Books: Missionary Work Among The Ojebway Indians

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

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On Sunday morning the Indians came round, all delighted, to see me
again. After holding service in the church, I engaged two young
Indians, and getting into _The Missionary_, we started for Sault
Ste. Marie, as I was to have service there in the evening.

During the next day or two we were moving our furniture, &c. into this
house which we had rented for the winter. It was roomy enough, but
close to the river, and intolerably damp; so after a week or two of
great discomfort we resolved on changing our quarters, and one fine
morning, almost before light, saw _The Missionary_ and another
boat, loaded with our household effects, and running before a stiff
breeze to Garden River. The Indians were delighted at the change, and
all welcomed us warmly; but now fresh difficulties arose: the little
log parsonage was so cramped and small that we had nowhere to bestow
our goods, and a considerable proportion of them had to be stowed away
in the stable until two additional rooms could be built. It was rather
late in the year for building operations, the winter being just about
to commence; nevertheless we managed to secure the services of a couple
of workmen, and in a little time a "balloon frame" was run up and two
new rooms added to the house.

A terrible winter it was--one of the worst winters that had been known--
the glass being sometimes from 30 to 40 below zero, and the snow very
deep. One great snowdrift completely blocked the east end of the
parsonage--it was about fifteen feet deep. The lower room was entirely
dark, and we had to make a tunnel through the snow bank to let in the
light. Some mornings it was so cold that we could not sit to the
breakfast-table, but had all to huddle round the stove with our plates
on our laps, and the empty cups that had been used when put back on the
table froze to the saucers. Bread, butter, meat, everything, was frozen
solid, and we began to realize what an Algoma winter was. But, apart
from these discomforts, we had a very pleasant winter with our Indian
friends; the services at the church were well attended, and there were
generally upwards of thirty at the Holy Communion. At Christmas time we
had a great feast; nearly a hundred of the people came, and after
partaking of the good things, we gave them a magic lantern exhibition,
which pleased them greatly. Then we always had service in the
schoolhouse every Wednesday evening, at which there was an exceedingly
good attendance; and on Friday evenings we held a cottage lecture,
sometimes at one house, sometimes at another. Perhaps the most
discouraging thing was the day-school. It is so hard to induce the
Indians to send their children regularly to school. There may be thirty
names on the register, but the average attendance is probably not more
than nine or ten, possibly at times twelve to fifteen. It seems to be
the same everywhere. The old people do not sufficiently realize the
advantages of education themselves, and so seem to care little whether
their children are in their place at class or roving about the bush with
a bow and arrow. The Indians are great people for medicine. I had a good
stock of it, and they were constantly coming to me with their ailments.
They make medicines themselves from roots and herbs, but prefer
generally to get the White man's physic. There was an old white-haired
woman, an aunt of the chief's, who used to come stumping along with a
thick stick, and caused some consternation in our nursery; she never
knocked at the door--Indians rarely do--but would come in and sit
herself down in the middle of the floor, the children scampering away to
hide. She was a good-natured old creature, and of course would do no
harm, but she frightened the children nevertheless.

We had one rather narrow escape while driving on the ice. It was on
Christmas Day; I had been taking Morning Service at Sault Ste. Marie,
and was driving back to Garden River with my wife and a young lady who
was coming to stay with us; the wind was blowing, and the glass was in
the neighbourhood of zero. All went well till we were within four miles
of home; we had just passed a log cottage on the shore, and were
striking out to cross a bay; we fancied we heard a shout behind us, but
it was too cold to stop and look back; however it would have been
better if we had done so, for a few moments more and our horse was
plunging in the water, the rotten ice having given way beneath his
feet. As quick as thought we all hurried out at the back of the sleigh
and made for the solid ice. There were two or three inches of water on
the ice, and our feet got wet, but otherwise we were safe from danger.
In the meantime some Indians had seen us from the shore, and came
running to us with a rope and some rails. It was twenty minutes before
the poor horse was extricated; he was down in the water up to his neck,
his eyes looked glassy, and I was afraid the poor thing was dying.
However the Indians evidently knew what to do, they got the end of a
rail under him as a lever to raise him up, and put a noose round his
neck; then, having first loosened the harness, they pulled with a will,
and in a few moments had him out of the hole kicking on the ice; they
then gave him a good rubbing, and soon he made a plunge and was on his
legs again, trembling and shaking; one of the young fellows took him
off for a sharp trot to restore the circulation, then the sleigh was
fixed up, and after a delay of about an hour we were enabled to
continue our journey.

