Chapter V.; and, although once after that, on a Fourth of July, he was

drunk, yet he has steadily worked for the good of his tribe. He has had a noted name, for an Indian, as an enemy to drunkenness, and his fines and other punishments on his offending people have been heavy. He gave more than any other one in the purchase of their land, and, in 1875, it was named Jamestown in honor of him. He has taken a stand against potlatches, not even going six miles to attend one when given by those under him. For a long time he was firm against Indian doctors, though a few times within about three years he has employed them when he has been sick, and no white man’s remedies which he could obtain seemed to do him any good. He was among the first three Indians to begin prayer, a practice which he kept up several years. But when in 1878 the other two united with the church, Balch declined to do so, although I had expected him as much as I had the others. He gave as his excuse that as he was chief, he would probably do something which would be used as an argument against religion--an idea I have found quite common among the Indian officers. In fact, a policeman once asked me if he could be a policeman and a Christian at the same time. Balch said that whenever he should cease being chief, he would “jump” into the church. He has continued as chief until the present time, and his interest in religion has diminished. At one time he seemed, in the opinion of the school-teacher, to trust to his morality for salvation. Then he turned to the Indian doctors, gave up prayer in his house, and now by no means attends church regularly. Still he takes a kind of fatherly interest in seeing that the church members walk straight; and the way in which he started and has upheld civilization, morality, education, and temperance will long be remembered both by whites and Indians, and its influence will continue long after he shall die.

XXXIV.

TOURING.

White people have almost universally been very kind to me, the Indians generally so, but the elements have often been adverse. These have given variety to my life--not always pleasant, but sufficient to form an item here and there; and there is nearly always a comical side to most of these experiences, if we can but see it.

One day in February, 1878, I started from Port Gamble for home with eight canoes, but a strong head-wind arose. The Indians worked hard for five hours, but traveled only ten miles and nearly all gave out, and we camped on the beach. It rained also, and the wind blew still stronger so that the trees were constantly falling near us. I had only a pair of blankets, an overcoat, and a mat with me, but having obtained another mat of the Indians, I made a slight roof over me with it and went to sleep. About two o’clock in the morning I was aroused by the Indians, when I learned that a very high tide had come and drowned them out. My bed was on higher ground than theirs, but in fifteen minutes that ground was three or four inches under water. We waded around, wet and cold, put our things in the canoes and soon started. There was still some rain and wind, and it was only by taking turns in rowing that we could keep from suffering. In four hours we were at Seabeck, where we were made comfortable, but that was a cold, long, dark, wintry morning ride.

I started from Jamestown for Elkwa, a distance of twenty-five miles, on horseback, but, after going ten miles, the horse became so lame that he could go no farther. I could not well procure another, so I proceeded on foot. Soon I reached Morse Creek, but could find no way of crossing. The stream was quite swift, having been swollen by recent rains. The best way seemed to be to ford it. So, after taking off some of my clothes, I started in. It was only about three feet deep, but so swift that it was difficult to stand, and cold as a mountain stream in December naturally is. But with a stick to feel my way, I crossed, and it only remained for me to get warm, which I soon did by climbing a high hill.

Coming from Elkwa on another trip on horseback, with a friend, we were obliged to travel on the beach for eight miles, as there was no other road. The tide was quite high, the wind blowing, and the waves came in very roughly. There were many trees lying on the beach, around which we were compelled to canter as fast as we could when the waves were out. But one time my friend, who was just ahead, passed safely, while I was caught by the wave which came up to my side, and a part of which went over my head. It was very fortunate that my horse was not carried off his feet.

Once I was obliged to stay in one of their houses in the winter, a thing I have seldom done, unless there is no white man’s house near, even in the summer, when I have preferred to take my blankets and sleep outside. The Indians have said that they are afraid the panthers will eat me; but between the fleas, rats, and smoke (for they often keep their old-fashioned houses full of smoke all night), sleep is not refreshing, and the next morning I feel more like a piece of bacon than a minister.

