Books: Missionary Work Among The Ojebway Indians
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Edward Francis Wilson >> Missionary Work Among The Ojebway Indians
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I was curious to see how the children would manage after three months'
training in the ways of the Whites. Our principle was to teach them to
_do everything for themselves_, and so we kept no servants; the
matron superintended, and every week the children were appointed to
their various duties--two cook girls, two laundry girls, two house
girls, and so on; and the boys in like manner, some to farm work, some
to carrying water, some to chopping wood. Every Saturday the workers
received pocket-money from two to five cents each--that is--if they had
no bad marks. Well, as I have said, I was curious to see for myself how
these rules would work, and how the children would manage, and in no
way could I do better than by becoming at once their visitor, teacher,
and quasi-matron. Another point, too, I was anxious to ascertain, and
that was how "the four cents a meal" plan could be made to answer.
For three months now had these children been fed, and by dint of
wonderful care and economy, the matron had managed to keep within the
mark. How she could do it had been rather a puzzle to me. The only time
that I had undertaken to cater for them, was in the Fall, when I took a
number of them down to Garden River, to dig potatoes on our land there,
and on that occasion I remember I gave them bread and jam for tea, and
found that the jam alone which they devoured cost more than four cents
a head, leaving out the bread and the tea.
Well, it was half-past two when I arrived at the cottage. The matron
had just left, and it was time to commence afternoon school. The
children sat on benches round a long table, Eliza Jane and Betsy, and
Benjamin, David, Adam, eighteen of them altogether,--some of them
rejoicing in long Indian names as well: Menesenoons, the little
warrior; Puhgoonagezhigooqua, hole in the sky; and so forth. In ages
they ranged from the eight-year-old little warrior up to Adam and
Alice, the two eldest, who were both turned sixteen. And as regards
education, one (_not_ the little warrior) was still stumbling over
the Alphabet; while one or two who had attended school before they came
to us had advanced as far as the Fourth Reader, and were learning
English Grammar and Geography.
School was over at 5 p.m., and then the workers fell to their duties,
and the non-workers went forth to play. Alice Wawanosh (grand-daughter
of the old Chief at Sarnia) was girl monitor for the week, and Mary
Jane and 'Hole in the Sky' the cook girls. I was interested to see how
very systematically they set to work: Alice got the scales and weighed
out the bread half a pound to each child; Mary Jane set the table with
a bright array of tin mugs and plates, and 'Hole in the Sky' put the
kettle to boil and measured out the tea. Then the bread and butter was
cut up, and in a very little time all was ready. At another table a
cloth was laid for me, and everything placed ready in the nicest order.
When the big bell rang the children all mustered and got themselves
tidy, and the small bell was the signal to take their seats. They stood
while I said grace, and then quietly and orderly took their evening meal.
After tea came the washing up. Each one, without being told, fell to
his or her duty. The boys brought in wood, and filled up the kettle and
boiler with water; the girl monitor weighed out the oatmeal for to-
morrow's breakfast and handed over to the cook girls, who in their turn
carefully stirred it into the big iron pot on the stove. A wise
arrangement this to insure breakfast being in good time in the morning,
as the porridge has only to be heated up with a little fresh water, and
is none the worse.
By seven o'clock everything was in order, books were got out, and the
children seated themselves quietly round the table, not for school, but
just to amuse themselves, as best they liked. I sat in the Matron's
rocking chair by the cook-stove, and was amused to hear them puzzling
over the English words, spelling, and helping one another; some of them
had copies of my Ojebway grammar, and were teaching themselves the
English sentences translated from the Indian.
At half-past seven I suggested they should sing a few hymns before
prayers, so the monitor got the hymn books, and they started the tunes
themselves, and sang very prettily "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
"Beautiful River," and "Hark, hark my soul, angelic songs are
swelling." Then we had prayers. I read a short passage from the Gospels
in English, and explained it in Indian. Kneeling down, they all joined
audibly in the general confession and the Lord's prayer. After prayers
all went off to bed, the boys over to the Carpenter's Cottage, and the
girls into the three dormitories. The monitor and cook, girls, however,
had to stay up another hour, for bread had been set and was not yet all
baked. There was the large wooden kneading trough by the stove, and the
scales, and as fast as one batch of bread came out of the oven another
went in, one girl cutting the dough, weighing it--four pounds to a loaf--
and another making up the bread and placing it in the tins. I think
twenty loaves altogether were baked that evening, and very nicely baked
too.