During the winter our mail was brought by men on snow-shoes with a dog
train; they had to travel about 150 miles to a distant station, where
they were met by other couriers, who exchanged bags with them and took
them the remainder of the distance. The men go along at a jogging pace,
and at night camp out in the snow.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHIEF BUHKWUJJENENE'S MISSION.

It was sugar-making time, and Buhkwujjenene was at work three miles
back in the bush collecting the sap from the maple-trees, and, with the
assistance of his wife and a large family of daughters, boiling it down
in huge black kettles to transform it into maple-sugar. It was rather a
labour getting out there, and I had to take my snow-shoes. About two
miles back from where our parsonage stood is a long range of low, rocky
hills, about 300 feet high, nearly parallel with the course of the
river, and for the most part bare and naked, only sprinkled with a few
ragged balsams, pine, and birch. It was April, and the snow was gone
from the exposed parts of the hill, but beyond, in the valley where
sugar-making was going on, it was still a couple of feet deep.

Wandering along through the bush, the first sign of your approach to a
sugar-camp is generally the sound of an axe or the barking of a dog;
these help to direct your steps; then, in a little while you see snow-
shoe tracks, and then--here are the little birch-bark troughs, one or
two to each maple-tree, and a slip of wood stuck in the tree about two
feet from the ground, which serves as a spout to convey the sap from the
tree to the trough. It does not run fast, about a drop in every three or
four seconds, or sometimes much slower than that; however the little
trough gets full in time, and then the Indians come round and pour it
into birch-bark pails and carry it to the camp to be boiled. The sap is
very nice when you are thirsty--slightly sweet and very cold, as the
nights must be frosty during sugar-making time, and there is generally a
little ice in each trough. Cold frosty nights and clear sunshiny days is
what the Indians like for their sugar-making. As soon as the weather
gets too warm the sap becomes bitter and is no longer of any use.

Well, after my walk of course I took a draught of sap from the first
trough I found, and then wended my way on to Buhkwujjenene's camp. The
sugar camp is made of poles about four inches thick, laid horizontally
for walls, and fitted into each other at the corners, the crevices being
filled with moss. The walls are only about four feet high, and they
enclose a space about ten or twelve feet square; the roof is also made
of poles placed like rafters and covered over with sheets of birch-bark,
an opening being left the whole length of the ridge for the escape of
the smoke. In the centre of the earthen floor is the fire, over which
are suspended five or six large sugar-kettles, holding perhaps twenty or
thirty gallons each, and into these the sap is poured as it is brought
in from the trees. Along the inside of the wigwam on either side of the
fire is a raised floor of boards or sticks, covered with fir branches,
on which the Indians recline by day or sleep at night. The door is
generally an old blanket hung over the opening. In just such a camp as
this I found Chief Buhkwujjenene, for though chief of his band he yet
has to hunt and fish and make sugar for his living, the same as the rest
of his people.

"Ah-ah-ah boo-zhoo boo-zhoo!"--That's the way we Indians greet one
another. Very warm and hearty, is it not? There they all were, busy
over their big pots--Isabel and Susette and Therese and Liquette, and
the old mother, who is very stout and comfortable-looking.

I told Buhkwujjenene that I wanted to have a little talk with him, so
as soon as I had some maple syrup, and my pockets filled with sugar
cakes to take home to the children, he came with me out of the wigwam,
and we sat down on a log together for a pow-wow. Of course he lighted
his pipe the first thing, for Indians can't talk without smoking. I
told him I had been thinking that I would cross the great salt water to
the land of the pale-faces, and try to collect some money to build the
big teaching wigwam that we had been talking about, and I suggested the
idea of taking him with me, if he would like to go. I said his brother
"Little Pine" had already done a good work by addressing meetings in
Canada and thus giving a start to the scheme, and now it would be for
him, the other chief, to carry the work on and help to raise funds
sufficient to erect the institution. Buhkwujjenene listened attentively
while I spoke, and then, laying his pipe down, replied as follows:

"It is true I have often thought that I would like to visit the great
country across the great salt water, and I have sometimes thought that
the day would come for me to do so; still, I am getting advanced in
years now. I am no longer young as I used to be. I am not always well,
and it is a long way to go. Nevertheless I am willing to accompany you
if the Great Spirit wills it. I committed myself to the hands of the
Great Spirit when I became a Christian forty years ago. If it is His
will that I should go, I will go; if it is not His will I will stay
here."

