The book--this holy book, on every line
Mark'd with the seal of high divinity,
On every leaf bedew'd with drops of love
Divine, and with the eternal heraldry
And signature of God Almighty stampt
From first to last--this ray of sacred light,
This lamp, from off the everlasting throne,
Mercy took down, and, in the night of time
Stood, casting on the dark her gracious bow;
And evermore beseeching men, with tears
And earnest sighs, to read, believe, and live;
And many to her voice gave ear, and read,
Believed, obey'd.
--_Pollok._
Having heard the early explorers speak of God, the Bible, and
religion, and knowing that on Sundays the flag was raised and
work suspended, the Indians wanted to know more about these
things, and two chiefs, Hee-oh'ks-te-kin (Rabbit-skin Leggins)
and H'co-a-h'co-a-cotes-min (No-horns-on-his-Head) set out to find
the white missionaries who could inform their troubled minds.
They did not reach Saint Louis until 1832, where they found General
Clark, whom they had known. The messengers were of the Nez Perce
tribe. General Clark took them to the cathedral and showed them the
pictures of the saints and entertained them in the best and most
approved Christian style; but they were heart-hungry and went home
dissatisfied. One of them made the following speech to the kindly
soldier, General Clark:
"I came to you over a trail of many moons from the setting sun. You
were the friend of my fathers who have all gone the long way. I came
with one eye partly opened, for more light for my people who sit in
darkness. I go back with both eyes closed. How can I go back with both
eyes closed? How can I go back blind to my blind people? I made my way
to you with strong arms, through many enemies and strange lands, that
I might carry much back to them. I go back with both arms broken and
empty. The two fathers who came with us--the braves of many winters
and wars--we leave asleep by your great water and wigwam.[2] They were
tired in many moons, and their moccasins wore out. My people sent me
to get the white man's Book of heaven. You took me where you allow
your women to dance, as we do not ours, and the Book was not there;
you showed me the images of the good spirits and the pictures of the
good land beyond, but the Book was not among them to tell us the way.
I am going back the long, sad trail to my people of the dark land. You
make my feet heavy with the burden of gifts, and my moccasins will
grow old in carrying them, but the Book is not among them. When I tell
my poor, blind people, after one more snow, in the big council, that I
did not bring the Book, no word will be spoken by our old men or our
young braves. One by one they will rise up and go out in silence. My
people will die in darkness, and they will go on the long path to the
other hunting grounds. No white man will go with them and no white
man's Book will make the way plain. I have no more words."
It was the rumor of this address that started Jason Lee and Marcus
Whitman westward over the old Trail.
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[2] Four of their number had died, and only one reached home.