She was not a bad looking woman, but she had such a sorrowful face that
never seemed to have on it a smile. Mrs Young and I had both noticed
this, and had spoken to each other about it. Her name was Betsy. She
was the wife of an Indian whose name was Atenou, but who, when baptised,
had, like most of his countrymen, asked for the addition to it of an
English name, and so was known as Robert Atenou. His record seemed to
be that of a quiet, industrious sort of an Indian, who fished and hunted
as did the rest, and gave trouble to none. As he, like many of his
people, was gifted with readiness of utterance, and was very faithful in
his attendance at all of the religious services, and seemed to be living
a godly life, he had been, given an official position in the church,
which, he very much appreciated.
It was noticed however, that Robert's advancement in the church, did not
seem to remove the cloud that was on his wife's face. While the other
women were so bright and happy and thankful at the change which
Christianity had brought into their lives, and were at times not slow in
speaking about it, she was a very marked exception.
Not wishing to pry into her affairs, while perplexed, we were obliged
for a time to remain in the dark, and could only conjecture as to the
cause.
Perhaps the most marvellous and conspicuous evidence of the blessedness
of the Gospel, next to its divine power in the salvation of the soul, is
to be seen in the glorious way in which it uplifts women. Sad indeed is
the condition of women in lands unreached by the blessed influences of
Christianity. He whose wonderful and tender love for His mother, and
for the goodly women who ministered to Him, was so manifested when He
walked this earth of ours, is Jesus still. And wherever His name is
successfully proclaimed, and hearts opened to receive Him, there at once
is a glorious uplifting of woman from a condition of inferiority and
degradation, into one where she is honoured and respected.
The northern Indian tribes on this continent, while not very warlike, or
much in the habit of going after the scalps of their enemies, had other
crimes and sins, which showed that they were fallen and sinful, and much
in need of the Gospel. Among the defects and wickednesses of the men,
was the almost universal contempt for, and cruelty to the women. If a
man spoke or acted kindly to his wife, or mother, or daughter, it was by
them considered a sign of weakness and effeminacy. To be harsh and cold
toward the women, was supposed to be one of the signs of the ideal
Indian toward which they were ever striving. All manual labour, apart
from hunting and fishing, was considered degrading to be left to the
women, and some, as much as possible, even left the fishing to them.
Where there were no tribal wars, the perfect Indian was only the great
hunter. And with the great hunter, his work ended when the game was
killed. If it were at all possible to send his wife or mother to the
spot where the animal lay, that his arrow or gun had brought down, he
would scorn to carry or drag it back to camp. He had killed the bear,
or moose, or reindeer, or whatever animal it might happen to be, and now
it was woman's work to take it to the wigwam, and as quickly as possible
prepare for him his meal. Thus we have seen the great stalwart
six-footed hunter come stalking into the village with his gun upon his
shoulder, while the poor mother, or wife, or daughter, came trudging on
behind, almost crushed down with the weight of the game upon her back.
He carried the gun--she the game.
Then, no matter how tired she might be with the heavy burden, no time
was allowed for rest. With a quick harsh "kinipe" (hurry); she was soon
at work. The skin was quickly and skilfully removed, and some of the
savoury meat was cooked and placed before her husband or son. Not a
mouthful would she be allowed to taste until the despot had leisurely
finished, unless it were to pick some of the bones which he
condescendingly threw to her, as, at a distance from him, she sat with
the girls and dogs. Thus she was treated as a slave, or drudge, or
beast of burden. Then when sickness or old age came on, and she became
unable to work and toil and slave, she was without mercy put out of
existence: the usual method being strangulation.
This was the sad condition of women in various parts of this great
continent ere the Gospel reached the Indian tribes. Very marvellous and
striking have been the transformations which we have witnessed among
those to whom we had gone with the truth. At some places we witnessed
changes wrought by the labours of the worthy men who had preceded us; in
other places we were permitted both to sow the seed and see the glorious
harvest.
Although, from the white man's standpoint the people here were poor, yet
the little houses, where were the followers of the Lord Jesus, were
homes of happiness, and the spirit of kindliness and affection
everywhere prevailed. There men and women lived on terms of equality.
No longer did the men eat alone and of the best of the game and fish,
but all together men and women, boys and girls as one loving family,
shared proportionately what had been secured. The result was, there was
a spirit of contentment and happiness in our mission village that was
very gratifying.
