouraged men around him, and made themeat his food and drink his tea. Then he talked to them of the oneliving and true God, and of His power to hear and answer prayer. Hespoke of the foolishness and wickedness of those, who, having heardabout Him, had gone and consulted the wicked old conjurer. "Let us goto that God about whom we have been taught by our missionaries. He isthe one to help us in our trouble. "

With the people all around him, he kneeled down in snow, and earnestlyand reverently asked God to hear and help them in their sorrow andperplexity. He prayed that wisdom might be given them, so that theymight find the body of their dear friend lying somewhere in that coldriver; that they might take it up, and bury it in their little villagegraveyard. He asked God very earnestly to comfort the poor sorrowingwidow and the little helpless children. Thus with believing faith didthis venerable old Indian of more than fourscore winters, call upon God. 

When they arose from their knees he said: "Now trusting in God to answerus, let us go to work. "

On account of the quantity of snow that had fallen on the ice, they hadfirst to scrape it away, and then use their judgment about where to cutthrough the ice, and drag for the body. Although Thomas was so old aman, he now seemed the most alert and active of the party. By commonconsent, he was given charge of the party of Christian Indians, who nowworked diligently under his direction. 

In the meantime, the old conjurer Kwaskacarpo in a confident voice toldhis followers, that he had conjured, and the answer was, that they wereto cut the ice in a certain designated place. 

Paying no attention to him or his party, the Christian Indians workedaway, and as fast as the ice was cleared of snow, Thomas looked throughas well as he could. 

All at once he arose quickly from a spot of semi-transparent ice whichhe had been carefully examining, and calling to the men with the axesand ice-chisels, he said:

"Try here. "

Soon they had a large hole cut, the grappling irons were brought intouse, and there hundreds of yards from the place where the conjurer haddirected his followers to look for it, the body was found. 

Thomas, while intently searching through the ice, had seen on the undersurface at that place a quantity of air bubbles. The thought came tohim, that here the body had rested, and the last air from the lungs hadescaped and formed these bubbles. He had asked for wisdom and divinedirection and he was not disappointed, for in less than an hour afterthese pious Indians had been on their knees in earnest prayer the bodyof their comrade was being borne away to his home, and from thence toits final resting place in the "God's Acre" of the little Christianvillage. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

BETSY, THE INDIAN WIFE. 

She was not a bad looking woman, but she had such a sorrowful face thatnever seemed to have on it a smile. Mrs Young and I had both noticedthis, and had spoken to each other about it. Her name was Betsy. Shewas the wife of an Indian whose name was Atenou, but who, when baptised, had, like most of his countrymen, asked for the addition to it of anEnglish name, and so was known as Robert Atenou. His record seemed tobe that of a quiet, industrious sort of an Indian, who fished and huntedas did the rest, and gave trouble to none. As he, like many of hispeople, was gifted with readiness of utterance, and was very faithful inhis attendance at all of the religious services, and seemed to be livinga godly life, he had been, given an official position in the church, which, he very much appreciated. 

It was noticed however, that Robert's advancement in the church, did notseem to remove the cloud that was on his wife's face. While the otherwomen were so bright and happy and thankful at the change whichChristianity had brought into their lives, and were at times not slow inspeaking about it, she was a very marked exception. 

Not wishing to pry into her affairs, while perplexed, we were obligedfor a time to remain in the dark, and could only conjecture as to thecause. 

Perhaps the most marvellous and conspicuous evidence of the blessednessof the Gospel, next to its divine power in the salvation of the soul, isto be seen in the glorious way in which it uplifts women. Sad indeed isthe condition of women in lands unreached by the blessed influences ofChristianity. He whose wonderful and tender love for His mother, andfor the goodly women who ministered to Him, was so manifested when Hewalked this earth of ours, is Jesus still. And wherever His name issuccessfully proclaimed, and hearts opened to receive Him, there at onceis a glorious uplifting of woman from a condition of inferiority anddegradation, into one where she is honoured and respected. 

The northern Indian tribes on this continent, while not very warlike, ormuch in the habit of going after the scalps of their enemies, had othercrimes and sins, which showed that they were fallen and sinful, and muchin need of the Gospel. Among the defects and wickednesses of the men, was the almost universal contempt for, and cruelty to the women. If aman spoke or acted kindly to his wife, or mother, or daughter, it was bythem considered a sign of weakness and effeminacy. To be harsh and coldtoward the women, was supposed to be one of the signs of the idealIndian toward which they were ever striving. All manual labour, apartfrom hunting and fishing, was considered degrading to be left to thewomen, and some, as much as possible, even left the fishing to them. Where there were no tribal wars, the perfect Indian was only the greathunter. And with the great hunter, his work ended when the game waskilled. If it were at all possible to send his wife or mother to thespot where the animal lay, that his arrow or gun had brought down, hewould scorn to carry or drag it back to camp. He had killed the bear, or moose, or reindeer, or whatever animal it might happen to be, and nowit was woman's work to take it to the wigwam, and as quickly as possibleprepare for him his meal. Thus we have seen the great stalwartsix-footed hunter come stalking into the village with his gun upon hisshoulder, while the poor mother, or wife, or daughter, came trudging onbehind, almost crushed down with the weight of the game upon her back. He carried the gun--she the game. 

