AN INDIAN RESERVE
I felt that I could not leave Canada without seeing an Indian Reserve. I
had met Miss A., the headmistress of the Christian boarding school at
Punnichy, so I wrote to her asking if I might pay a flying visit to the
Reserve, and received a warm invitation. I left Regina at 9.30 p.m. and
did not arrive at Punnichy till next morning at 6.30. I travelled with a
large number of Doukhobors, extraordinary people who talk a most curious
language. They come from southern Russia, and are a religious sect. They
live in communities, having everything in common, even wives. The women
wear picturesque clothes--a coloured handkerchief over their heads and
another over their shoulders, with a very full short skirt. I noticed
that the train inspector seemed uneasy at my being in their compartment,
and soon moved me to another one. But I had to remain an hour with them
in the waiting-room at Saskatchewan, and they seemed quite harmless and
were interesting to watch.
I was met by a Mrs. T., who drove me in her own car up to the Reserve. I
found that she had nursed in France during the War, had had shell shock,
and had received the Royal Red Cross. Her husband was the headmaster of
the day school on the Reserve. She had found that the Indians were
without a nurse of any kind, and so she was giving her services in that
capacity and had her hands full. She had even bought a car in order to
get round the Reserve. There was a great deal of sickness, the Indians
being very tubercular now, and there was much infant mortality. Mrs. T.
said that she badly needed another nurse to help her. She was then on
her way to the school to help the doctor operate on a good many children
for adenoids and tonsils, but it would be a case of "first catch your
hare," as the patients always fled into the bush on these occasions.
Miss A. and her father, the chaplain on the Reserve, received me very
kindly. After breakfast I was asked to give the children a Scripture
lesson. They were bright, attractive children, but not nearly so quick
as the British children. They knew a great deal, however, having been
well taught. It seemed very sad that our British children had been so
neglected that they knew less about the Bible than these Indian children
did. I bought some of the beautiful moccasins and bead chains which they
make on the Reserve. The mother of one of the pupils had made the
Bishop's mitre all out of beads.
Outside the school-house there was a poor little boy lying on a
mattress, the other children entertaining him with picture books. I
asked what was the matter with him, and was told that he had broken his
leg and the witch-doctors had essayed to cure it, doing him great harm.
But he was now getting well under proper supervision. We had meals with
the Indian children, in a nice family way. They talked good English, of
course, having been in the school for several years. The _raison d'etre_
of the boarding school is to give the children a good standard of
living. When they attend a day school they have to live at home in the
dirty hovels, which undoes much of the civilising influence they have
received. When they are old enough the boys are trained to work on the
school farm, under the management of Mr. A. I was shown the beautiful
little church, but was saddened to see the many little wooden crosses
marking the babies' graves. We saw some fine Indian men, looking quaint
with their long braided hair and big shady hats. They are being trained
to farm work, at which they prove most efficient. I should have liked
to have seen the Indian warriors in war paint, but this is seldom
allowed by the Government now as it is found to have such an exciting
effect on them. There had been a display of the Hudson Bay Company at
Winnipeg in the May of that year, but I was not able to go.
There was something singularly tragic in the sight of these people,
disinherited, and suffering from diseases which they never knew in their
old free life. It is one of those great injustices for which there seems
to be no remedy.
I remained for evening prayer, and was asked by Mr. A. to give the
address. I told the story of St. Christopher, which seemed to be much
appreciated. Then I caught a night train and got back to Regina next
morning.