A few days after this the Indians held a council in the school-house,
when it was definitely arranged that Buhkwujjenene should accompany me
to England, and the Indians agreed to sell an ox, which belonged to
them in common, to assist in defraying his expenses.

The party who were to make the trip across the Atlantic consisted of
Mrs. Wilson, our little boy Archie (whom the Indians call Tecumseh,
after the celebrated chief who fought under Sir Isaac Brock in 1812),
Chief Buhkwujjenene, and myself. We started on a bright Monday morning
towards the middle of May, the first part of our journey being
accomplished in the steam-boat _Waubuno,_ which took us as far as
Collingwood, a distance of 300 miles. From Collingwood we took train
about 100 miles to Toronto, where we staid a few days; then from
Toronto we took train _via_ Niagara and Buffalo to New York. Our
train arrived a few hours only before the steamship _The India_
was to start.

So far Chief Buhkwujjenene had seen nothing more than he had seen
before in his life, for he had already on more than one occasion
travelled through Canada. Now however that he was embarked on an ocean
steamer, all would, for the next few months, be new to him. One of his
first experiences was the qualms of sea-sickness, and I verily believe
he thought he was going to die. However, as with the white man so with
the Indian, a few days on the salt water set him all right, and
strength, spirits and appetite returned. One evening on deck he told me
a dream he had had shortly before I proposed for him to accompany me.
"I thought I was working outside my house," he said, "when I heard the
note of a loon. (The loon is a favourite bird among the Indians, and
they regard it with superstitious reverence.) The sound came from the
Western sky, and I gazed in that direction to try if I could see the
bird. In another moment I heard the sweep of its wings over my head,
and there it flew sailing majestically along and drawing after it an
airy phantom ship with three masts; it sailed away off east, still
uttering its monotonous note till it was lost to view. Thus my dream
has come true," he said, "for this is the three-masted vessel that I
saw in my dream, and the loon is dragging us along!"

At length the north coast of Ireland came in sight, and then the
Scotch coast, and finally we came to anchor in the harbour at Greenock.
It was late in the evening, about 8 p.m., when we arrived, and we heard
that there was a through train to London at 8.30, so we made a great
effort to catch it; we succeeded in boarding the train at the very last
moment, and were off by the night mail to London.

The next morning there appeared the following interesting, though not
very truthful, notice in the _Glasgow Herald:_--"An interesting
stranger has arrived in this country, and it may possibly turn out that
the 'Coming Man' has come at last. His name, we understand, is Chief
Buhkwujjenene, which signifies 'a man of the Desert,' and he landed in
Greenock from the Anchor Line steamer _India_. The man was dressed
in the full costume of the Chippewa tribe, to which he belongs, namely,
skins, feathers, &c. He is described as being tall and handsome, with a
frank but thoughtful face, and appeared to be about thirty years of
age. It is understood that this chief, who proceeded immediately per
mail train to London, has been converted to Christianity, and has been
brought over to England under the auspices of the Church of England
Missionary Society, in order that he may be instructed in Christian
truth, fitting him to return as a native teacher and preacher among his
tribe in the backwoods of America. A more appropriate lodging for 'a
man of the Desert' cannot be found in the whole world than Leicester
Square; though whether he would receive much Christian truth in that
locality is another question. If he would send for his tribe, and
encamp there permanently, a picturesque effect might be produced at a
very trifling outlay."

We travelled all night, and were due at Euston Square the following
day. Early the next morning we sent on the following telegram to
announce our arrival to our unexpecting friends:--"Myself, wife,
Archie, and Indian chief have arrived; shall reach Euston at 3 p.m."
This was the first intimation that our friends had of the certainty of
our paying them a visit, as we had come away by the first boat down on
the opening of navigation, and our letters sent by dog-sleigh a week or
two before that were still on the road. Still less had they any
expectation of an introduction to one of the natives of our wild
backwoods.

