Rev. Egerton R. Young says of the Canadian Indians among whom he worked:
Often I have been made ashamed of the littleness of my love
by the devotion of these Indians and their love for the
Bible. One of our Indians came with his son from the distant
hunting-grounds to fish on the shores of our Great Lakes,
gathering their supplies for the winter. “My son,” said the
father, “we leave for home to-morrow morning early; put the
Book of Heaven in your pack.” So the young man put it in, and
after doing so, an uncle came and said, “Nephew, lend me the
Book of Heaven that I may read a little. I have loaned mine.”
So the pack was opened and the Bible taken out, and the uncle
put it on the blankets after finishing with it, instead of into
the pack. The next morning the father and son strapped on their
snow-shoes and walked thirty-five miles toward home, dug a hole
in the snow at night, cooked some rabbits, had their prayers and
lay down and slept. The next morning after prayers they pushed
on thirty-five miles more, and made their home. That night the
father said, “We are home now in our wigwam. Son, give me the
Book of Heaven, that the mother and the rest may read the word
and have prayers.” They searched for the book, but it was not in
the pack and the son told of his uncle’s request to borrow it.
The father was disappointed, but said little. The next morning
he arose early, put a few cooked rabbits in his pack and started
off. That day he walked seventy-five miles, found his precious
book and returned the whole distance the following day, having
walked in snow-shoes one hundred and fifty miles through the
wild forest of the north-west to regain his copy of the Word of
God! (Text.)
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