Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THOMAS CROSBY. From a photo taken in 1874]
Among the An-ko-me-nums
Or Flathead Tribes of Indians of the Pacific Coast,
BY REV. THOMAS CROSBY
Missionary to the Indians of British Columbia.
[Illustration]
TORONTO
WILLIAM BRIGGS
1907
* * * * *
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year
one thousand nine hundred and seven, by
WILLIAM BRIGGS,
at the Department of Agriculture.
INTRODUCTION.
I have been requested to write a few words of introduction to this
deeply interesting volume, and I gladly comply, although the task may
seem to be quite superfluous. Thomas Crosby, or anything he may write,
needs no introduction, at least in Methodist circles. For a generation
his name has been a household word, and from time to time brief
accounts of his heroic labors have found their way through the press
into many homes. But these accounts were fragmentary and incomplete.
They presented some striking incidents, but no connected story of the
man and his work. Such a story Crosby alone could supply, and many will
be glad that he has been induced to begin it; and the hope will be
general that other volumes may follow, covering what is by far the most
interesting period of his life.
It is but seldom that men who lay the foundations of empire get
credit for the achievement. Their work, for the most part, is done
underground and out of sight. They are content to take up the work that
lies nearest, leaving results with God, and are more concerned about
doing their work faithfully than claiming credit for themselves. And
yet all the while they are laying the only foundations on which an
enduring civilization can rest, and are better entitled to the name and
fame of empire-builders than some who have claimed the credit without
doing the work. If it be true that he is a benefactor of his race who
makes two blades of grass grow where one grew before, much more is
he a benefactor whose spiritual husbandry transforms a savage into a
citizen--a pagan into a saint.
A conflict like that in which Thomas Crosby spent his life was no
mere holiday parade. It was a grapple to the death with the powers
of evil, in which no quarter was asked or given. He gave his life
for the redemption of a people for whose souls no man cared, and
fought--sometimes almost single-handed--a life-long battle against
superstition, immorality, and godlessness of every kind. No marvel,
therefore, if he incurred the bitter enmity of the witch-doctor,
the whiskey-trader, and the libertine, and by “lewd fellows of the
baser sort” was the best-hated man in British Columbia. But he
has his reward. By the converting grace of God some bitter foes
were transformed into ardent friends; and as he searched society’s
rubbish-heaps for lost jewels, here and there he found a pearl of great
price that more than compensated for all his toil. Many will join in
the prayer that years of useful service may still be his, and that his
declining years may be brightened by further displays of saving power
among the Red Men of the Pacific Coast.
A. SUTHERLAND.
TORONTO, February, 1907.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. The Flatheads and the “Book of Heaven” 9
II. The Call from Macedonia 21
III. Westward, Ho! 30
IV. At Nanaimo--The School 41
V. Heathen Street _vs._ Christian Street 48
VI. Difficulties with the Language 52
VII. A Slavery worse than Death 60
VIII. Feuds and Bloodshed 67
IX. Houses, Clothing, Cruel Customs 79
X. Courtship and Marriage 88
XI. Foods, Feasts and Follies 99
XII. Native Worship and Superstitions 112
XIII. Struggles with Whiskey, and the Ravages of Fire-water 126
XIV. Some Perilous Canoe Trips 141
XV. Varied Experiences 159
XVI. How the Gospel came to Chilliwack 169
XVII. More of the Chilliwack Revival--Camp-meetings 183
XVIII. The Bunch Grass Country 195
XIX. Marvels of Grace 206
XX. Lay Agencies--Salvation in a Victoria Bar-room 233
XXI. British Columbia--Its Interests and Resources 237
XXII. The Missionary Progress of the Years--Home Again 241
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Portrait of Author _Frontispiece_
Flathead Woman and Child 8
Early Native Types 18
Indian Church and Mission House at Nanaimo 42
Indian Houses, with Group of Heathen Natives 48
“I could see two wild, savage-looking men,” etc. 74
“The great big fellow danced up and down,” etc. 78
Two Flathead Centenarians 86
“One day I slipped in and found the old fellow rattling
over him” 122
Witch Doctor and his Wife--“Coal Tyee”--Crosby teaching
Indian Chief 128
“We were bailing out as hard as we could” 146
First Protestant Church in the Chilliwack Valley 172
Coqualeetza Indian Institute 192
Group of Students, Coqualeetza Institute 198
Amos Cushan--Sarah Shee-at-ston--David Sallosalton--Captain
John Su-a-lis 208
Skowkale Church--Skowkale Mission People 232
The Transformed Bar-room, Victoria 236
[Illustration: FLATHEAD WOMAN AND CHILD (Showing method in use among
these Indians for flattening the heads of the infant children.)]