Traveling in February with about seventy-five Indians, it was necessary that I should stay all night in an Indian house to protect them from unprincipled white men. The Indians at the village where we stayed were as kind as could be, assigning me to their best house, where there was no smoke; giving me a feather-bed, white sheets, and all very good except the fleas. Before I went to sleep I killed four, in two or three hours I waked up and killed fourteen, at three o’clock eleven more, and in the morning I left without looking to see how many there were remaining.

But Indian houses are not the only unpleasant ones. Here we are at a hotel, the best in a saw-mill town of four or five hundred people; but the bar-room is filled with tobacco-smoke, almost as thick as the smoke from the fires which often fills an Indian house. Here about fifty men spend a great portion of the night, and some of them all night, in drinking, gambling, and smoking. The house is accustomed to it, for the rooms directly over the bar-room are saturated with smoke, and I am assigned to one of these rooms. Before I get to sleep the smoke has so filled my nostrils that I can not breathe through them, and at midnight I wake up with a headache so severe that I can scarcely hold up my head for the next twenty-four hours. It is not so bad, however, but that I can do a little thinking on this wise: Who are the lowest--the Indians, or these whites? The smoke is of equal thickness: that of the Indians, however, is clean smoke from wood; that of the whites, filthy from tobacco. The Indian has sense enough to make holes in the roof where some of it may escape; the white man does not even do that much. The Indian sits or lies near the ground, underneath a great portion of it; the white man puts a portion of his guests and his ladies’ parlor directly over it. Sleeping in the Indian smoke I come out well, although feeling like smoked bacon, and a thorough wash cures it; but sleeping in that of the white man I come out sick, and the brain has to be washed.

In August, 1879, with my wife and three babies, and three Indians, I was coming home from a month’s tour among the Clallams, in a canoe. One evening from five o’clock until nine the rain poured down, as it sometimes does on Puget Sound. With all that we could do it was impossible to keep dry. Oilcloth, umbrellas, and blankets would not keep the rain out of the bottom of the canoe, or from reaching some of our bedding. At nine o’clock we reached an old deserted house with half the roof off, and we crawled into it. The roof was off where the fire-place was situated, so we tried to dry ourselves, keep warm, and dry some bedding, while holding umbrellas over us, in order that every thing should not get wet as fast as it was dried. As soon as a few clothes got dry, we rolled up a baby and he was soon asleep; and so on for three hours we packed one after another away, until I was the only one left. But the rest had all of the dry bedding. There was one pair of blankets left, and they were soaked through. I knew that if I attempted to dry them I might as well calculate to sit up until morning. So I warmed them a little, got close to the warm places, pulled on two or three more wet things, pulled up a box on one side to help keep warm, leaned up my head slantingwise against a perpendicular wall for a pillow, and went to sleep. Some writers say that a person must not sleep in one position all night; if he does he will die. I did not suffer from that danger during that night. The next morning we had to start about five o’clock because of the tide, without any breakfast. When about eight o’clock we reached a farm-house, and warmed up, where the people spent most of the forenoon getting a good warm breakfast for us, free of all charges, we did wish that they could receive the blessing forty times over mentioned in the verse about the cup of cold water, for it was worth a hundred cups of _cold_ water that morning. No one of us, however, took cold on that night.

Only once have I ever felt that there was much danger in traveling in a canoe. I was coming from Clallam Bay to Jamestown in November, 1883, with five Indians. We left Port Angeles on the afternoon of the last day with a good wind, but when we had been out a short time and it was almost dark, a low, black snow-squall struck us. There was no safe place to land, and we went along safely until we reached the Dunginess Spit, which is six miles long. There is a good harbor on the east side of it; but we were on the west side, and the Indians said that it was not safe to attempt to go around it, for those snow-squalls are the worst storms there are, and the heavy waves at the point would upset us. It was better to run the risk of breaking our canoe while landing than to run the risk of capsizing in those boiling waters. So we made the attempt, but could not see how the waves were coming in the darkness, and after our canoe touched the beach, but before we could draw it up to a place of safety, another wave struck it, and split it for nearly its whole length. But we were all safe. Fortunately we were only seven miles from Jamestown; so we took our things on our backs and walked the rest of the way, all of us very thankful that we were not at the bottom of the sea.

