WORK OUTSIDE THE PULPIT--POLYGAMY AND ITS EVILS--FAMILY RE-
ARRANGEMENTS--DANGEROUS WORK AT TIMES--PRACTICAL PASTORAL DUTIES--A FISH
SERMON--FIVE MEN WON TO CHRIST.
While the blessed work of preaching "the glorious Gospel of the Son of
God" was ever recognised as the most important of our duties, and we
were permitted to rejoice that, as in Paul's time, still "it pleased God
by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe," yet there
was a great deal to be done outside of the pulpit ere these Indians
could shake off the fetters of a degrading paganism with its attendant
evils.
The slavish fear of the old conjurers deterred some from openly avowing
themselves as willing to accept the truths of Christianity. Others were
polygamists, and were unwilling to comply with the Scriptural
requirements. To have several wives is considered a great honour in
some of the tribes. For a man to separate from all but one is to expose
himself to ridicule from his pagan friends, and also to the danger of
incurring the hostility of the relations of the discarded wives. Some
of the most perplexing and trying duties of my missionary life have been
in connection with this matter of re-organising, on a Christian basis,
the families of once heathen polygamists, who, desirous to do what was
right, have left the matter entirely in my hands. At first my
convictions and views were that the first wife should always be the one
to remain with the man, and the others should go away. Like all the
other Missionaries in the country, I had to modify these ideas, and
decide differently in some peculiar cases.
For example, a man came to me who was much impressed by the truth, and
desired to be a Christian. I questioned him closely, and found him very
sincere and earnest in his resolves. The Spirit was undoubtedly working
in his heart and conscience. He told us he had two wives, but was
willing to put one away. Which one should go, he said he would leave to
the Missionary to decide. His first wife was much the older woman, but
she had no children, while the younger wife had quite a family of little
ones around her. So poor are they in this cold northern land that it is
hard for the best of them at times to get along. Very sad is the
condition of the widow, or those women who have no able-bodied men as
husbands, fathers, or sons, to hunt and work for them. Worse still is
it if they have helpless little children to be cared for. So the
decision we came to was, that the wife with the family of little ones
should remain with the man, and the one who had no children should leave
him.
We tried to arrange that a certain quantity of help should be rendered
to the wife, or wives, put away by the husband. But we found that there
was a certain amount of danger in this, the nature of which will be
evident to the reader; and so, while we insisted on the one or more who
left receiving as large a share as possible of the man's "worldly
goods," we endeavoured to make the separation complete and final. To
help those who for conscience sake thus acted was often a very heavy tax
upon our limited means.
Often the women themselves were the first to insist on a change from the
old polygamous style, which, they were quick to see very soon after the
Gospel was proclaimed to them, was antagonistic to its teachings.
There was one most thrilling case that moved our hearts, and yet caused
us to rejoice, for it showed us the depth of the religious convictions
which impelled them to have the matter set right, even though one must
be cast out and exposed to the ridicule of her heathen friends, and to
the loss of a fairly good-natured husband, considering his pagan
surroundings.
Two women came to our Mission House, and asked to have a talk with my
good wife and myself. After talking about different things, at length
they told us, with much trepidation, that they had attended our
services, and had a great desire in their hearts to become Christians.
We found they were the two wives of an Indian whose wigwam had been
pitched in our vicinity a few weeks before. These women and others had
quietly come to our services at the church, and their hearts and
consciences had been touched by the truth.
We had had some experiences on these lines, and so with entire strangers
we had learned to be a little cautious. In that country, as well as in
civilised lands, it is sometimes a dangerous matter to interfere in the
domestic affairs of other people. So we questioned them closely, and
found that they were resolved to have the matter settled. I asked them
if they had spoken to their husband about it, and they answered in the
affirmative; also that he had left it to them to settle which should go,
as he likewise had begun to think they ought to live as the Christian
Indians did. We asked them what they wanted us to do, and they said
that they had decided that they would leave the matter to the Missionary
and his wife, and whichever we thought ought to leave, would go away,
and try to get her own living.