* * * * *
AMONG THE AN-KO-ME-NUMS.
CHAPTER I. _THE FLATHEADS AND THE “BOOK OF HEAVEN.”_
“They may not want you, but they need you.”
“Far, far away, in heathen darkness dwelling,
Millions of souls forever may be lost.
Who, who will go, Salvation’s story telling,
Looking to Jesus, counting not the cost?”
The An-ko-me-nums, as they call themselves, are a branch of the great
Salish or Flathead family of Indians, whose territory is that part
of the Pacific Coast now known as Northern Oregon, Washington, and
Southern British Columbia.
The Flatheads derive the name from their custom of compressing the
skull in childhood until the whole front of the head is flattened and
broadened.
They live along the great arteries of travel, the Columbia River in the
south, the Fraser River in the north, and their tributaries, as well as
on the shores of those inland waters of the West known as Puget Sound
and the Gulf of Georgia.
Unlike the great nations of the East and of the plains, who possess
something of national unity, they are composed of a number of branches,
speaking languages bearing scarcely any resemblance to each other--the
Chinooks, the Cayuses and the Sinahomish in the south; the Shuswaps
and the Okanagans in the interior of British Columbia; and the
An-ko-me-nums, known under such names as the Cowichans--after tribes on
Vancouver Island, which some believe to be the parent stock--and the
Stawlo, which literally means the River Indians.
These last inhabit the valley of the Fraser River, from Yale to
its mouth, and the east coast of Vancouver Island, from Comox to
Esquimault, and include the Nan-ni-moohs, Cowichans, Songees, Skwamish,
Sumats, Chil-way-uks, and numerous other rival tribes, possessed of the
same manners and customs, but speaking varying dialects of the same
language, and, in earlier days, engaging in the fiercest conflicts with
one another.
The Coast Indians are spoken of, generally, as Siwashes, a term which
the more intelligent resent, and which is taken from the word for
“Indian” in the Chinook or trade jargon.
There is some doubt, however, as to the origin of the word “Siwash.”
By some it is thought to be a corruption of the French word “Sauvage”
(barbarian), as applied by the Nor’westers to the Indians generally.
But in all probability it is a corruption of the generic term “Salish,”
which is given by ethnologists to the whole family, and as such is
improperly applied to the Northern tribes.
THE INDIANS OF BRITISH COLUMBIA.
There are some six distinct races among the Indians of British
Columbia. The Hydah-Kling-get, on Queen Charlotte Islands and the lower
Alaskan coast; the Tsimpshean, in the region of the lower Skeena and
Naas River; the Kwa-kualth, from Kitamaat to Cape Mudge on the mainland
and north-east coast of Vancouver Island; the Salish, of which the
An-ko-me-nums are a division, in the south; the Kootenai and the Déné
or Tinne, in the interior. The At nation, which occupies the west coast
of Vancouver Island, it would appear, is still another race, though
some ethnologists identify them with the Kwa-kualths.
The origin of these various people is much in doubt. The Tinne possibly
came by way of the Aleutian Islands from Asia. The Northern Coast
tribes, Hydahs and Tsimpsheans, may be related to the Filipinos and
the Japanese. Some years ago, when the first Japanese fishermen came
to the Skeena, the Indians immediately claimed them as their “tilikum”
(friends). When the difference in language was pointed out, they
replied, “That does not matter, the Indians speak different languages.
Just look at their hair and their eyes and the color of their skin, is
it not the same as ours? They are surely of our race.” The resemblance
so noted is certainly remarkable.
As for the Salish and Kwa-kualths, the similarity between certain of
their words and those of the Polynesian Islanders has led some to give
them an Oceanic origin.
