REVEREND JAMES EVANS, THE PEERLESS MISSIONARY--HIS JOURNEYS BY CANOE AND
DOG-TRAIN--THE CREE SYLLABIC CHARACTERS, HIS INVENTION--LORD DUFFERIN'S
WORDS CONCERNING HIM--HIS SUCCESSES--HIS TRIALS--ACCIDENTAL SHOOTING OF
HIS INTERPRETER--SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO THE AVENGERS--ADOPTED INTO A
PAGAN FAMILY--VISIT TO ENGLAND--SUDDEN DEATH.
Without any question, the Reverend James Evans was the grandest and most
successful of all our Indian Missionaries. Of him it can be said most
emphatically, "While others have done well, he excelled them all."
In burning zeal, in heroic efforts, in journeyings oft, in tact that
never failed in many a trying hour, in success most marvellous, in a
vivacity and sprightliness that never succumbed to discouragement, in a
faith that never faltered, and in a solicitude for the spread of our
blessed Christianity that never grew less, James Evans stands among us
without a peer.
If full accounts of his long journeys in the wilds of the great North-
West could be written, they would equal in thrilling interest anything
of the kind known in modern missionary annals. There is hardly an
Indian Mission of any prominence to-day in the whole of the vast North-
West, whether belonging to the Church of England, the Roman Catholic, or
the Methodist Church, that James Evans did not commence; and the reason
why the Methodist Church to-day does not hold them all is, because the
apathetic Church did not respond to his thrilling appeals, and send in
men to take possession and hold the fields as fast as they were
successfully opened up by him.
From the northern shores of Lake Superior away to the _ultima Thule_
that lies beyond the waters of Athabasca and Slave Lakes, where the
Aurora Borealis holds high carnival; from the beautiful prairies of the
Bow and Saskatchewan Rivers to the muskegs and sterile regions of
Hudson's Bay; from the fair and fertile domains of Red and Assinaboia
Rivers, to the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains, enduring footprints of
James Evans may still be seen.
At many a camp-fire, and in many a lonely wigwam, old Indians yet
linger, whose eyes brighten and whose tongues wax eloquent as they
recall that man whose deeds live on, and whose converts from a degrading
paganism are still to be counted by scores. Many a weary hour has been
charmed away, as I have listened to Papanekis the elder, or Henry Budd,
or some other old Indian guide or dog-driver, or canoe-man, while they
rehearsed the thrilling adventures, the narrow escapes, the wonderful
deliverances, and also some of the tragic events, through which they
passed in company with the "Nistum Ayumeaookemou," the "first
Missionary."
The dog-drivers loved to talk about Mr Evans' wonderful train of half
dogs, half wolves, with which for years he travelled. With great
enthusiasm they would talk of their marvellous speed and endurance, of
their fierceness and sagacity; of how, when the nights in the wintry
camps were unusually cold--say fifty or sixty degrees below zero--these
fierce animals would crowd into the camp, and, lying on their backs,
would hold up both their fore and hind feet, and thus mutely beg for
some one to have compassion upon them and put on the warm woollen dog-
shoes.
His canoe trips were often of many weeks' duration, and extended for
thousands of miles. No river seemed too rapid, and no lake too stormy,
to deter him in his untiring zeal to find out the Indian in his
solitudes, and preach to him the ever-blessed Gospel. Ever on the look-
out for improvements to aid him in more rapid transit through the
country, Mr Evans constructed a canoe out of sheet tin. This the
Indians called the "Island of light," on account of its flashing back
the sun's rays as it glided along propelled by the strong paddles in the
hands of the well trained crew. With them they carried in this novel
craft solder and soldering-iron, and when they had the misfortune to run
upon a rock they went ashore and quickly repaired the injured place.
Mr Evans had been for years a Minister and Missionary in the Canadian
Methodist Church. With the Reverend William Case he had been very
successfully employed among the Indians in the Province of Ontario.