They returned to their wigwam, and with the consent of their husband
made an equal division of the few things which constituted their
possessions, such as nets, traps, blankets, kettles, and axes. Then,
accompanied by their children, they came again to our house, and sat
down apart from each other, and patiently awaited our decision. My wife
and I deeply felt the responsibility of deciding; yet, as it had come to
us because of the awakening of their hearts to desire a better life, we
could not do otherwise than accept the situation, and do the best we
could.
We had talked the matter over, and had asked Divine guidance; and so
now, when summoned to give our decision, we quickly but kindly said to
the woman with five children, "You are to stay with your husband;" and
to the other woman, who had four children, we said, "You are not to
return to the wigwam, but must be from this hour as an entire stranger
to it."
The first woman sprang up, her eyes flashing with joy, and gathering her
children and property around her she uttered her hasty words of
farewell, and was gone. For a few moments the other woman, who had
drawn her blanket over her head, remained perfectly still, with the
exception of a suppressed sob, which seemed to make the whole body
quiver. Soon, with that wonderful will-power which these Indian women,
as well as the men, possess, she appeared to have obtained the mastery
over herself again, and, uncovering her head, she began to make
preparations for leaving. As she turned her large black eyes dimmed
with tears towards us, while there was no malice in them, there was a
despairing sorrow that pierced us like a knife. She seemed to see the
lonely, neglected, contemned, suffering life before her; but she had
counted the cost, and had taken the step for conscience' sake, and she
would not flinch now. We entered into conversation with her, and it
seemed almost cruel that we, who had given a decision that had shut up
against her the only home she had, should begin to talk to her about
where she would go and what she would do.
She told us she did not know where to go or what to do. Her husband had
bought her from her father, but he was dead; and as her girlhood home
was far away, and she had not been there since her husband took her
away, she knew nothing about any of her relatives. But even if she did,
and could find some of them, it was very likely they would treat her
with contempt, and perhaps persecute her. So she had not the slightest
idea as to the future.
Need I write that our hearts were full of sorrow, and we saw that this
was a case which must have help, no matter how straitened might be our
financial circumstances!
We had but lately read the story of the little oil in the cruse, and the
handful of meal in the barrel; and so this woman and her children must
be helped. While Mrs Young fed them and talked kindly to them, I went
out and got some of my Christian Indians together, and we talked the
matter over, and then took off our coats and went to work, and made her
a wigwam for the present, as it was in the pleasant summer-time. A
canoe was obtained for her, and her nets were set where white fish could
be caught readily. She was an industrious woman, willing to do
everything she could; and so, with the help we gave her and the tangible
sympathy manifested by the Christian Indians, she took heart and got
along very well, and became a good Christian woman.
As the result of the looseness of the marriage tie in their old sinful
lives, we found many strange complicated tangles, some of which it was
impossible to straighten. To deal with some of them would have caused
endless difficulty, without any possibility of improving matters. To
refuse to interfere gave offence to some, who, I am afraid, were more
pharisaical than wise. Here, for example, was one case. A couple had
been married years ago. After living together for several years and
having three children, the man went off to Red River as a boatman for
the Hudson's Bay Company. Delayed there for a time, he married a wife
in the Indian settlement, and made that place his home, only returning
with his second family about the time I went there. His first wife, a
year or two after he left, not hearing from him, married another man,
who supposed she was a widow, and they had several bright, interesting
children. As the result of the faithful preaching of the Word, these
families were converted, and became good Christians. They felt keenly
their position, but, after pondering it over and listening to many
solutions, I gave it up; and as the two families were living happily, I
left them as I had found them. Paganism, not Christianity, was
responsible for the difficulty.
At Nelson River I was accosted one day by an old man, who said he had
listened carefully to what I had said, and wanted to become a Christian
and be baptised. I was very much pleased with his talk, but, suspecting
him to be a polygamist, I asked him as to the number of his wives. His
answer was that he had four. I had a long conversation with him as to
our views, and explained to him the teachings of God's Word, and
candidly told him that I could not baptize him until he put three of
them away.
He seemed grieved at my decision, and said that he did want to be a
Christian, but he and his wives were getting old, and they had got along
fairly well; and now if he went and told them what he would have to do,
he was afraid there would be trouble. As I saw the man was really in
earnest, and it was evident that the good Spirit was working upon his
heart, I encouraged him to make the effort, and I told him everything
would work out all right.