The various sources from which they possibly sprang will sufficiently
explain the difference in their languages.
EARLY TRADERS.
Very early in the last century the trading ships of various nations
were visiting the coast and bartering their cargoes of firearms, rum
and useless trinkets--beads, bits of iron and brass--for the valuable
furs of the natives.
The first depôt on Vancouver Island was established at Nootka, on the
West Coast, and, a little later, a second, on the mainland near the
mouth of the Columbia. Thus early the Indians were debauched by the
whiskey and vices of the white man, and from that time to the present
have been wretched sufferers.
The great fur companies, the North-west, the Hudson’s Bay and the
Astor, were soon in active competition for the trade of the Pacific
slope. In 1818 the first fort was built on the Columbia at the mouth of
the Walla Walla, and about six years later, in 1824-5, Fort Vancouver
was built, where the waters of the Willamette join the great Columbia.
In 1804-6 the intrepid explorers, Clark and Lewis, made their then
difficult and dangerous journey from the trading post at St. Louis
across the mountains and down the Columbia River to the land of the
Cayuse and Chinooks. Clark seems to have left a deep and favorable
impression upon the mind of the Indians, as will later be seen.
Among these early traders were men of sterling character, who, while
they might not be termed religious, had, nevertheless, a deep reverence
for God and for His wondrous law, some little knowledge of which they
imparted to the native peoples with whom they were engaged in traffic.
We cannot but wonder at the slowness of the Church in not seeing and
seizing her opportunity. She should have been first on the ground, but
was not. The trader preceded her. And finally it was the eager longing
of the heathen themselves, awakened by the Spirit of God, which aroused
the slumbering Church.
IN SEARCH OF THE “BOOK OF HEAVEN.”
In 1832 the Flatheads at the headwaters of the Columbia River met in
council, not painted for war or armed for the chase, but with a look
of earnestness on their faces. They were talking over a strange story
which some wandering trappers had brought to their camps--the story of
the white man’s worship, and the Book that told of God and immortality,
and the presence and power of the “Great Spirit.” They had more than
once held such a council, and they finally concluded that if there was
such a treasure as the Book of Heaven they would try and find it.
They selected one of the old “seams” (chiefs) and a strong-minded brave
of full years, also two young and daring men. These four were sent off
across the mountains in search of the news of the white man’s God, or
the book that would tell of His love.
Leaving their western homes or “lalums,” they turned their faces to
the east, and for many a week they travelled mountain and plain in the
search. They reached St. Louis, then a mere hamlet, known as the far
frontier, a resort of hunters and trappers. One day these four strange
Indians were walking down the street, looking everywhere as if for
hidden treasure. Finally they met Gen. Wm. Clark, whose name the two
older had heard of years before, up in their far away western home, as
he and others were making their way to the western sea.
To him they made known the object of their search. They were kindly
received and well treated, but neither General Clark nor anyone in
that Roman Catholic town helped them to what their hearts longed for.
They waited till they became weary; two of their number sickened and
died, and now the remaining two prepared to go back to the people with
a tale of disappointment. General Clark, knowing the Indians’ love of
ceremony, had a leave-taking in his town. One of the poor Indians, as
they said good-by, made the following touching speech:
“We came to you over a trail of many moons from the setting sun. You
were the friend of our fathers who have all gone the long way. We came,
with our eyes partly opened, for more light for our people who sit in
darkness. We go back with our eyes closed. How can we go back blind
to our blind people? We made our way to you with strong arms, through
many enemies and strange lands, that we might carry back much to our
people. We go back with empty and broken arms. The two fathers who came
with us, the braves of many winters and wars, we leave here always by
your great wigwams. They were tired in their journey of many moons,
and their moccasins were worn out. Our people sent us to get the white
man’s Book of Heaven. You took us where they worship the Great Spirit
with candles, but the Book was not there. You showed us images of good
spirits and pictures of the good land beyond, but the Book was not
among them to tell us the way. You made our feet heavy with burdens and
gifts, and our moccasins will grow old with carrying them, but the Book
is not among them. We are going back the long, sad trail to our people.