Then, no matter how tired she might be with the heavy burden, no timewas allowed for rest. With a quick harsh "kinipe" (hurry); she was soonat work. The skin was quickly and skilfully removed, and some of thesavoury meat was cooked and placed before her husband or son. Not amouthful would she be allowed to taste until the despot had leisurelyfinished, unless it were to pick some of the bones which hecondescendingly threw to her, as, at a distance from him, she sat withthe girls and dogs. Thus she was treated as a slave, or drudge, orbeast of burden. Then when sickness or old age came on, and she becameunable to work and toil and slave, she was without mercy put out ofexistence: the usual method being strangulation. 

This was the sad condition of women in various parts of this greatcontinent ere the Gospel reached the Indian tribes. Very marvellous andstriking have been the transformations which we have witnessed amongthose to whom we had gone with the truth. At some places we witnessedchanges wrought by the labours of the worthy men who had preceded us; inother places we were permitted both to sow the seed and see the gloriousharvest. 

Although, from the white man's standpoint the people here were poor, yetthe little houses, where were the followers of the Lord Jesus, werehomes of happiness, and the spirit of kindliness and affectioneverywhere prevailed. There men and women lived on terms of equality. No longer did the men eat alone and of the best of the game and fish, but all together men and women, boys and girls as one loving family, shared proportionately what had been secured. The result was, there wasa spirit of contentment and happiness in our mission village that wasvery gratifying. 

However, amidst these happy faces and notes of thanksgiving, here wasthis one sorrowful face and silent tongue. What was the cause? Thetruth came out at last, and in a way that was almost dramatic. 

Mrs Young and I were busy one day with our routine duties, when Betsycame into our home, and hardly taking time enough to give the usualmorning salutation exclaimed in a most decided way; "Robert is not kindto me, and does not treat me like the other men, who profess to beChristians, treat their wives. "

This strong emphatic remark startled us, and at once gave us the clue tothe cause of the sorrowful face. At first we hardly knew just how toanswer such an emphatic utterance, and so in silence waited for her toproceed. But there she sat quietly her face nearly hidden in her blackshawl, seeming to be afraid to proceed further. So we had at length tobreak the awkward silence, by saying we were very sorry to hear herwords and could not understand their meaning, as Robert seemed to be avery good man, and an earnest Christian. 

This at once caused her to break her silence, and turning around to me, she said:

"Yes, that is it. If he did not so profess to be a Christian, I wouldnever mind it, and would silently bear it; but he _professes_ to be aChristian, and does not treat me in the way in which the other Christianmen treat their wives. "

Then she quieted down, and in a very straightforward way told us herstory, which was as follows:

"When Robert goes out and shoots a deer, it is true he does not comehome with the gun upon his shoulder, and make me go out on his trail andbring in the game; he brings it in himself, like the other ChristianIndians; but when it is brought in, he makes me skin it; and then takesthe two haunches over to the fort, and there exchanges them with thefur-traders for some flour, tea and sugar, which he brings home. I haveto cook for him a fore-shoulder of the deer, make cakes at the fire, outof his flour, and then when the tea is made and supper is ready, sit andwatch him, and our boys, and any men visitors who happen to be there--and a number are generally around by that time--eat until all isconsumed. He never gives any of these good things to me, or to thegirls. We have to go out in a canoe, and, with a net, catch some fishfor our food. And yet, " she added, with some bitterness, "he callshimself a Christian; and treats us in this way, as though he had neverheard the missionary. "

Of course we were both indignant as she told her story, and were notslow in letting her know of our annoyance at her having been, sotreated. But wife-like, and woman-like, when I said:

"Robert shall hear of this, and shall be straightened out forthwith, "her fears were aroused, and it seemed as though she were now frightenedat what she had said. However there was not much difficulty in quietingher fears, although at first it did seem as though she would rush out ofthe house, and return to her tent, and submit to the humiliating lifewhich she saw should not have continued so long. 

After a little consultation with Mrs Young, our course of action wasagreed upon. It was, that Betsy should be kept at the mission houseuntil I had assembled in the church a number of the elderly Christianmen; and later Robert, whom we learned from his wife was then at histent, was to be summoned. 

But little time was required in which to gather the men I wanted, asmost of the people were then at their homes. They were completely inthe dark as to the object for which I had called them together. When inthe church. I sent for Mrs Young and Betsy to join us. Poor Betsy wasnow so frightened, that it seemed as if, like a startled deer, she wouldrun to the woods. However, she was in good hands. Mrs Young spokesoothing words, and cheered her much by telling her, that what she haddone in coming to us with the story of her wrongs was perfectly right, and that very soon every thing would be cleared up. 

Shortly after the two women came in and took seats together, Robert, forwhom I had sent two men, walked in. 

At first he was much surprised at the gathering, and especially puzzledand perplexed at seeing his wife sitting there by the side of the wifeof the missionary. Before he could say anything, I pointed out a seatfor him where he would be in full view of his brother Indians, and yet, where his presence would not overawe, or crush down his wife. Soonafter, I locked the church door and said:

"Let us pray. "

After prayers I turned to Betsy, and said:

"Now Betsy, if what you told Mrs Young and me in the mission house istrue, and I believe it is, I want you now to tell the story over againthat these Christian men may hear it. Never mind the fact of Robert'sbeing here; if he is a Christian, as he says he is, the hearing of itwill, I hope, do him good. "

The faces of those Indians were studies. None knew, not even Roberthimself, what Betsy had to say; and so they waited in amazement to hearher story. 