He went to his large tent, and, getting his large family around him,--
for three of these wives had stalwart sons,--he told them of his desire
to become a Christian, and what he would have to do before the
Missionary would consent to baptize him. At once there was a "row."
The women began to wail, and the sons, who generally treated their
mothers with neglect and indifference, now declared, with a good deal of
emphasis, that their mothers should not be sent away, and thus degraded
in the eyes of the people. From what I afterwards learned, there must
have been a rough time.
At length one of the sons spoke up and said, "Who is causing us all this
trouble?"
The answer was, "Why, it is the Missionary, whom we have all heard, and
who refuses to baptize our father unless he puts away all of his wives
but one."
"Let us go for that Missionary," said several of them, and seizing their
arms, they came for me.
Fortunately for me I was outside of the trading post on the green, and
saw them coming, and, not liking their suspicious movements, and
imagining the cause, I speedily decided on my course of action. Calling
one of my reliable Christian Indians, I went quickly towards them, and,
ignoring their angry looks, I began talking to them as though we were
the best of friends. Something like the following were my words to
them:--
"Men, you have heard me talk to you out of the great Book. You have
listened attentively. You are thinking about what I have said to you.
I wish we could do something, or find out some way, by which you and
your mothers and father could all resolve together to give up the old
bad life, and accept the new one, and become Christians together. I
have been thinking it over since I had a little talk with your father,
and I have a plan that I think will work well."
While I went on in this way, they listened attentively; and when I came
to mention a plan by which the difficulty could be overcome, the wicked
looks began to fade from their eyes, for they were not anxious to kill
me if any other solution of the difficulty could be found.
They were eager to know what I had to suggest, and listened very
attentively when I told them it would not be humiliating to any one. I
told them I was pleased to find some young men who were willing to stand
up for their mothers, while the great majority treated them worse than
they did their dogs. My suggestion was, that the sons of each mother
should form a wigwam of their own, and take their own mother with them
and care for her. They were good hunters and strong men, and could do
well. Then I added, "Let your father remain with the wife who has no
children, no strong sons or daughters. Do this, and the Great Spirit
will be pleased, and when you are further instructed there will be
nothing to prevent you all being baptized and becoming Christians
together."
They were much pleased with the suggestion, and went away to talk it
over. I did not succeed in getting the scheme immediately carried out,
but my successor, the devoted and heroic Reverend John Semmens, was so
successful in following up the work thus begun, that these Indians, with
many scores of others, have become sincere, consistent Christians.
Various were the plans adopted by my zealous, devoted wife and myself to
help the people up to a better and happier life. In their old ways
there were but few efforts made by the women to keep their homes neat
and tidy, and their children or themselves clean. They had no
encouragements to do anything of the kind. Kicked and cuffed and
despised, there was left in them no ambition to do anything more than
would save them from the rough treatment of those who considered
themselves their lords and masters. The result was, when they became
Christians, there was a great deal to learn ere their simple little
homes could be kept decently, and in order. Fortunately, with a great
many of them there was a desire to learn. A novel plan that we adopted,
as one among many that did much good, was occasionally to go and dine
with some of them. Our method was something like this. On the Sabbath
from the pulpit I would announce that on Monday, if all was well, Mrs
Young and I would dine with such a family, mentioning the name. On
Tuesday we would dine with some one else, and on Wednesday with some
other family, and so on for the week. This was, of course, the first
intimation any of these families had received that, without waiting for
an invitation, the Missionary and his wife were coming to dine with
them.
After service they waited to ask us if they could believe their own
ears.
"Yes, certainly," I replied.
"Why, we have nothing to set before you but fish," they would say.
"Never mind if you have but little; we will see to the food. All we are
anxious for you to do is to have your little house as clean as you can
possibly make it, and yourselves and children as clean and nice as
possible."
In this way we would talk to the half-frightened women, who were at
first really alarmed at the prospect of having to entertain us; however,
our words comforted them, and they went off delighted.
