Since the opening up of the heart of Africa, by the indomitable courage
and zeal of such men as Speke and Moffat, Baker and Livingstone, Stanley
and Cameron, Bishop Taylor and others, perhaps one of the least known
portions of this habitable globe is the northern part of the great
Dominion of Canada. The discovery of the rich gold mines in the great
Yukon River district--the greater number by far being in Canadian
territory--is attracting attention to that part of the hitherto unknown
north-western portion of the great Dominion, and will doubtless lead to
its becoming better known.
It is true that there are vast regions of this great country that are of
but little value to civilised people as a home. Still there are
hundreds of millions of acres, of land as fertile as any in the world,
and thousands of people are crowding in every year and taking possession
of what will yet become one of the greatest wheat producing portions of
the globe.
From east to west, through the Dominion runs the great Canada Pacific
Railway, the longest in the world. This great road has not only broken
the long silence of the wilderness and opened up the grandest route to
the Orient, but it has also unsettled the Indians in their prairie and
forest retreat; it has not only brought trade to their wigwam villages
but also the missionary with the Bible to their very doors.
But north of these new provinces where the whistle of the iron horse is
heard, are vast regions that are as free from the inroads of the
adventurous pioneer as is the Desert of Sahara. This is a country of
magnificent lakes and rivers with their untold wealth of fish. Its vast
forests and morasses abound in fur-bearing animals of great value.
Bears and wolves, reindeer and moose, and many other animals which the
Indians love to hunt, exist in large numbers.
The Indian tribes of these northern regions live altogether by hunting
and fishing. They are not warlike, as are the tribes of the great
prairies, but in their pagan state have many vile and abominable
practices, which show that they are just as bad as those who delight in
war and as much in need of the Gospel.
Missionaries of the different denominations have gone into these remote
regions, have lived amidst many privations, and have given their lives
to the blessed work of Christianising, and then civilising these long
neglected people. They have not toiled in vain. Thousands have
renounced their paganism and become earnest, genuine Christians. The
missionary life in such a land and among such a people is, as might be
well imagined, very different from that in other countries.
As these mission fields are in such high latitudes the winter is very
long and severe. Hence, the habitations to be at all comfortable must
be very warmly built. There is no limestone in that land, and
consequently, no lime. As a poor substitute, mud is used. The houses
are built with a framework of squared timber which is well logged up,
and the chinks well packed with moss and mud. When this is thoroughly
dry, and made as air-tight as possible, the building is clapboarded, and
lined with tongued and grooved boards. Double windows are used to help
keep out the bitter cold. When well built and cared for, some of these
homes are fairly comfortable; very different from the wretched,
uncomfortable abodes some of the early missionaries were content to
dwell in.
As great forests are everywhere in those regions, wood is used for fuel
instead of coal. Great box stoves are kept red hot day and night from
October until May.
The food used by the missionaries was the same as that on which the
Indians lived. Flour was almost unknown. Fish and game afforded
subsistence to nearly all. It is true that, many years ago, the great
Saskatchewan, brigades of boats came to Norway house and York factory
loaded down with vast quantities of pemmican and dried buffalo meat; but
long since the great herds of buffalo have been exterminated, and the
far-famed pemmican is now but a memory of the past. The last time I saw
the wharves of the Hudson Bay Company's post at Norway House piled up
with bags of pemmican, was in 1871. This pemmican was pounded buffalo
meat, mixed with the tallow and preserved in large bags made out of the
green hides of the slaughtered animals, and was the food that for some
months of each year gave variety to our fish diet. It was healthy and
nourishing to persons of good appetites and unimpaired digestive organs;
but to those not to the "manner born," or unaccustomed to it all their
days, it appeared, whether cooked or raw, as partaking more of the
nature of soap grease, than of anything more inviting. Cut it has gone
to return no more: much to the satisfaction of some, and to the regret
of others.
I and my Indian fishermen used to catch about ten thousand white fish in
gill nets every October and November. These we hung up on great stages
where they froze as solid as stones. A few hundred we would pack away
in the snow and ice for use in the following May, when those left on the
stages began to suffer from the effects of the spring warmth. These ten
thousand fish were needed by the missionary's family and his dogs: the
faithful dogs, from whom so much was required, lived on them all the
time, while the missionary's family had them on the table twenty-one
times a week for six months.
During the winter we had certain varieties of game which I shot, or
which the Indian hunters brought in and exchanged with us for tea,
sugar, cotton, flannels, or other things. All trade was done by barter,
as there was no money then in the land. During the spring and summer
months, occasionally, a wild goose or some ducks were obtained, and
proved acceptable additions to our bill of fare.