With an encouraging word from Mrs Young, she began; and although atfirst she was timid and nervous, she soon recovered her self-possession, and in a perfectly natural manner told the story of the treatment sheand the girls had received from the hands of her husband. With renewedemphasis she dwelt on that which seemed to have given her the mostsorrow? "If he had not so professed to be a Christian, I would not haveso much minded it. "

Indians are the best listeners in the world. They never interruptanyone in his talk. And so, even Robert, who at first was simplydumbfounded and amazed, controlled himself and held his peace. Very fewwhite men could have done so. I had purposely so placed him, that if hehad suddenly attempted violence, stronger men could instantly haverestrained him. But nothing of the kind was attempted. As his wifewent on and on, showing the difference between his conduct toward herand their girls, and that of the other Christian men toward their wivesand daughters, Robert's head went lower and lower, until there he sat, humiliated and disgraced before his brethren. When Betsy finished hertalk and sat down, I turned to the good men there assembled and merelysaid:

"What do you think of such conduct on the part of one who professes tobe a Christian?"

Their indignation knew no bounds. Indian like, they had let Betsy tellher whole story without any interruption; but the looks on their facesas she proceeded, told how deeply affected they were. Now that they hadheard her story, it seemed as though they all wanted to speak at ones;but there are well understood, although unwritten, rules of precedenceamong them, so the first in order spoke, and then the second, and thenthe third, and so on. 

How they did dress the poor fellow down! While it was very severe, itwas Christian and brotherly. They spoke as men who were grieved andwounded. 

"Is this the way you have acted! You, Robert Atenou, who for so long atime have professed to be a Christian; you, to treat your poor wife andchildren like that; as though no Bible, or missionary had come among us!Now we know why Betsy has been so sad, and did not rejoice like theother women. "

Thus they faithfully chided him, and expressed their sorrow at hisheartless conduct. 

Poor Robert, I had soon to pity him. First, of course, I was a littleanxious as to the way in which a once proud-spirited fiery Indian, wouldtake his wife's arraignment of his misdoings and selfishness, and alsothese reprimands from his brethren. However, it turned out all right. Robert just buried his bronzed face in his hands, and received it all insilence. When I thought it had gone far enough, and had decided in myown mind not then and there to question him, I asked for a cessation ofthe speaking, and went and opened the church door. 

At once Robert arose and left the church. 

Not one word had he spoken to anybody. 

Betsy, wife-like, wished immediately to follow him, but Mrs Youngpersuaded her not to go for a little while. She took the poorfrightened creature into the mission house, gave her a cup of tea andsomething to eat, and what she prized more, some loving sympatheticwords. When she did return home, she found that Robert was absent. Thechildren said that he had come in, and, after saying some kind words tothem, had taken his gun and ammunition and had gone off hunting. He didnot return until the next day, but he had with him a fine deer. This heskinned himself, and taking the two hind quarters, went as usual to thefort, and bartered them for flour, tea and sugar. When he returned tohis tent, he handed these things to his wife, and desired her to cookthem as usual. After all had been prepared he had all placed before hiswife, daughters, and sons. Then, telling them to enjoy the meal, heleft the tent. Taking a net, he went out upon the lake in a canoe, andafter some time spent in fishing, was seen cooking and eating his catchupon the shore. 

Thus he lived for weeks. He was a good hunter, and worked mostindustriously and successfully. All the game taken, he brought to hiswife and children, upon which he insisted that they should feast, whilehe confined himself to a fish diet; although those caught at that seasonwere far from being the best. 

One Saturday evening, as we were standing in the front of our missionhome enjoying the splendours of a most magnificent sunset, we saw Robertcoming up the trail. As he drew near I accosted him kindly, but it waseasy to see that he was in trouble, and that there was "something on hismind. " We chatted about various things, and I encouraged him to speakout freely. With a sudden effort he broke loose from his feeling ofrestraint, and said:

"Missionary, are you going to let me come to the Sacrament of the Lord'sSupper to-morrow?"

Four times a year we had this sacramental service, and it was a greatevent to our native Christians. In answer to his question I replied:

"Why Robert, what is there to cause me to wish to prevent you fromcoming to the Lord's table?"

Looking at me earnestly, he said:

"There is a good deal. Just think of the way I have treated my wife anddaughters!"

"Yes, " I said, "I remember that; but I also know how you have beentreating them during the last few weeks. "

With a face from which the shadows had now fled away, he said quickly:--

"Have you heard anything about that?"

"O yes, Robert, " I replied, "I know all about it. I have good eyes andears, and I have seen and heard how nobly you have redeemed yourself. Iam very glad of it. Of course I will welcome you to the Lord's table. "

After a little further conversation, I said:

"Tell me, Robert, why did you act so selfishly toward your wife anddaughters?"

He just uttered with emphasis the Indian word which means:"Stupidity, "--then after a little pause he quietly added; "But I think Ihave got over it. "

And so he had. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

FIVE INDIANS AND A JACK-KNIFE. 

Indian boys dearly love pocket-knives. As they have to make their ownbows and arrows, the paddles for their birch canoes, and also the framesfor their snow shoes, of course a good knife is a valued possession. Inwhittling, Indian boys do not push the knife from them, but always drawit toward them. They are very clever in the manufacture of the fewthings which they require, and are encouraged by their fathers to dotheir work as neatly as possible. So the better the knife, the betterthe work which these Indian lads can do, and they are ambitious topossess the very best knife that it is possible for them to obtain; justas the older Indians will give any price within their means for the verybest guns that are made. Knowing this love for a good knife, I onceused it among a lot of Indian lads, as an incentive to encourage them tosing: as our story will explain. 

