For the last time but one, during their holidays, Austin and his
brothers set off, with a long afternoon before them, to listen to the
hunter's account of the proceedings of the missionaries among the
Indians. On this occasion, they paid another visit to the Red
Sand-stone Rock by the river, the place where they first met with
their friend, the hunter. Here they recalled to mind all the
circumstances which had taken place at that spot, and agreed that the
hunter, in saving their lives by his timely warning, and afterwards
adding so much as he had done to their information and pleasure, had
been to them one of the best friends they had ever known. With very
friendly and grateful feelings towards him, they hastened to the
cottage, when the Indians, as usual, became the subject of their
conversation. "And now," said Austin, "we are quite ready to hear
about the missionaries."
_Hunter._ Let me speak a word or two about the Indians, before I begin
my account. You remember that I told you of the Mandans.
_Austin._ Yes. Mah-to-toh-pa was a Mandan, with his fine robes and
war-eagle head-dress. The rain-makers were Mandans; also the young
warriors, who went through so many tortures in the mystery lodge.
_Hunter._ Well, I must now tell you a sad truth. After I left the
Mandans, great changes came upon them; and, at the present time,
hardly a single Mandan is alive.
_Austin._ Dreadful! But how was it? What brought it all about?
_Brian._ You should have told us this before.
_Hunter._ No. I preferred to tell you first of the people as they were
when I was with them. You may remember my observation, in one of your
early visits, that great changes had taken place among them; that the
tomahawks of the stronger tribes had thinned the others; that many had
sold their lands to the whites, and retired to the west of the
Mississippi; and that thousands had fallen a prey to the small-pox. It
was in the year 1838 that this dreadful disease was introduced among
the Mandans, and other tribes of the fur-traders. Of the Blackfeet,
Crows and two or three other tribes, twenty-five thousand perished;
but of the poor Mandans, the whole tribe was destroyed.
_Brian._ Why did they not get a doctor; or go out of their village to
the wide prairie, that one might not catch the disease from another?
_Hunter._ Doctors were too far off; and the ravages of the disease
were so swift that it swept them all away in a few months. Their
mystery men could not help them; and their enemies, the Sioux, had
war-parties round their village, so that they could not go out to the
wide prairie. There they were, dying fast in their village; and little
else was heard, during day or night, but wailing, howling and crying
to the Great Spirit to relieve them.
_Austin._ And did Mah-to-toh-pa, "the four bears," die too?
_Hunter._ Yes. For, though he recovered from the disease, he could not
bear up against the loss of his wives and his children. They all died
before his eyes, and he piled them together in his lodge, and covered
them with robes. His braves and his warriors died, and life had no
charms for him; for who was to share with him his joy or his grief? He
retired from his wigwam, and fasted six days, lamenting the
destruction of his tribe. He then crawled back to his own lodge, laid
himself by his dead family, covered himself with a robe, and died like
an Indian chief. This is a melancholy picture; and when I first heard
of the terrible event, I could have wept.
_Austin._ It was indeed a terrible affair. Have they no good doctors
among the Indians now? Why do they not send for doctors who know how
to cure the small-pox, instead of those juggling mystery men?
_Hunter._ Many attempts have been made to introduce vaccination among
the tribes; but their jealousy and want of confidence in white men,
who have so much wronged them, and their attachment to their own
customs and superstitions, have prevented those attempts from being
very successful.
_Austin._ Who was the first missionary who went among the Indians?
_Hunter._ I believe the first Indian missionary was John Eliot. More
than two hundred years ago, a body of pious Englishmen left their
native land, because they were not allowed peaceably to serve God
according to their consciences. They landed in America, having
obtained a grant of land there. They are sometimes called "Puritans,"
and sometimes "the Pilgrim Fathers." It is certain, that, whatever
were their peculiarities, and by whatever names they were known, the
fear of God and the love of mankind animated their hearts.
These men did not seize the possessions of the Indians, because they
had arms and skill to use them. But they entered into a treaty with
them for the purchase of their lands, and paid them what they were
satisfied to receive. It is true, that what the white man gave in
exchange was of little value to him. But the Indians prized trinkets
more than they would gold and silver, and they only wanted hunting
and fishing grounds for their own use. These early colonists, seeing
that the Indians were living in idleness, cruelty and superstition,
were desirous to instruct them in useful arts, and still more in the
fear of the Lord; and John Eliot, who had left England to join his
religious friends in America, was the first Protestant missionary
among the Indians.