However, amidst these happy faces and notes of thanksgiving, here was
this one sorrowful face and silent tongue. What was the cause? The
truth came out at last, and in a way that was almost dramatic.
Mrs Young and I were busy one day with our routine duties, when Betsy
came into our home, and hardly taking time enough to give the usual
morning salutation exclaimed in a most decided way; "Robert is not kind
to me, and does not treat me like the other men, who profess to be
Christians, treat their wives."
This strong emphatic remark startled us, and at once gave us the clue to
the cause of the sorrowful face. At first we hardly knew just how to
answer such an emphatic utterance, and so in silence waited for her to
proceed. But there she sat quietly her face nearly hidden in her black
shawl, seeming to be afraid to proceed further. So we had at length to
break the awkward silence, by saying we were very sorry to hear her
words and could not understand their meaning, as Robert seemed to be a
very good man, and an earnest Christian.
This at once caused her to break her silence, and turning around to me,
she said:
"Yes, that is it. If he did not so profess to be a Christian, I would
never mind it, and would silently bear it; but he _professes_ to be a
Christian, and does not treat me in the way in which the other Christian
men treat their wives."
Then she quieted down, and in a very straightforward way told us her
story, which was as follows:
"When Robert goes out and shoots a deer, it is true he does not come
home with the gun upon his shoulder, and make me go out on his trail and
bring in the game; he brings it in himself, like the other Christian
Indians; but when it is brought in, he makes me skin it; and then takes
the two haunches over to the fort, and there exchanges them with the
fur-traders for some flour, tea and sugar, which he brings home. I have
to cook for him a fore-shoulder of the deer, make cakes at the fire, out
of his flour, and then when the tea is made and supper is ready, sit and
watch him, and our boys, and any men visitors who happen to be there--
and a number are generally around by that time--eat until all is
consumed. He never gives any of these good things to me, or to the
girls. We have to go out in a canoe, and, with a net, catch some fish
for our food. And yet," she added, with some bitterness, "he calls
himself a Christian; and treats us in this way, as though he had never
heard the missionary."
Of course we were both indignant as she told her story, and were not
slow in letting her know of our annoyance at her having been, so
treated. But wife-like, and woman-like, when I said:
"Robert shall hear of this, and shall be straightened out forthwith,"
her fears were aroused, and it seemed as though she were now frightened
at what she had said. However there was not much difficulty in quieting
her fears, although at first it did seem as though she would rush out of
the house, and return to her tent, and submit to the humiliating life
which she saw should not have continued so long.
After a little consultation with Mrs Young, our course of action was
agreed upon. It was, that Betsy should be kept at the mission house
until I had assembled in the church a number of the elderly Christian
men; and later Robert, whom we learned from his wife was then at his
tent, was to be summoned.
But little time was required in which to gather the men I wanted, as
most of the people were then at their homes. They were completely in
the dark as to the object for which I had called them together. When in
the church. I sent for Mrs Young and Betsy to join us. Poor Betsy was
now so frightened, that it seemed as if, like a startled deer, she would
run to the woods. However, she was in good hands. Mrs Young spoke
soothing words, and cheered her much by telling her, that what she had
done in coming to us with the story of her wrongs was perfectly right,
and that very soon every thing would be cleared up.
Shortly after the two women came in and took seats together, Robert, for
whom I had sent two men, walked in.
At first he was much surprised at the gathering, and especially puzzled
and perplexed at seeing his wife sitting there by the side of the wife
of the missionary. Before he could say anything, I pointed out a seat
for him where he would be in full view of his brother Indians, and yet,
where his presence would not overawe, or crush down his wife. Soon
after, I locked the church door and said:
"Let us pray."
After prayers I turned to Betsy, and said:
"Now Betsy, if what you told Mrs Young and me in the mission house is
true, and I believe it is, I want you now to tell the story over again
that these Christian men may hear it. Never mind the fact of Robert's
being here; if he is a Christian, as he says he is, the hearing of it
will, I hope, do him good."
The faces of those Indians were studies. None knew, not even Robert
himself, what Betsy had to say; and so they waited in amazement to hear
her story.
