Part 4

With great reluctance I refrain at present from publishing extracts from many of the letters which I have received during the year, containing contributions to the mission, and breathing encouragement to myself, kindness to the Indians, and love to the precious Redeemer. Suffice it to say that the hand of God has been strikingly manifest in many of the contributions received throughout, and particularly during the last quarter. I cannot withhold the following letter received from a poor orphan girl, a school-teacher in New Brunswick, enclosing as a “birthday offering,” a piece of gold, value $2.50. “Rev. Sir, when two weeks ago the enclosed piece of gold was handed me, I was immediately impressed with a desire to send it to you for your great mission. Not knowing the best manner of doing so, I made it a subject of prayer. Your own acquaintance with the willingness of the precious Redeemer to hear and answer prayer, will reveal to you my joy at hearing you were actually in the place. I will add no more, except, ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.’ Such a contribution and letter require no comment. In ways as unlooked for, have five cent pieces, five dollar pieces, five pound pieces, with sums of intermediate value, been received, and the gold and silver have seemed to sparkle with a celestial lustre as they have been dropped as if by angel fingers into my hands. Even the love of money may be lawful when it is inspired by the love of Christ, when the money is consecrated to Him, and used for His glory and the best interests of man. Surely under such circumstances it is neither filthy lucre nor the Mammon of unrighteousness.”

Another friend writes: “I am much pleased with the stand you have taken. Since I saw you I have had about eighteen hundred pounds removed from under my stewardship, making, with other losses, more than four thousand pounds. But as my Heavenly Father has done it, it is all right.” The brother goes on to speak of his tranquility of mind in submitting to privation and suffering, and sends the handsome sum of four dollars, evidently a thank-offering to the Lord.

I know not who the author of the following is: “Dear Brother, I herewith enclose to you four dollars, to be appropriated either for your own immediate requirements, or for the prosecution of the Micmac Mission as you may deem best.”

“I have every confidence in your work of faith, and would say persevere. I fully believe that the prayer of faith is answered by the Almighty. Pray, brother Rand, for my dear wife, who is yet, I fear, without Christ. My heart would rejoice in her conversion. I long for it. Yours, &c., A Sincere Friend.”

3. CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS.

Thus has closed what has been in some respects one of the most eventful years of the Mission. The plan of “Trusting in the Lord” for support—“Muller’s plan,” as it is called, but which, in reality, dates much further back—found at first but little favor in the eyes of our friends. It might do, they said, for England, but not for Nova Scotia,—as though the Lord were not the same everywhere. It was looked upon as an experiment, and one that would probably fail. But a plan upon which scores of ministers and missionaries both at home and in heathen lands have acted for years, and acted successfully, can hardly be regarded as an experiment. I cannot but hope that not only my own faith, but that of many others has been somewhat strengthened already. My desire to continue in the same course has been increased. The Lord can and will give us more grace, and we will go forward in His strength, giving to Him all the glory, and making mention of His righteousness, even of His only.

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OUR SUCCESS IN DISTRIBUTING THE SCRIPTURES AMONG THE INDIANS.

In order to have before us distinctly the subject, we must take into account the condition of the Micmacs when we began our labours, the obstacles we have had to encounter, and then the achievements that have been made. The whole can be summed up very briefly.

I began my labours in the year 1840—nearly forty years ago. I was thirty-six years old. The Indians, so far as civilization was concerned, with very few exceptions, were in the same condition that they had been for two hundred years before. Nominally they were Roman Catholics; they had great confidence in their priests, but as to the Bible they did not know there was such a book, and had they known there was such a book, there was no possibility of their knowing what was in it. Not more than one in a thousand could read English, even imperfectly, and that one—and others to my certain knowledge—could not understand what he read, even in the plainest spelling-book. Most carefully had they been guarded against attending the Protestant schools, and adopting the habits of the white people, and their priests carefully abstained from teaching them to read, lest—as we have their own statements to prove—they might read books that would undermine their faith. They have not only not given the Indians the Holy Scriptures, but have used all sorts of means, foul and fair, to prevent them from receiving them and learning to read them. Such was the condition of things forty years ago.

This shows of itself what were some of the chief obstacles we had to meet and overcome. But there were others, and these were formidable. To have attempted to instruct them through the medium of the English language would at the time have been simple folly. To have attempted to teach them our language without understanding theirs, and while they had no wish to learn ours, and no possible means of learning it, even had they wished it, would have been simply the scheming of insanity. The task of learning the Micmac language under the circumstances, without books, without a competent teacher, and with all the zeal and ardor of the Roman Catholic hierarchy, and the prejudices and the suspicions of the tribe aroused against us to prevent it needs only to be mentioned to be appreciated. With all the natural talent with which God had endowed me for the work, for which I am amply credited, if any one imagines the task was easily accomplished, I can only say he is _very much mistaken_. If the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ had not been with me, encouraging and aiding me in a most marvellous manner, it never would or could have been done. _But it was done_, blessed be His name forever!

