By Canoe And Dog-Train Part 18

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

Thus from house to house we would go, and by our presence and cheery words encourage them to become more industrious and tidy. Those families never forgot these visits. With many of them there was a marked change in their homes, and with many also there was a marked improvement in their religious life.

Once, in preaching from the text, "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in," I tried to describe the blessed Redeemer coming to our hearts and knocking for admittance. I told them, all He wanted was a welcome to come in.

As they made their little houses so clean, and gave the Missionary and his wife such a welcome, so the Saviour asked us to drive all sin out, and give Him all the place.

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

Such talks as these, after practical ill.u.s.trations, opened many hearts to the Heavenly Guest.

So many and importunate had been the pleading calls for visits to different places, to tell the wonderful story of the Great Spirit and his Son, and to teach the people to read His Book, that one year my canoe trip to Oxford House Mission had to be delayed until the summer was nearly ended. But my comrades were splendid fellows, and we started off in good spirits, antic.i.p.ating a successful visit; and we were not disappointed.

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

When travelling, if the weather was good, we generally rose with the first blush of morn, and so were often on the way by four o'clock.

Sometimes our route was across fine lakes, or along majestic rivers; and then we were in narrow, sluggish streams, that were dest.i.tute of beauty or interest. One morning our way was down a large river, on the sh.o.r.es of which the fog had settled, completely hiding us from land. The early morning air was invigorating, and so in unison we were plying our paddles vigorously, and rapidly speeding along. We had seen no signs of human beings for days, and so were surprised and startled when several reports of firearms in quick succession sounded sharp and clear through the fog on our right. Nothing was visible through the gloom, but we quickly hove to, and turned our canoe in the direction from which the _feu-de-joie_ had sounded. As we approached the sh.o.r.e human forms began to appear in ghostly outline, more and more distinct, until they resolved themselves into a company of Indians, who were delighted to see us, and had been on the look-out for days. They had come sixty miles from the interior, and had camped on that point jutting out into the river, for the purpose of having a visit from us as we pa.s.sed.

The fact that they detected us as we were pa.s.sing was another evidence of the marvellous education, in certain lines, of these Indians. It was very early in the morning; our canoe was some hundreds of yards from the sh.o.r.e; a dense fog hid us completely from each other. All the noise we made was the dip of our paddles in the water. Yet these wide-awake, alert Indians heard that sound, and by the rapid firing of the guns drew us to them.

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

We made the greater part of the return trip all right, had reached Harry Lake early in the forenoon, and were rapidly paddling out of the river which entered into it, when again we heard the report of guns. So anxious were we to get on that we hesitated about stopping. It was now later in the season than often in some other years. Fierce storms had raged, and the ice had formed on the lake and rivers. We were dreading these fierce fall storms, which come down very suddenly, and stir up those northern lakes, so that in a very short time where all was calm and still, great foam-crested waves go rushing madly by.

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

To cross it now, as in wondrous beauty it spread before us, would be but a pleasure jaunt. The poetry of motion is to be found in the Indian's birch canoe, when the water is calm and the sky is clear. Cold-hearted prudence said, "Go on, and never mind those Indians' signals for you to land." Our better natures said, "They may be in need, and have good reason for asking you to stop. Perhaps you can do them good." So we turned the head of our canoe to the sh.o.r.e, and were soon alongside the rock on which we saw them standing. They were five hunters. Without getting out of the canoe, we asked why they had signalled to us to come ash.o.r.e. Their answer was one we had often heard before. They were hungry, and wanted help. Finding they had only been a few days away from the Fort, where they had got supplies, I asked how it was that they were so badly off. Their reply was that they had unfortunately left their powder, which they were carrying in a canvas bag, out on the rock a few nights before. While they slept the rain came down upon them and ruined it, and so they could not shoot anything. I quickly said to one of my men, "How much food have we?" He examined our limited supply, and then said there was about one square meal.

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

Fortunately we had some tea and sugar.