XXXV.

THE BIBLE AND OTHER BOOKS.

Naturally most of the Indians did not care to buy Bibles at first. They were furnished free to the school-children, and, like many other things that cost nothing, were not very highly prized, nor taken care of half as well as they ought to have been. Still they learned that it was the sacred Book and when one after another left school most of them possessed a Bible. I had not been here long when an Indian bought one, and, having had the family record of a white friend of his written in it, he presented it to the man, who had none. It caused some comment that an Indian should be giving a Bible to a white man. When the first apprentices received their first pay, a good share of their earnings were invested in much better Bibles than they had previously been able to buy.

The following item appeared in _The San Francisco Pacific_ in March, 1880:--

“LO, THE POOR INDIAN!

“The following facts speak volumes. Let all read them.--[Chaplain Stubbs, Oregon Editor.]

“During 1879 I acted as agent of the Bible Society for this region. The sales amounted to over twenty-two dollars to the Indians, out of a total of thirty-two dollars. Of the seventy-five Bibles and Testaments sold, thirty-nine were bought by them, varying in price from five cents to three dollars and thirty cents. These facts, with other things, show that there is some literary taste among them. Not many of the older ones can read, hence do not wish for books; but many have adorned their houses with Bible and other pictures, twenty of them having been counted in one house, nearly all of which were bought with their money. In the house of a newly married couple, both of whom have been in school, are twenty-seven books, the largest being a royal octavo Bible, reference, gilt. _The Council Fire_ is taken here. In a room where four boys stay, part of whom are in school, and the rest of whom are apprentices,--none of them being over seventeen years old,--will be found _The Port Townsend Argus_ and _The Seattle Intelligencer_. On the table is an octavo Bible, for the boys have prayers every evening by themselves, and two of them have spent about five dollars each for other books, “Christ in Literature” being among them. At another house are three young men who have twenty volumes. One of them has paid twenty dollars for what he has bought; Youmans’s Dictionary of Every-day Wants, Webster’s Unabridged, Moody’s and Punshon’s Sermons being among them. He was never in school until he was about twenty-two years old and nine months will probably cover all the schooling he ever had. Here will be found _The Pacific_. In another house the occupant has spent about fifty dollars for books, and his library numbers thirty volumes. Among them will be found an eighteen-dollar family Bible, Chambers’s Information for the People, “Africa” by Stanley, Life of Lincoln, and Meacham’s Wigwam and Warpath. Here also, is _The Pacific_, _The West Shore Olympia Courier_, _The Council Fire_, and _The American Missionary_. This man never went to school but two or three weeks, having picked up the rest of his knowledge. When Indians spend their money thus, it shows that there is an intellectual capacity in them that can be developed.”

It has been, however, and still is, somewhat difficult to cultivate in many of them a taste for reading, so as to continue to use it when older. This is not because of a want of intellectual capacity, but for three other reasons. First, as soon as they leave school and go back among the uneducated Indians, there is no stimulus to induce them to read. The natural influence is the other way, to cause them to drop their books. Second, like white people who remain in one place continually, they are but little interested in what is going on in the outside world. Third, in most books and papers there are just enough large difficult words which they do not understand to spoil the sense, and thus the interest in the story is destroyed. Yet notwithstanding these discouragements, the present success together with the prospect that it will be much greater in the future, as more of them become educated, is such as to make us feel that it pays.

XXXVI.

BIBLE PICTURES.