When we tell them, after one more snow, in the big council, that we did
not bring the Book, no word will be spoken by our old men, nor by our
young braves. One by one they will rise up and go out in silence. Our
people will die in darkness and they will go on the long path to other
hunting grounds. No white man will go with them, and no Book of Heaven
to make the way plain. We have no more to say.”[1]
Only one lived to reach his people, and with a sad heart he told the
story. Word of this strange visit got into the papers of the East,
among others into the New York _Christian Advocate_. Soon the whole
American church was aroused, and with such men as Nathan Bangs and
Dr. Wilbur Fisk leading the way, it was not long before the Board of
Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church had the money and were ready
to establish “A mission among the Indians west of the Rocky Mountains.”
When the question was asked, “Who will go for us?” Dr. Fisk said,
“I know but one man, Jason Lee.” Mr. Lee was a Canadian, born in
Stanstead, Que. He was converted at twenty-three years of age. A
splendid man, six feet three inches in height, and in every particular
the type of man needed for this new enterprise.
In July, 1833, he was chosen leader of this great missionary adventure;
and in the spring of the following year he, with his brother Daniel and
two laymen, “mounted their horses and followed the Oregon trail.”
On September 17th, 1834, Lee and his party reached Fort Vancouver, on
the Columbia River, and at once began to do all the many kinds of work
which men must do in starting a mission among a wild, savage people.
Lee and his associates were the first missionaries to the Pacific
Coast, the first to the great Salish family of Indians; others
followed.[2]
Lee and his co-laborers planted their mission in the beautiful
Willamette Valley and from the first had wonderful success. A boarding
school was established for the benefit of the Indian children, on the
site of which now stands the Willamette University.
Jason Lee was a preacher of marvellous power, and was the means,
in God’s hands, of the conversion of scores, both among whites and
Indians. He preached the word at Fort Vancouver, and nineteen were
baptized, one being Lady McLaughlin. Dr. John McLaughlin, the Chief
Factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company at this point, paid a fine tribute
to his work when he said to Mr. Lee: “Before you came into the country
we could not send a boat past the Dalles without an armed guard of
sixty men. Now we go up singly, and no one is robbed.”
At a great camp-meeting, held in October, 1841, twelve hundred Indians
attended and about five hundred were converted.
It is a remarkable fact that between the years 1839-41 a great
spiritual awakening, which marvellously affected even heathen tribes,
spread across the whole continent.
Commencing with the great revival under Jason Lee among the Chinooks
of the Columbia, we may follow the route pursued by the Hudson’s Bay
Company’s men, up the Columbia and through the Okanagan Valley and on
to the upper waters of the Fraser River, and then across the mountains
through the land of the Crees to Hudson’s Bay.
In 1839, in the Okanagan Valley, where Father Demers was laboring
among the Shuswaps, a great many natives turned from their heathenism
and united with the Roman Catholic Church, and a strong mission was
established. Farther on among the Crees, at Norway House and other
points, a blessed work of grace was begun about the same time under the
leadership of James Evans, Mason, and Rundle, with their young native
associates, Henry B. Steinhauer and Peter Jacobs.
As this spiritual influence spread--and it did spread--from nation to
nation and from tribe to tribe, even those far removed from direct
contact with the Truth seemed to be affected by it. These remarkable
revivals were manifestly the result of the heroic work of Jason Lee
and his associates. Where missionaries were sent to direct and lead
the poor people, great and good results followed, for hundreds were
savingly converted to God. But in other cases, where the natives were
left to themselves, the old (Shaman) conjurers made use of it to their
own advantage. The people would fast and pray and dance for weeks--not
their old heathen dances; they danced and prayed to the Sun god, or the
stars, or the storm, for help and deliverance. This went on for a long
time amidst great excitement. It was the groping of the human heart
after God, “if haply they might find him.”
[Illustration: EARLY NATIVE TYPES.]
At the time of the great revival on the North Coast, in 1875, when the
people became so aroused that they did not eat or sleep for days, the
old men would say, “Oh, I saw this when I was a boy many years ago. A
man came down the Skeena and spoke to the people, and they began to cry
and pray, and this is the same. Long before this, a man came down
from Alaska and told the people that the Ta-kus had travelled far away,
for a month or more, in the mountains, and they had met with people
who prayed to the Good Spirit. When they took their food they would
read from a strange book, and when the people heard this they got much
excited.”