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

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

The third day one of the Indians, while walking along the sh.o.r.e, found the old bleached shoulder-blade of a bear. With his knife he carved out a rude fish-hook, and, taking the strings of his moccasins, and those of others, he formed a line. A piece of red flannel was used as bait, and a small stone served as a sinker. With this primitive arrangement he began fishing. His method was to stand on a rock and throw the hook out as far as his line would permit, and then draw it in rapidly, like trolling.

Strange to say, with this rude appliance he caught a fish. It was a pike weighing six or eight pounds. Very quickly was it scaled, cleaned, and put in the pot. When cooked, about a third of it was put on my tin plate, and placed before me with these words: "Please, Missionary, eat."

I looked at the hungry men around me and said, "No, that is not the way." And then I put back the third of the fish with the rest, and, taking out my hunting knife, I counted the company, and then cut the fish into eight pieces, and gave each man his eighth, and took an equal portion myself. It was right that I should thus act, and it seemed to be a little thing to do, but it was a sermon that led those five men to become Christians. As soon as they had finished their portions they lit their pipes, and as they smoked they talked; and as near as I and my men could make out, here is what they said:

"We must listen with both ears to that Missionary. He is here without food, suffering from hunger, because he stopped to share with us his last meal. We caught a fish, and when we offered him a large piece he refused it, and divided equally with us all. He has been anxious to do us good and to have us to listen to his words. He has not once scolded us for asking him to stop, although he could have got across the lake before the storm arose, and, as the rest of the way is in the river, he could have gone on home. He has shown himself to be our friend, and we must listen to what he has to say." Thus they went on, and I must confess I paid but little attention to what they were saying. After a few hours more the storm went down, and we gladly embarked that evening in our canoe and pushed on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were intensely in earnest and fully decided for Christ. So five more families settled down in the Christian village, and are giving evidence by their lives and conversation that the change wrought in them was real and abiding. Their conversion in this peculiar way was very cheering to us, and it was another lesson to be "instant in season, out of season."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

EXPLORING NEW FIELDS--THE GOSPEL BEFORE TREATIES--BIG TOM'S n.o.bLE SPIRIT OF SELF-SACRIFICE.

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

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

I felt much pleased on receiving this deputation; and as it would give me a grand opportunity to preach the Gospel to a people who had not as yet heard it, I consented to go. With two dog-trains, and accompanied by a couple of trusty Indians, we left the Eastern side of the great Lake Winnipeg about sunrise. We dug a hole in the snow at Pigeon Point, and there made a fire of some dry young willows, and enjoyed our breakfast. From that point we struck out in a south-west direction across the great lake. The day, although cold, was a very bright one.

The ice was good, and our dogs were magnificent fellows; and so we sped along at a rapid rate. We reached a chain of little islands out in the middle of the lake early in the afternoon. On the sh.o.r.e of one of them we gathered some dry wood, cleared away the snow, made a fire, melted some snow, and made ourselves a good kettle of tea. This, with some pemmican and flat cakes, made us a capital dinner.

From this island the western sh.o.r.e of the lake was just visible, over thirty miles away. Towards it we pushed as rapidly as possible, considering that one of our Indians was quite an old man. When within about three miles of the sh.o.r.e, the report of fire-arms reached our ears, telling us that the Indians had observed our coming. Our n.o.ble dogs seemed to rejoice at the sound as much as ourselves, and, well knowing that their day's journey of over sixty miles was nearly ended, changed their swinging trot into a gallop; and very soon we were at Jack head, and among its plumed and painted inhabitants, by whom we were received in a most extraordinary manner.

At some other places where I have gone as the first Missionary who ever visited them, I have had two or three hundred men, women, and children trying to see who could be the first to kiss me; but here the reception was very different. Night was just falling upon us as we drew near the sh.o.r.e, but there was light enough to observe that the narrow trail, up from the lake into the dark recesses of the forest, along which we must pa.s.s with our dog-trains, was lined with men armed with guns.