_Austin._ I wonder he was not afraid of going among them.
_Hunter._ He that truly fears God has no need to fear danger in the
path of duty. John Eliot had three good motives that girded his loins
and strengthened his heart: the first, was the glory of God, in the
conversion of the poor Indians; the second, was his love of mankind,
and pity for such as were ignorant of true religion; and the third,
was his desire that the promise of his friends to spread the gospel
among the Indians should be fulfilled. It was no light task that he
had undertaken, as I will prove to you. I dare say, that you have not
quite forgotten all the long names that I gave you.
_Austin._ I remember your telling us of them; and I suppose they are
the longest words in the world.
_Hunter._ I will now give you two words in one of the languages that
John Eliot had to learn, and then, perhaps, you will alter your
opinion. The first of them is _noorromantammoonkanunonnash_, which
means, "our loves;" and the second, or "our questions," is
_kummogokdonattoottammoctiteaongannunnonash_.
_Austin._ Why that last word would reach all across one of our
copy-books.
_Basil._ You had better learn those two words, Austin, to begin with.
_Brian._ Ay, do, Austin; if you have many such when you go among the
red men, you must sit up at night to learn what you have to speak in
the day-time.
_Austin._ No, no; I have settled all that. I mean to have an
interpreter with me; one who knows every thing. Please to tell us a
little more about Eliot.
_Hunter._ I will. An author says, speaking of missionaries, "As I hold
the highest title on earth to be that of a servant of God, and the
most important employment that of making known to sinners the
salvation that God has wrought for them, through his Son Jesus Christ;
so I cannot but estimate very highly the character of an humble,
zealous, conscientious missionary. Men undertake, endure and achieve
much when riches and honours and reputation are to be attained; but
where is the worldly reputation of him who goes, with his life in his
hand, to make known to barbarous lands the glad tidings of salvation?
Where are the honours and the money bags of the missionary? In many
cases, toil and anxiety, hunger and thirst, reviling and violence,
danger and death await him; but where is his earthly reward?" Eliot's
labours were incessant; translating not only the commandments, the
Lord's prayer and many parts of Scripture into the Indian languages,
but also the whole Bible. For days together he travelled from place
to place, wet to the skin, wringing the wet from his stockings at
night. Sometimes he was treated cruelly by the sachems, (principal
chiefs,) sagamores, (lesser chiefs,) and powaws, (conjurers, or
mystery men;) but though they thrust him out, and threatened his life,
he held on his course, telling them that he was in the service of the
Great God, and feared them not. So highly did they think of his
services in England, that a book was printed, called "The
Day-breaking, if not the Sun-rising of the Gospel with the Indians in
New-England;" and another, entitled "The Clear Sunshine of the Gospel
breaking forth upon the Indians;" and dedicated to the parliament; in
order that assistance and encouragement might be given him. At the
close of a grammar, published by him, he wrote the words, "Prayers and
pains, through faith in Christ Jesus, will do any thing."
_Brian._ I should think that he was one of the best of men.
_Hunter._ He instituted schools, and devoted himself to the Christian
course he had undertaken with an humble and ardent spirit, until old
age and increasing infirmities rendered him too feeble to do as he had
done before. Even then, he catechised the negro slaves in the
neighbourhood around him; and took a poor blind boy home to his own
house, that he might teach him to commit to memory some of the
chapters in the Bible. Among the last expressions that dropped from
his lips were the words, "Welcome joy! Pray! pray! pray!" This was in
the eighty-sixth year of his age. No wonder he should even now be
remembered by us as "the apostle of the Indians."
_Basil._ I am very glad that you told us about him. What a good old
man he must have been when he died!
_Hunter._ You will find an interesting history of Eliot in your
Sunday-school Library, and the Life of Brainerd[5] also, of whom I
will tell you a few things. But I advise you to read both books, for
such short remarks as I make cannot be distinctly remembered; and the
characters of these eminent men you will only understand by reading
the history of their lives.
[Footnote 5: Both these works are published by the American
Sunday-school Union.]
_Austin._ We will remember this.