When the English Wesleyan Society decided to begin work among the
neglected tribes in the Hudson's Bay Territories, the Reverend James
Evans was the man appointed to be the leader of the devoted band. In
order to reach Norway House, which was to be his first principal
Mission, his household effects had to be shipped from Toronto to
England, and thence reshipped to York Factory on the Hudson Bay. From
this place they had to be taken up by boats to Norway House in the
interior, a distance of five hundred miles. Seventy times had they to
be lifted out of these inland boats and carried along the portages
around falls and cataracts ere they reached their destination.
Mr Evans himself went by boat from Toronto. The trip from Thunder Bay
in Lake Superior to Norway House was performed in a birch bark canoe.
Hundreds of Indians listened to his burning messages, and great good was
done by him and his faithful companions in arms, among them being the
heroic Mr Barnley, and Mr Rundle, of the English Wesleyan Church.
The great work of Mr Evans' life, and that with which his name will be
ever associated, was undoubtedly the invention and perfecting of what is
now so widely known as the Cree Syllabic Characters. What first led him
to this invention was the difficulty he and others had in teaching the
Indians to read in the ordinary way. They are hunters, and so are very
much on the move, like the animals they seek. To-day their tents are
pitched where there is good fishing, and perhaps in two weeks they are
far away in the deep forests, where roam the reindeer, or on the banks
of streams where the beavers build their wonderful dams and curious
homes. The constant thought in this master Missionary's mind was, "Can
I possibly devise a plan by which these wandering people can learn to
read more easily?"
The principle of the characters which he adopted is phonetic. There are
no silent letters. Each character represents a syllable; hence no
spelling is required. As soon as the alphabet is mastered, and a few
additional secondary signs, some of which represent consonants, and some
aspirates, and some partially change the sound of the main character,
the Indian student, be he a man or woman of eighty, or a child of six
years, can commence at the first chapter of Genesis and read on, slowly
of course at first, but in a few days with surprising ease and accuracy.
Many were Mr Evans' difficulties in perfecting this invention and
putting it in practical use, even after he had got the scheme clear and
distinct in his own mind. He was hundreds of miles away from
civilisation. Very little indeed had he with which to work. Yet with
him there was no such word as failure. Obtaining, as a great favour,
the thin sheets of lead that were around the tea-chests of the fur
traders, he melted these down into little bars, and from them cut out
his first types. His ink was made out of the soot of the chimneys, and
his first paper was birch bark. After a good deal of effort, and the
exercise of much ingenuity, he made a press, and then the work began.
Great indeed was the amazement and delight of the Indians. The fact
that the bark could "talk" was to them most wonderful. Portions of the
Gospels were first printed, and then some of the beautiful hymns. The
story of this invention reached the Wesleyan Home Society. Generous
help was afforded. A good supply of these types was cast in London,
and, with a good press and all the essential requisites, including a
large quantity of paper, was sent out to that Mission, and for years it
was the great point from which considerable portions of the Word of God
were scattered among the wandering tribes, conferring unnumbered
blessings upon them. In later years the noble British and Foreign Bible
Society has taken charge of the work; and now, thanks to their
generosity, the Indians have the blessed Word scattered among them, and
thousands can read its glorious truths.
All the Churches having Missions in that great land have availed
themselves, more or less, of Mr Evans' invention. To suit other tribes
speaking different languages, the characters have been modified or have
had additions to them, to correspond with sounds in those languages
which were not in the Cree. Even in Greenland the Moravian Missionaries
are now using Evans' Syllabic Characters with great success among the
Esquimaux.
When Lord Dufferin was Governor-General of the Dominion of Canada,
hearing that a couple of Missionaries from the Indian tribes were in
Ottawa, where he resided, he sent a courteous request for us to call
upon him. With two or three friends, Mr Crosby, our successful and
energetic Missionary from British Columbia, and I, obeyed the summons.
The interview was a very pleasant and profitable one. Lord Dufferin
questioned Mr Crosby about British Columbia and his work, and was
pleased to hear of his great success. After a bright and earnest
conversation with me in reference to the Indians of the North-West
Territories, in which his Excellency expressed his solicitude for the
welfare and happiness of the aboriginal tribes of red men, he made some
inquiries in reference to missionary work among them, and seemed much
pleased with the answers I was able to give. In mentioning the help I
had in my work, I showed him my Cree Indian Testament printed in Evans'
Syllabic Characters, and explained the invention to him. At once his
curiosity was excited, and, jumping up, he hurried off for pen and ink,
and got me to write out the whole alphabet for him; and then, with that
glee and vivacity for which his lordship was so noted, he constituted me
his teacher, and commenced at once to master them.