It is very plain that Indians who can not read, and even some who can read, but only a little, need something besides the Bible to help them remember it. Were white people to hear the Bible explained once or twice a week only, with no opportunity to read it, they would be very slow to acquire its truths. It hence became very plain that some good Scripture illustrations would be very valuable. I could not, however, afford to give them to the Indians, nor did I think it best, as generally that which costs nothing is good for nothing. But to live three thousand miles from the publishing-houses and find what was wanted was difficult, for it was necessary that they should be of good size, attractive, and cheap. For eight years I failed to find what was a real success. Fanciful Bible-texts are abundant, but they convey no Bible instruction to older Indians. Small Bible pictures, three or four by four or six inches are furnished by Nelson & Sons, and others, but they were too small to hang over the walls of their houses and they did not care to buy them. I often put them into my pocket, when visiting, and explained them to the Indians, and so made them quite useful. The same company furnished larger ones, about twelve by eighteen inches, which were good pictures. The retail price was fifty cents. I obtained them by the quantity at about thirty-seven cents and sold them for twenty-five, but they were not very popular. It took too much money to make much of a show. The Providence Lithograph Company publish large lithographs, thirty by forty-four inches, for the International Sabbath-school Lessons, which were somewhat useful. I obtained quite a number, second-hand, at half-price, eight for a dollar, and often used them as the text of my pulpit preaching, but when I was done with them I generally had to give them away. They were colored and showy but too indefinite to be attractive enough to the Indians to induce them to pay even that small price for them.

At last I came across some large charts, on rollers, highly colored, published by Haasis & Lubrecht, of New York. They were twenty-eight by thirty-five inches, and I could sell them for twenty-five cents each, and they were very popular. They went like hot cakes--were often wanted faster than I could get them, although I procured from twenty to forty and sometimes more at once. Protestant and Catholic Indians, Christians and medicine-men, those off the reservation and on other reservations as well as at Skokomish, were equally pleased with them, so that I sold four hundred and fifty in twenty-one months. They were large, showy, cheap, and good, care being used not to obtain some purely Catholic pictures which they publish.

“The Story of the Bible,” “Story of the Gospel,” and “First Steps for Little Feet in Gospel Paths,” also have proved very useful for those who can read a little but can not understand all the hard words in the Bible. Their numerous pictures are attractive, and the words are easy to be understood.

XXXVII.

THE SABBATH-SCHOOL.

From the first a Sabbath-school has been held on the reservation. Previous to the time when Agent Eells took charge, while Mr. D. B. Ward and Mr. W. C. Chattin were the school-teachers, they worked in this way. But there was no Sabbath-school in the region which the Indians had seen; the white influences on the reservation by no means ran parallel with their efforts, and it was hard work to accomplish a little. In 1871 Agent Eells threw all his influence in favor of it before there were any ministers on the reservation or any other Sabbath service, with the agent as superintendent. After ministers came, it was held soon after the close of the morning service. The school-children and whites were expected to be present, as far as was reasonable, and the older Indians were invited and urged to remain. Sometimes they did and there was a large Bible class, and sometimes none stayed.

A striking feature of the school has been the effort made to induce the children to learn the lesson. Sometimes they were merely urged to, and sometimes the agent compelled them so to do, much as if they were his own children. Six verses have usually been a lesson sometimes all of them being new ones, and sometimes three being in advance and three in review. Those who committed them all to memory were placed on the roll of honor, and those who had them all perfectly received two credit-marks; so that if there were no interruption on any Sabbath in the school, 104 was the highest number that any one could obtain. During 1875 the record was kept for fifty Sabbaths, and the highest number of marks obtained by any of the Indian children was forty-eight, by Andrew Peterson. Eighty-eight were obtained by each of two white children, Minnie Lansdale and Lizzie Ward. Twenty of the Indian children were on the roll of honor some of the time. During 1876 Miss Martha Palmer, an Indian girl, received eighty-six marks out of a possible hundred. The next highest was a white girl, then a half-breed girl, then an Indian boy, and then a white boy. During 1877 the same Martha Palmer received ninety-six marks, the highest number possible that year, there having been no school on four Sabbaths. In 1878 Martha Palmer and Emily Atkins each committed the six verses to memory and recited them perfectly at the school during forty-nine Sabbaths, there having been no school on three Sabbaths. That was the best report during the ten years. The highest number in 1883 was by Annie Sherwood, but the number of credit-marks was only forty-eight.