At one of our Indian villages, where a flourishing mission with its dayand Sunday schools exists, the devoted lady teacher said to me on arecent visit:

"I do wish you would do something to encourage our boys to sing. Theyhave good voices, but they seem afraid to use them. If I do succeed ingetting one to sing, the others laugh at him, and then there is no moresinging that day. "

I gladly promised to do what I could; but before I describe the planadopted, perhaps I would better give some description of these Indiansamong whom this courageous young lady was living. Their hunting groundsare in the vast region which lies between Lake Winnipeg and Hudson Bay. They are called Saulteaux, and are a subdivision of the great Algonquinfamily. 

Until very recently they lived altogether by hunting and fishing. Soignorant were they, even of the existence of bread, that when the firstmissionaries, who translated into their language the Lord's prayer, cameto the petition, "Give us this day our daily bread, " to make itintelligible to them, they had to translate it, "Give us this daysomething to keep us in life. "

They were, and still are very poor. Once the forests abounded in game, and the richest fur-bearing animals, such as the black and silver foxes, otters, beavers, minks, martens and ermines, were caught in largenumbers; but incessant huntings have almost annihilated some of theseanimals, and others are very difficult to find. The lakes once teemedwith fish; but the rapid increase of the white population in thenorth-western states and in Manitoba has so multiplied the demands, thatnot one quarter as many fish are now caught as formerly. 

The result is, that the poor Indians whose sole dependence was on thesethings, are not as well off as they formerly were, even with the littlehelp which they receive from the government. Hence it is the imperativeduty of the missionaries, not only to Christianise them, but to do allthey can, in harmony with the government officials, to encourage them toraise cattle, to cultivate what land is available, and to raise thosehardy crops which will come to maturity in such a cold northern region. 

This was the place; and those were the Indians whose boys the devotedteacher wished me to encourage to sing. The request was made during thecelebration of a feast which I was giving them. I had taken out fromcivilisation such things as flour, tea, sugar, currants, candies; and atfour a. M. The Indian women had come to the place appointed and hadcooked the cakes etcetera, and made all other needed preparations. 

At about ten the people assembled on the bank of the river in front ofthe church. Everybody came. All were welcome. It was not askedwhether they were Christian or pagan. We greeted them all cordially, and treated them alike. 

Of the happy incidents of the feast, the glad hours of loving converse, and the religious services held after, we have no room here to write. Suffice it to say, that at about four p. M. The children's hour came, andwith them we had a very interesting time. I was delighted with theiranswers to my many questions, especially with their knowledge of theblessed Book. The girls sang very sweetly, but not much music came fromthe boys, and so I began at once to act on the request of the teacher. 

Knowing, as I have stated, the boys' love for pocket-knives, I went toone of my boxes, and taking out six very good ones, I stood up beforethe crowd and said:

"Boys, listen to me. I am going to give these six knives to the sixboys who will sing the best. And look! While five of them are good twobladed knives, one of them is a splendid four bladed one! Now, I amgoing to give this best one, to the boy who will sing the best of all!"

Great indeed was the excitement among the Indian lads. Nearly every boyin the audience rushed to the front and the trial began. Indians intheir wild state have no music worth preserving, and so in all of ourmissions, our hymns and songs are translated, and the tunes ofcivilisation are used. The teacher seated herself at the little organ, and the testing began. They sang such hymns as "Rock of Ages", "Come, thou Fount of every blessing", "Just as I am", "Jesus my all, to heavenis gone, " and many others. 

The inferior singers were weeded out very rapidly, and sent back totheir seats. When the number was reduced to about ten, the work ofselection proceeded more slowly; but eventually the number was reducedto six. The question now was, Which of these six was to receive thefour-bladed knife? This was not easy to settle. The members of thecommittee differed very decidedly; so one boy after another was tried, over and over again, and still no unanimous decision could be reached. 

While the committee was discussing the matter, five of the boys, seeingour perplexity, took the matter out of our hands and settled it in a waythat surprised and delighted us all. These five were fine specimens ofIndian lads. They were lithe and strong, and full of life and fun. Thesixth boy, Jimmie Jakoos, was a cripple, having one leg which was verymuch shorter than the other: the result being that he had to usecrutches. These five had moved over to one side, and were observed tobe excitedly, though quietly, engaged in conversation. 

After their brief discussion, one of them sprang up, and looking at measked:

"Missionary, may I say something?"

"Certainly you may, " I replied. 

"Well, missionary, " he answered, "we five boys have been talking itover, and this is what we think about it. You see we are well andstrong. We can chase the rabbit, and partridge, and other game; andthen when winter comes, we can skate on the rivers, and lake; but Jimmieis lame, he has a bad leg. He cannot run in the woods. He cannot goskating on the ice. But Jimmie is fond of whittling. He is a good handat making bows, and arrows, and paddles, and other things, and a fineknife would be just the thing for him. And so we five boys have talkedthe matter over, and as he is a cripple, we will be very glad if youwill give the best knife to Jimmie. "

Noble boys! How the people were thrilled at this speech. Itelectrified me, and filled not only my eyes with tears, but my heartwith joy. 