And now what is the condition of things at the present day? Why the whole New Testament, with several books of the old, viz., Genesis, Exodus, Psalms,—in Micmac, and the Gospel of John in Maliseet, the language of the St. John Indians, as they are sometimes called, have been published. Scores of the Indians have learned to read them, hundreds have heard them read; they know everywhere now that there is such a book as the Bible. Scores of copies have been distributed among them, and the priests are powerless to prevent it. Furthermore, numbers have given evidence of having received the truth of the Gospel in the love of it, and by their consistent lives and triumphant deaths, have given proof of the reality of the grace they professed to have received. And mark the change which has taken place in the condition of the tribe in respect to _civilization_ since we began our labours, and as the direct result of our labours. To what else is all this to be ascribed? Certainly it has not been achieved by the Roman Catholic Church, because it has been achieved _in spite of_ that church. The old dress both of men and women has been discarded, and that of the white people adopted very generally; you can no longer tell an Indian by his dress. Comfortable houses and all the appearance of civilization, are continually to be met with. Everywhere there is a determination to obtain learning, and to learn the English language. Indian children to some extent attend the English schools which are now open to all, and many adults have mastered the mysteries of reading Micmac, one at least now living, after forty years of age who never went to school at all. I have, within the last three or four years, seen Indians all the way from Topique, Fredericton, St. John, The Restigouche, Prince Edward Island and Cape Breton; in all these places I have distributed copies of the Scriptures and of a small volume entitled “A First Reading Book in Micmac and English;” and in all these places I have found intelligent Indians who could read them, and have been most kindly and cordially received and listened to by them, as I read and preached and prayed and sang hymns to them in their own tongue; and I have scarcely met with what deserved the name of opposition.

I have never taken a particular account of books distributed, and I have never charged the Indians anything for copies of the Scriptures. I could never make up my mind to that. We have treated the Indians in this Province with such outrageous wrong, that I would gladly undo that had I the power. We have seized upon their lands, destroyed their means of living, destroyed _them_, corrupted their morals in every way,—and for Christian men, after all this, to say to them: “We will not _give_ you the Word of God unless you _pay_ for it,” it seems to me would be the wildest wickedness, from which all those who have any regard for God or conscience, should devoutly pray: “_Good Lord deliver us!_”

The B. & F. Bible Society furnished the means of printing Genesis, Exodus, Psalms and three of the Gospels and Acts in Micmac, and the Gospel of John in Maliseet. The rest of the New Testament was published—one thousand copies, by private subscriptions for that very purpose, chiefly in England, but some of it came from France and other places.

There are now in Halifax unbound about nine hundred copies. All that were bound, about eight or nine years ago, have been distributed. What I now ask is, that money may be furnished for binding a portion at least of the rest. They can be bound for ——

I may add that I have in manuscript a translation of the Books of Job and of Jonah, and some of the other narratives of the Old Testament. Genesis is out of print, and so is the Gospel of John in Maliseet, the greater portion of these having been destroyed by fire, the former in a great conflagration in Halifax many years ago, and the latter in the recent great fire in St. John.

I enclose herewith a few letters that have [been] received from different places requesting books for the Indians, the most of them written by Indians themselves. In very many cases I have taken down their names, as I have been on my missionary excursions, at their request, and sent them books by mail. These letters speak for themselves. They prove two things; that there are Indians that can read and write, and that they receive and value the books that are printed in their own tongue.

The following extract from a letter dated Dublin, Feb. 28, 1880, from His Grace Archbishop Trench, to myself, must surely find a response in every true Christian’s heart:

“I thank you much for the two little books which you have been good enough to send me. Let me congratulate you very heartily on having been permitted to help so many to hear or read in their own tongue the wonderful works of God.”

Surely we have no cause to _boast_ of our doings, but if there is one thing the advocates of the Bible in Nova Scotia have reason to be glad of,—not _proud_ of—it surely is that under God they have been permitted to unfold their priceless volume to the long-neglected Indians.

SILAS T. RAND. [Illustration]

FIRST VERSE OF SCRIPTURE TRANSLATED INTO MICMAC BY DR. RAND.

