Like nearly all of the pagan Indians, Sandy had prejudices against
women, and it was hard at first to get him to pay any attention to what
the missionary's wife said. He thought it humiliating and degrading to
obey, or even to pay any attention to a woman's request. Yet we both
treated him with the greatest kindness, and hoped and prayed, that time
and the grace of God would work the changes needed for him.
He was a bright scholar and made rapid progress in his studies, and in a
few months was able to read in his own language. For a time, the
novelty of his new surroundings kept him interested, and he seemed quite
at home. He made many friends among our Christian Indians, who, on
learning of the peculiar way in which he had been thrown upon our hands,
became much interested in him. He went to Sunday school, and also
attended the various services in the church; but for a long time it
seemed as though it was only in the spirit of mere idle curiosity, or
because others did so.
When the first long winter after his arrival had ended, and the
springtime had come again, Sandy became very homesick and longed to go
back to his far-off wigwam abode. The sight of rippling waters and
running streams was too much for his wild untamed spirit, and he chafed
under the discipline of a civilised home, and became dejected and
miserable. We all noticed his restlessness; but talked kindly to him,
and urged him to apply himself to his lessons, that he might the sooner
be able to return to his wild free life in his distant home. But
Indian-like, the more we said to him, the worse he seemed to become,
until he made it very uncomfortable for us all.
One day instead of going to school, he hobbled away on his crutches to a
picturesque point of land which jutted far out into the lake. In the
evening, the teacher came to the mission house and inquired why Sandy
had not been at school that day. This of course was news to us. We
were at once much alarmed, and immediately began searching for the
absentee. After about an hour's search, in which quite a number of
Indians took part, Sandy was found curled up among the rocks on the
point, crying bitterly for his Nelson River home.
Having exhausted all my persuasive powers, I saw that I must change my
style of dealing with him. So, appearing to be very indignant, I picked
up a large stick, and, rushing at him, sternly ordered him to get up and
return to our house as quickly as possible. With a frightened glance
into my face to see how much I meant, he sprang up and hurried back to
the mission house, I gave him a severe reprimanding, asking him, among
other things if he thought such conduct on his part was a fair return
for all our kindness to him. Then I said to him sharply:
"Go up to your room and bring down all your torn and soiled clothes and
moccasins."
With a sad look he obeyed, and soon returned with his bundle. After
looking over the lot, I took them away from him; and, calling in an
Indian woman, gave her some soap and sewing material, and told her to
take all of those things, wash and mend them nicely, bring them back to
me, and I would pay her for her trouble. When he saw his clothes going
away, he was in great perplexity and distress as he was not at all sure
that they would be returned to him. The fact was, he had a good deal of
vanity about him in those days, and I made the discovery that he had
become very proud of the clothes we had given him in place of the
wretched ones in which he had been brought to us. So, the threatened
loss of all he had except what he wore, was to him a dire calamity, I
let him grieve for some hours, saying but little to him, resolved to put
a stop to his nonsense which was only making himself and others
miserable.
When the bundle of clean clothing returned, I added to it new pants,
shirts, moccasins, a bright handkerchief, and a hat; then, in the
kindest way possible, with loving words. I gave him the whole bundle.
Poor boy! he was bewildered and amazed. He could not speak his thanks;
but his glistening tear dimmed eyes told us that he was cured and
conquered. Never did the stern lesson have to be repeated.
But he was greatly perplexed. It was such different treatment from that
to which he had been accustomed. This combination of sternness and
kindness, was to him such a mystery, that he evidently could not stop
thinking and wondering about it. So, one day when he had nothing to do,
he went over to have a talk on the subject with one of the Indians who
was a sensible Christian man and a great friend of his.
"I cannot make out our missionary," said Sandy. "When he came after me
to the point where I had hid, he seemed very angry, and took up a big
stick as if to strike me. Indeed, he nearly frightened the life out of
me although he did not once hit me. Then, after ordering me back to the
house in such a hurry, he made me bring out all my clothes, and gave
them to a woman to carry away. Of course I never expected to see them
again: but I did--they came back clean and mended, and he had added a
lot more to them. I cannot understand it. The missionary at first
seemed as though he would thrash me, then he turned round and gave me
all these good things."
From the Christian Indian to whom Sandy had gone, we afterward learned
all about this interview. He said he let the lad tell him of his
perplexities, and then gave him a long faithful talk. Here is the
substance of his reply to Sandy.
"The missionary and his kind wife have come here to do us good. They
have left their friends far away. They were many days on their journey
to this land, and have suffered many hardships. When your friends
brought you here, they took you into their home and treated you, not as
a servant, but as one of their own family. There is not an Indian in
the village but would be glad to change places with you, and to be
treated as you have been. If they have food, they share it equally with
you. You have had medicine and bandages for your sore leg. You are
well dressed. They have been like parents to you. Yet you have not
been grateful. You acted very foolishly. You ran away from school and
hid yourself. You made their hearts alarmed for fear some serious
accident had happened to you. The worst is, you do not obey Ookemasquao
(the missionary's wife,) as you ought. White ladies are to be as much
obeyed and respected as men. Yet in spite of all your foolishness and
stubbornness, they have been very patient with you. They kept hoping,
that as you grew older you would grow wiser; but you have been getting
so much worse lately, that the missionary has had to deal sternly with
you. He, however, felt sorry for you; his heart was kind toward you all
the time; and so, when you went back, he showed his love to you by his
presents. We all see, that the missionary and his wife have nothing in
their hearts toward you but love. But you must be obedient, and you
ought to be thankful. They are praying much for you, and hoping that
you will yet become a good Christian, and at some future time, be a
great blessing to your own people."
Thus this sensible Christian Indian talked to Sandy, and it was to him a
revelation. From that day there was a decided change in him for the
better. He became obedient and studious, and was ever anxious to do
what he could in return for the kindnesses shown to him. He was a
capital shot, and he and I had some fine bunting and fishing excursions
together. As his lameness interfered with successful hunting on land,
but not with his dexterity in handling the paddle, I purchased for him a
light canoe in which he made many short excursions.
Like all Indian boys, he was very clever with the bow and arrow. I
remember an exhibition, of his quickness and skill that almost amazed
me. I had taken him with me on a shooting excursion to a place which
was called the Old Fort. It was so named from the fact, that many years
before, the Hudson Bay Company had a trading post there for traffic with
the Indians. It had been abandoned for many years, but in its vicinity
were some capital hunting grounds. This spot to which Sandy and I had
gone for ducks, was about twenty miles from our home. We had paddled
that distance in our canoe, and were quite successful in replenishing
our larder. While carefully paddling along, we saw a fine large mallard
duck swimming quite a distance ahead. When we thought we were within
range, Sandy, who was in the bow of the canoe, carefully raised his gun
and fired. Whether it was owing to the movement of the canoe or not I
cannot say; but he missed the duck. Quick as a flash he threw down his
gun, and, catching up his bow and arrow, fired at the duck which of
course had instantly risen, and was flying away directly in front of us.
Imagine my surprise and delight, to see the arrow wing its way so
unerringly, that it pierced the duck, and brought it suddenly down into
the river.
Thus Sandy not only became a wiser and a better boy, but at times he was
quite helpful in his way, and returned from some hunting excursions with
quite a variety of small game which added considerably to our household
bill of fare. We praised him for his skill and industry and very
quickly discovered, that kind loving words were the highest reward which
could be given him. Poor boy! he had had but few of them in paganism;
and now from us, whom he had learned to respect and love, they were as
water to a thirsty soul.