Books: Missionary Work Among The Ojebway Indians

E >> Edward Francis Wilson >> Missionary Work Among The Ojebway Indians

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It was very encouraging to me to find that our cause was being taken
up in England; a little circular had been printed and distributed, and
by the middle of October L64 had been contributed towards the erection
of our Mission buildings.

In the meantime I was holding service regularly every Sunday in the
vacant log cottage with an average attendance of from twenty to thirty
Indians, and during the week I visited a good deal among the people, my
interpreter usually accompanying me. I had prepared a little pocket
companion containing passages of Scripture, copied from the Ojebway
Testament, sentences of familiar conversation, and Indian prayers and
collects. With the help of this little book I was able to make myself
understood by the Indians, and soon became almost independent of an
interpreter. I had a plan of the Indian Reserve, and usually steered my
way through the bush with my compass, taking little notice of the rough
corduroy tracks and Indian trails which never seemed to lead to the
right place.

One of these expeditions I will briefly describe:

I wanted to find old Widow Kwakegwah's house, which lay about two
miles back through the bush in a south-easterly direction. Wagimah was
with me and, leaving the river road, we plunged back at once into the
bush without either path or track, and steered our way by my compass.
Sometimes it lay through a thick growth of young saplings, which bent
aside as we pushed our way through; sometimes over a mass of decaying
logs and upheaved roots; sometimes through long grass and swamp up to
our knees; occasionally we came to a fallen tree, which we had to
clamber over or under. Once or twice we came upon a little log hut
standing in the midst of a small clearing, sometimes empty with door
bolted, at other times showing signs of occupation. Into one of these
we entered; it was a tiny log shanty, with a patch of Indian corn and
potatoes enclosed by a snake fence. We pushed open the door, a fire was
burning on the hearth, and in a corner was a blanket enveloping
something that might be human. I told Wagimah to touch it, he did so,
and the bundle moved, part of the blanket wriggled back and a woman's
face appeared. She said she was sick, and that no one had been to visit
her. We staid and had a little conversation, and then as it was getting
late, hurried on to Widow Kwakegwah's. The old woman, who had a very
pleasant, honest-looking face, gave us quite a hearty reception. I got
her to tell me the number of her children and grandchildren, and then
taking up her Ojebway Testament read a few verses from St. John iii,
and spoke a few words which Wagimah interpreted, after which we knelt
for prayer. After this we visited Peter Gray, with his wife and family
of eight children, they lived in a small log hut, and there was no
glass in the windows. It was now five p.m. and we started on our two
miles' trudge back to Antoine Rodds' house, where I had left my buggy,
and then drove back to the town.

CHAPTER IV.

KETTLE POINT.

Besides the four hundred Indians on the Sarnia Reserve, there were
about one hundred more living at Kettle Point, thirty miles distant, on
the eastern shore of Lake Huron. I had not been long settled at Sarnia,
when, in company with my interpreter. I started on a first visit to
these people. I will describe the journey.

Taking the railway as far as Forest, we had to walk on a distance of
eight or nine miles. Neither of us knew the country, but a couple of
Indians, whom we happened to fall in with, showed us the way.

It was nearly two o'clock when we reached David Sahpah's house. We
found the Indians most hospitable; some of them were Methodists, some
still pagans, and others members of the Church. They were most desirous
of having a Church Mission established among them, as there was no
school for their children and no regular services held. Not a single
individual, man, woman, or child, could read or write. They were very
anxious to have a school-house built and a schoolmaster sent to teach
them, indeed some of them had already got out logs with the view of
building a school. The Chief's name was Ahbettuhwahnuhgund (Half a
Cloud), a fine, broad-shouldered, intelligent-looking man, but still a
pagan, although he had had several of his children baptized in the
Church. There was also a large family named Shaukeens, all of whom were
pagans, and several others. They seemed, however, to have advanced more
in their farming operations than the Sarnia Indians. The Chief had a
capital house with several rooms in it, an orchard full of apples and
cherries, and well-cultivated fields. In the evening we had service at
David Sahpah's house, and then I spoke to the Indians and proposed that
we should at once commence a fortnightly school among them, myself and
my interpreter taking it alternately. There was an empty log-house
which they said we could use, and they all seemed pleased at the
proposal, and said that they would send their children to be taught.