_Mudu Nikskam teliksatcus oositcumoo wedjeigunumooedogub-unn neooktoo-bistadjul oocwisul, coolaman m’sit wen tan kedlamsitc ootenincu, ma oonma-djinpooc, cadoo ooscoto apskooawe memadjooocun._—JOHN III: 16.

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“I can never forget the thrill of emotion that filled my soul and body at the completion of this task—for _task_ it was, taxing all my powers of mind and body.”—Extract from Dr. Rand’s private diary written during the summer of 1849.

J. S. C.

MICMAC MYTHOLOGY

MICMAC MYTHOLOGY.[2]

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“Weegegijik. Kessegook, wigwamk; Meskeek oodun Ulnoo, kes saak.”

[May you be happy. The old people are encamped; There was once, long ago, a large Indian village.]

With this suggestive couplet the Legends, or Ahtookwokun of the Micmacs, in their original form, almost invariably commence. The inseparable introduction shows us how the literature of the people had long ago taken on a settled form, even though there were no written records; it confirms to a considerable degree the common impression that they had a ballad arrangement, and were chanted to weird music in that ancient time; and also indicates how carefully the old men cherish the memory of their former greatness.

These people look upon their folk-lore as a sacred treasure to be carefully preserved by their holy men; and, as in our Saxon traditions the dying Bleys relates the story of Arthur’s birth, so an aged Sakumow may be heard repeating the immortal legends to faithful witnesses, just before he passes on to the regions of the far West, where Glooscap dwells in the presence of the Great Spirit, and where the golden sunsets give us foregleams of that beautiful abode, the happy hunting-ground of the faithful.

Let us approach the study of Micmac Mythology with a becoming reverence, for we are dealing with sacred things; and, as we learn what little we can about a vanishing religion, may we not join with the great American poet in the hope

“That the feeble hands and helpless Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God’s right hand in that darkness And are lifted up and strengthened.”

Dr. Silas T. Rand, to whom we are indebted for all we know about the ancient religion of the people, thought that a number of the Micmac Legends might be Bible narratives, not any more changed than one would expect after centuries of transmission by word of mouth alone. Professor E. N. Horsford, through whose foresight and generosity the legends were published, and Mr. Charles G. Leland, who has a very interesting collection of Algonquin Legends, were both persuaded that several of the stories must have come either direct from hardy Norsemen, or from the Norsemen through the Eskimo. The two legends that perhaps most closely resemble traditions found in Iceland are “The Adventures of Kaktoogwasees” and “The Beautiful Bride,” the former the thirteenth and the latter the twenty-fourth in Dr. Rand’s collection; they relate almost identical incidents, in the same order, and must have started from the same original, whether Norse or not. The variations which led Dr. Rand to consider them separate stories are probably due to some narrators having confined their attention chiefly to the attractive bride, while others had taken more delight in picturing the rugged qualities of the young Thunderer and his companions. Carefully comparing the two stories, we see that Glooscap acts a prominent part in each, always proving himself a faithful friend. He allows the travellers the use of his _kweedun_, or canoe, which is a small rocky island covered with a low growth of trees, and, more wonderful still! the _kweedun_ travels without the use of paddles wherever the owner may wish. In both tales we find a man so swift of foot that it is necessary for him to keep one leg tied up firmly to his body, except on great occasions, for when both legs are free, he cannot by any means control his actions; and, when the great occasion comes for an exhibition of his magic, he makes a complete circle around the earth, carrying a brimming goblet of water, in somewhat less than thirty minutes, thus winning the laurels for his party. In both tales, too, we find a magician who keeps the hurricane securely fastened within his nostrils, and it is very interesting when he removes the stoppages and breathes freely, raising a tempestuous sea, and laying waste whole areas of forest. Kaktoogwasees, the young Thunderer, has better magic in his party than all his enemies combined, and we do not hesitate to congratulate him as he leads home his beautiful bride, the daughter of the Earthquake, who, as described in Legend XXIV., has hair as glossy black as the wing of the raven, cheeks of crimson, and a brow as white as January snow.

Dr. Rand says: “I have not found more than five or six Indians who could relate these queer stories, and most, if not all of these, have now gone. Who the original author was, or how old they are we have no means of knowing.” It is evident that several have been borrowed from the Russians and the Eskimo; such, for example, as relate to characters having flinty hearts, or who keep their hearts hidden away within some half-dozen concentric coatings, living or dead and perhaps all hidden away in the bottom of the sea. Also, if we compare Legend III. in Dr. Rand’s collection with the one entitled “The Weaver’s Son” in Jeremiah Curtin’s “Folklore of Ireland,” we must be convinced that the Micmac Legend is an incomplete version of the Irish story. Some of the Legends may have been borrowed from every people with whom the Micmacs came in contact since their ancestors first began to wander from the highlands of Asia; but, granting that all tales bearing such resemblances have been borrowed, it may still be reasonably supposed that most of the Legends of the Micmacs are simply the crystalized thought of a people who had a keen appreciation of the beautiful, living as they did season after season in the most intimate contact with the varied manifestations of nature,—a people whose restless minds were ever on the alert to find some explanation of the workings of that

“Divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.”