Once or twice during the summer the boats of the Hudson Bay Company--the
great trading corporation of the country--brought us from civilisation,
our yearly supplies. These consisted of: a few bags of flour, a keg of
bolster, a can of coal oil, tea, sugar, soap, and medicines. They also
brought an assortment of plain, but good, articles of clothing and dry
goods which we required in our own household, and with which we also
paid the Indians whom we had to hire, as fishermen, dog-drivers,
canoemen or guides on my long journeys over the great mission field
which was several hundreds of miles square.
So many were the calls upon us on account of the sickness and terrible
poverty of the people, that often our little stock of flour was soon
gone. Other luxuries quickly followed, and is the mission home, as in
the wigwams of the natives, the great staple was fish, fish, fish.
So many have inquired how Mrs Young and I managed so long to live and
thrive, and keep up our health and spirits, on an almost exclusive fish
diet, that I will here give the plan we pursued.
We were in good health, and charmed with, and thankful for, our work.
We both had so much to do, and were kept very busy either in our own
cosy little log house home, or outside among the Indians, that our
appetites were generally very good and we were ready for our meals as
soon as they were ready for us. Still, after all, the very monotony of
the unchangeable fish diet sometimes proved too much for us. We would,
perhaps, be seated at the break fast table, neither of us with any
appetite for the fish before us. We would sip away at our cups of tea
without apparently noticing that the fish were untested, and chat about
our plans for the day.
"My dear," I would say, "what are you going to do to-day?"
"I am going to have Kennedy harness up my dogs, and drive me up the
river to Playgreen point to see how that old sick woman is getting on
and take her the warm blanket I promised her. I will also stop to see
how those sick babies are, and how Nancy's little twins are prospering.
In the afternoon I want to drive over to York village and see
Oosememou's sick wife--What is your day's programme?"
To my good wife's question, my answer would be after this fashion:
"Well, first of all, as word has come that the wolves have been visiting
our fish-cache, Martin Papanekis and I have arranged to drive over there
with the dogs to see the extent of the damage. We may be detained some
hours making the place so strong, that if they visit it again, which is
likely, they will be unable to reach the fish. Then we will spend the
rest of the day in that vicinity, visiting and praying with the
neighbours."
Having taken our tea, we had prayers, and soon after began to carry out
the programmes of the day.
For several winters we kept for our varied duties, a number of dogs.
Mrs Young and I each had our favourite dog-trains. So widely scattered
were the Indians, and for such diverse reasons did they look to us and
claim our attention, that our lives were full, not only of solicitude
for their welfare, but we were, sometimes for days together kept on the
"go," often travelling many miles each day in visiting the sick and
afflicted, and in looking after the interests of those who needed our
personal help.
On that particular day in which the conversation above recorded was
held, it was after dark ere our work was accomplished and we met in our
little dining-room for our evening meal. It was really the first meal
of the day; for we had a tacit understanding that when these times
arrived that we could not really enjoy our fish diet, we would
resolutely put in the whole days work without tasting food. The result
was, that when we drew up to the table after having refused the morning
breakfast, and ignored the midday meal, we found that our appetite, even
for fish, had returned, and we enjoyed them greatly. And what was more,
the appetite for them remained with us for some considerable time
thereafter.
Hunger is still a good sauce; and we found--and others also have made
the same discovery--that when the appetite fails and there is a tendency
to criticise, or find fault with the food, or even with the cook, a
voluntary abstinence for two or three meals will be most beneficial for
mind and body, and bring back a very decided appreciation of some of
God's good gifts which hitherto had been little esteemed.
Of course the great and prominent work was the preaching of the Gospel
and the teaching of the people to read the Word of God. To this latter
work we devote a full chapter and so need not refer to it here. Next
perhaps to the direct results obtained by the preaching of the Word, we
accomplished the most good by the medical work.
Indians are fond of medicine and are believers in large doses. The
hotter the dose is with cayenne pepper, or the more bitter with any
powerful drug, the more it is relished, and the greater faith they have
in its power to effect a cure. Various were the expedients of some of
them to induce us to give them a good strong cup of tea, made doubly hot
with red pepper. In their estimation such a dose was good for almost
any disease with which they could be afflicted, and was especially
welcomed in the cold and wintry days, when the mercury was frozen hard,
and the spirit thermometer indicated anything between forty and sixty
degrees below zero.