I could but think of the past, of the cruelty and intense selfishness ofthose dark days, when, among both the young and old, everyone was forhimself, and the unfortunate, and feeble, were neglected and despised. Now, thanks to the blessed ennobling influences of Christianity, eventhe boys were catching this Christly spirit, and would spontaneously actin this delightful way. 

So to Jimmie was given the four-bladed knife and to the other boys werehanded the two-bladed ones; but so pleased was I with the beautifulspirit displayed by them, that I added to the gift a good shirt orjacket as each boy chose. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

THE SAULTEAUX CHIEFTAINESS; OR, A SEARCHER AFTER THE TRUTH. 

She was a large woman, and as she came into our mission home her conductwas so different from that of the ordinary Indian woman, that I wassomewhat prejudiced against her. Generally the Indian women when theyenter a house are quiet, and modest, and unobtrusive in their movements;but here stalked in a large woman, who gazed at us with searchingglances, and had such decided ways, that I felt disturbed at herpresence and soon left the house for a couple of hours in the woodswhere some of my Indian men were at work. 

When I returned, it was with the hope that she had finished her visitand retired. But no, there she was; and it was quite evident that shehad come to stay. When my good wife saw my apparent annoyance at thisnew visitor, she called me to one side and said:

"You must not be annoyed at this woman. She is a chieftainess, and thedaughter of a chief. Her husband was a chief, and when he died, she, atthe request of her people, took his position, and has maintained it eversince. "

She had heard from some fur-hunters about our having come to live in theland of the Saulteaux. She had also heard of the wonderful book we had, which was the word of the Great Spirit; and this too, had excited hercuriosity. She had listened to these rumours with incredulity and didnot believe them; but as they increased, her curiosity was so excited, that she resolved at length to find out for herself if these things weretrue, and had actually come many days journey to investigate forherself. Here she was, thoroughly installed in our little home, and I, at first, much prejudiced against her on account of her decided emphaticsort of way. 

I sat down beside her, and had her tell me her story. She was indeed aclever woman, and was full of anxiety to learn if what she had heardwere true. She was an anxious inquirer after truth, literallyinsatiable in her curiosity, and in her desire to learn all she could. She could talk morning, noon and night, and would keep one of us busyanswering her questions all the time she was not sleeping or eating. 

She stayed with us about two weeks, and then returned to her people;meanwhile attending every religious service, and receiving many lessonsin divine truth. The simple plan of salvation was explained to her, andshe was taught how to pray. 

Ere she went away, I said to her: Now you are going back home, and Iwant to say something to you. You must try to remember what we havesaid about the loving Father, and His beloved Son. You must try to prayevery day to Him, and you must try to love Him and keep all of Hiscommands. 

"Now one of these commands is, `Remember the Sabbath day to keep itholy. ' Christians keep one day in seven, and you say that your peopledesire to be Christians; and I believe you. We want you to be aChristian in everything, and so we want you to remember this among theother commandments. To help you in this matter, I am going to give youthis big sheet of paper and pencil, and you will mark each day as itgoes by. "

So starting her on Monday, I showed her how to mark the days in thisway:--111111. "Those six are _your_ days, in which to hunt and fish andattend to all your duties as a chieftainess. Look after all youraffairs on those six days; then, when the seventh day comes, make a bigmark in this way:--

"This mark is for God's day. Leave your gun and net on that day, and donot go hunting or fishing: it is the day of rest and worship. Make allpreparations for it on the day before. See that you have plenty of foodcaptured, and wood cut, so that when the day of God chines, you will nothave to work or hunt or fish. On that day think much about the GreatSpirit, and pray much to your loving father who sees and hears you allthe time, and who is well pleased if we keep His day and worship Himupon it. "

Ere she left, she pleaded earnestly with me to come and visit her andher tribe, and preach to them, and explain the way of the Great Book. My engagements were very many but finding that I could crowd in a visit, I said:

"When the eagle-moon is filling out listen for the ringing of themissionary's sleigh-bells, for then will he be coming to see you andyour people with his dog-train and guide. "

My programme of engagements was so great, that it was about six monthsere I could make the promised visit. So when the eagle moon came--whichis February--I harnessed up my dogs, and taking one of my experiencedguides and a couple of dog-drivers, started for the far-off land ofOokemasis. 

We were about two weeks on the journey. It was one of the mostdangerous and toilsome I ever undertook. We often had to travel alongon the narrow ledges of ice that overhung the rapid waters of the greatriver. Sometimes our dog-sleds would whirl round on the ice and we comevery near falling off into the dark cold waters. This was much moredangerous from the fact, that much of the travelling had to be done bynight for the dazzling rays of the sun during the daytime rendered us soliable to the terrible snow-blindness, which is such a painful disease. However, we persevered, and by daylight when possible, and by night whenwe could do no better, pushed on, and at last reached our destination. 

The last six miles of the journey lay across a frozen lake on thefarther shore of which was the village of the chieftainess. When notmore than half way across the lake, the sharp eyes of those on thelookout, detected our coming, whereupon great excitement prevailed inthe village. Never, it seemed, was there a happier woman thanOokemasis. She received us with a wondrous welcome, and in emphaticways expressed her gratitude and joy. Already when we arrived, thefeast of welcome was being prepared. When she was certain that it wasthe missionary, she had taken down from a staging some heads ofreindeer, and, after singeing off the hair and chopping them into greatchunks, had put them into a big pot to boil. 