As their simplicity, and yet wonderful adaptation for their designed
work, became evident to him--for in a short time he was able to read a
portion of the Lord's Prayer--Lord Dufferin was much excited, and,
getting up from his chair and holding up the Testament in his hand,
exclaimed, "Why, Mr Young, what a blessing to humanity the man was who
invented that alphabet!" Then he added, "I profess to be a kind of a
literary man myself, and try to keep posted up in my reading of what is
going on, but I never heard of this before. The fact is, the nation has
given many a man a title, and a pension, and then a resting-place and a
monument in Westminster Abbey, who never did half so much for his
fellow-creatures."
Then again he asked, "Who did you say was the author or inventor of
these characters?"
"The Reverend James Evans," I replied.
"Well, why is it I never heard of him before, I wonder?"
My reply was, "My lord, perhaps the reason why you never heard of him
before was because he was a humble, modest Methodist preacher."
With a laugh he replied, "That may have been it," and then the
conversation changed.
Mr Evans was ever anxious that the Indian converts should at once be
made to understand all the duties and responsibilities of the new life
on which they were entering, he was a fearless man, and boldly declared
unto them the whole counsel of God. Knowing the blighting, destroying
influences of the "fire water" upon the poor Indian race, he made the
Church a total abstinence society, and, as all missionaries should, he
set them the example of his own life. Then, as regards the keeping of
the Sabbath, he took his stand on the Word of God, and preached the
absolute necessity of the one day's rest in seven. In after years we
saw the good results of the scriptural lessons which he and his worthy
successors taught in reference to the holy day.
Many and severe were the trials, and mysterious some of the
persecutions, which this glorious man had to bear. Because of his
unswerving loyalty to truth, and his conscientious and fearless teaching
of all the commandments of God's Word, some in high authority, who at
first were supposed to be friendly, turned against him, and became his
unprincipled foes. The trouble first seemed to begin when Mr Evans
taught the Indians to "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." At
his request, they, when hunting or fishing or tripping in the months of
open water, rested on the Lord's day. Short-sighted employers,
unconscious of the fact, so often demonstrated, that they who rest the
one day in seven can do more work in the other six, opposed this
teaching, and, when they could not stop it, assailed the Missionary in a
way that must have caused a jubilee in hell. I shall not go into
particulars. Most of the principal actors are in the presence of the
Judge of all the earth. He Who suffered for a time the name of this
devoted servant of His to be so shamefully clouded has cleared all the
mists away; and like the silver refined by the furnace, so has it been
in this case.
But persecutions, and even these bitter assaults upon his character,
could not turn him from the most intense activity in his blessed life-
work. Like an Apostle Paul in primitive times, or like a Coke or Asbury
in the early years of this century, so travelled James Evans. When we
say he travelled thousands of miles each year on his almost semi-
continental journeys, we must remember that these were not performed by
coach or railroad, or even with horse and carriage, or in the saddle or
sailing vessel, but by canoe and dog-train. How much of hardship and
suffering that means, we are thankful but few of our readers will ever
know. There are a few of us who do know something of these things, and
this fellowship of his suffering knits our hearts in loving memory to
him who excelled us all, and the fragrance of whose name and unselfish
devotion to his work met us almost everywhere, although years had passed
away since James Evans had entered into his rest. "He being dead yet
speaketh." To write about him and his work is a labour of love. Would
that the pen of some ready writer might give us a biography of this
Missionary of such versatility of gifts, and such marvellous success in
his work!
Room only have I here, in addition to what has already been written, to
give some account of the sad event of his life, the accidental shooting
of his interpreter, Joseph Hasselton, and the after consequences.