We had to start at 3.30 a.m. next morning to catch the early train for
Sarnia. It was a clear starlight night when we emerged from the
hospitable shelter of an Indian's log-house and started on our
pilgrimage through the bush. There was no moon, and we had some
difficulty in groping our way. Wagimah went first, and slowly and
cautiously we proceeded, carrying our wraps and satchels with us.
However, with all our care, we had soon lost our way, and found
ourselves stumbling along over a potato patch, without having the least
idea where we were. For nearly an hour we were wandering about, when at
length we came once more upon a beaten track; but whether it was the
right one or not we could not tell. However we followed it, and almost
before we were aware we found ourselves out of the bush and standing on
a broad clay road, and at length we arrived at Forest Station in good
time for the cars to Sarnia.

After this we visited Kettle Point every fortnight, and many were the
amusing incidents connected with those trips. Sometimes I drove the
whole distance in my own trap, at other times took train to Forest or
Widder, and some of the Indians would meet me with a waggon or sleigh,
as the case might be, at the Station. It was on the 9th of September
that we commenced our school in the vacant log-house. We began with A,
B, C, as no one yet knew anything. There were eleven children and five
adults present. I was amused in the evening to see a game of draughts
going on, on a log outside the Chief's house; the draught-board was a
flat part of the log with squares carved out on its surface, the black
men were squares of pumpkin rind with green side up, the white men the
same with the green side down. That night we slept at Adam Sahpah's
house.

Our sleeping places on these Kettle Point expeditions were various. One
bitterly cold night in the late autumn, I remember, passing in a little
boarded shanty used as a workshop. We were nearly perished in the morning,
and were glad to get inside David Sahpah's comfortable log-house; a huge
fire was blazing on the hearth, and the Indian women all busy, some with
their pots and frying-pans, boiling potatoes and baking cakes, others
dressing and cleaning the children. Mrs. Ahbettuhwahnuhgund gave me a
chair, and down I sat by the blazing fire and gazed with a feeling of
happy contentment into the yellow flames. The scene was certainly a novel
one. In a dark corner by the chimney sat a dirty old couple on the couch
where they had been passing the night; they were visitors from Muncey
Town, and were staying a few nights only at Kettle Point. The old woman
lighted up her pipe, and whiffed away with her eyes half shut; after
enjoying it for about twenty minutes or so, her old husband thought she
had had enough, and taking it from her put it in his own mouth and had his
whiff. When he had done, he restored it again to his wife. Underneath
another old bedstead were a couple of large dogs, which occasionally let
their voices be heard in a dispute; some of the stones on one side of the
fire-place had broken away, making a little window through which the dogs
could reach the fire, and it was amusing to see how they put their noses
and paws through the opening and warmed themselves just like human beings.
Down in another corner sat an antiquated old woman enveloped in a blanket,
and in vain endeavouring to comfort a little fat boy of about ten months
who was crying, as only children know how to cry, for his mother. Finding
that she could not content the baby, she at length got up, and taking off
her blanket, put one end of it round the baby's shoulders, tucked the ends
under its arms, and then with one sweep placed baby and blanket together
on her back, and with one or two pulls once more got the blanket wrapped
completely round her, and the little fat boy snugly ensconced between her
shoulders; then she marched off to give him an airing. The bigger children
were set to clean themselves, a tin bowl of water and a towel being given
them in turns. I was wondering whether my turn would come, when Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund, having once more filled the bowl, addressed me with
the words, "Maund'uhpe," which in polite English would mean, "Here you
are!" "Ah, meegwach, ahpecte"--"thank you kindly"--said I, and forthwith
began my ablutions, while the children stood around me in wonderment.

One night I slept with a pig. It was a vacant room in the Chief's new
house. After our services were over and we had had supper, Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund took a clean blanket on her shoulder and a lantern
in her hand, and calling me to follow led me to the apartment. There
was a bedstead with a mattress on it in a corner, and on two chairs in
the middle of the room lay a pig which had been killed the day before.
Early next morning, before I was fully awake, the door opened, and Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund appeared with a knife in her hand. What could she
want at this hour in the morning? I opened one eye to see. Her back was
turned to me, and I could not distinguish what she was doing, but I
heard a slicing and cutting and wheezing. Then the good lady turned
round, and closing the eye I had opened I did not venture to look out
again till the door was shut, and Mrs. Ahbettuhwahnuhgund departed;
then I peeped out from my rug--poor piggy was minus one leg! Next time
I saw the missing limb it was steaming on the breakfast table!

