MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE ROLL OVER AGAIN.
One day Rev. Jason Lee came up from the Cascades, in a boat, to visit Mr.
and Mrs. Woods on their donation claim. Mr. Lee at this tine was inspired
with missionary zeal for the Indians, and he remembered Mrs. Woods kindly
as an ignorant but earnest and teachable woman, whom the influence of his
preaching had brought to his spiritual flock. He knew her needs of counsel
and help, he pitied her hard and lonely life, and he came to visit her
from time to time.
He had once given her a copy of Wesley's Hymns, and these hymns she had
unconsciously learned, and delighted to quote on all occasions. Her
favorite hymn in the collection was written by Thomas Olivers, one of
Wesley's coadjutors, beginning--
"The God of Abrah'm praise."
She used to sing it often about her work; and one approaching the cabin,
might often have heard her trying to sing to the old Hebrew melody of
_Leoniel_--a tune perhaps as old as the Jewish Temple itself--such sublime
thoughts as these--
"The God of Abrah'm praise,
At whose supreme command
From earth I rise, and seek the joys
At his right hand;
I all on earth forsake,
Its wisdom, fame, and power;
And him my only portion make,
My shield and tower.
"He by himself hath sworn,
I on his oath depend;
I shall, on eagles' wings upborne,
To heaven ascend:
I shall behold his face,
I shall his power adore,
And sing the wonders of his grace
Forever more."
Another favorite hymn, in an easy metre, was John Wesley's triumphant
review of life in his middle age. The tune, although marked in the
music-books C.P.M., and thus indicating some difficulty, was really as
simple as it was lively, and carried the voice along like the music of a
meadow stream:
"How happy is the pilgrim's lot,
How free from every anxious thought,
From worldly hope and fear!
Confined to neither court nor cell,
His soul disdains on earth to dwell--
He only sojourns here."
Mrs. Woods was singing as usual about her work, when Jason Lee rapped at
her door.
"Father Lee," said Mrs. Woods, "can I trust my eyes!--come again to see
me, away out here in the timber? Well, you are welcome. I have got
something on my mind, and I have long been wanting to have a talk with
you. How is the mission at the Dalles?"
"It is prospering, but I regard it as my duty to leave it and go back to
the East; and this may be my farewell visit, though I expect to come back
again."
"Why, Father Lee, what has changed your mind? You surely can not think it
your duty to leave this great country in the Oregon! You are needed here
if anywhere in this world."
"Yes, but it is on account of this country on the Oregon being great, as
you call it, that I must go away. It was once my calling in life to become
a missionary to the Indians of Oregon, and to see this wonderful land. The
same Voice that called me to that work calls me again to go back to tell
the people of the East of their great opportunity here. I owe it to my
country's future to do this. I have eaten the grapes of a promised land,
and I must return to my own people with the good report. I believe that
the best life of America will yet be here--it seems to be so revealed to
me. My mission was to the Indians; it is now to induce colonies to come to
the Oregon."
"Well, each heart knows its own calling and duty, and none of us are led
alike. Father Lee, Gretchen has been reprovin' me, though she shouldn't,
perhaps, being a girl. She was sassy to me, but she meant well. She is a
well-meanin' girl, though I have to be hard on her sometimes--it is my
duty to be, you know.
"Well, some months ago, more than a year, an Injun ran away with my best
saw, and that gave me a prejudice against the Injuns, I suppose.
Afterward, Young Eagle's Plume--Benjamin, the chief's boy--insulted me
before the school by takin' a stick out of my hand, and I came to dislike
him, and he hates me. There are many Injuns in the timber now, and they
all cast evil looks at me whenever I meet them, and these things hint that
they are goin' to capture me at the Potlatch and carry me away. I hate
Injuns.
"But Gretchen has told me a thing that touches my feelin's. She says that
Benjamin he says that he will protect me on account of his love for the
master; and that, on account of my love for the good Master of us all and
his cause, I ought to show a different spirit toward the Injuns. What do
you think?"
"Gretchen is right, although a girl should be modest with her elders.
Hatred only multiplies itself; when one overcomes his evil passions he
gains others, and loses nothing. Do you see?"
"But I am always good to those I like and those who treat me well. Think
how I used to take care of the sick folk on our way out here, and what I
have tried to do for Gretchen!"
"'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?' All people love
those who love them--the savages do. To give up one's evil desires, and to
help others by returning love for hate, is the true life. The best friends
in the world that we can have are those that we have drawn to our hearts
by forgiveness. Do something good to every Indian that hates you, and you
will never be carried away captive."
"But Whitman, remember Whitman: he showed the right spirit, and the Injuns
killed _him_!"
"His death was caused by a misapprehension, and it made him a martyr. His
work lives. Men live in their work."
"Well, Father Lee, if Benjamin can overcome his evil feelin's for his
master, I ought to do so for mine, as Gretchen says. My bad spirit in this
matter has long troubled me; it has caused a cloud to come over me when
singin' hymns. I will give it all up now--I will give up everything, and
just follow the better spirit. I want to do right, so that I can sing
hymns."
When Father Lee left the cabin, Mrs. Woods accompanied him to his boat on
the river.
As they were passing along under the tall spruces whose tops glimmered in
the sun, and whose cool shadows made the trail delightful and refreshing,
a black she-bear suddenly rose up before them, and a cub started up by her
side. The great bear and the little bear both stood on their haunches,
with their fore-feet outstretched like arms, as in great surprise. Mrs.
Woods stopped and threw up her arms, and Parson Lee drew back.
Mrs. Woods looked at the little bear, and the little bear at her.
"Roll over, roll over!" she suddenly exclaimed. A strange event followed,
very strange indeed in the eyes of the startled missionary. The little
bear rolled itself into a ball, and began to turn over and over, and to
come toward them in its somersaults.
The mother bear made a peculiar noise, dropped upon her four feet and ran
off into the timber; and the little one, hearing the noise and movement,
leaped up and followed her.
"What _does_ that mean?" asked the missionary, in astonishment.
"That is Little Roll Over. I taught him that trick myself. He was once a
pet of mine, and he ran away."
"Extraordinary!" said the missionary; "and it seems to me, if you have
such a good influence over bears, you might do a great deal of good among
the Indians."
"And I will," said Mrs. Woods. "I mean to live so I can sing hymns, and
feel right about it."
On the return home, Mrs. Woods looked everywhere for her pet bear. She did
not fear the old bear, for these animals are generally harmless if
unmolested. She called, "Roll Over! Roll Over!" when she came to the place
where she had had the adventure. But there was no answer except from the
blue jays that piped out their shrill call in the tall trees.
Mrs. Woods came home to have a long battle with herself. Her idea of
happiness seemed to be the freedom to sing hymns with a clear conscience,
and the poor pioneer woman's philosophy was not very far from right.