Part 7 (2/2)

Very pathetic and thrilling were some of the scenes in connection with some of these importunate Indian deputations, who came from remote regions to plead with the resident missionary that they might have one of their own, to live among them and help them along in the right way.

One deputation, consisting of old men, came year after year, and when still refused each successive year, because there was none to volunteer for a life so full of hards.h.i.+ps, and no money in the missionary treasury, even if a man could be found, became filled with despair, and even bitterness, and said: ”Surely then the white men do not, as they say, consider us as their brothers, or they would not leave us without the book of heaven and one of their members to show us the true way.”

Another old man, with bitterness of soul and tremulousness of speech, when replying to the refusal of his request for a missionary for his people, said: ”My eyes have grown dim with long watching, and my hair has grown grey while longing for a missionary.” These importunate appeals, transmitted year after year to the missionary authorities, at length, in a measure, so aroused the Churches that more help was sent, but not before the toilers on the ground had almost killed themselves in the work. Vast indeed was the area of some of those mission fields, and wretched and toilsome were the methods of travel over them. George McDougall's mission was larger than all France; Henry Steinhaur's was larger than Germany; the one of which Norway House was the princ.i.p.al station was over five hundred miles long, and three hundred wide; and there were others just as large. No wonder men quickly broke down and had soon to retire from such work. The prisoners in the jails and penitentiaries of the land live on much better fare than did these heroic men and their families. The great staple of the North was fish.

Fish twenty-one times a week for six months, and not much else with it.

True, it was sometimes varied by a pot of boiled muskrat or a roasted leg of a wild cat.

Yet, amid such hards.h.i.+ps, which tried both souls and bodies, they toiled on bravely and uncomplainingly, and, as far as possible, responded to the pleading Macedonian calls that came to them for help, from the remote regions still farther beyond, and gladly welcomed to their numbers the additional helpers when they arrived.

With only one of these deputations pleading for a missionary have we here to do.

It was a cold, wintry morning. The fierce storms of that northern land were howling outside, and the frost king seemed to be holding high carnival. Quickly and quietly was the door of the mission house opened, and in there came two Indians. One of them was our beloved friend Memotas, who was warmly greeted by all, for he was a general favourite.

The little children of the mission home, Sagastaookemou and Minnehaha, rushed into his arms and kissed his bronzed but beautiful face. When their noisy greetings were over, he introduced the stranger who was with him. He seemed to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age, and was a fine, handsome looking man; in fact, an ideal Indian of the forest. Very cordially was he welcomed, and Memotas said his name was Oowikapun.

Thus was our hero in the mission house, and in the presence of the first missionary he had ever seen. How had he reached this place? and what was the object of his coming? These questions we will try to answer.

The last glimpse we had of Oowikapun was when he was quietly speeding away from the far-off village where dwelt Astumastao, and, according to the hunters, returning not in the trail leading to his own village; His presence here in the mission house, hundreds of miles in the opposite direction, now explains to us the way in which he must have travelled.

From his own lips, long after, the story of his adventurous trip was told.

Oowikapun said that, when he left Astumastao after that last interview in which he so completely failed to divert her from her determination to undertake, with the other women, the long, dangerous journey, and in which she had shown him how little he was to be depended upon, he went back to the wigwam of his friends feeling very uncomfortable. His relatives had all gone off hunting or visiting, and so there he was alone in his tent. He kindled a fire, and by it he sat and tried to think over what had happened, and was full of regret at what Astumastao had resolved to do. While almost frightened at the dangers she was about to face, he could not but be proud of her spirit and courage.

Then the thought came to him, What are you doing? Is there not man enough in you to do this work, and save these women from such risks? Is it not as much for you as anybody else the missionary is needed? Are you not about the most miserable one in the tribe? Here is your opportunity to show what you can accomplish; and, as Memotas was always doing the hard work for his wife, here is your chance to save from danger, and do the work that the one you are longing to call your wife is intending to do.

”While I thought about it,” said Oowikapun, ”the thing took such hold upon me that it fairly made me tremble with excitement, and I resolved to set about it at once. So I very quickly gathered my few things together, and when all was still I left the village. Some falling snow covered up my snowshoe tracks and the little trail made by my sled, and so no one could tell in which direction I had gone.

”I had many adventures. The snow was deep; but I had my good snow-shoes and plenty of ammunition, and, as there was considerable game, I managed very well. One night I had a supper of marrow bones, which I got hold of in a strange way. I was pus.h.i.+ng along early in the forenoon when I heard a great noise of wolves not very far off. Quickly I unstrapped my gun and prepared to defend myself if I should be attacked. Their howlings so increased that I became convinced that they were so numerous that my safest plan was to get up in a tree as quickly as possible.

This I did, and then I drew up my sled beyond their reach. Not very long after I had succeeded in this, I saw a great moose deer plunging through the snow, followed by fierce grey wolves. He made the most desperate efforts to escape; but, as they did not sink deeply in the snow, while he broke through at every plunge, they were too much for him, and although he badly injured some of them, yet they succeeded in pulling him down and devoured him. It was dreadful to see the way they snarled and fought with each other over the great body. They gorged themselves ere they went away, and left nothing but the great bones.

When they had disappeared, I came down from the tree, in which I had been obliged to remain about six hours. I was nearly frozen, and so I quickly cut down some small dead trees and made up a good fire. I then gathered the large marrow bones from which the wolves had gnawed the meat, and, standing them up against a log close to the fire, I roasted them until the marrow inside was well cooked; then, cracking them open with the back of my axe, I had a famous supper upon what the wolves had left.

”I had several other adventures,” said Oowikapun; ”but the most interesting of all, and the one most pleasing to me, was that I reached Beaver Lake in time to rescue an old man from being eaten by the wolves.

His relatives were some very heartless people of the Salteaux tribe.

They were making a long journey through the country to a distant hunting ground, and because this old grandfather could not keep up in the trail, and food was not plentiful, they deliberately left him to perish. They acted in a very cruel and heartless way. They cut down and stuck some poles in the snow, and then over the top they threw a few pieces of birch bark. This in mockery they called his tent. Then seating him on a piece of a log in it, where he was exposed to view from every side, they left him without any fire or blankets, and gave him only a small quant.i.ty of dried meat in a birch dish which they call a _rogan_.

There, when he had eaten this meat, he was expected to lie down and die.

”When I found him he was nearly dead with the cold. He had eaten his meat and was sitting there on the log brandis.h.i.+ng his old tomahawk to keep off several wolves, who were patiently waiting until he would become wearied out, when they would spring in upon him and speedily devour him. So intent were they on watching him, that I was able to get up so close to them that I sent a bullet through two of them, killing them instantly. The others, frightened by the report of the gun, quickly rushed away. I cheered up the old man, and speedily made a fire and gave him some warm soup which I prepared.

”I had to stay there with him a day before he was strong enough to go on with me. I have succeeded in bringing him with me to Norway House by dragging him on my sled most of the way. I took him to the house of Memotas, where he was kindly treated and cared for, as are all who come under the roof of that blessed man.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE MISSIONARY ON HIS JOURNEY.

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