Our plan was generally as follows. I would start off after breakfast
and make several pastoral visits, or attend to some other matters, and
so arrange my forenoon work that I should be able to reach the Indian
home, where that day we had announced to dine, about noon. Mrs Young
would have her own train of dogs harnessed up about ten o'clock. In her
cariole she would put dishes, tablecloth, and provisions, with
everything else requisite for a comfortable dinner considering our
limited circumstances. A faithful young Indian acted as her dog-driver,
and soon she and her load were at the home of the expectant family, who
were all excitement at the coming of the Missionary and his wife.
Very clean and tidy looked the little house and family. The floor had
been scrubbed and rubbed until it could not be made whiter, and
everything else was similarly polished up. As but very few of the
houses had tables in those days, the floor was ever used as the
substitute. On it the tablecloth was spread, and the dishes and knives
and forks were arranged in order, and the dinner prepared. If the
family had fish and potatoes, some of them would be cooked; but if not,
sufficient was always taken in the cariole. We ever found it best to
let them contribute to the dinner if they had abundance of either fish
or potatoes.
About the time I arrived dinner would be ready, and after cheering words
of greeting to all, even to the fat papoose in the board cradle, we sat
down, picnic style, on the floor to dinner. It would be called in
civilised lands a plain dinner, and so it was; yet it was a feast to
them, a banquet to us. Cheery conversation added to our enjoyment, and
a very happy hour was thus spent. Then the Bible and hymn-books were
brought out, and together we sang and read and talked about the blessed
truths of that glorious Book. Then together we kneeled down, and "by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving" made our requests known to
God; and to us came the sweet fulfilment, "the peace of God, which
passeth all understanding," filled our hearts.
I generally hurried off to other duties. Mrs Young directed in the
washing of the dishes and in putting them away, and then helped the
woman of the house in some things about which she was longing for
assistance. Perhaps it was a dress to be cut out for herself, or some
garments fitted on some of the girls, or other similar things too
intricate or difficult for my obtuse mind to be able to grasp.
Thus from house to house we would go, and by our presence and cheery
words encourage them to become more industrious and tidy. Those
families never forgot these visits. With many of them there was a
marked change in their homes, and with many also there was a marked
improvement in their religious life.
Once, in preaching from the text, "Behold, I stand at the door, and
knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in," I
tried to describe the blessed Redeemer coming to our hearts and knocking
for admittance. I told them, all He wanted was a welcome to come in.
As they made their little houses so clean, and gave the Missionary and
his wife such a welcome, so the Saviour asked us to drive all sin out,
and give Him all the place.
"Some of you said, `We cannot entertain the Missionary; we have no food,
so there will be no dinner.' But the Missionary and his wife brought
abundance, and there was a good dinner. Better far is it when Jesus
comes. He spreads out the feast, and He invites us to sit down and
feast with Him. O let Him in!"
Such talks as these, after practical illustrations, opened many hearts
to the Heavenly Guest.
So many and importunate had been the pleading calls for visits to
different places, to tell the wonderful story of the Great Spirit and
his Son, and to teach the people to read His Book, that one year my
canoe trip to Oxford House Mission had to be delayed until the summer
was nearly ended. But my comrades were splendid fellows, and we started
off in good spirits, anticipating a successful visit; and we were not
disappointed.
We preached several times to the Indians, and baptized a large number of
children; some young couples were married, and we had a solemn and
blessed time when celebrating the dying of the Lord Jesus. The
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper is very much prized by the Indians, and
the greatest reverence is always manifested during the service. The
fellowship meeting was a very good one, and some of the testimonies
given by the men and women, so happily rescued by the Gospel's power,
were of great interest.
When travelling, if the weather was good, we generally rose with the
first blush of morn, and so were often on the way by four o'clock.
Sometimes our route was across fine lakes, or along majestic rivers; and
then we were in narrow, sluggish streams, that were destitute of beauty
or interest. One morning our way was down a large river, on the shores
of which the fog had settled, completely hiding us from land. The early
morning air was invigorating, and so in unison we were plying our
paddles vigorously, and rapidly speeding along. We had seen no signs of
human beings for days, and so were surprised and startled when several
reports of firearms in quick succession sounded sharp and clear through
the fog on our right. Nothing was visible through the gloom, but we
quickly hove to, and turned our canoe in the direction from which the
_feu-de-joie_ had sounded. As we approached the shore human forms began
to appear in ghostly outline, more and more distinct, until they
resolved themselves into a company of Indians, who were delighted to see
us, and had been on the look-out for days. They had come sixty miles
from the interior, and had camped on that point jutting out into the
river, for the purpose of having a visit from us as we passed.