Sometimes we followed the simplest part of the Bible through by course and sometimes used the International Lessons. The former plan was in many respects better for the scholars, as the International Lessons skipped about so much that the children often lost the connection; they were sometimes not adapted for Indians, and the children would lose the quarterlies or their lesson-papers. The latter plan was for some reasons better for the teachers, as they could get helps in the quarterlies to understand the lesson which they could not well get elsewhere. Sabbath-school papers with a Bible picture in them and an explanation of it were valuable. Such at last I found in _The Youth’s World_ for 1883. Once a month, while I had them, I gave the papers to the teachers the Sabbath previous and told the scholars to learn a few verses in the Bible about the picture. Then every child received the paper on the Sabbath, and the story was explained.

At first nearly all the teachers were whites; but in time, as the whites moved away and the young men and women became older and more competent, they took up the work. About half of the teachers during the last two years were Indians. Agent Eells was superintendent of the school from its beginning in 1871 until 1882, when his head-quarters were removed to another reservation, since which time I have had charge. When the agent left he received from the school a copy of Ryle’s Commentary on John, in three volumes, which present was accompanied by some very appropriate remarks by Professor A. T. Burnell, then in charge of the school.

“Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth,” said Christ, and we found this to be true; the committing to memory of so many verses produced its natural effect. The seed sown grew. Eighteen Indian children out of the Sabbath-school have united with the church.

The average attendance on the school at Skokomish has varied. From June, 1875, to June, 1876, it was eighty-five, and that was the highest. From June, 1881, to June, 1882, it was forty-seven, which was the lowest. The dismissal of employees and their families and the “dark days,” of which mention has been made, caused decrease for a time.

XXXVIII.

PRAYER MEETINGS.

Another of the first meetings established on the reservation under the new policy was the prayer-meeting along with the Sabbath-school. To those white people near the reservation who cared but little for religion, and who had known the previous history of the reservation, a prayer-meeting on a reservation! ah, it was a strange thing, but they afterward acknowledged that it was a very proper thing for such a place. That regular church prayer-meeting has been kept up from 1871 until the present time, varied a little at times to suit existing circumstances. The employees and school-children were the principal attendants, as it was too far away from most of the Indians for them to come in the evening. But few of the children ever took part. Too many wise heads of a superior race frightened them even if they had wished to do so. The average attendance on it has varied from twenty-two in 1875 to thirty-eight in 1880. Previous to 1880, it ranged below thirty--since then above that number.

To suit the wants of the children we had boys’ prayer-meetings and girls’ prayer-meetings. Sometimes these were merely talks to them, and sometimes they took part. In the summer of 1875 the white girls first made a request to have one. I had been to our Association and on my return I reported what I had heard of a children’s meeting at Bellingham Bay. Two of the girls were impressed with the idea and made a request for a similar one. Indian girls were soon invited to come and more or less took part. It was not long before from its members some came into the church. For a long time my mother had charge of this. She died in 1878, after which my wife took charge. The white girls at last all left and only Indian girls remained in it. They have often taken their turn in leading the meeting.

Although for two or three years I had asked a few boys to come to my house from time to time to teach them and try to induce them to pray, yet they never did any thing more than to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, until February, 1877. Then three boys came and asked for instruction on this subject, and soon we had a prayer-meeting in which all took part. Previous to that school-boys had seemed to be interested in religion, but when they became older and mingled more with the older Indians they went back again into their old ways; but none ever went as far as these did then--none ever prayed where a white person heard them or asked to have a prayer-meeting with their minister. During that summer the interest increased and it grew gradually to be a meeting of twenty with a dozen sometimes taking part, but all were not Christians. After a few months of apparent Christian life, some found the way too hard for them and turned back, yet a number of them came into the church.