John Rodd was the wood-cutter, and his task was to light the fire in
the morning. He was early to his work, and by 6 a.m. a bright fire was
burning up, lamps were lighted, the bell rung, and soon the occupants
of the dormitories began to make their appearance, shivering,--and so
indeed was I--for it was a cold morning, twenty degrees below Zero, or
thereabouts: the smoke seemed to freeze in the chimney, the window
panes were caked with ice, and nearly everything in the house frozen
solid. It was just as well that the porridge had been made over-night,
even though it was frozen; a little hot water soon brought it to, and
it did not take very long to heat up. "Hole in the Sky" stirred it, and
kept her fingers warm, and we all huddled round the stove, wishing the
wood would stop crackling and smoking, and begin to glow with a red heat.
At last, by seven o'clock, breakfast was ready, the bell rang, and
each child sat down to his tin basin of steaming porridge, with a
tablespoonful of treacle in the middle. This, with a cup of tea, and a
hunch of bread, was their breakfast, and I don t think they fared by
any means badly. After breakfast the "workers" went to their house
duties, and the boys to their out-door work till half-past nine, when a
bell called them to prayers. Then books and slates were got out, and
school commenced. All were kept steadily at work till twelve, the cook
girls only occasionally getting up to poke the fire or peep into the
pots. Dinner was at half-past twelve, pork, beans, turnips, potatoes,
and bread; and then there was intermission until half-past two, when
they assembled again for school.
Thus all went on very satisfactorily during my two days' visit to this
embryo Institution. Merry enough they were, chasing each other about,
laughing, talking, and singing, and yet all did their duties regularly
and systematically--no jarring or disputes, and no shirking of work,
all seemed kind and ready to help one another.
Of the Indian children who were with us that first winter we know the
after-record of some. Adam Kujoshk and Alice Wawanosh married May 31st.
1878, and are now living comfortably in Sarnia. Adam is a first-class
carpenter, and can command high wages. He was employed in the cabinet-
work department, making and fitting the cabins on board the splendid
new steamship _United Empire_, which was launched at Sarnia in the
Spring of 1883. There is a young Adam, who we hope will one day be a
pupil at the Shingwauk Home. Mary-Jane died at her home in Sarnia,
trusting in her Saviour. "Hole in the Sky" has been out to service, is
a very respectable girl, and gives satisfaction to her employers. David
Nahwegahbosh married Sophia Esquimau, another of our pupils, and they
are living on the Manitoulin Island. Benjamin Shingwauk, "the Little
Warrior," is still with us, studying, and will, we hope, shortly pass
the public examination and receive a teacher's certificate. John Rodd
died at the Shingwauk in 1877, and was buried in our little cemetery;
he died trusting in the Saviour. Joseph Sahgejewh is still with us,
working at our sash and door factory, and receiving wages.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE NEW SHINGWAUK HOME.
Our new Shingwauk Home was formally opened on the 2nd of August, 1875,
by the Bishop of Huron and the Bishop of Algoma. There was a large
attendance including several friends from other dioceses; the day was
very fine, and all passed off most auspiciously. After partaking of a
sumptuous repast in the dining-hall, which was beautifully decorated
for the occasion, the guests assembled in the school-room for the
opening ceremony. A Special Service, prepared for the occasion, was
conducted by the Bishop of Algoma, who then offered a few interesting
remarks relative to the object of the Institution and the manner in
which it had come into existence. He reminded the friends present how
the original building had been destroyed by fire six days after its
completion, and that the present one, in which they were assembled, had
been erected to take its place; that the object was to train young
Indians to a Christian and civilized life, and to offer them all the
advantages which their white brethren enjoyed. His Lordship then called
upon the Bishop of Huron to formally open the building. Bishop
Hellmuth, on rising, said that it gave him great pleasure to be present
at the opening of this Institution, in which he felt a deep interest.