It is possible that these Indians to whom the old men referred had
travelled on the Peace or Mackenzie River, and had come across some of
James Evans’ converts, who could read in the Cree syllabic characters.
There is no doubt that a great revival spread across the continent at
about the time before mentioned, filling the minds of the natives with
expectation; and had the home Church used men and means at that day
thousands and thousands of poor people might have been saved who went
down in darkness.
The incident, before mentioned, of the early planting of the Gospel
among the Flathead people in Oregon, though somewhat removed from that
section of this great nation with which we will have more to do, makes
it clear that when God wants a man to do a special work for Him it does
not take long to find him. It also shows that God by His Spirit will
sometimes arouse a tribe or nation, so that they are ready for the
Gospel light before the Church is prepared to carry the blessed truth.
It does look at times as if His Kingdom were advanced through means all
His own; and yet when the Macedonian cry, “Come over and help us,” is
raised, the Church should be ready to enter every field.
If the Church were only awake to her privilege, and the responsibility
which God has thrown upon her by the wealth He has placed in her hands,
and, as a faithful steward, would return a tithe of what He has given
for the spread of His Kingdom, we should soon have enough to carry the
Gospel to every creature.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Dr. Hinds’ Life of Jason Lee.
[2] Some years later two Roman Catholic priests, one of whom was Father
Demers, found their way to the Columbia River, and still later Demers
journeyed into the Okanagan Valley, and commenced work among the
Shuswaps.
CHAPTER II. _THE CALL FROM MACEDONIA._
“I will send a Prophet to you,
A Deliverer of the Nations--
Who shall guide you and shall teach you,
Who shall toil and suffer with you.
If you listen to his counsels,
You will multiply and prosper;
If his warnings pass unheeded,
You will fade away and perish!”
_Longfellow’s “Hiawatha.”_
On the Columbia River, and farther north, on the shores of Puget Sound
and the lower part of Vancouver Island, where the Hudson’s Bay Company
had established one of their most important posts--Fort Victoria or
Camosun--small settlements gradually sprang up. But these were of
little consequence until, in the year 1858, the discovery of gold on
the bars of the Fraser, and later in Cariboo, drew attention to British
Columbia and led to a wild rush from all parts of the world to the new
“diggings.”
Almost immediately the Methodist Church embraced the opportunity, and
sent out the first band of missionaries to the Pacific Coast, in the
persons of Revs. Ephraim Evans, D.D., Edward White, Ebenezer Robson and
Arthur Browning. These brethren were speedily at work, at Victoria and
Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, and at New Westminster and Hope on the
Fraser River.
While the hearts of these faithful missionaries were much engaged with
the needs of the white inhabitants, their souls were stirred with the
scenes of degradation and misery constantly presented to them by the
wild native population, and their liveliest sympathies were aroused
with a desire to help them. Brother Robson, especially, endeavored, as
the circumstances of his own work permitted, to reach the Indians, both
at Hope and Nanaimo. But the pressure of the ever-widening field among
the whites made it impossible to do a great deal, and led him, with the
others, to pray and plead that someone might be raised up whose mission
would be the salvation of the Indians.
In 1859, Rev. Dr. Evans, in the Missionary Notices for the year, wrote:
“The scenes which meet our eye daily might well paralyze the hopes of
any mere philanthropist, unacquainted with the constitution and past
triumphs of the Mediatorial economy. The degradation of these poor
savages must be seen to be at all understood. Then there is a large
amount of prejudice and contempt arrayed against them. The collisions
occurring between them and the miners, and the difficulties likely to
arise about the alienation of their lands and the settlement of the
colonies, present additional obstacles. Nothing less than the exertion
of the Divine energy, promised to the Church in her evangelistic
struggles, can bring about the desired civilization of these wretched
fellow-men. Great will be the immortal honor, and glorious the reward,
of the man who shall first throw himself effectually into this vast
and long-deferred Christian enterprise. Oh! that while I write the
blessed Spirit may influence some heart with the requisite zeal and
tenderness and self-denial, and thrust its possessor into the field of
conflict and conquest before thousands more shall pass away unreached
by the remedy so richly provided.”