But all of these meetings did not reach the older Indians. They were too far away to attend, and, had they been present, the meeting was in an unknown tongue. So in the summer of 1875 I began holding meetings at their logging-camps. They were welcomed by some, while with some, especially those who leaned toward the Catholic religion and the old native religion, it was hard work to do any thing. In these meetings I was usually assisted by the interpreter John Palmer. At our church services and Sabbath-school it was very difficult to induce them to sing or to say any thing. There were enough white folks to carry them and they were willing to be carried. At our first meetings with them they sang and talked well, but preferred to wait a while before they should pray in public. They did not know what to say, was the excuse they gave. On reading I found that the natives at the Sandwich Islands were troubled in the same way; and I remembered that the disciples said: “Lord, teach us how to pray, as John also taught his disciples;” so we offered to teach them how, for they professed to be Christians. One of us would say a sentence and then ask one of the better ones to repeat it afterward. I remember how something comical struck one of the Indians during one of these prayers and he burst out laughing in the midst of it. Feeling that a very short prayer would be the best probably for them to begin with alone, I recommended that they ask a blessing at their meals. This was acceptable to some of them. I taught them a form, and they did so for that fall and a part of the winter. I once asked one Indian if he ever prayed. His reply was that he asked a blessing on Sabbath morning at his breakfast. That was all, and he seemed to think that it was enough.

When winter came the logging-camps closed and they went to their homes. They were too far off to hold evening services with them, because of the mud, rain, and darkness, and, as they had but little to do, I took Tuesdays for meetings with them. About the first of December we induced four of them to pray in a prayer-meeting without any assistance from us. This meeting was three hours long. It seemed as if a good beginning had been made, but Satan did not propose to let us have the victory quite so easily. In less than a week after this the Indians were all drawn into a tribal sing tamahnous, and all of these praying Indians took some part, though only one seemed to be the leader of it. That was the end of his praying for years. The agent told him that he had made a fool of himself and he said that it was true. In 1883 he was among the first to join the church and since then he has done an excellent work. Still I kept up the meetings during the winter. The Indian, however, is very practical. His ideas of spiritual things are exceedingly small. His heaven is sensual and his prayers to his tamahnous are for life, food, clothes, and the like. So when they began to pray to God, they prayed much for these things, and when they did not obtain all for which they asked, they grew tired. Others then laughed at them for their want of success. I talked of perseverance in prayer.

Not long after this the trouble with Billy Clams and his wife, as already related under the head of marriage, occurred. He escaped at first, but others were put in jail for aiding him. At one of the first meetings after this trouble began, I asked one to pray, but he only talked. I asked another and he said “No,” very quickly, and there was only one left. Soon after this, they held a great meeting to petition the agent to release the prisoners. The only praying one prayed earnestly that this might be done. The petition was rightfully refused. The other Indians laughed at him for his failure, and that stopped his praying in public for a long time, with one exception. Once afterward we held a meeting with them and after some urging a few took part, but it was a dying affair. Notwithstanding all that they had said about being Christians, the heart was not there, and until 1883 hardly any of the older uneducated Indians prayed in public in our meetings. Of those four, one left the reservation and became a zealous Catholic; one has apparently improved some; one was nearly ruined by getting a wife with whom he could not get along for a time, and at last became a leader in the shaking religion; and one, as already stated, has done very well.

The next summer, 1876, I visited their logging-camps considerably, and was well received by some, while others treated me as coldly as they dared, doing only what they could not help doing. But they did not take as much part in the meetings as they had done the previous summer, talking very little and praying none. Their outward progress toward religion had received a severe check. As has been the case with some other tribes, Satan would not give up without a hard struggle. Like some of the disciples, they found the gospel a hard saying, could not bear it, and went back and walked no more with Christ.

The business of logging was overdone for several years, and during that time I was not able to gather them together much for social meetings. I worked mainly by pastoral visiting. In the winter of 1881-82 some of them went to the Chehalis Reservation and attended some meetings held by the Indians there and were considerably aroused. They again asked for meetings and held them, but while they were free to talk and sing, they were slow to pray. Logging revived, and I held meetings quite constantly with them during the next two years.

At that time four of them professed to take a stand for Christ. Gambling was a besetting sin of some of them, but with some help from the school-boys, who had now grown to be men, they passed through the Fourth of July safely, although there was considerable of it on the grounds, and two of them were strongly urged to indulge. The other two were absent. But in the fall there was a big Indian wedding with considerable gambling and horse-racing, and then two fell. Another did a very wrong thing in another way and was put in jail for it, and that stopped his praying for a time, though he has since begun it again. The other was among the first of the older Indians to join the church in 1883, and he has done a firm good work for us since.