I must not make this chapter longer. By-and-bye I shall tell of the
baptism of the Chief and several other of the pagan Indians of this
place. Suffice it to say now that our little school kept nicely
together, and services were held either by myself or my interpreter
every fortnight. In a little more than a year's time we had the
satisfaction of seeing both a school-church and a master's residence
erected, and a catechist placed in charge of the station.

CHAPTER V.

INDIAN NAMES GIVEN.

It is a custom with the Indians to bestow Indian names upon
missionaries and others who come to work among them, in order to make
them, as it were, one with themselves. We had not been many months
resident in Sarnia before we received an invitation from the pagan
Chief at Kettle Point, to come to a grand feast which the Indians were
preparing in our honour at that place, and to receive Indian names by
which we should be incorporated into the Ojebway tribe.

It was one of the coldest of winter days when we started, the glass very
low, a high wind, and the snow whirling through the air in blinding
clouds. We went by train to Forest, and there Ahbettuhwahnuhgund met us
with his sleigh. It was just a common box sleigh with two seats, and the
bottom filled with straw, and two horses to pull us. We were all bundled
up in rugs and blankets and wraps; the Chief, who was driving, had his
head completely smothered up in a bright blue shawl belonging to his wife,
and wrapped so many times round that he was as wide at the top of his eyes
as at his shoulders. The only one of the party who appeared careless about
the cold was an Indian named Garehees, who had come with us from Sarnia,
and he sat with his feet hanging over the side of the sleigh; however,
when we asked him how it was that he did not feel the cold, he replied
with a grin, "Moccasins no cold,--white man boot cold,--ice!--two pair
socks under moccasins me--big blanket too!" In about an hour and a half we
arrived at the Chief's house; it was the first time my wife had been to
Kettle Point, and she was very much pleased to make acquaintance with the
Indians of whom she had often heard, and who had sent her presents of
apples and cherries from their orchards. She had brought with her a few
small gifts for the children, with which they were much delighted. A
little boy named Isaac had a sugar-dog given to him; he soon had its nose
in close quarters with his mouth, and the people laughed to see it
disappearing. Indians are nearly always very much behind time in their
arrangements; they do not appear yet to understand the value of time--
whether in their councils, their daily work, their feasts, or their
attendance at church, they are generally behind the appointed hour. If a
council is called to commence at noon, three or four Indians will have
perhaps assembled at that hour; others straggle in as the day wears on;
they sit or lie about, smoking their pipes, chewing tobacco, and talking;
and it will probably be three o'clock before the council actually
commences.

The Indian feast of to-day was no exception to the rule. It was
appointed to take place at noon, but hour after hour sped by, and it
was nearly four p.m. when they at length commenced. On entering the
room where the feast was laid out, we found two seats arranged for us
at the end of the apartment beneath an ornamented canopy decked with
cedar boughs, and we were requested to sit down. Then the Chief and
Shaukeens (both pagans) stood up, and the Chief made a brief oration to
the people, which John Jacobs, a young native, then studying for the
ministry at Huron College, interpreted for us. The Chief expressed his
pleasure in receiving us among them, and his desire that we should
become as one of them by receiving Ojebway names; and then, taking me
by the hand, he continued: "The name that I have selected for you is
one which we greatly respect and hold in fond remembrance; for it was
the name of an old and respected Chief of our tribe who lived many
years ago and whose name we wish to have retained; and seeing you are a
missionary to the Ojebway Indians, it is the wish of my tribe as well
as myself that you should be called after our late respected Chief; so
your name hereafter is 'Puhgukahbun' (Clear Day-light)."

The moment my name was given, "Heugh! Heugh!" sounded from all sides,
that being the Indian mode of expressing approval when anything is said
or done.

Mrs. Wilson then rose and received her name in the same manner. The
Chief, addressing her, said: "It is with great pleasure that I bestow
also on you, the wife of the missionary, an Ojebway name. The name I am
about to give you was the name of one of our sisters who has long since
passed away from our midst, and it is our wish that her name should be
retained among us. Your name therefore is 'Nahwegeezhegooqua' (Lady of
the Sky).