The fact that they detected us as we were passing was another evidence
of the marvellous education, in certain lines, of these Indians. It was
very early in the morning; our canoe was some hundreds of yards from the
shore; a dense fog hid us completely from each other. All the noise we
made was the dip of our paddles in the water. Yet these wide-awake,
alert Indians heard that sound, and by the rapid firing of the guns drew
us to them.
We shared their hospitality, as they had abundance of game. We had
service with them, married a young couple, baptized several children,
and had a pleasant time. Then on we hurried, since the time of open
navigation was drawing to a close, and we did not wish to be caught in
the ice, and have to walk perhaps scores of miles with our bedding,
provisions, kettles, axes, and other things strapped on our backs.
We made the greater part of the return trip all right, had reached Harry
Lake early in the forenoon, and were rapidly paddling out of the river
which entered into it, when again we heard the report of guns. So
anxious were we to get on that we hesitated about stopping. It was now
later in the season than often in some other years. Fierce storms had
raged, and the ice had formed on the lake and rivers. We were dreading
these fierce fall storms, which come down very suddenly, and stir up
those northern lakes, so that in a very short time where all was calm
and still, great foam-crested waves go rushing madly by.
The lake before us, into which we had just entered and which was several
miles in diameter, was now as placid as a pond.
To cross it now, as in wondrous beauty it spread before us, would be but
a pleasure jaunt. The poetry of motion is to be found in the Indian's
birch canoe, when the water is calm and the sky is clear. Cold-hearted
prudence said, "Go on, and never mind those Indians' signals for you to
land." Our better natures said, "They may be in need, and have good
reason for asking you to stop. Perhaps you can do them good." So we
turned the head of our canoe to the shore, and were soon alongside the
rock on which we saw them standing. They were five hunters. Without
getting out of the canoe, we asked why they had signalled to us to come
ashore. Their answer was one we had often heard before. They were
hungry, and wanted help. Finding they had only been a few days away
from the Fort, where they had got supplies, I asked how it was that they
were so badly off. Their reply was that they had unfortunately left
their powder, which they were carrying in a canvas bag, out on the rock
a few nights before. While they slept the rain came down upon them and
ruined it, and so they could not shoot anything. I quickly said to one
of my men, "How much food have we?" He examined our limited supply, and
then said there was about one square meal.
We found these men were pagan Indians, whom I had met before, and had
talked with about becoming Christians; but all I could get from them was
the characteristic Indian shrug of the shoulders, and the words, "As our
fathers lived, so will we." Our dinner was the last of a bear we had
shot a few days before. While it was cooking the storm which we feared
began to gather, and ere our dinner was finished the lake looked very
different from what it was an hour before. If we had not stopped, we
could have easily got across it. As it was now, it would have been
madness to have ventured out upon it. So we had to pull up our canoe,
and there, as contentedly as possible, wait for the storm to cease. It
raged furiously all that day and the next. The third day it began to
moderate. What made it worse for us was the scarcity, or rather the
entire absence, of food. We were unfortunately storm-bound in about the
worst part of that country for game. It was so late in the season that
the ducks and geese had gone south, the beaver and musk-rats were in
their houses, and we could find nothing. On some of our trips we
carried fishing-tackle, but this time we had nothing of the kind.
Fortunately we had some tea and sugar.
Without breakfast, dinner, or supper, we had to live on as best we
could. Before we lay down to sleep there had to be a considerable
tightening of the belts, or there would be no sleep at all, so keen were
the gnawings of hunger. I found it helpful to sleep to roll up my towel
as hard as possible, and then crowd it under my tight belt over the pit
of my stomach. Nearly three days without food was no pleasant ordeal
even in missionary work.