In other camps I was welcomed also, but it has ever been difficult to induce them, even the Christians, to pray or speak much in public. Those prayer-meetings have usually been what I have had to say. Occasionally they speak a little; but, not being able to read, their thoughts run in a small circle, and they are apt to say the same things over again, and they tire of it unless something special occurs to arouse them. “You speak,” they often say to me, when I have asked them to say something. “You know something and can teach us; we do not know any thing and we will listen.” It is a fact that what we obtain from the Bible is the great source of our instruction for others; still if we are Christians and know only a little, the Spirit sometimes sanctifies that even in a very ignorant person so that he may do some good with it.

The Clallam prayer-meetings at Jamestown have been different. They began them when I visited them only once in six months, hence they had to take part or give them up. They were not willing to do the latter, therefore they have had to do the former. Sometimes eight or ten take part. They seem to expect that if a person join the church he will take part in the prayer-meeting, and the children of thirteen or fourteen years of age do so with the older ones. Thrown on their own resources in this respect, as well as in others, it has had its advantages.

XXXIX.

INDIAN HYMNS.

Our first singing was in English, as we knew of no hymns in the languages which the Indians could understand. In the Sabbath-school prayer-meeting and partly in church we have continued to use them, as the children understand English, and it is best to train them to use the language as much as possible. “Pure Gold” and the Gospel Hymns and Sacred Songs, as used by Messrs. Moody and Sankey, have been in use among the Indian children for the last twelve years. Two or three of the simplest English songs which repeat considerably have also been learned by many of the older Indians, who understand a little of our language, as: “Come to Jesus!” and “Say, brothers, will you meet us?” Yet all these did not reach the large share of the older Indians as we wished to reach them. “What are you doing out here?” “Why do you not go to Sabbath-school?” were questions which were asked one Sabbath by the wife of the agent to an Indian who was wandering around outside during that service. His reply was that as the first part of the exercises and the singing were in English they were very dry and uninteresting to him. Only when the time came for singing the Chinook song was he much interested. That was in 1874, and there was only one such song, which the agent had made previous to my coming; but the want of them, as expressed by that Indian, compelled us to make more. The first efforts were to translate some of our simpler hymns into the Chinook language, but this we found to be impracticable, with one or two exceptions. The expressions, syllables, words, and accent did not agree well enough for it; so we made up some simple sentiment, repeated it two or three times, fitted it to one of our tunes, and sang it. In the course of time we had eight or ten Chinook songs. They repeated considerably, because the older Indians could not read and had to learn them from hearing them, somewhat after the principle of the negro songs. Major W. H. Boyle visited us in 1876, and was much interested in this singing. He took copies of the songs and said he would see if he could not have them printed on the government press belonging to the War Department, at Portland, free of expense; but I presume he was not able to have it done, as I never heard of them again.

In my visits among white people and in other Sabbath-schools I was often called upon to sing them, and was then often asked for a copy; so often was this done that I grew tired of copying them. Encouraged by this demand and by Major Boyle’s interest in them, I thought I would see if I could not have them published. I wrote to several other reservations, asking for copies of any such hymns which they might have, hoping that they also would bear a share of the expense of publishing them; but I found that most of them had no such songs, and, to my surprise, some seemed to have no desire for them. So I was compelled to carry on the little affair alone. I was unable to bear the expense, but fortunately then Mr. G. H. Himes, of Portland, consented to run all risks of printing them, and so in 1878 a little pamphlet, entitled “Hymns in the Chinook Jargon Language,” was printed, and it has been very useful. The following, from its introductory note, may be of interest:--

“These hymns have grown out of Christian work among the Indians.... The chief peculiarity which I have noticed in making hymns in this language is that a large proportion of the words are of two syllables, and a large majority of these have the accent on the second syllable, which renders it almost impossible to compose any hymns in long, common, or short metres.”

