About a year after this unpleasantness with Sandy, a very gracious
revival began among our Indians, extending far and wide. It was the
fruit of years of teaching and preaching by numbers of devoted
missionaries, and of much personal effort to bring the people to a
decision for Christianity. I had observed with great joy, that the
prayer-meetings and other social religious services, were largely
increased by the attendance of Indians who had been under religious
influences for a long time, but had not yet fully given themselves to
Christ. Even among the pagan Indians there was less opposition to
Christianity, and a greater willingness to hear the Word than ever
before. At times this spirit showed itself in a way that to most people
would have seemed to savour much of selfishness. For example, one day,
very early in the morning, the chief came rushing into our mission
house, and gave utterance to this extraordinary statement:
"Missionary, there are a lot of pagan Indians at the Fort. They are the
ones you were talking to about becoming Christians. I have just come
from visiting them, and have been urging them to give up their old way;
they said to me, `Tell your missionary, if he will give us one good
square meal of potatoes, we will come and hear him preach three times!'"
Doubtless many will smile at this quaint offer--this queer exchange of
commodities; yet we who were on the ground, and remembered the haughty
stubborness of those same Indians only a short time before, were glad to
hear thus from them. We promptly accepted the challenge and furnished
the potatoes. What appetites they had! But they carried out their
share of the contract, and listened attentively--and smoked--during the
three services. They were always friendly afterward; and, in subsequent
years, a number of them became sincere Christians. It pays to get the
truth into the heart, even if we have to begin by filling the stomach
with potatoes!
So anxious had Sandy become to win our approval, that we knew he was
willing and courageous enough to take any stand we suggested. But we
were so very anxious that his decision for Christ should be built on a
deeper, firmer foundation than a mere desire to please us, that, in
talking with him, we used no special personal persuasion to bring him to
a decision for the Lord Jesus. It was evident to us by his life that
the Good Spirit was graciously working upon his heart, and that he was
under deep religious conviction.
And soon the blessed hour came. One afternoon, while I was urging upon
the large audience who had assembled in the church the privilege and
necessity of immediate decision for Christ, Sandy, with others, sprang
up from his seat near the door and came forward for prayer. His first
audible petition still rings in my ear as though uttered but yesterday:
"O Tapa-yechekayan Kiss-awa-totawenan!" (Oh Lord, have mercy upon me!)
I knelt beside him and pointed him to the dear Saviour--the sinners
Friend. I quoted the sweet promises of the blessed Book, and assured
him they were for him. He wept, and was deeply anxious for the
assurance that even, he had a personal interest in the crucified One.
Earnest prayers were offered for him and others, who, like him, were
seeking the Pearl of great price. We talked to him of the love of God
as revealed in Jesus. We tried to explain to him the way of faith--the
simple plan of salvation. That best of all Teachers, that infallible
Guide, the Holy Spirit, applied the truth to his heart; and our dear
Sandy saw the way, and believed unreservedly in the Lord Jesus. He was
a sweet singer, and had often joined with us in our songs of devotion at
our family altar; but now as never before he sang in his own musical
language the translation of the verse "My God is reconciled," etcetera.
"Ma' to noo-too-ta-min
Ne-pa-tan a-e-sit,
Ak-wa a-wa-ko-mit
Na-ma-ne-say-ke-sin,
Wa-na-tuk-ne-pa-hi-to-tan
Abba No-ta a-e-tae-yan."
Need we add that our Indian boy, so strangely thrown on our care, was
doubly dear and precious to as from that hour! We had had our long
months of trouble and anxiety about him, and friends, both white and
Indian, had thought, and had told us, that what we were doing for him
was, "love's labour lost." How thankful we were at this glad hour of
his clear and beautiful conversion, that we had persevered? We never
could help feeling that his coming to us was from God, and in spite of
all the discouragements, we had not dared to give up our charge. We had
accepted it as a trust although it became a trial of patience; yet when
the clouds cleaved away, we had our exceeding great reward.
From that day, his presence in our humble mission home was a
benediction. He became a very devout and reverent student of the Word
of God; and as its blessed truths opened up before him, he had many
questions to ask, so that we had many loving talks about the holy Book.
Often his heart overflowed with gratitude and thanksgiving to God, and
he would exclaim--
"O missionary, these words are very sweet to my heart!"
To spend hours on his knees with his open Bible before him, was no
uncommon thing for Sandy. And when he came down from his upper room
with his face radiant, he would sometimes exclaim:
"Oh, how blind and stupid I was! I used to think that the white man's
religion was just like the Indian's, only performed in another way, but
now I know--yes I know it is different: oh so different! For do I not
feel it in my heart, that God is my Father, and His Son is my Saviour,
my Elder Brother! Oh yes, I know! I know!"
Then he would burst into song, asking us to join with him, which we
often did gladly; and heaven seemed nearer while we sang.
Thus, he lived with us as a son in our home. He studied hard, and grew
physically and spiritually. His faith never wavered, and his simple
trust never gave way to doubt. He was a benediction in the schoolroom,
and the transformation of a number of wild Indian lads into loving,
docile pupils, was the result of his kindly influence over them.
The long cold winter came and passed away. During it I travelled some
thousands of miles on my dog-sleds, or tramped through, the deep snow,
day after day, on my snow shoes. Among other places, I visited Nelson
River, and had the great pleasure of taking down some little gifts from
Sandy to his relatives.
The following summer, I again visited his people and had the joy of
telling them, that he was well and was making rapid progress in his
studies. Great was their rejoicings at this good news.
On these trips we had our usual amount of hardships and dangers, and met
with some peculiar adventures. One that very much interested us all,
and for a time much excited me, was our discovery of a bear fishing, and
our capture of his supplies. He was a fine large black fellow, and had
seated himself on a rock near the shore. Between this rock and the
shore rushed a little portion of the great river, in which quite a shoal
of white fish seemed to have been spawning. The sharp eyes of the bear
having detected them, he had resolved to capture a number of them for
his supper. His hand-like paw was all the fishing tackle he needed. He
very skilfully thrust it low down into the water under the passing fish,
and with a sudden movement sent the finny beauty flying through the air,
and out upon the not very distant shore. When our canoe appeared around
a bend in the river, his fine sense of hearing detected our approach.
At first, he seemed to show fight, and acted as though he would defend
his fish; but a bullet caused him to change his mind about fighting, and
he fled into the forest leaving us to enjoy his splendid fish. Good
fish indeed they were, and quite sufficient for our evening and morning
meals, in spite of the good appetites which such a glorious out-of-door
life had given us.