NELSON RIVER--A DEMONSTRATIVE WELCOME--FIRST RELIGIOUS SERVICE--A FOUR
HOURS' SERMON--THE CHIEF'S ELOQUENT REPLY--THE OLD MAN WITH
GRANDCHILDREN IN HIS WIGWAM--"OUR FATHER"--"THEN WE ARE
BROTHERS"--"YES"--"THEN WHY IS THE WHITE BROTHER SO LONG TIME IN COMING
WITH THE GOSPEL TO HIS RED BROTHER?"--GLORIOUS SUCCESSES.
It was at my second visit to Nelson River that the work really
commenced. Through some unforeseen difficulty at the first visit, many
of the natives were away. Hunting is even at the best a precarious mode
of obtaining a livelihood. Then, as the movements of the herds of deer,
upon the flesh of which many of these Indians subsist for the greater
part of the year, are very erratic, it is often difficult to arrange for
a place of meeting, where food can be obtained in sufficient abundance
while the religious services are being held.
It used to be very discouraging, after having travelled for several days
together, either by canoe in summer, or dog-trains in winter, to reach a
certain place which had been arranged for meeting, and find very few
present. The deer, and other animals on which they had expected to
live, had gone in another direction, and the Indians had been obliged to
follow them.
Everything, however, favoured us on our second visit. We found over
fifty families camped at the place of meeting, and full of curiosity to
see the Missionary. They had all sorts of strange notions in their
minds. When Mr Rundle, of the English Wesleyan Church, first went
among some of the wild tribes of the great Saskatchewan country, with
his open Bible, preaching the wonderful Gospel truths, great was the
excitement of the people to know where this strange man had come from.
So a great council was summoned, and the conjurers were ordered to find
out all about it. After a great deal of drumming and dreaming and
conjuring, they gravely reported that this strange man with his
wonderful book had been wrapped up in an envelope, and had come down
from the Great Spirit on a rainbow!
The Nelson River Indians welcomed me very cordially, and were much more
demonstrative in their greetings than were any of the other tribes I had
visited, although I had had my share of strange welcomes. Here the
custom of handshaking was but little known, but the more ancient one of
kissing prevailed. Great indeed was my amazement when I found myself
surrounded by two hundred and fifty or three hundred wild Indians, men,
women, and children, whose faces seemed in blissful ignorance of soap
and water, but all waiting to kiss me. I felt unable to stand the
ordeal, and so I managed to put them off with a shake of the hand, and a
kind word or two.
At eight o'clock the next morning we called the Indians together for the
first public religious service which most of them had ever attended.
They were intensely interested. My Christian Indians from Norway House
aided me in the opening services, and, being sweet singers, added very
much to the interest. We sang several hymns, read a couple of lessons
from the Bible, and engaged in prayer. At about nine o'clock I read as
my text those sublime words: "For God so loved the world, that He gave
His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life."
They listened with the most enrapt attention, while for four hours I
talked to them of some of the truths of this glorious verse. They had
never heard a sermon before; they were ignorant of the simplest truths
of our blessed Christianity; and so I had to make everything plain and
clear as I went along. I could not take anything for granted with that
audience. So I had to take them back to the Creation and Fall. Then I
spoke of God's love in providence and grace; and of His greatest act of
love, the gift of His only begotten beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ,
Who died that we might live. I dwelt on the benefits which come to us
from the personal acceptance of this Saviour. I tried hard to show how
we, who had wandered so far away, were invited back to actual adoption
into God's great family, as a conscious reality. I spoke of the
universality and impartiality of God's love; of His willingness to
receive all, to fill our hearts with joy and peace, to comfort us all
through life, to sustain us in death, and then to take us to everlasting
life in a world of light and glory.
The ever-blessed Spirit most graciously applied the truth, as I tried,
in the simplest and plainest way, to bring it down to their
comprehension. The attention they gave showed that my words were being
understood. Their bright eyes glistened and at times were suffused with
tears, and as I closed the long-pent-up silence gave place to loud
exclamations of delight.
Then we translated into their language and sang part of the good old
hymn:--
"O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer's praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!"