Our train steamed into Euston Square punctual to the time after its
long run of 400 miles. And now familiar sights met our eyes after a
four years' absence from our native land; there were the cabs and the
running porters and the dense crowd of people filling the station; and
there--still more familiar sight--was my father's carriage and the well-
known figure of our coachman on the box. Then came hearty shakes of the
hand from my father and brother who had come to meet us, and Chief
Buhkwujjenene, who seemed quite lost, poor man, among the excitement
and bustle, was introduced and shook hands with the venerable English
Black-coat.

It was strange the affection that Buhkwujjenene conceived for my
brother from the first; he misunderstood his name (Arthur), and
thinking it to be Otter, always called him _Neegig._ Upon my
father he conferred the name of _Pashegonabe,_ the great eagle,
and one of my sisters he was pleased to call _Wabausenooqua,_
which title he explained to mean a little spot cleared by the wind;
though for what reason he gave this name we could never quite make out.
_Neegig_ and he became great friends; they had one thing in
common, and that was a love for tobacco, and in the summer evenings
after dinner the young white man and his grown companion would recline
on rustic seats in the garden, and smoke pipe after pipe, the red man
mixing his "baccy" with some savoury bark from his native land which he
produced from the depths of his martin-skin tobacco-pouch. They could
not understand each other's speech, but by dint of signs and a few
broken words of English occasionally introduced by the Chief, they
managed to carry on some conversation.

Quite a sensation was caused not only in the house but in the
neighbourhood by the new-comer's arrival. It was strange to see him
sitting in his blanket coat in an easy chair beneath the gas-lights in
the drawing-room, strange to see him conducting a lady in to dinner and
sitting at table awaiting the arrival and removal of the various
courses, strange to see him walking the streets with his medals on his
breast, his skunk skin and leggings and feather in his hat, or riding
in the same attire on the top of an omnibus; and yet amid it all he
bore himself with such perfect grace and self-possession that every one
admired and wondered at him. People thought he had a very pleasant
expression and agreeable manner, and they were astonished at his
politeness and the cool self-possessed way in which he accepted the
many new experiences which kept crowding upon him. A photographer in
the neighbourhood soon heard of his arrival and asked him to sit for
his portrait. Several likenesses were taken--representing him as a
Christian Chief in his ordinary dress; and as a Chief of former days in
feathers and Indian costume. As he could scarcely speak a word of
English I was obliged to be tied rather closely to him as interpreter,
and assist him in receiving visitors, numbers of whom came almost
daily. We also had a visiting-card prepared for him on which was
inscribed Chief Buhkwujjenene, Garden River, Canada. At morning and
evening prayers and in church on Sundays he was most devotional, and
whenever the Lord's prayer was repeated he joined audibly in the Indian
tongue--"_Wayoosemegooyun keezhegoong ayahyun, tah keche-
ahpeetandahgwud kedezhenekausoowin_" &c.

CHAPTER XVII.

AN INDIAN CHIEF IN ENGLAND.

We were not long in setting the Chief to work. It was Friday when we
arrived, and on the following Thursday our first meeting was held in
Bishop Wilson's Memorial Hall, Islington. Notice was given of the
meeting in church on the intervening Sunday, the Chief occupying a seat
in one of the pews, and a circular was also issued headed:--

"A RED INDIAN CHIEF'S VISIT TO ENGLAND."

The result was an overflowing meeting. The vicar occupied the chair
and a number of clergy were on the platform. Chief Buhkwujjenene
seeming to be just as much at his ease as if he were addressing a
council of his own people, stood forth and in simple eloquent terms
told his story, myself interpreting for him every time he paused.