He was persuaded that the true way to do any permanent good to the poor
aborigines of this country, was to take their young, and train them. If
this had been done forty years ago, he felt assured that there would be
many a man now from among them holding high official position in the
country. In his own diocese he had at the present time three native
Missionaries and a considerable number of native school teachers, male
and female, all of whom worked to his entire satisfaction, He trusted
that children leaving this building would become centres for the
increased spread of Christian truth, and he felt no doubt but that the
blessing of God would rest upon a work which had been undertaken in
faith and with earnestness of purpose.
The audience then rose, and the Bishop solemnly declared the building
open for its intended purpose as an Industrial Home for Indian
children, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost.
After the Doxology had been sung, short addresses were given by Mr.
Simpson (formerly Member for the district), and Mr. Dawson, our
Parliamentary Representative at Ottawa.
Then, at the Bishop's request, I added a few remarks relative to the
system upon which we proposed to carry on the work of the Home. Forty-
one children, I said, were at that time present, and we were expecting
several more. My experience thus far had been that it was a somewhat
difficult matter to train Indians to a civilized life, still I had
great hopes that our present undertaking would, under God's blessing,
prove successful. The first thing, I felt, was to draw the children
around me, and let them feel that I cared for them and really sought
their good. I regarded them all as my children. A good proof that I had
in some measure gained their affection and confidence was, that many of
those who had been with us the previous winter, and had been home
during the summer for their holidays, had of their own accord come back
again, some of them from a great distance, and all seemed anxious to
get on and learn all they could. We keep no servants, I said, but,
every child is appointed to his or her work, and, as the company might
see, wore badges on their arms, indicating their employment for the
week. In regard to funds, all was prosperous. Ever since the fire God's
blessing had, in a most marked manner, rested upon our work. People had
given liberally, without any of the means usually used for raising
funds being resorted to. All was paid for, and a little balance in hand.
At the conclusion of the speaking the clerical party retired to
disrobe, and then the Bishops, with a number of friends present, were
conducted over the various parts of the building. On arriving outside,
the Indian children were found drawn up in a line in front of the
building, each holding a flag; the National Anthem was sung, and then
all marched forward, two and two, in very tolerable order, singing the
hymn, "Onward, Christian soldiers." They were followed by the company,
and made a complete tour of the grounds. In the evening tea and coffee
were served to the assembled guests, and the day's entertainment
concluded with a display of fireworks and a bonfire on one of the
islands opposite the Institution.
The whole cost of the Institution, with land, cottages, &c., in round
numbers, came to L2325.
We soon got into regular working order. School hours were from 9 to 12
in the morning, and from 2.30 to 5 in the afternoon, every day except
Saturday. We had fifty pupils, twenty-five boys and twenty-five girls,
varying in age from six or seven years up to seventeen. Some of them
were very poorly clad when they came to us, and very dirty; and the
first thing was to give them a bath and burn all their clothes, and rig
them out afresh. It was of course a great change to them to commence
regular habits, to run when they heard the bell ring, and do all that
they were told; and some of them began to pine under a sense of
captivity. Some of them, when home-sick, seemed to lose all control
over themselves, and made an unearthly noise; others would watch their
opportunity and run away. In the next chapter we shall tell about three
run-away boys, and their capture after ten days' absence. On the whole,
however, the children seemed to be wonderfully contented and happy, and
all went merrily and cheerfully day after day. The fish-boys used to go
out after their nets each morning, and bring in plenty of fish; the
water-boys had their grey pony, which they called "Muhnedooshish"
(Little Evil Spirit), because it had such a bad temper and was always
backing up and upsetting the water, instead of going forward with its
load. The baker-boys made and baked the bread, in the brick oven. The
sailor-boys, in their blue serge suits, had charge of _The
Missionary_, and did all commissions by water. All were willing to
work, and seemed to enjoy their life, and on Saturdays we gave them a
few cents pocket-money as an encouragement to good conduct. True, the
matron was sometimes at her wit's end, with so many to provide for and
such raw young hands to do the work, and it was doubtless a task of
considerable difficulty to keep everything in order, and to have meals
in time and well cooked, with only these young girls as her assistants,
the greater number of whom could scarcely speak a word of English; and
great credit I felt was due to her for her patience with them. However,
they really did try to do their best, and were quick enough when they
could understand what was wanted of them.