Again we bowed in prayer, and, at my request, they repeated after me all
the petitions which in short easy sentences we offered up to Him Who is
the Hearer and Answerer of prayer. A spirit of awe and solemnity seemed
to rest upon us. It was the first time the great majority had ever
attempted to pray in the Name of Jesus, and I felt a sweet assurance
that those simple petitions, from the hearts and lips of those poor
Indians, were not despised by Him Whose great heart of love beats so
true to all. After prayer I requested them all to again seat themselves
on the ground, as I wished to hear from them about these great truths
which I had come so far to tell them of. I wanted to know what were
their wishes and determinations about becoming Christians. When I had
finished, every eye turned towards the principal chief, as these
Indians, like the other tribes, have their unwritten laws of precedence.
He rose up from his place among his people, and, coming near me on my
right hand, he made one of the most thrilling addresses I ever heard.
Years have passed away since that hour, and yet the memory of that tall,
straight, impassioned Indian is as vivid as ever. His actions were
many, but all were graceful. His voice was particularly fine and full
of pathos, for he spoke from his heart. Here is the bare outline of his
speech, as, with my interpreter to aid me, I shortly afterwards wrote it
down.
"Missionary, I have long lost faith in our old paganism." Then pointing
down to the outer edge of the audience, where some old conjurers and
medicine men were seated, he said, "They know I have not cared for our
old religion. I have neglected it. And I will tell you, Missionary,
why I have not believed in our old paganism for a long time. I hear God
in the thunder, in the tempest, and in the storm; I see His power in the
lightning that shivers the tree into kindling wood; I see His goodness
in giving us the moose, the reindeer, the beaver, and the bear; I see
His loving-kindness in giving us, when the south winds blow, the ducks
and geese; and when the snow and ice melt away, and our lakes and rivers
are open again, I see how He fills them with fish. I have watched these
things for years, and I see how during every moon of the year He gives
us something; and so He has arranged it, that if we are only industrious
and careful, we can always have something to eat. So thinking about
these things which I had observed, I made up my mind years ago, that
this Great Spirit, so kind and so watchful and so loving, did not care
for the beating of the conjurer's drum, or the shaking of the rattle of
the medicine man. So I for years have had no religion."
Then turning towards me and looking me in the face, he said, in tones
that thrilled me, "Missionary, what you have said to-day fills up my
heart and satisfies all its longings. It is just what I have been
expecting to hear about the Great Spirit. I am so glad you have come
with this wonderful story. Stay as long as you can; and when you have
to go away, do not forget us, but come again as soon as you can."
Loud expressions of approval greeted these words of the chief. When he
had finished, I said, "I want to hear from others, and I want your own
views on these important things." Many responded to my request, and,
with the exception of an old conjurer or two, who feared for their
occupation, all spoke in the same strain as did the head chief. The
last to speak was an old man with grizzly hair, and wild, excited
movements. He was a queer, savage-looking man, and came from the rear
of the company to the front with strange springy movements. His hair
was braided, and reached to his knees. Threading his way through the
audience, he came up close to me, and then, pushing his fingers into his
hair as far as its braided condition would allow, he exclaimed in a tone
full of earnestness, "Missionary, once my hair was as black as a crow's
wing, now it is getting white. Grey hairs here, and grandchildren in
the wigwam, tell me that I am getting to be an old man; and yet I never
before heard such things as you have told us to-day. I am so glad I did
not die before I heard this wonderful story. Yet I am getting old.
Grey hairs here, and grandchildren yonder, tell the story. Stay as long
as you can, Missionary, tell us much of these things, and when you have
to go away, come back soon, for I have grandchildren, and I have grey
hairs, and may not live many winters more. Do come back soon."
He turned as though he would go back to his place and sit down; but he
only went a step or two ere he turned round and faced me, and said,
"Missionary, may I say more?"
"Talk on," I said. "I am here now to listen."
"You said just now, `Notawenan.'" ("Our Father.")
"Yes," I said, "I did say, `Our Father.'"
"That is very new and sweet to us," he said. "We never thought of the
Great Spirit as Father: we heard Him in the thunder, and saw Him in the
lightning, and tempest; and blizzard, and we were afraid. So, when you
tell us of the Great Spirit as Father, that is very beautiful to us."
Hesitating a moment, he stood there, a wild, picturesque Indian, yet my
heart had strangely gone out in loving interest and sympathy to him.