With an encouraging word from Mrs Young, she began; and although at
first she was timid and nervous, she soon recovered her self-possession,
and in a perfectly natural manner told the story of the treatment she
and the girls had received from the hands of her husband. With renewed
emphasis she dwelt on that which seemed to have given her the most
sorrow? "If he had not so professed to be a Christian, I would not have
so much minded it."
Indians are the best listeners in the world. They never interrupt
anyone in his talk. And so, even Robert, who at first was simply
dumbfounded and amazed, controlled himself and held his peace. Very few
white men could have done so. I had purposely so placed him, that if he
had suddenly attempted violence, stronger men could instantly have
restrained him. But nothing of the kind was attempted. As his wife
went on and on, showing the difference between his conduct toward her
and their girls, and that of the other Christian men toward their wives
and daughters, Robert's head went lower and lower, until there he sat,
humiliated and disgraced before his brethren. When Betsy finished her
talk and sat down, I turned to the good men there assembled and merely
said:
"What do you think of such conduct on the part of one who professes to
be a Christian?"
Their indignation knew no bounds. Indian like, they had let Betsy tell
her whole story without any interruption; but the looks on their faces
as she proceeded, told how deeply affected they were. Now that they had
heard her story, it seemed as though they all wanted to speak at ones;
but there are well understood, although unwritten, rules of precedence
among them, so the first in order spoke, and then the second, and then
the third, and so on.
How they did dress the poor fellow down! While it was very severe, it
was Christian and brotherly. They spoke as men who were grieved and
wounded.
"Is this the way you have acted! You, Robert Atenou, who for so long a
time have professed to be a Christian; you, to treat your poor wife and
children like that; as though no Bible, or missionary had come among us!
Now we know why Betsy has been so sad, and did not rejoice like the
other women."
Thus they faithfully chided him, and expressed their sorrow at his
heartless conduct.
Poor Robert, I had soon to pity him. First, of course, I was a little
anxious as to the way in which a once proud-spirited fiery Indian, would
take his wife's arraignment of his misdoings and selfishness, and also
these reprimands from his brethren. However, it turned out all right.
Robert just buried his bronzed face in his hands, and received it all in
silence. When I thought it had gone far enough, and had decided in my
own mind not then and there to question him, I asked for a cessation of
the speaking, and went and opened the church door.
At once Robert arose and left the church.
Not one word had he spoken to anybody.
Betsy, wife-like, wished immediately to follow him, but Mrs Young
persuaded her not to go for a little while. She took the poor
frightened creature into the mission house, gave her a cup of tea and
something to eat, and what she prized more, some loving sympathetic
words. When she did return home, she found that Robert was absent. The
children said that he had come in, and, after saying some kind words to
them, had taken his gun and ammunition and had gone off hunting. He did
not return until the next day, but he had with him a fine deer. This he
skinned himself, and taking the two hind quarters, went as usual to the
fort, and bartered them for flour, tea and sugar. When he returned to
his tent, he handed these things to his wife, and desired her to cook
them as usual. After all had been prepared he had all placed before his
wife, daughters, and sons. Then, telling them to enjoy the meal, he
left the tent. Taking a net, he went out upon the lake in a canoe, and
after some time spent in fishing, was seen cooking and eating his catch
upon the shore.
Thus he lived for weeks. He was a good hunter, and worked most
industriously and successfully. All the game taken, he brought to his
wife and children, upon which he insisted that they should feast, while
he confined himself to a fish diet; although those caught at that season
were far from being the best.
One Saturday evening, as we were standing in the front of our mission
home enjoying the splendours of a most magnificent sunset, we saw Robert
coming up the trail. As he drew near I accosted him kindly, but it was
easy to see that he was in trouble, and that there was "something on his
mind." We chatted about various things, and I encouraged him to speak
out freely. With a sudden effort he broke loose from his feeling of
restraint, and said:
"Missionary, are you going to let me come to the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper to-morrow?"
Four times a year we had this sacramental service, and it was a great
event to our native Christians. In answer to his question I replied:
"Why Robert, what is there to cause me to wish to prevent you from
coming to the Lord's table?"
Looking at me earnestly, he said:
"There is a good deal. Just think of the way I have treated my wife and
daughters!"
"Yes," I said, "I remember that; but I also know how you have been
treating them during the last few weeks."