On Sundays the children used all to walk to the Sault to church in the
morning, and in the evening we had service in the School-room. On
Sunday afternoons there was Sunday school, and on Wednesday and Friday
evenings Bible-class. Every morning at prayers the children would
repeat a verse of Scripture after me, so as to know it by heart at the
end of the week. This plan has been continued uninterruptedly, and the
children who have been with us have thus a good store of Scriptural
knowledge. They were also taught the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the Ten
Commandments, the Catechism, and the Collects in English, their lessons
being of course varied according to their capacities. Our great desire
was that they might all prove themselves to be true Christians--
servants and soldiers of the Lord Jesus Christ.
The industries which we taught at the first outset were capentering,
boot-making, and farming.
It was of course a great object to make the children talk English.
Twice a week I had an English class, and taught them to repeat English
words and sentences, to point to their eyes, nose, ears, &c., and to
bring me things I specified. In order to induce them to keep a check
upon one another during play-time, I dealt out to each a certain number
of buttons of a particular pattern each Saturday, and if any of them
heard a companion speak Indian he was to demand a button, and the
following Saturday the buttons were exchanged for nuts. We certainly
have been very successful in teaching our pupils to talk English. It is
an understood thing in the Institution that they must do so, and no
Indian is allowed except for about an hour each day. Boys who come to
us unable to speak a word of English in September, by the following
June can generally manage to make themselves well understood.
For the support of our pupils we looked chiefly to the Canadian Sunday
Schools, many of which undertook each a _protege_ at L15 per
annum. This would cover the cost of food and clothing for an individual
child; and for the general expenses of the Home we depended on the
contributions of our friends in England and a grant from the Canadian
Government.
CHAPTER XXIX.
RUNAWAY BOYS.
One day three boys were missing; nobody could tell what had become of
them; the bush was scoured, the roads searched, and messengers
despatched to the Sault to try and gain some clue to their whereabouts.
After a time it was discovered that some bread and other things were
missing, and it became clear that they had decamped. Their home was 300
miles away, and the idea was that they had probably gone to Garden
River, about ten miles below us, with the intention of getting on board
the first steamboat that might pass, and so get home; so we made up a
crew, and late the same evening despatched the schoolmaster and some
boys in _The Missionary_ to Garden River. They arrived back the
next day, bringing word that a boat had been stolen from one of the
Indians there during the night, and that, moreover, an Institution
button, with "Shingwauk Home, Sault Ste. Marie" imprinted on it, had
been picked up in the sand near the place from which the boat was taken.
Nothing more was heard of these boys for ten days, except that one of
the steamboats brought a report that they had seen three boys in an
open boat near Bruce Mines, and that they had been hailed by them and
asked for bread. Ten or eleven days after these boys decamped, we were
preparing to start on an expedition up Lake Superior to Batcheewauning;
our four sailor boys were ready, dressed in their new blue serge suits
and straw hats from England, _The Missionary_ was well loaded with
camp-kettles, tent, and provisions. We got as far as the Sault, when
the wind, which had been favourable, suddenly veered round and blew a
heavy gale in our faces, accompanied by thunder and heavy rain. As it
was already between 3 and 4 p.m., it was plain we could not start that
day, And just at the critical moment word came that those three runaway
boys were on an island forty miles below. Our informant was a Garden
River Indian. The boys, be said, had turned adrift the boat they
escaped in, which was a small one, and had taken a larger one belonging
to a Sugar Island Indian. This Indian finding his boat gone, pursued
the boys in his canoe, overtook them, took his boat away from them, and
left them alone to their fate on an island. Shabahgeezhik did not think
the boys would be in distress, as there were a few settlers on the
island who would feed them if they worked for their board. As soon as
we heard this news, we immediately decided to head our boat round and
run before the wind down to this island and catch our boys. We just
stopped for ten minutes at the Shingwauk in passing, to get a dry coat
or two and tell of the change in our plans, and then off we started. It
was 5 p.m., and we thought we could make the island that night.