"Heugh! Heugh! Heugh!" again sounded through the room, and then the
Indians one and all pressed forward to have a shake of the hand with
their new brother and sister. We almost had our hands shaken off, and
from all sides came the cry, "Boozhoo, Boozhoo, Puhgukahbun; Boozhoo,
Nahwegeezhegooqua, Boozhoo, Boozhoo!"

As soon as order was restored, the feast began. I had the seat of
honour next to the Chief, and Mrs. Wilson sat next to me. The table was
well covered with eatables--venison, cakes, pork, Indian bread,
preserves, all in the greatest abundance. About thirty persons sat down
to the first table the others waiting with true Indian patience for
their turn to come; and a long time it was coming, for as soon as the
first set had finished, an intermission was made for music and
speechifying. Several very pretty songs were sung by the Indian choir,
some in English and some in Indian.

After the feast was over and the tables cleared, I was asked to address
the people, and Wagimah interpreted for me. I told them briefly hew much
pleased I was to receive an Ojebway name, and thus become one of their
number, and how Mrs. Wilson and myself would now feel that we could
shake hands with them and regard them as our brothers and sisters. God,
I said, had greatly prospered our work since I came among them. We had
already our church completed and our Mission-house nearly so at Sarnia;
the great Society in England had contributed five hundred dollars
towards the erection of these buildings, and our friends in England
about five hundred dollars more; so that there would be no debt. As soon
as we had money enough I hoped that with their help we should be able
also to build a little church and teacher's house for them here at
Kettle Point, and send a catechist to reside among them and teach their
children. It was late in the evening when we bade good-bye and drove
back to Forest, where we remained for the night and the next morning
returned to Sarnia. On our arrival I found a letter awaiting me from the
Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, authorizing me to place a
catechist in charge of the Kettle Point Mission.

CHAPTER VI.

CHRISTMAS ON THE RESERVE.

We were anxious as soon as possible to have both church and Mission-
house built on the Sarnia Reserve, so that we might move down among the
Indians and dwell in their midst. When therefore the matter of the land
was settled, and one acre of Antoine Rodd's farm had been given over
for the use of our Mission, we began preparations for the erection of
the two buildings. For the building of the church, I wished the Indians
to give as much in the way of labour and help as possible, so as to
show their earnestness in the cause; but for the erection of the
Mission-house, we had to depend largely on contributions from our
friends in England. However, the Church Missionary Society made us a
grant of L100, and friends helped liberally, so that we had no lack of
funds, and by the time the two buildings were completed and fenced
round with a board fence, all was paid for.

We moved into our new house on the 29th of January, 1869, just six
months after our arrival in Canada. It was a nice little frame cottage,
with a large room or hall in the centre, study and bed-room on one
side, and sitting-room and bed-room on the other; and at the back,
connected by a covered passage, were the kitchen and pantry, with
servants' bed-room over. We were close to the river, and from our front
windows could see in summer-time all the shipping passing to and fro,
which made it quite lively.

We were sorry not to get into our Mission-house before Christmas, but
this was impossible. Our little church, however, was opened for service
two days after Christmas Day, and was beautifully decorated for the
occasion.

I must go back a little, and tell how it all happened. I had bought
some pews from an old Scotch church in the town which was going to be
pulled down, and one day early in December we got them carried down to
our little church building, and the Indians assisted me in putting them
up; there were ten on each side, and as they would seat five each we
had room for a congregation of just a hundred persons. On Christmas
Day, thirty-four people assembled in the log-house, which had been
beautifully decorated by the Indian women with cedar branches for the
occasion. After service I took the opportunity to say something to them
about the arrangements in the new church. Among other things I
suggested that they should sit together in families instead of the men
on one side and the women on the other, as had been their custom. The
proposal was well received and caused some amusement Shesheet said
humorously that he would consider it a great privilege to be allowed to
sit by his wife. Just as we were coming away the old Chief's wife, Mrs.
Chief as we used to call her, came running after Mrs. Wilson with a
parcel, and pushed it into her hand, saying, in her broken English,
"Christmas, Christmas!" It proved to be a prettily worked sweet-grass
basket, and the old lady giggled and laughed joyfully as Mrs. Wilson
expressed her surprise and pleasure at the present.