_Hunter._ There were many good men, after his death, who trod as
closely as they could in his steps: but I must not stop to dwell upon
them. David Brainerd, however, must not be passed by: he was a truly
humble and zealous servant of the Most High. You may judge, in some
degree, of his interest in the Indians by the following extract from
his diary:
_June 26._ "In the morning, my desire seemed to rise, and ascend up
freely to God. Was busy most of the day in translating prayers into
the language of the Delaware Indians; met with great difficulty,
because my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the business.
But though I was much discouraged with the extreme difficulty of that
work, yet God supported me; and, especially in the evening, gave me
sweet refreshment. In prayer my soul was enlarged, and my faith drawn
into sensible exercise; was enabled to cry to God for my poor Indians;
and though the work of their conversion appeared _impossible with
man_, yet _with God_ I saw _all things were possible_. My faith was
much strengthened, by observing the wonderful assistance God afforded
his servants Nehemiah and Ezra, in reforming his people and
re-establishing his ancient church. I was much assisted in prayer for
my dear Christian friends, and for others whom I apprehended to be
Christ-less; but was more especially concerned for the poor heathen,
and those of my own charge; was enabled to be instant in prayer for
them; and hoped that God would bow the heavens and come down for their
salvation. It seemed to me, that there could be no impediment
sufficient to obstruct that glorious work, seeing the living God, as I
strongly hoped, was engaged for it. I continued in a solemn frame,
lifting up my heart to God for assistance and grace, that I might be
more mortified to this present world, that my whole soul might be
taken up continually in concern for the advancement of Christ's
kingdom. Earnestly desired that God would purge me more, that I might
be a chosen vessel to bear his name among the heathens. Continued in
this frame till I fell asleep."
_Brian._ Why, he was much such a man as Eliot.
_Hunter._ Both Eliot and Brainerd did a great deal of good among the
Indians. The language of Brainerd was, "Here am I, Lord, send me;
send me to the ends of the earth; send me to the rough, the savage
pagans of the wilderness; send me from all that is called comfort on
earth; send me even to death itself, if it be but in thy service, and
to extend thy kingdom."
_Brian._ I hardly know whether Eliot was the best man, or Brainerd.
_Hunter._ They were very unlike in one thing; for Eliot lived till he
was eighty-six years old; whereas Brainerd died in the thirtieth year
of his age. But though so young, it is said of him, by a learned and
good man, "The Life and Diary of David Brainerd exhibits a perfect
pattern of the qualities which should distinguish the instructor of
rude and barbarous tribes; the most invincible patience and
self-denial, the profoundest humility, exquisite prudence,
indefatigable industry, and such a devotedness to God, or rather such
an absorption of the whole soul in zeal for the Divine glory and the
salvation of men, as is scarcely to be paralleled since the age of the
apostles."
_Brian._ Then, he was as good a man as Eliot.
_Hunter._ You will read his life surely, after all you have heard
about the Indians, and will be surprised at his great success among
them. I will read you an extract from a letter written in those days
by some Oneida chiefs, by which you will see that the labours of these
good men were not in vain.
"The holy word of Jesus has got place amongst us, and advances. Many
have lately forsaken their sins, to appearance, and turned to God.
There are some among us who are very stubborn and strong; but Jesus is
almighty, and has all strength, and his holy word is very strong, too:
therefore we hope it will conquer and succeed more and more. We say no
more; only we ask our fathers to pray for us, though they are at a
great distance. Perhaps, by-and-by, through the strength and mercy of
Jesus, we shall meet in his kingdom above. Farewell.
TAGAWAROW, _chief of the Bear tribe_.
SUGHNAGEAROT, _chief of the Wolf tribe_.
OJEKHETA, _chief of the Turtle tribe_."
_Austin._ Why, they were all three of them chiefs!
_Hunter._ The speech made by the chief, Little Turtle, at Baltimore,
on his way to see the President of the United States, will interest
you. Some Quakers, who saw him, told him that the habit among his
tribe of drinking rum prevented them from doing them good.
"Brothers and friends--When your forefathers first met on this island,
your red brethren were very numerous; but, since the introduction
amongst us of what you call spirituous liquors, and what we think may
justly be called poison, our numbers are greatly diminished. It has
destroyed a great part of your red brethren.
