[Illustration]
Nain was the third station visited on our voyage northward along the
bleak but grand coast of Labrador. Hopedale and Zoar had already been
left behind in the south; Okak, Hebron, and Ramah, all to the north of
Nain, had yet to be touched at in their turn. Each successive station
has its own distinctive features and so presents fresh interest to the
visitor. Nain, the oldest of all, is rich in associations with the
past as well as very interesting in the life, spiritual and temporal,
of the mission-house and the Eskimo dwellings, which constitute this
little Christian village of three hundred inhabitants.
_August 19th._--I take up the story on the Sunday evening, when, about
a quarter past five o'clock, the "Harmony" came to her anchorage some
three to four hundred yards from the mission premises on the north
shore of the Nain bay. It is a mercy when no accident occurs on the
arrival of a ship at a station, for the Eskimoes are rather wild in
their expression of their joy, and rather careless in handling powder.
Just a year ago they burst a little cannon in welcoming the "Gleaner."
The pieces flew in all directions about the heads of those standing
round. Yet by God's great goodness not one was hurt. One man's cap was
knocked off by a flying fragment of iron.
Our first welcome to Nain was from some members of the mission-band,
who at once came aboard the "Harmony" in their boat. Rowing ashore
with them, we visitors received a second kind welcome at the
mission-house. It was rather curious that my fellow-travellers, the
Martins, should arrive at their destination five-and-twenty years to
the day after Mr. Bourquin, whom Mr. Martin is eventually to succeed
in the presidency of this mission. I was conducted to the pleasant
guest chamber. On my table lay two dear letters from home, the first
and last received after leaving Stromness. During our stay at Zoar the
mail steamer came from Newfoundland to Hopedale where she is due every
fortnight, while the coast is free from ice. This time she came on to
Nain, which she is bound to visit twice in the season at the captain's
discretion. She never touches at Zoar between these two stations.
When we met as a family for the evening meal, Mr. Bourquin expressed
our thanks to the Lord for all his goodness and mercy involved in
another safe arrival of the mission-ship. The congregation did the
same at the thanksgiving liturgy, which commenced at 7 P.M. The Church
here is older and larger than any other in the land. The singing was
good, rather quicker than at Hopedale. About forty men and sixty women
occupied the same relative positions to the minister behind the table
and to the missionary brethren and sisters to right and left of him,
as at Hopedale and Zoar. The short benches at each end of the long
church were respectively occupied by three male and three female
chapel servants. The latter were dressed, not in European fashion, but
in the national costume of skin trousers with the fur outside.
9 P.M. I am seated in my room after a pleasant social hour with
interchange of mutual tidings. Every provision has been made for my
comfort in this neat, clean guest-chamber. What interesting scenes of
human life as well as fine views of Labrador scenery are visible from
its windows south and west! Grand rocks from five hundred to eight
hundred feet in height rise nearly perpendicularly from the opposite
shore of the bay. Here comes a man paddling his kayak past the
"Harmony" as she lies at anchor. What is up among the dogs? They are
all howling and running along the beach, and now they have set on one
unfortunate, which is hustled and bitten until he escapes and hobbles
away yelping.
Here is a woman coming to fetch water from the trough. I wish I could
draw her, for she is an odd figure in trousers and high boots. The
tail of her sillapak almost trails on the ground, and in its capacious
hood, a baby is seated looking out on the world with great content.
10 P.M. It has grown dark whilst I have been writing up my diary. What
a concert the dogs are giving us now. They are howling, barking, and
sometimes fairly screaming, each and all contributing their full share
of the unearthly noises. 10.10. All is still: may it last! It is time
I retired to rest, for one must be up betimes; 6 A.M. is the hour in
all these mission-houses, for morning prayers are at 6.30 sharp. One
more look out of my window. The moon is rising above the opposite
hills and casting a broad band of light across the rippling waters.