Rev. A. Browning wrote, February, 1859: “I was a witness yesterday to
the torture and death dance of the Indians over a captive. How sad it
made me feel. I was under the protection of a gentleman well known to
them, or I should hardly have felt safe. Oh! sir, I hope you and the
dear friends at home will do something for these poor souls. Our hands
are full, and will be, in laboring for our own race. Will not God raise
up some young men especially for this work?”
In 1861, at the close of a very interesting description of the effort
he was making to reach the Indians, Rev. E. Robson said: “They all
seem ripe for the Gospel. I have often witnessed scenes of thrilling
interest among them--crowds of almost breathless listeners, falling
tears, shouts of gladness, entreaties to come again, shaking hands
with hundreds--but I cannot enter into all the details. What is wanted
is earnest, self-denying, heaven-baptized men and women to devote
themselves to this work, and a great and glorious harvest will be
gathered.”
The same year, Rev. Edward White wrote several letters to the
_Christian Guardian_, urging the importance of Christian young
men coming out to the West to labor for the salvation of souls,
class-leaders, local preachers and other workers, who would avail
themselves of the opportunity afforded by the needs of the native
peoples, and by the thousands who were pressing into the country in
search of gold.
These letters left a very deep impression upon my mind, but newly
awakened by the Spirit of God to a sense of my privilege and
responsibility, and created a deep longing to be used of God in a
special manner for His glory.
Some five years before this time, in the year 1856, I had come from
England with my parents, and had settled near Woodstock, Upper Canada.
Very early in life in the old town of Pickering, Yorkshire--where I was
born in 1840--I was the subject of deep religious impressions. But it
was not until some time later that I was savingly converted to God.
About the time of my leaving school, a very pious young man, by the
name of George Piercy, belonging to my native town, desired to go as
a missionary to China. His friends gave him no encouragement. But,
overcoming all difficulties, he finally did go. I shall never forget
the effect it had upon my heart. I admired his piety and zeal, even
though I had not as yet made definite decision for Christ, and thought
that if he could leave a comfortable home and influential friends there
must be an inspiring motive. Later on, when the call came to my own
heart, I understood what the inspiring motive was.
There were two or three circumstances which were strangely used by the
Spirit of God leading up to my conversion.
When crossing the Atlantic Ocean we encountered terrible storms and
were in great danger of shipwreck among the icebergs. The goodness
and mercy of God in preserving us and bringing the ship safely to
land moved me to gratitude and thanksgiving. Later on I suffered from
sunstroke, which resulted in a long illness, and while recovering I
had leisure for more serious thoughts concerning the future. Some
time after this, while wrestling with some companions, I was thrown
violently to the floor, breaking my leg. The month in bed which
followed the accident gave me another season for reflection, and led
me to resolve to live a Christian life. But, like many a sick-bed
resolution, this was only made to be broken. During the autumn a
camp-meeting was held near Woodstock, and though at first I made light
of it all, I attended, and my conscience was still further aroused.
The Methodist church in the town had just passed through a most blessed
season of revival. Some of the young men had united in a praying band,
and they invited me to go with them to their meetings. Such a spirit of
trifling worldliness and carelessness had taken possession of me that I
would rather have kept out of their way. But I was so struck by their
earnestness and devotion that I consented to go.
On the way up the street, while others were discussing the results
of the elections which had just taken place, the leader, and one of
the most devout among them, Mr. A. Peers,[3] breaking in upon the
conversation, said: “Here we are, fellow-travellers to eternity.”
“Eternity! Eternity!” I thought, “I am not prepared for eternity.” The
words haunted me like a refrain. Conscience repeated them in my ears.
The meeting from beginning to end seemed especially for my benefit. The
prayers, the testimonies, the songs were all the voice of God to my
heart.
Two weeks of terrible struggle followed this awakening. I often spent
most of the night in prayer, beseeching God to have mercy upon me.
At last, one evening, while on my knees, the answer came, and I was
enabled to believe that God, for Christ’s sake, had pardoned all my
sins.
A flood of joy filled my soul. My happiness was so great I felt
constrained to give it out to others. A burning desire to be useful
and helpful to others took possession of me. I immediately identified
myself with the church and the Sunday School, joined the Tract Society,
and with the praying band assisted in cottage prayer-meetings and
visited the sick and the prisoners in the jail. Later on I was placed
on the plan as a local preacher, and in connection with our services
had the joy of seeing souls saved.