Two clergymen besides myself assisted in the services at the opening
of the church, which on that occasion was crammed with about a hundred
and fifty people. One of the most interesting features was just at the
close of the service, when an Indian named Buckwheat, from the
neighbouring mission of Walpole Island, came forward, and, after giving
a short address expressing the sympathy that was felt by the Walpole
Islanders for the Indians of this newly-formed Church mission,
proceeded to loosen a belt from his waist, and to take from it a little
carefully wrapped up packet, which he brought forward and presented as
the offering of his brethren towards the erection of our church and
Mission-house. It contained nine dollars.

The next day was the children's treat and Christmas tree. It was held
in the hall of the new house, although we had not yet moved in. It was
amusing to watch the faces of the children as they gazed upon the
unusual sight of a Christmas tree lighted up with tapers. Not even the
older people had ever seen one before. There were thirty-one children
present, and there was some little gift for each of them. During the
evening we taught them to scramble for nuts and candies. It was absurd
to see them, at first all standing in mute astonishment and wondering
at my ruthless waste in throwing away such excellent sweatmeats all
over the floor; however, they soon learned how to perform their part of
the game, and began scrambling for the good things as eagerly as any
English children.

The Indians, although to all appearance so grave and stoical, have a
fund of quiet wit and humour about them, and are even sometimes quite
boisterous in their merriment. Joseph Wawanosh, the Chief's eldest son,
was a particularly quiet grave-looking man, and yet there was often a
merry twinkle in his eye, and sometimes he would come out with some
funny remark in his quaint broken English. He was our churchwarden, and
had a great weakness for making up large fires in the church, to which
my wife strongly objected, and they waged a chronic war on the subject.
Joseph, when spoken to used to pretend to shiver, and say he felt
particularly cold. One day Mrs. Wilson said to him, "How soon is your
wife coming home?" "Oh, about two weeks," he replied. "Why, you will be
starved before then; you have no one to cook for you." "Ah, no, I guess
not," replied Joe; "Indian never starve in bush." "Why not?" asked Mrs.
Wilson. "Oh," said Joe, shaking his head humorously; "lots of
squirrels." Old Antoine Rodd, or Shesheet, as he was more generally
called, was a huge portly man, and was often very comical in his
remarks, his good-natured face beaming with fun. One day Mrs. Wilson
nearly slipped into a large puddle while threading her way along the
ill-kept road, "What would you have done if I had been drowned?" she
asked jokingly, as the old man helped her out of her difficulty. "Oh, I
would, have dragged it!" he said.

We, were very glad when at length we moved into our new house, and we
soon had plenty of our Indian friends to visit us. Widow Kwakegwah
brought a black and white cat as a present for my wife. She threw the
cat into the kitchen in front of her, and then followed laughing. It
was amusing to watch the cat making a survey of the whole house with
true Indian curiosity. The Indians did not generally venture beyond the
kitchen part without invitation; in that part, however, they made
themselves quite at home, and Jane was somewhat taken aback when Joe
Wawanosh told her he was going up to see her room. Mrs. Chief also went
up, and was delighted with Jane's trunks. She said she would come again
another day to see what was in them!

CHAPTER VII.

MISSION WORK AT SARNIA.

After settling in at our new home on the Sarnia Reserve, a great part
of my time was taken up in exploring through the Bush and visiting the
Indians in their houses.

We found one very piteous case of a poor woman in the last stage of
consumption. The poor creature was worn to a skeleton lying on a most
miserable looking bed with nothing to cover her but a ragged strip of
black funereal-looking cloth. Although so very ill, she was able to
answer the questions that Wagimah put to her, and when I offered to read
the Bible to her she seemed very glad. She listened most attentively
while I read in Ojebway the eighteenth chapter of St. Luke, and told her
of the love of Christ in coming to save sinners. Then we knelt, and I
offered two prayers for the sick copied into my pocket-companion from
the Indian prayer-book. We visited the poor creature several times
again, and once Mrs. Wilson accompanied me and brought with her some
blanc-mange or jelly which she had made. She was much touched at the
sight of the poor creature's utter destitution. We were amused as we
went along to see a pair of babies' boots hanging on the branch of a
tree, evidently placed there by some honest Indian who had chanced to
find them on the road. This is what the Indians generally do if they
find anything that has been lost,--they hang it up in a conspicuous
place, so that the owner may find it again if he comes by the same way.

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