Word reached Mr Evans one year, that the priests were endeavouring to
crowd up into the Athabasca and Mackenzie River country, and get a
foothold among some very interesting Indians whom Mr Evans had visited
and found very anxious for the truth. Desirous that they should not be
led away from the simplicity of the Gospel, he felt that the best plan
was for him to hurry up by light canoe and get into that country and
among his Indians before the priests arrived. They had gone the usual
route up the Saskatchewan, and from thence were to go over the height of
land, and then by boat down the streams which from those regions run
towards the Arctic Ocean.
Mr Evans' plan was to take what is called "the back route," that was,
to go partly down the Nelson River, and then, turning westward through
an almost endless succession of lakes and rivers and portages, arrive
before the other parties, although several weeks of severest toil would
be passed in making the long journey. With his beloved interpreter, who
was one of the most remarkable Indians of his day, a man who could talk
almost every Indian language spoken by the natives of the land, and,
what was better, a devoted Christian, full of zeal and enthusiasm for
the work, and with another reliable native from whom I received my
information as to what occurred, the long journey was commenced. For
several days they made good progress, and were rejoicing at the prospect
of success. One morning, very early, while they were paddling along in
the great Nelson River, Hasselton, the interpreter, who was in the front
of the canoe, said, "I see some ducks in those reeds near the shore.
Hand me the gun." In these small canoes the guns are generally kept in
the stern with the muzzles pointing back, so as to prevent accidents.
The man who was in the stern quickly picked up the gun, and foolishly
drew back the trigger. With the muzzle pointing forward he passed the
gun to Mr Evans, who did not turn his head, as he was earnestly looking
if he also could see the ducks. As Mr Evans took the gun passed to him
he unfortunately let the trigger, which had no guard around it, strike
against the thaft of the canoe. Instantly it went off, and the contents
were discharged into the head of the poor man in front. He turned his
dying eyes upon Mr Evans, and then fell over, a corpse. It was an
awful accident, and doubly painful on account of the unfortunate
surroundings. Here the two survivors were, about two hundred miles from
any habitation. They could not take the body back with them. For days
they would meet none to whom they could tell their story. They went
ashore, and, when their first paroxysm of grief was over, they had to
dig, as best they could, a grave in the wilderness, and there bury their
dead.
They turned their faces homeward, and very sorrowful indeed was the
journey. Great was the grief at the village, and greater still the
consternation when it was discovered what Mr Evans had resolved to do.
His interpreter was the only Christian among his relatives. The rest of
them were wild pagans with bad records. Life for life was their motto,
and many had been their deeds of cruelty and bloodshed in seeking that
revenge which occupies so large a place in the savage Indian's heart.
They lived several hundred miles away, and Mr Evans resolved to go and
surrender himself to them, tell them what he had done, and take all the
consequences. Many friends, knowing how quick the Indian is to act when
aroused by the news of the death of a relative--for often before he
hears all the circumstances does he strike the fatal blow--urged him not
to go himself, but to send a mediator.
To this suggestion he turned a deaf ear, and, having made his will and
left all instructions as to the work if he should never return, and
bidden farewell to his stricken family, who never expected to see him
alive again, he started off on his strange and perilous journey.
Reaching the distant village, he walked into the tent of the parents of
his interpreter, and told them that his heart was broken, and why.
Angry words were uttered, and tomahawks and guns were freely handled,
while he described the tragic scene. Feeling so utterly miserable that
he little cared whether they killed him or let him live, there he sat
down on the ground in their midst, and awaited their decision. Some of
the hot-headed spirits were for killing him at once; but wiser counsels
prevailed, and it was decided that he must be adopted into the family
from which he had shot the son, and be all to them, as far as possible,
that their son had been. This had been a good deal. Becoming a
Christian had made him kind and loving, and so all that he could spare
of his wages, earned while interpreting for Mr Evans, had been
faithfully sent to his parents. The ceremony of adoption lasted several
days. Mr Evans assumed as his Indian name that of this family, and a
good son indeed they found in him.
When he left to return to his Mission they kissed him, and acted towards
him with as much affection as such people can show. Many were the gifts
which were sent them by their adopted son, who took good care of them as
long as he lived.