"My friends and brothers--We plainly perceive that you see the very
evil which destroys your red brethren. It is not an evil of our own
making. We have not placed it amongst ourselves; it is an evil placed
amongst us by the white people; we look to them to remove it out of
the country. We tell them, 'Brethren, fetch us useful things: bring
us goods that will clothe us, our women, and our children; and not
this evil liquor, that destroys our health, that destroys our reason,
that destroys our lives.' But all that we can say on this subject is
of no service, nor gives relief to your red brethren.
"My friends and brothers--I rejoice to find that you agree in opinion
with us, and express an anxiety to be, if possible, of service to us,
in removing this great evil out of our country; an evil which has had
so much room in it, and has destroyed so many of our lives, that it
causes our young men to say, 'We had better be at war with the white
people. This liquor, which they introduced into our country, is more
to be feared than the gun or tomahawk.' There are more of us dead
since the treaty of Greeneville, than we lost by the six years' war
before. It is all owing to the introduction of this liquor among us.
"Brothers--When our young men have been out hunting, and are returning
home loaded with skins and furs, on their way, if it happens that they
come where this whiskey is deposited, the white man who sells it tells
them to take a little drink. Some of them will say, 'No; I do not want
it.' They go on till they come to another house, where they find more
of the same kind of drink. It is there offered again; they refuse; and
again the third time: but, finally, the fourth or fifth time, one
accepts of it, and takes a drink, and getting one he wants another,
and then a third, and fourth, till his senses have left him. After
his reason comes back to him, when he gets up and finds where he is,
he asks for his peltry. The answer is, 'You have drunk them.' 'Where
is my gun?' 'It is gone.' 'Where is my blanket?' 'It is gone.' 'Where
is my shirt?' 'You have sold it for whiskey!' Now, brothers, figure to
yourselves what condition this man must be in. He has a family at
home; a wife and children who stand in need of the profits of his
hunting. What must be their wants, when even he himself is without a
shirt?"
_Austin._ There is a great deal of good sense in what Little Turtle
said.
_Hunter._ The war between England and America made sad confusion among
the Indians, and the missionaries too; for it was reported that the
missionaries were joining the French against the English, so that they
and the Indian converts were dreadfully persecuted.
Colonel de Peyster, who was then the English governor at Fort Detroit,
suspected the Christian Indians of being partisans of the Americans,
and the missionaries of being spies; and he wished the Indians
favourable to him to carry them all off. Captain Pipe, a Delaware
chief, persuaded the half king of the Hurons to force them away.
Persecution went on, till the missionaries, seeing that no other
course remained, they being plundered without mercy, and their lives
threatened, consented to emigrate. They were thus compelled to quit
their pleasant settlement, escorted by a troop of savages headed by an
English officer. The half king of the Hurons went with them. But I
will read you an account of what took place after they reached
Sandusky Creek. "Having arrived at Sandusky Creek, after a journey of
upwards of four weeks, the half king of the Hurons and his warriors
left them, and marched into their own country, without giving them any
particular orders how to proceed. Thus they were abandoned in a
wilderness where there was neither game nor provisions of any kind;
such was the place to which the barbarians had led them,
notwithstanding they had represented it as a perfect paradise. After
wandering to and fro for some time, they resolved to spend the winter
in Upper Sandusky; and, having pitched on the most convenient spot
they could find in this dreary region, they erected small huts of logs
and bark, to shelter themselves from the rain and cold. They were now,
however, so poor, that they had neither beds nor blankets; for, on the
journey, the savages had stolen every thing from them, except only
their utensils for manufacturing maple sugar. But nothing distressed
them so much as the want of provisions. Some had long spent their all,
and now depended on the charity of their neighbours for a morsel to
eat. Even the missionaries, who hitherto had uniformly gained a
livelihood by the labour of their hands, were now reduced to the
necessity of receiving support from the congregation. As their wants
were so urgent, Shebosh the missionary, and several of the Christian
Indians, returned, as soon as possible, to their settlements on the
Muskingum, to fetch the Indian corn which they had left growing in the
fields.