We held several religious services, even though our congregation was a
small one. We also found out that it was not at all helpful to piety to
try to worship on an empty stomach, and have been ever since in great
sympathy with these who would feed the poor first, and then preach to
them.
The third day one of the Indians, while walking along the shore, found
the old bleached shoulder-blade of a bear. With his knife he carved out
a rude fish-hook, and, taking the strings of his moccasins, and those of
others, he formed a line. A piece of red flannel was used as bait, and
a small stone served as a sinker. With this primitive arrangement he
began fishing. His method was to stand on a rock and throw the hook out
as far as his line would permit, and then draw it in rapidly, like
trolling.
Strange to say, with this rude appliance he caught a fish. It was a
pike weighing six or eight pounds. Very quickly was it scaled, cleaned,
and put in the pot. When cooked, about a third of it was put on my tin
plate, and placed before me with these words: "Please, Missionary, eat."
I looked at the hungry men around me and said, "No, that is not the
way." And then I put back the third of the fish with the rest, and,
taking out my hunting knife, I counted the company, and then cut the
fish into eight pieces, and gave each man his eighth, and took an equal
portion myself. It was right that I should thus act, and it seemed to
be a little thing to do, but it was a sermon that led those five men to
become Christians. As soon as they had finished their portions they lit
their pipes, and as they smoked they talked; and as near as I and my men
could make out, here is what they said:
"We must listen with both ears to that Missionary. He is here without
food, suffering from hunger, because he stopped to share with us his
last meal. We caught a fish, and when we offered him a large piece he
refused it, and divided equally with us all. He has been anxious to do
us good and to have us to listen to his words. He has not once scolded
us for asking him to stop, although he could have got across the lake
before the storm arose, and, as the rest of the way is in the river, he
could have gone on home. He has shown himself to be our friend, and we
must listen to what he has to say." Thus they went on, and I must
confess I paid but little attention to what they were saying. After a
few hours more the storm went down, and we gladly embarked that evening
in our canoe and pushed on.
The next day we reached the Mission village of Rossville, making our
last portage at Sea River Falls, near Norway House; and as we saw the
fish and venison hanging on the stagings around the houses of the
people, my patient fellows cried out, "We should like to laugh at the
sight of food, but we are too empty altogether."
We paddled the last mile as quickly as we had any other, and kept up our
courage until we were home. As I entered the house, a strange faintness
came over me, and all the welcome words I could give to my loved ones
were, "My dear, we are starving; please get us some food." Then I sank
down exhausted. Loving care from one of the best and bravest of wives
quickly brought me round again, and I was soon ready to be off on
another trip.
The long winter passed away, and the welcome summer came at last. We
have really very little of spring in that northern land. The transition
from winter to summer is very rapid. With the disappearance of the ice
from the lakes and rivers came the Indians in their birch canoes, from
various quarters where they had spent the winter in trapping the fur-
bearing animals. As usual they came to see the Missionary in goodly
numbers. Among those who thus honoured us were five big men, who, after
a few words of greeting, said, "We hope you have not forgotten the fish;
we have not, and we want to have a talk with you."
"Fish?" I said. "Why, we have fish twenty-one times a week, boiled,
baked, fried, salt, dried,--good, bad, and indifferent. I have seen so
many fishes, I cannot think of any one in particular."
Then they told me about the long delay by the storm, when I had stopped
and fed them, at the time when they had not kept their powder dry; and
how, when one of them caught a fish and offered me a good-sized piece, I
divided it equally among them. As they brought the incident back to my
memory, for there were so many strange adventures occurring in the wild
life that this one had partly faded, I said: "Yes, I now remember there
did happen something of the kind."
Very earnestly spoke up one of them and said: "We have never forgotten
it, and all through the moons of the winter we have talked about it and
your lessons out of the great Book. And while up to that time we had
decided not to be Christians, but to die as did our fathers, we have
changed our minds since that time you divided the fish, and we want you
to teach us more and more of this good way."
They were intensely in earnest and fully decided for Christ. So five
more families settled down in the Christian village, and are giving
evidence by their lives and conversation that the change wrought in them
was real and abiding. Their conversion in this peculiar way was very
cheering to us, and it was another lesson to be "instant in season, out
of season."