Practical sympathy never failed to reach some hearts, and so influenced
them, that they were ultimately brought to Christ.
So poverty stricken were the people, that the opportunities of helping
them were many. Looked at from our standpoint of comfort, they had very
little with which to make themselves happy. Few indeed were their
possessions. Owning the land in common, there was in it no wealth to
any one of them; but neither were there any landlords, or rents. All
their other possessions were their wigwams, traps, nets, guns, canoes,
dogs, and clothing. They lived from hand to mouth, as they had no
facilities for keeping any surplus food even if they were ever fortunate
enough to secure more than they needed for their immediate wants. If
some were successful in killing a number of deer or bears, they made but
little attempt at trying to dry or preserve some of the meat for future
use. Very rarely, a little deer-pemmican would be made out of some of
the venison; but this was an exceptional case. The general plan, was to
keep open house after a successful hunt, with the pot boiling
continually, everybody welcomed and told to eat heartily while the
supply lasted. He was considered a mean man indeed, who, being
fortunate in killing a large quantity of game, did not share it with all
who happened to come along. This hospitality was often earned to such
an extent, that there would be but very little left for the hunter
himself, or for his own family.
Thus, life among the Indians for long generations, was a kind of
communism. No unfortunate one actually starved to death in the village
so long as there was a whitefish or a haunch of venison in the
community. It was feast together when plenty comes; starve together
when plenty goes. They could not at first understand why, when the
missionary had anything in his mission house, he hesitated about giving
it out to any one who said he was hungry. This plan, of once a year
getting in front the outside world supplies to last a whole year, was
indeed a mystery to them. They had an idea that it was very nice to see
so many things coming in by the company's boats; but when they were once
in the house, the pagan Indians thought that they should be used up as
quickly as anybody asked for them. The practice of rationing out the
supplies to last for twelve months, was a style of procedure that more
than once exposed a missionary, who rigidly adhered to it, to be thought
mean, stingy, and very unfriendly. They even questioned the
truthfulness of one frugal, careful missionary, who carried out this
system. When asked to help some hungry Indians, he refused on the plea
that he had nothing left, knowing that that month's supply was gone.
They reasoned from the fact, that, they knew that he had the balance of
his year's supply stored away.
One very interesting phase of our work, was to help the Indian families,
who had moved from a wigwam into a cosy little house, into the mysteries
of civilised housekeeping. It is true that these houses were not very
large or imposing. They were generally built only of logs, well chinked
up with moss and mud, and consisted of but one room, with the fireplace
in the end or side. As the people were able, they put up partitions and
added various little conveniences. At first, when a family moved into
one of these homes, some of its members would be very much inclined to
keep to their wigwam habits. As these were very shiftless, and far
below what we considered to be their possibilities of methodical and
tidy housekeeping, some practical lessons had to be given. As they were
willing to learn, various plans and methods were adopted to help them.
The following was the most successful and perhaps on the whole, to all
concerned, the most interesting. When we were aware that some new
houses had been erected and taken possession of by families who had
known no other habitations than their wigwams, I would announce from the
pulpit on Sabbath, that during the week, in connection with my pastoral
visitations, Mrs Young and I would dine at Pugamagon's house on Monday,
on Tuesday with Oostasemou, and on Wednesday with Oosememou. These
announcements at first caused great consternation among the families
mentioned. When the services were over and we were leaving the church,
we would be accosted by the men whose names I had mentioned, generally
in words like these:
"Could we believe our ears to-day, when we thought we heard you say,
that you and Ookemasquao, (Mrs Young's Indian name) were coming over to
dine with us?"
"Certainly, your ears are all right. That is what they heard, and that
is what we are thinking of doing," would be our answer.
"Nothing but fish, have we to set before you," would generally be their
reply, uttered in tones of regret.
"Well, that is all right. It is what we generally eat at home," we
would reply.
"Well, but we have no table as yet, or chairs, or dishes fit for you,"
would be their next objection.
"That is all right, we are coming."
Meantime, their half frightened wives would be seen standing behind
their husbands, most attentively listening to the conversation.
When they found that this enumeration of the lack of variety of food and
the poverty of their new homes, could not deter us from our
determination to dine with them, almost in desperation they would say:
"Well, what are we to do to be ready to receive you?"