"Scarcely had the congregation begun to settle in Sandusky, when the
missionaries were ordered to go and appear before the governor of Fort
Detroit. Four of them, accompanied by several of the Indian
assistants, accordingly set off without delay, while the other two
remained with their little flock. On taking their departure, they
experienced the most agonizing sensations: partly, as they knew not
what might be the issue of the journey; and partly, as they were
obliged to leave their families in want of the common necessaries of
life. As they travelled chiefly by land, along the banks of Lake Erie,
they had to pass through numerous swamps, over large inundated plains,
and through thick forests. But the most painful circumstance was,
their hearing that some of the Indians, who had gone to Muskingum to
fetch corn, had been murdered by the white people; and that a large
body of these miscreants were marching to Sandusky, to surprise the
new settlement. This report, indeed, was not correct. Shebosh, the
missionary, and five of the Christian Indians were, it is true, taken
prisoners at Shoenbrunn and carried to Pittsburg. The others returned
safe to Sandusky, with about four hundred bushels of Indian corn,
which they had gathered in the fields. But as the travellers did not
hear a correct statement of these circumstances until afterwards, they
suffered meanwhile the greatest anxiety and distress.
"Having arrived at Detroit, they appeared before the governor, in
order to answer the accusations brought against them, of holding a
correspondence with the Americans, to the prejudice of the English
interest. The investigation, however, was deferred till Captain Pipe,
their principal accuser, should arrive. A circumstance which could not
but give them much uneasiness, as he had hitherto shown himself their
bitter and determined enemy. They had no friend on earth to interpose
in their behalf; but they had a Friend in heaven, in whom they put
their trust: nor was their confidence in Him in vain. On the day of
trial, Captain Pipe, after some ceremonies had passed between him and
Colonel de Peyster, respecting the scalps and prisoners which he had
brought from the United States, rose and addressed the governor as
follows:--'Father--You commanded us to bring the believing Indians and
their teachers from the Muskingum. This has been done. When we had
brought them to Sandusky, you ordered us to bring their teachers and
some of their chiefs unto you. Here you see them before you. Now you
may speak with them yourself, as you have desired. But I hope you will
speak good words unto them: yea, I tell you, speak good words unto
them; for they are my friends, and I should be sorry to see them ill
used.' These last words he repeated two or three times. In reply to
this speech, the governor enumerated the various complaints he had
made against the brethren, and called upon him to prove that they had
actually corresponded with the Americans, to the prejudice of the
English. To this the chief replied, that such a thing might have
happened; but they would do it no more, for they were now at Detroit.
The governor, justly dissatisfied with this answer, peremptorily
demanded that he should give a direct reply to his question. Pipe was
now greatly embarrassed; and, bending to his counsellors, asked them
what he should say. But they all hung their heads in silence. On a
sudden, however, he rose, and thus addressed the governor:--'I said
before that such a thing might have happened; now I will tell you the
truth. The missionaries are innocent. They have done nothing of
themselves; what they did, they were compelled to do.' Then, smiting
his breast, he added: 'I am to blame, and the chiefs who were with me.
We forced them to do it when they refused;' alluding to the
correspondence between the Delaware chiefs and the Americans, of which
the missionaries were the innocent medium. Thus the brethren found an
advocate and a friend in their accuser and enemy.
"After making some further inquiries, the governor declared, before
the whole camp, that the brethren were innocent of all the charges
alleged against them; that he felt great satisfaction in their
endeavours to civilize and Christianize the Indians; and that he would
permit them to return to their congregation without delay. He even
offered them the use of his own house, in the most friendly manner;
and as they had been plundered, contrary to his express command, he
ordered them to be supplied with clothes, and various other articles
of which they stood in need. He even bought the four watches which the
savages had taken from them and sold to a trader. After experiencing
various other acts of kindness from him they returned to Sandusky, and
were received with inexpressible joy by their families and the whole
congregation."
_Austin._ Well, I am glad it has all ended so happily. Captain Pipe
and Colonel de Peyster acted an unworthy part, to suspect the
missionaries.
_Brian._ They did; but the colonel declared before the whole camp that
they were innocent. That was making some amends for his suspicions.
_Basil._ Captain Pipe ought to have been ashamed of himself.
_Hunter._ The missionaries went through various trials, and nearly a
hundred Christian Indians--men, women and children--were cruelly
slaughtered; but afterwards the missions began to wear a more
prosperous appearance. I have now kept you longer than usual. The next
time you come here, I will finish my missionary account. Though among
the tribes near the whites great changes have taken place, yet, among
the Indians of the far-west, their customs are but little altered.
They join in the buffalo hunt, assemble in the war-party, engage in
their accustomed games, and smoke the pipe of peace, the same as
ever.
[Illustration: Missionary and Indians.]