After the warm welcome, we were escorted to a large tent to wait untildinner was ready. As she had no tea, I gave her a quantity much to herdelight. So excited was she, that she kept running into the tent totell me how great was her joy, that at length the man and the Book hadcome to her people. When dinner was ready, she escorted me and myattendants out to it. A spot had been cleaned away, in the centre ofwhich, on a big dish, was a large pile of pieces of reindeer heads. Around were a number of tin cups filled with hot strong tea. Herinvitations had been limited to the number of tin cups she could muster. She placed me at her left, and her chief next in authority to herself, on her right. My guide and dog-drivers were next to me on my left, andthe circle was completed with other Indian men. She was the only womanin the circle as soon as we were seated on the ground, some of the menat once seized hold of a piece of meat, and drawing their huntingknives, were about to begin their dinners:

"Stop, " said I. "Wait a minute. You are all going to be Christians, and one thing Christians do, is to ask a blessing upon their food. TheGreat Spirit gives us all the good things, and we must thank Him forthem. So now shut your eyes, and I will ask the blessing. "

Every eye was closed as I asked a blessing of several sentences. When Ihad finished, I said "Amen" and of course opened my own eyes. To myamazement and amusement, every eye, except those of my own Indianattendants, was still closed. "Open your eyes, " I said. "Amen, heremeans, _open your eye_. It has some other meanings, but that will dohere. "

Then we went at our dinners. There were no plates or forks, only ourhunting knives. Every one, including the missionary, took up a piece ofthe well-cooked meat in his left hand, and began whittling off hisdinner with his knife. My friend, the chieftainess, had large, strongand not very clean hands. But she cared not for that. She grabbed up alarge piece of juicy meat, into which her hand almost sank, and cut andtore off the savoury bits with great delight. Then she flung it on theground and took a good drink of the tea; and then seizing hold of themeat tore at it again with great satisfaction. Suddenly she dropped itagain upon the ground, and, plunging her greasy hand into the bosom ofher dress, said:

"O, missionary, I want you to see how I have tried to keep the record ofthe praying day. " So out of the bosom of her dress she drew a greasydirty paper, which at first I did not recognise as the large clean sheetI had given her. 

"Here, look, " she said, "see how I have tried to keep the record of thepraying day!"

With much interest, I examined it, and found, that during all those sixmonths, she had faithfully kept the record. There it was; the right dayfor all that long period. Then she went on to tell me of all herexperiences. She said, that some days when she was in her wigwam tryingto think of the Great Spirit and of His Son, and was trying to pray toHim, a boy would rush in and say:

"Ookemasis, there is a big reindeer out in the ravine, I am sure you canshoot it. "

"But I would say, `No. This is the praying day and I cannot fish orshoot on this day. ' So I have never gone hunting or fishing on thepraying day. I just try to think of the Great Spirit, my Father, and topray and talk to Him, and have Him talk to me. "

Of course I spoke kind and encouraging words to her, and she was veryhappy indeed to hear them. 

Then she put back the dirty paper, and reaching down to the ground againseized hold of her big piece of meat. Looking at mine, a bony bit whichI had selected because I could hold it a little more easily while Icarved it, she shouted out:

"Your piece of meat is a very poor one, mine is a very good piece, " andbefore I could realise what she was about, she exchanged the pieces. Ofcourse I could do nothing but accept it, with thanks. I had to approveof the motive, even if I did not applaud the deed. It was an act ofkindness that we are not all educated up to. 

After the dinner we had a religious service that lasted until suppertime. Then, after a good supper of fish, we had another service, thatlasted until midnight. Then she put me in charge of one of her Indianswho had a large wigwam. With him my Indians and I spent the night. There were only twenty-two of us sleeping around the fire in the centre. 

I remained with them for a number of days, and since then, they have allgiven up paganism, and have become good earnest Christian people. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

BIG TOM. 

His full name was Mamanowatum, which means, "O be joyful. " He was a bigman, almost gigantic, and generally slow in his movements, except whenon the trail. When he arose to address an assembly, either in council, or church, he got up by inches, and seemed to rest between. But when hewas up, and began to talk, he had something to say that was worthy ofattention. 

Our first introduction to him was in 1868. He was the guide andsteersman of the Hudson Bay inland boat, in which my wife and Itravelled from Fort Garry, on the Red River of the North, to NorwayHouse, situated on Playgreen Lake, beyond the northern extremity of LakeWinnipeg. 

At this time Big Tom, as he was called by everybody, had been an earnestChristian for several years. Earlier missionaries had preceded us, andamong the Indian converts was this godly man, about whom it is apleasure to write. We both took to him at once. He was one of nature'snoblemen. While pleased with his kindly considerate ways, we admiredthe skill and ability with which he managed the little boat on such astormy lake. 

The long and dangerous journey was of about four hundred miles andoccupied us for about fourteen days. Big Tom steered our boat with along oar, which he used as a rudder. The principal propelling power ofthese boats, is the long strong oars, manned by the Indian crews. Wehad in our boat eight good oarsmen, and the vigour and endurance ofthese men was a matter of constant admiration. When head windsprevailed, or we were in the midst of calm, hour sifter hour thesefaithful men toiled on at their oars, as diligently as ever did anygalley slave. A favouring breeze, even if it turned into a dangerousgale, was ever welcomed, as it gave the men a rest from their slavishwork. 