Many people cannot think of mythology without seeing confused apparitions of Zeus with his family of gods and goddesses on old Olympus, but here, among the earliest Acadians, we find traditions which, when organized into a system will be worthy of the most careful study. Dr. Rand, who translated the legends and recorded them for us, did not make any attempt to classify the characters, and for that very reason his work is of the greater value to science, since he was not hunting up a basis for any theory of his own. Mr. Leland has made a beginning, in the way of grouping related stories; but someone might well spend half a life-time in opening up this promising mine, and placing Micmac Mythology, as it surely deserves to be placed, on an equality with our accepted Classics.

It may seem a rash statement, and evince a poor appreciation for the classic authors we have read, but there are those who are persuaded that in the Mythology of the Americans, as in that of our fathers, the Norsemen, we find a rugged strength and a manly purity which is very obscure if not altogether unknown among those imaginary characters which grew up in the minds of the ancient Greeks, and later became the property of Rome and the world. True, the tales of the northern nations are not so gracefully told, and themselves lack the perfect etiquette we find among the Greeks; but for strength, and brilliancy of conception, surely those great characters rudely sketched in black and white have a stimulating suggestiveness that is altogether obscure amid the milder tones and softly blending harmonies of the polished ideals of the East. Philosophers, who know, tell us that we of Northern climes cannot worship, or love, or even hate with that refinement of cruelty which those experience who bask in brighter sunshine beneath a milder sky. Suppose we yield them the palm in this respect, are we not more than repaid by the dignity and majesty that comes with the consciousness of being master of the fury of the elements! Such dignity did the Micmac heroes have; and the ideals of the people left its impress upon the character of the nation, until the necessity of self-preservation, and the slip-shod policy of their conquerors, destroyed every noble ambition.

In Micmac Mythology we have a plant of native growth which bids fair to be as beautiful and profitable as any of the famous exotics; shall we not cultivate it with some of the attention we now bestow upon Greek Mythology? and as we study the story of Acadian heroes,—rugged, strong, and beautiful in their primeval simplicity, may we not hope to hear a deep voice speaking to us through the shady vistas of the past, and saying:—

“Be thou a hero, let thy might Tramp on the eternal snows its way, And through the ebon walls of night, Carve out a passage unto day.”

Of the eighty-seven stories in Dr. Rand’s collection many are pure and simple myths; some are mythical with an evident purpose to teach some practical lesson, and so may be considered fables or parables; while still others are merely records of history, somewhat mythical, perhaps, and yet no doubt largely the record of facts.

Perhaps the feature that most impresses itself upon the careful reader is the number of instances in which weakness overcomes all obstacles. Frail children and dwarfs are able by the use of magic to overcome fabulous monsters, and destroy whole families of giants with such weapons as a spear made from a splinter, or a supple bow whose string is a single hair. A small canoe which a weak old woman can sew up in a single evening, is found sufficient to carry two men over a stormy sea in the teeth of a raging hurricane, while in the quiet of Glooscap’s tent old Noogomich, the grandmother, chips a piece of beaver bone into the pot when preparing a meal for visitors, and in a few moments the pot is seen to be full of the finest moose-meat.

The Micmacs did not worship images. They believed in a Great Spirit whom they called _Nikskam_, which means Father-of-us-all, and compares with the Norse All-fadir; to him they also gave the name _Nesulk_, meaning Maker, and _Ukchesakumow_, the Great Chief. They seem to have had that mute reverence for the Great Spirit which kept the children of Israel from lightly uttering the sacred name “Jehovah,” for we find no mention anywhere in the Legends of _Nesulk_ the Maker or _Nikskam_ the All-father. They have the name _Mundu_ which sounds like “Manitou” of the neighboring tribes, or as the poet has it: “Gitche Manito the mighty;” but they give the name to the spirit of evil. Perhaps they borrowed it from enemies, and naturally supposed that the god of their enemies must be the devil. Notice in this connection the place called “Main-de-Dieu” in Cape Breton, which, someone has said, is Mundu or _devil_ for the Micmac, and _hand of God_ for the Frenchman.