"My brothers and sisters," he began, "I salute you. I have come all the
way across the great salt water to see you, and it does my heart good
to see so many pale faces gathered together before me." He then
recounted what had led him to take the journey. It had not been his own
wish, but he felt that God had led him to do so; God had preserved him
amid the dangers of the ocean, and he trusted that God would prosper
the cause for which he came to plead. "Many years ago," he said, "I and my
people were in a very different state to what we are now: we had no
teaching, no churches, no missionaries, our medicine men taught us to
believe in good and bad spirits and to depend on dreams. I, when a boy,
was obliged by my father to blacken my face and fast for many days
together, and while doing this it was believed that whatever I dreamed
would come true. But now we Indians at Garden River are no longer
heathen, we have all now accepted Christianity and we have our church
and our missionary. The desire of my heart is to see our religion
spread among the other Indians; we want more Missionaries to be sent to
us, and greater efforts made to extend the blessings of the Gospel. We
want our children to be taught to follow civilized trades as the white
people do. We feel that the time is past for the Indians to live by
hunting and fishing as our forefathers used to do. We wish to give up
our old habits and adopt the customs of the pale faces. In order to
accomplish this we propose that a big teaching wigwam should be built
at Garden River where our sons may be taught to carpenter and make
boots and other such things as are useful, and where our daughters may
learn needlework and knitting and spinning. This is the desire of my
heart, this is the cause for which I have come to plead. We Indians are
too poor to help ourselves, and so we look to you white people who now
occupy our hunting grounds to help us. We know that our great Mother
Queen Victoria, loves her Indian subjects; often have we fought for her
and we are ready to fight her battles again. We have readily given up
our hunting grounds to you, and all that we ask of you is that you will
help us in improving ourselves and in educating our children."

After this the Chief put on his Indian dress and sang a war song. Much
interest was stirred up by his address and the collection which was
made after the meeting amounted to upwards of L11.

The following Sunday the Holy Communion was administered at the old
parish church of St. Mary's, and among those who knelt at the rails to
receive the sacred emblems of our Lord's passion and death, was the
Indian Chief Buhkwujjenene. I repeated the words to him in his own
tongue as I administered the bread and wine.

The following day we visited the Rev. Henry Venn, the venerable
Secretary of the Church Missionary Society. He received us most kindly,
and for his own part he hoped that the Committee, whom we were to meet
on the morrow, would agree to continue their support of the mission at
Garden River, and to assist us in our proposed scheme for the
advancement and civilization of the Indians; he feared, however, we
might have some difficulty in the matter, on account of our proposed
plans not being strictly in accordance with the main object of the
Society, which is to carry the Gospel to the heathen.

Among the earliest plans made for the edification and amusement of the
Chief was a visit to the Zoological Gardens at Regent's Park. Among the
birds the Chief quickly recognized the Canadian thrush, and doffed his
hat with evident pleasure at the rencontre. We went the regular rounds,
as every one does, through the monkey-house, through the parrot-house,
down through the tunnel and alongside the canal to the house of the
reptiles, then back to where the elephants and giraffes are kept. The
hippopotamus was on land so we saw him well; the giraffes walked round
and round and bowed their necks to the visitors as they always do; the
elephant obeyed his keeper, stood up on his hind legs, elevated his
trunk, trumpeted and consumed biscuits. Then we saw the lions and
tigers fed. The Chief had a ride on one of the camels, and looked very
picturesque in his white blanket coat, though scarcely oriental enough
in his appearance to produce a natural effect.

Another day we had an interview with his Royal Highness the Prince of
Wales. It was not brought about in the way such things are generally
accomplished, but still it did very well. The occasion was the opening
of the Bethnal Green Museum. We had gallery tickets for the Chief and
myself. It was an imposing display. The centre of the hall was occupied
by all the great grandees in brilliant dress including natives of many
a foreign clime. The arrival of Royalty was signalized by a clarion
blast which thrilled through one's veins and set one on the tiptoe of
expectation. The Royal party entered, the necessary ceremonies for the
opening of the building were gone through, and then commenced a tour of
the galleries. The Prince and his suite would pass close to us. This
was a chance not to be thrown away. I had a photograph of Buhkwujjenene
in my pocket. Buhkwujjenene on his breast wore a silver medal presented
to him in common with other chiefs by the Prince on the occasion of his
visit to Canada some years before. I stepped up to one of the managers
of the Institution--Here was an Indian chief, a medal on his breast,
given him by the Prince of Wales. Would it be out of place for the
Chief to present his _carte de visite_ to the Prince? The manager
good-naturedly said that he would speak to one of the suite when they
approached and ask if it could be done. Soon the word came that the
Prince would be pleased to have Chief Buhkwujjenene presented to him.
So space was made for us by a policeman in the front ranks of the crowd--
and we awaited His Royal Highness's arrival. The moment came. His
Royal Highness greeted the Chief most cordially and pleasantly,
examined the medal on his breast, and said that he remembered his face
among the Indian chiefs who had been presented to him in Canada. "Tell
him," said the Prince to me; "tell him I remember his face perfectly."
We were then permitted to join the Royal procession and make the round
of the building.

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