As soon as the wind was favourable the cheery cry of:

"Meyoo-nootin, " (Fair wind, ) from the guide, --or as was the cry on thistrip, "Souway-nas, " (South wind, )--gladdened every heart. At once therewas great activity. The oars were hauled in, and the mast which hadbeen lashed to the side of the boat, was quickly placed in position. Ropes were speedily arranged, the big square sail was hoisted, and on wesped before the favouring breeze. 

With the rising of the wind, generally came the great waves; and themost careful steering on the part of Big Tom was necessary to keep ourheavily laden boat from plunging her prow into foam-covered billows. Itwas a pleasure to observe the watchful care of this cautious steersman, as well as to see the strength and quickness with which he managed ourlittle boat when great waves seemed about to sweep over us. Hiscourteous ways won our respect, while his ability as a steersmancommanded our admiration. 

He did all that he could to make our trip, which had many drawbacks, ascomfortable and as enjoyable as possible. It was not very comfortableto have a great struggling ox on board, very close to the place where wehad to sit. Sometimes, as the boat was tossed on the waves, his headwas over one side of the little craft; and then shortly after, his tailwas over the other side. 

Every night where we camped on the shore. Big Tom gathered bundles offragrant grass, part of which he gave the ox as provender, and with therest he endeavoured to make our surroundings more comfortable andinviting. He regretted, perhaps as much as we did, our having to travelso long a time with this great ox so close to us; and yet ere we reachedthe end of our journey, it seemed almost a certainty, that what we hadconsidered an unmitigated nuisance, had been our salvation. One night, in our anxiety to push on, the Indians decided not to go ashore andcamp, but to sail on all night as the wind was favourable. During thesmall hours the wind increased almost to a gale, while dark cloudsobscured nearly every star. Big Tom--hero that he was--stuck to hispost and, nobly aided by his experienced Indians, under close-reefedsail, sped rapidly on in the gloom. The missionary and his wife weresleeping in their camp bed, which had been spread out at the feet of thesteersman; and just beyond us, lying down at our feet, was the great ox. Suddenly the boat was thrown on its side, and came to a standstill. For a time there was great excitement, and the shouting of orders by theusually quiet Indians, about equalled the raging of the storm. 

With great presence of mind. Big Tom instantly lowered the sail, thussaving us from a complete upset. It was found that we had run on thesloping side of a smooth submerged granite rock. Fortunate indeed wasit for us that our boat was well ballasted by its cargo, and that theheaviest item was the ox. The unanimous opinion of the Indians was, that his great weight saved us from a capsize. By careful managementthe boat was released from its perilous position uninjured, and theadventurous journey resumed. 

After this exciting adventure. Big Tom decided that there must be nomore night travelling. So from early dawn until late at night wehurried on, encamping each evening in some favourable spot upon theshore. 

The camp-fire, generously supplied with fuel from the great forests sonear, lit up the swarthy features of our stalwart men, some of whom wereengaged in preparing the evening meal, while others, in picturesquegroups, were otherwise occupied. This hearty evening meal was enjoyedby all. 

Shortly after, we all assembled for our evening devotions. Someadditional logs thrown upon our camp-fire so brightened it up, that allwho wished could easily follow the reading of the lesson in their ownTestaments and use their own hymn-books in the service of song. Thememories of some of those religious services are very precious. Stillcan we hear Big Tom's deep rich voice reading in his musical Creelanguage:

"Weya Muneto a ispeeche saketapun uske, ke niakew oo pauko-Koosisana, piko una tapwatowayitche numaweya oo ga nissewunatissety, maka oo gaayaty kakeka pimatissewin. " Which is the translation of that matchlessverse, the sixteenth of the third chapter of Saint John's Gospel. 

Then after the chapter was read, an appropriate hymn would be sung. TheIndians have but little music of their own, and less poetry that can bemade available for religious worship. The result is, that themissionaries and teachers have already translated over four hundred ofour choicest hymns into the Indian language, and use with them the tuneswith which they have been generally associated. Upon the occasion towhich we refer, it did seem sweet and appropriate to us to sing, even ifin another language, the favourite evening hymn:

 "Glory to thee my God this night, For all the blessings of the light; Keep me, O keep me King of kings, Beneath thine own almighty wings. "

When our evening hymn had been sung, we knelt reverently upon the rocks, while Big Tom, or some other godly Indian, led us in prayer, followed byone or two others. Then sweet rest was ours, until the early dawn. Asharp call, to which all promptly responded, was followed by a hastybreakfast, and earnest prayers, and then the journey was resumed. 

Two Sabbaths were spent on this journey. To our Christian Indians, theSabbath was indeed a much prized blessing. By scripturally using it asa day of rest and religious worship, and not as a day of dissipation, they were physically, as well as spiritually, invigorated; and thus ableto do much better work. We had, in addition to the morning and eveningprayers, two delightful religious services in both the Indian andEnglish languages. The intervals between were spent in reading the Bookand some sweet song services. 

As the years rolled on, with their varied duties, we ever found in BigTom, a most valued and trusted assistant. His noble consistent life, made him a benediction, to both whites and Indians. If disputes arose, and arbitration was necessary, it was Big Tom who was first thought ofas an arbitrator; and we cannot recall an instance where his decisionwas rejected. 