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

To increase the welcome, they courteously brought out for our special benefit the few English and French words of which they were masters.

Some of them were most ludicrously out of place. It did require a good deal of nerve to keep my face straight when a grave and dignified chief, who wished to inquire politely as to my health, for the moment dropped his own language, and in good English said, "Does your mother know you're out?" I found out afterwards that a roguish fur-trader had taught him the expression, as a very polite one to use to distinguished strangers.

We quickly unharnessed and fed our faithful dogs. We hung up in the trees our sleds and harness beyond the reach of the wolfish curs, which in large numbers prowled around. If they could get the opportunity, they would make short work of the deer-skin and raw-hide fastenings of the sleds, and the harness would entirely disappear, with perhaps the exception of the buckles. We waited until our big dogs had given a few of the most impudent and saucy of these brutes a good thrashing, so that there was some prospect of peace; and then, feeling that our outside work was attended to, and that the Indians had had time to get arranged in their council room, we went to the door, and were ceremoniously ushered in. The council house was a large square log building of much better construction than I had expected to see. It was without part.i.tions, and was lighted by the brilliant council fire, and a number of fish oil lamps hanging from the walls. At the places of honour were seated the chiefs of the band. Their "thrones of state" were curiously woven mats of rushes made by the Indian women. Their head-dresses were gorgeous ma.s.ses of feathers, and their costume was very picturesque.

Some of them had not yet adopted the pantaloons of civilisation, but wore instead the scant leggings of native manufacture.

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

The house was filled, with the exception of a small s.p.a.ce reserved at the right hand of the princ.i.p.al chief for the visitors. With a good deal of ceremony we were escorted to our seats. For me they had obtained a little box, on which a fur robe was placed, as they said afterwards, that they had heard that white men cannot sit comfortably on the ground. On this I seated myself next to the chief, and my attendant Indians ranged themselves beside me. During the profound silence that lasted for several minutes after our entrance, I had a good opportunity to grasp the situation. I breathed an earnest prayer to G.o.d for the much-needed wisdom, and that I might here preach the Gospel in such a way that it might be understood and accepted by this people, the majority of whom had not as yet heard the glad tidings of salvation.

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

When I sat down, the calumet, the pipe of peace, was gravely lit, and after the chief had puffed away at it, he handed it to me. As I have not as yet acquired the art of smoking, I adopted the plan of taking hold of the long stem, which is over a yard in length, by the middle.

The result was that when my hand was near my mouth, the mouthpiece of the pipe was a foot or so behind my head. As previously arranged, one of my obliging Indians was always on hand to do my smoking.

After the pipe ceremony was over, the chief began his address of welcome. He said a good many kind things, and told me of their anxieties as to their future and that of their children. The fire-canoe (the steamboat) was rushing through the waters, destroying their fisheries. The white hunters, with their fire guns and steel traps, were fast killing off the game. The surveyor was driving his lines of stakes into the ground, and the white people, more numerous than mosquitoes, were crowding in on the prairies. They had nothing but peace in their hearts, but still he could not help thinking that a treaty ought to be made with them before the fire canoe or the surveyor came. They were powerless themselves to speak before the Queen's representative, the Governor. They had heard of the Missionary's love for the Indian, and so they had sent across the great Winnipeg for him, and their hearts were glad that he had come. With their right hands they had fired off their guns, which all said, "Welcome!" With his left hand he had handed the pipe of peace, which also from the heart again said, "Welcome!" Their hearts were all glad that with their eyes they saw the Missionary among them. Their ears were now open to hear what he had to say about their future, and what he thought the Queen's men would do for them.

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

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

"Yes," I answered, "I have something more important than the treaty, and something to say about One greater than the Queen, or the Governor she sends; for I must first talk about our great G.o.d, Whom the Queen and we all must love if we would be happy. The Great Spirit, our good Father in heaven, wants to make a treaty with us; and if we will be willing to comply with His conditions, it will be the best treaty ever made, for it will bring us joy and happiness for this life and the life to come."

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