"That is the very question we wanted you to ask," I would reply. "Now I
will tell you what is in our hearts. Have plenty of your fish ready and
we will look after the rest of the dinner. But there are several other
things about which we are anxious, and to which we want you to attend:
first, we want to see when we visit you, how very clean and sweet your
new house will be; then, we are also anxious to see, how neat and tidy
the members of the family will be; we also wish to see, how bright and
polished all your kettles, pots, and plates, will be. We are both
coming to your homes as I announced, so be on the lookout and ready for
us. I believe we will all have a good time."
Somewhat relieved by this interview, they would start off to their
homes.
Soon after breakfast on Monday morning, Mrs Young would have her own
dog-train and cariole brought up to the door, aid aided by willing
hands, the cariole would be quickly loaded up for the visit to the
Indian home announced for that day's visit.
Perhaps it is but right here to state, that we never inflicted these
visits upon our Indians except when we had abundance of supplies of some
kind or other in the mission house, and were thus able to carry over
sufficient, with the fish the family supplied, for a hearty meal. So,
in her cariole Mrs Young had, not only this liberal supply of food,
with plenty of tea and sugar, but a large tablecloth, dishes, knives,
forks, spoons, and other essentials. About nine o'clock she was driven
over to the home, where, with a certain amount of trepidation, the
expectant family were awaiting her coming. They had been at work very
early and never did a floor made of well-planed spruce boards shine
whiter. For hours it had been scrubbed; an unlimited amount of
elbow-grease aided by some soft soap made out of strong lye and the
grease of a fat dog, had done the work most completely. The faces of
the children showed that they had been most thoroughly polished, while
all the family were arrayed in their Sunday apparel. Every kettle and
pot bore evidence of the early hour at which the family had arisen and
begun operations.
The instructions given to me, were, that I was not to put in an
appearance until about half-past twelve, and I was so interested that I
was generally on time.
It was a very gratifying sight that met me, and a very cordial welcome
that I received. Every member of the family was simply radiant with
happiness and my good wife had most thoroughly caught the contagion of
the hour. I, of course, shook hands all round and kissed the fat little
baby in its quaint, moss-bag cradle. Then, we were speedily informed of
what was very evident, that dinner was ready. There was not a chair or
table in the house. The snow white tablecloth was spread out on the
almost equally snow white floor, and upon it were placed in order
plates, cups, and saucers, knives and forks. Then the dinner which had
been cooked in various pots, and pans, at the capacious fireplace, was
served up, or rather, down, and in our assigned places we seated
ourselves Indian-like, upon the floor. After heaven's blessing was
asked, the feast began. The menu was not very elaborate. Spoiled
children of luxury, with lost appetites, might have sneered at it, but
to us in that land, and especially to this happy Indian family, it was
one of the great events of their lives. The missionary and his wife
were happy because they saw these poor people so happy.
For perhaps three hours, Mrs Young, had been the instructor of that
Indian motherland her daughters, as under her direction they prepared
that dinner, and they were very proud of their teacher.
The dinner was pronounced a great success, and after it was over, and
all had had an abundance, the Bible in the syllabic characters, was
brought out and read, when all devoutly kneeling, the missionary with a
glad heart offered up an earnest prayer for heaven's blessing ever to
abide upon that home.
After prayers I was expected to leave, while Mrs Young remained for the
rest of the day. When she returned to our mission home in the evening,
tired, but very happy over her day's work, she would give me some
glimpses into the doings of the afternoon. Of course, the first thing,
was to teach the women how, nicely and carefully, to wash and put away
the dishes; then, the house was once more swept up, when they were ready
for the afternoons work. Sometimes the happy Indian mother was able to
bring out a nice piece of dress cloth, which her now kind. Christian
husband, had bought for her in exchange for his valuable furs. This
dress piece had to be cut and fitted by Mrs Young. When asked as to
how she wished to have it made she would generally say:
"Please, Ookemasquao, cut it out so that it will be like the one you had
on in church, last Sunday."
So, as far as possible, the dress was cut and fitted in that style, the
sewing of it commenced, and full instructions given so that the owner
might go on working, until she became perplexed with its intricacies,
when she would come to the mission house for help, and so on until the
work was completed.
In addition to thus helping in dressmaking there were lessons to be
given in patching and darning, and in lengthening out, or adding to, the
dresses of the rapidly growing Indian girls.
Thus, from house to house we went, and for long years after the good
results of those visits remained; thus, was a noble ambition stirred in
those Indian women's lives to try and keep house like Ookemasquao; and
thus, they endeavoured to let their husbands and children see, that no
longer did they wish to live in the careless way of the old pagan life,
but, as now they had become Christians in their profession, so in their
homes, they would have the neatness and cleanliness, that should belong
to those who are thus called.