He was a great hunter in his day, and many were the stories afloat ofhis skill and prowess. For years he held the record of being the bestmoose hunter in the village. The moose, although the largest of thedeer tribe, and of an ungainly appearance, can move through the forestwith great rapidity. It never gallops like other deer, but swings alongon a pacing trot, at a rate, and with an endurance that would soon leavethe swiftest horse behind. Its head is freighted with great broad hornsof enormous dimensions and weight, and yet among the dense trees, itcan, when alarmed, move so swiftly, that the fleetest hunter is soonleft far in the rear. Its sight is not equal to that of some other ofthe deer species; but nature has given it the most acute powers ofhearing and of scent. From Big Tom and others we have heard it stated, that even when a fierce November storm was raging in the woods, withtrees swaying to and fro, and branches crashing against each other andbreaking in the gale, if the incautious hunter, hundreds of yards away, happened to step on a small dry twig that snapped under his foot, themoose at once detected the sound and was off like an arrow, neverstopping for many miles. 

Of Big Tom's skill as a hunter, we have nothing more to record atpresent; but here we wish to put on record an instance of hisself-abnegation, which beautifully reveals the disinterested characterof the man, and shows what was the heart's ambition. 

For many generations these American Indians have been divided intotribes. Many and diverse are their languages; but numbers of theircustoms and methods of government are similar. In all the tribes chiefsgoverned who had more or less authority. In some, the honour washereditary; in others, not so; although in the latter the son of thechief, if he were at all suitable, had the best chance of beingappointed in his father's place. When the Canadian government madetreaties with the Indians of the great north-west, it ever acknowledgedthe authority of the chiefs; and through them, today still transacts allbusiness with the tribes. For some time before the treaty was made withthe northern Crees, the office of chieftainship had fallen intoabeyance. When word arrived that the government was about to enter intotreaty with them, and wished to know who was their chief, there was agood deal of excitement. The Dominion government has been veryhonourable in its treatment of the Indians, and in the respect which ithas paid to the chiefs of this naturally sensitive people, whoseallowances have been silver medals, fine clothes, and extra gratuities, both in money and supplies. Of course there was excitement among theCrees at the prospect of great political changes. Councils werefrequent, and many pipes were smoked in wigwams and beside camp-firesover the matter. Various names were discussed, and sons and grandsonswere brought forward, only to be rejected one after another. Big Tomtook but little interest in these proceedings, and attended but fewcouncils. One day to his surprise, while at work in his garden, he waswaited upon by a deputation of Indians and informed that he was urgentlyneeded at the council house. Here in full council he was told that hewas the choice of the people, and that they wanted him to be theirchief--to wear the silver medal with the face of the Great Mother (theQueen) upon it, and to be their voice to speak to the Queen'srepresentative, (the Governor), on all matters that referred to thehappiness and welfare of the tribe. 

I had been informed of the decision of the people, and had accepted aninvitation to be present at the council when Big Tom was to beappointed. In other days, I had attended conventions among my whitefriends, and there had observed the readiness with which profferedhonours, political and ecclesiastical, were accepted. Here, however, was a surprise in store for us; an exception to the general rule, somarvellous that it is worth pondering. 

When the office of chief was offered to him, the big man, who lookedevery inch a chief, instead of accepting the position at once, becamedeeply affected, and seemed utterly unable to make any suitable reply. He tried, we thought, to express his thanks for the great honour; butall he really did was in broken words to ask for an adjournment of thecouncil until the next day. While disappointed at the adjournment, Iwas pleased at the thought that Big Tom, taken unawares, had felt thathe could not give the oration which the occasion demanded, and so hadasked for time to get his thoughts in order, when he would give us aspeech worthy of the great event; for Big Tom was a speaker of no meanorder, although rather slow until he warmed up to his subject. 

On the reassembling of the council, we were all there, eager to hear anIndian oration under the best auspices. It was a speech, calm, eloquent, delightful; but how different from what had been expected. What a chance was here for an ambitious, aspiring man! How he couldhave talked about himself; what he had done, and what he was going todo! But in Big Tom's address there was nothing of the kind. Quietlyand modestly he talked, warming up as he proceeded. The only briefreport I have of his address is the following, and it fails to dojustice to the occasion or to the man:

"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 darkness, began to feel in ourhearts, that what they told us was for our good; and so we acceptedthese 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 liveforever, I found, that in working out this salvation, I had somethinggreat to live for. To do this was the great object of my life. By andby I married, and then, as my family increased and began to grow uparound me, I found I had another object for which to live--to help itsmembers along in the way to heaven, as well as to work for their comforthere. 

"Then, after a while, the missionary gave me the charge of a class. Wewere to meet, and talk together about our souls, and God's love for us, and to do all we could to help each other to the better land. To do myduty as the leader was a great and an important work. While attendingto these duties, I found I had another object for which to live. Thesethree things, --my own soul's salvation; the salvation of my family; todo all I can to help and encourage the members of my class to be trueand faithful to Him, --are uppermost 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 toattend to many other things than those which I have set my mind upon. So you must appoint some one else; for, with those three things I cannotlet anything else interfere. I thank you, my brothers, and love youall. "

Noble, disinterested Big Tom! As I listened to him while he thustalked, I was prouder of him than ever; and I thanked God for theconversion of such men from paganism to Christianity, and for thedevelopment in their hearts and lives of such noble qualities andvirtues.