Shabahgeezhik went with us as pilot. We ran along at good speed through
Hey Lake, across the American channel, in and out among islands. We
were soon wet and cold, and it became very dark. Shabahgeezhik steered,
and seemed to know well what he was about, but we had some narrow
shaves of running into islands, it was so dark. Once or twice we were
close upon rocks, but just saved ourselves. We passed through the
"Devil's Gap," about as narrow as one of the canal locks, and soon came
in sight of the dark line of the Bruce Mines Shore. We had run well; it
was only 10 o'clock, and we were nearly there. Once or twice we saw a
fire on the lonely, uninhabited shore, where fishing or exploring
parties were encamping. It looked cheerful, but we did not stop. Now at
length we reached our island, and drew along shore to grope for the
dock. There were lights shining from two dwellings--one near the shore,
the other upon the hill. Securing our boat, we landed and went up to a
log hut. A half-breed woman appeared at the door when we knocked, but
she seemed scared when she found there were so many of us. We wanted to
find Mr. Marks' house, he being the principal settler on the island.
The woman gave us some hurried directions, and then shut and locked the
door. We started in search of Mr. Marks' house, which it would seem was
up the hill, about a mile distant. After scouring round a little to
find the road, we at length hit on a cattle-track which seemed to go in
the right direction. But what a track it was! Every step we took it
became worse; it led along the side of the hill through the bushes and
tall grass, and under foot slimy sticks and roots spread over a black
swamp. For a few steps one would balance one's self, and then down one
would go, knee deep in the mire. Always hoping that the road would
improve, we persevered for nearly half a mile. But it only got worse,
and reluctantly we had to turn back to our starting-point. Then
Shabahgeezhik took a run further up the hill to look for another road.
In a few minutes he shouted for us to follow, and the track this time
led us out just above Mr. Marks' house. It was nearly midnight, but Mr.
Marks was standing outside. We told him who we were and what our
errand, and he immediately gave the satisfactory information that the
boys we wanted were with a half-breed in a shanty just below. He showed
us which way to go, and we descended the hill-side in quest of them.
Arriving at the shanty, we knocked at the door. A man answered in
English, and asked what we wanted. At length the door was cautiously
opened. We said that Mr. Marks had told us to come here for three boys
who had run away. Upon this the man opened the door, and said, "Yes,
the boys were there, and we could take them." A lamp was lighted, and
we told the boys, who were, lying on the floor and scarcely awake yet,
to get up and come along, and then our sailor boys each took charge of
one prisoner, and we marched them down to the boat. The boys got the
tent up and went to bed with their prisoners, while we accepted the
kind hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. Marks, and slept in their house. It
was 1 a.m. when we got to bed, and at 4 a.m. we were astir again, and
prepared for the start home. The wind was against us, and we had to
pull. At 7.30 we went ashore for breakfast. We were very chilly, our
things still being wet, and we lighted a large fire and got everything
dry. After breakfast we managed to sail a little, tacking against the
wind, and by 12.30 p.m. we had made Sugar Island. Here was the American
channel, and we resolved to get dinner, and wait for a tow. In this we
were very fortunate, for just as we were finishing dinner a propeller
came along. We signalled to her, and she very politely shut off steam
and gave us a line from her stern. A storm was getting up, rain
beginning to fall, and we had to cross Lake George, and had rather a
rough time of it, the propeller dragging us forward mercilessly through
the crested waves, the spray and foam dashing all over us, so that we
shipped a good deal of water and had to bale. Arriving at length
opposite the Shingwauk, we got our masts up, and, giving the propeller
a wave of hats and a cheer, the tow-line was let go, up went our sails
in a trice, and in a few moments more we had arrived at the shore. All
the boys were dancing on the dock, greatly edified to see the return of
the runaways.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHARLIE AND BEN.
During a short visit which I paid to England in the winter of 1877,
the idea was formed of building a separate Home for Indian girls, and
now it became necessary to make the project known also in Canada.
Accordingly, in the summer vacation of that year I started off, taking
with me two little fellows from our Institution--Charlie and Ben, and
also a model which I had made of the Shingwauk Home. My object was not
so much to collect money as to tell the friends who had been helping us
what, by God's help, we had been enabled to do, and what, with His
blessing, we still hoped to do.
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