I now felt more than ever that every moment must be improved in storing
my mind with useful knowledge. I purchased additional books, mostly
of a devotional character, and spent my evenings, until late into the
night, in study.
I never failed to avail myself of the privileges offered by any
services of a special character, and while in attendance at a notable
camp-meeting, held near Ingersoll, Ontario, at which the Rev. Wm.
Taylor (then known as “California” Taylor) preached a wonderful sermon
on sanctification, my heart was set on fire of love, and a stronger
desire than ever to glorify God took possession of my soul.
About this time my attention was drawn to the fervent appeals of the
pioneer missionaries to British Columbia, published in the _Christian
Guardian_, and previously referred to. Again the flame of missionary
zeal, which had been first lighted in my boyhood days by the influence
of the saintly George Piercy, began to burn with renewed intensity.
One day a friend handed me a copy of the paper with the letter from
Bro. White in it, and said: “Crosby, you ought to go there.” I took the
paper into my room and read it on my knees, and there and then promised
God if the way should open and the money should be forthcoming I would
go. But where the money was to come from I did not know.
Presently some of my friends noticed that something was troubling me,
and asked me what was the matter. I hesitated a little, and then told
them I felt I ought to obey the call in my heart to go and preach the
Gospel to the heathen of British Columbia, but I had not the money. The
reply was: “We will lend you enough to go, and if you are never able
to pay it back it will be all right anyway.” This was a very serious
moment, for I did not expect the answer to come so soon. The thought
of what it meant to leave home and friends and go to a land of which
little was known, suddenly presented itself to me. I excused myself
from my friends and went away to my room, and there pleaded with God to
help me to do what He had now clearly called me to do. When my decision
was made to obey God at whatever cost, the way seemed all bright and
clear.
Now, however, a new difficulty presented itself. I must get the consent
of my mother.
I rode out one night to the farm. My father met me, fearing ill
tidings, and as we stood by the house I told him how the Lord had
called me and that my way was open, but I felt I would like his consent
and my mother’s. The window was open and mother had overheard, and when
we went in I found her in tears. Sobbing, she said I must not go, she
could not spare me. Who can tell the depth of a mother’s love? Though
she had fourteen children she felt she could not spare one. I told her
how the call had come and the way had been opened, and that I felt it
my duty to go, and further that I feared if I disobeyed the voice of
God I would lose my soul. Then, resting her hand upon my shoulder, the
tears streaming down her cheeks, she said, “If that is so, then go! my
boy, go! and God bless you.”
Many a time in after years when discouragements and difficulties beset
me, my mother’s words came to me as a benediction. Often when on stormy
seas, the winds howling, the waves sweeping over us, and when to all
human appearance it was impossible to reach shore, I would seem to hear
my mother’s loved voice and her “God bless you.”
When, night after night in my lonely cabin or camped on the beach,
studying a strange language and perplexing myself as to how to get my
tongue around the difficult words or sounds, the farewell words of my
mother came again to comfort me.
When standing all night long between savage parties who were clubbing
and butchering one another, when I did not know but any moment I should
be knocked down by some enraged warrior with his club, the remembrance
of mother’s benediction proved an encouragement and an inspiration.
And now came hasty preparations for departure, which were finally
completed. The day at last arrived to bid farewell to Sunday School and
classmates and friends. One by one they filed past the door, on that
never-to-be-forgotten Sunday, and grasping my hand they lovingly gave
me their heart-felt “God-speed.” The sweet-faced, tear-bedewed eyes of
my little scholars ever remain a precious memory.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] Alex. Peers, a devoted young classmate of the author, in Woodstock,
Ont., who spent some time in Victoria College with a view to the
ministry, in 1863 made his way to British Columbia, and took up land
at Chilliwack. He was married to Miss Wells, sister of Mr. A. C.
Wells, and after spending some time in the mission school at Nanaimo,
finally settled in New Westminster, where he was very useful as a local
preacher and class-leader, and secured the respect and esteem of all
who knew him. Here the author again met him.