But while this difficulty was thus tided over, the memory of it never
faded away from Mr Evans. He was never the same man after. Yet he did
not allow it to deter him from the most vigorous prosecution of his
work: indeed, it seemed to his people as though he tried to bury his
sorrow in incessant toil, and labours so abundant, that but few even of
the Indians "in journeyings oft" could equal him.
To aid the further prosecution of his labours, and to excite greater
interest in the well-being of the Red Indians of British North America,
Mr Evans went to England to speak about his work and its needs. His
story of marvellous incidents and varied experiences in this land of
which so little was known, produced a deep impression, and great crowds
came out to hear him, and insisted on his continuing at great length his
wonderful descriptions of travelling by canoe and dog-train, and the
longing desire there was in the hearts of the Indians for the Gospel.
On November 23rd, 1846, after having spoken at Keelby in Lincolnshire,
he returned with his wife, who was in every respect a devoted helpmate
for such a work, to the home of the gentleman and lady with whom they
were stopping. While chatting on various subjects, Mrs Evans turned to
her husband, who was comfortably seated in a large arm-chair, and said,
"My dear, I have had such a strange presentiment--that we shall never
see Norway House and our faithful Indians again." He turned to her and
said, with something of his old enthusiasm, "Why should that thought
trouble you, my dear? Heaven is just as near from England as from
America."
The two ladies said, "Good night!" and retired, leaving Mr Evans and
the gentleman of the house to chat together a little longer. Shortly
after, the gentleman said something to Mr Evans, and, receiving no
answer, he turned from the fire and looked at him. At first he thought
he had fallen asleep, but this was only for an instant. Springing up
and going to him, he found that the immortal spirit had so quietly and
gently flitted away, that there had not been the slightest sob or cry.
The noble Indian Missionary was dead. The eloquent tongue was hushed
for ever. For his return hundreds of anxious weeping Indians in those
northern wilds would long and wait, but wait in vain. He had been
conveyed by angel bands to that innumerable company of redeemed, blood-
washed saints around the throne of God, which even then had received
many happy converted Indians, who, brought to God by his
instrumentality, had finished their course with joy, and before him had
entered in through the gates into the city, and were there to welcome
him.
Hundreds, since then, of his spiritual children have had the "abundant
entrance ministered unto" them, and they have joined him in that rapidly
increasing throng. And although many years have passed away since he
preached to them his last sermon, at many a camp-fire, and in many a
wigwam, still linger old men, and women too, whose eyes glisten, and
then become bedimmed with tears, as they think of him who so long ago
went on before. But while they weep, they also rejoice that that
salvation, which, as the result of his preaching, they accepted, is
still their solace and their joy, and, clinging to it and its great
Author, they shall by-and-by meet their Missionary and loved ones who
have finished their course and gained the eternal shores.
On the previous page are the Syllabic Characters, as invented by Mr
Evans; and on this we give the Lord's Prayer in Cree, as printed in
them.
Perhaps the following explanations will help the student who may have a
wish to master this wonderful invention.
In the Alphabet the first line of characters, the equilateral triangle
in four positions, reads as follows, a e oo ah.
The addition of the little dot, as seen in the second line, adds to any
character after which it is placed the sound of w. So this second line
reads wa, we, woo, wah.
The following lines read thus: pa pe poo pah; ta te too tah; ka ke koo
kah; cha che choo chah; ma mee moo mah; na ne noo nah; sa se soo sah; ya
ye yoo yah.
With a little patience the Lord's Prayer can be read even without a
teacher.
I have gone to a pagan band far away in the northern wilderness, and
after they have become willing to receive the truth, I have commenced to
teach them to read the Word of God. Very limited indeed were our
appliances, for we were hundreds of miles from the nearest school house.
But from the camp-fire, where we had cooked our bear's meat or beaver,
I would take a burnt stick, and with it make these Syllabic Characters
on the side of a rock, and then patiently repeat them over and over
again with my school of often three generations of Indians together,
until they had some idea of them. Then I would give them the copies of
the Bible I had brought, and at the first verse of Genesis we would
begin. It paid for the hardships of the trip a thousandfold to see the
looks of joy and delight on their faces as they themselves were able to
read that wonderful verse.