The following remarks were made about it by the editor of _The American Missionary_:--

“It is not a ponderous volume like those in use in our American churches, with twelve or fifteen hundred hymns, but a modest pamphlet of thirty pages, containing both the Indian originals and the English translations. The tunes include, among others, ‘Bounding Billows,’ ‘John Brown,’ and ‘The Hebrew Children.’ The hymns are very simple and often repeat all but the first line. The translations show the poverty of the language to convey religious ideas.... It is no little task to make hymns out of such poor materials. Let it be understood that these are only hymns for the transition state--for Indians who can remember a little and who sing in English as soon as they have learned to read. This little book is a monument of missionary labor and full of suggestion as to the manifold difficulties to be encountered in the attempt to Christianize the Indians of America.”

Since then I have made a few others which have never been printed, one of which is here given. The cause of it was as follows: One day I asked an Indian what he thought of the Christian religion and the Bible. His reply was that it was good, very good, for the white man, but that the Indian’s religion was the best for him. Hence in this hymn I tried to teach them that the Bible is not a book for the white people alone, but for the whole world--an idea which is now quite generally accepted among them. In all we now have sixteen hymns in Chinook, five in Twana, five in Clallam, and two in Nisqually.

_Tune_, “Hold the Fort.”

(1) Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh, Yáka Bible kloshe, Kópa kónoway Bóston tíllikums Yáka hías kloshe.

CHORUS.

Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh, Yáka Bible kloshe, Kópa kónoway tíllikums álta, Yáka hías kloshe.

(2) Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh, Yáka Bible kloshe, Kópa kónoway Síwash tíllikums Yáka hías kloshe.

CHORUS.

Sághalie Tyee, etc.

(3) Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh, Yáka Bible kloshe, Kópa kónoway King George tíllikums Yáka hías kloshe.--_Cho._

TRANSLATION.

(1) God, His paper-- His Bible is good; For all American people It is very good.

CHORUS.

God, His paper-- His Bible is good; For all people now It is very good.

(2) God, His paper-- His Bible is good; For all Indian people It is very good.

(3) God, His paper-- His Bible is good; For all English people It is very good.

By changing a single word in the third line to Pa sai ooks (French), China, Klale man (black men, or negroes), we had other verses.

In time I, however, became satisfied that the Indians would be better pleased if they could sing a few songs in their native languages; but it was very difficult to make them, as I could not talk their languages, and so could not revolve a sentence over until I could make it fit a tune. The Indians, on the other hand, were too young or too ignorant of music to adapt the words properly to it for many years. I had, however, written down about eighteen hundred words and sentences in each of the Twana, Clallam, and Squaxon dialects of the Nisqually language, for Major J. W. Powell at Washington, and could understand the Twana language a very little, and this knowledge helped me greatly. Some of the older school-boys became interested in the subject, and so we worked together. After some attempts, which were failures, we were able in 1882 to make a few hymns which have become quite popular. Some the Indians themselves made, and some they and I made. The following samples are given of one in each language:--

TWANA.

_Tune_, “Balerma.”

(1) Se-seéd hah-háh kleets Badtl Sowul-lús! Se-seed hah-háh sa-lay! Se-seéd hah-háh kleets Badtl Sowul-lús! Se-seed hah-háh sa-láy!

(2) O kleets Badtl Wees Sowul-lús, Bis e-lál last duh tse-du-ástl A-hots ts-kai-lubs tay-tlía e-du-ástl; Bis-ó-shub-dúh e du-wús!

TRANSLATION.

Great Holy Father God! Great Holy Spirit! Great Holy Father God! Great Holy Spirit!

O our Father God, We cry in our hearts For the sins of our hearts; Have mercy on our hearts!

CLALLAM.

_Tune_, “Come to Jesus!”

(1) N ná a Jesus A-chu-á-atl.

(2) Tse-íds kwe nang un tun A-chu-á-atl.

(3) E-yum-tsa Jesus A-chu-á-atl.

(4) E-á-as hó-y A-chu-á-atl.

TRANSLATION.

(1) Come to Jesus Now.

(2) He will help you Now.

(3) He is strong Now.

(4) He is ready Now.

SQUAXON DIALECT OF THE NISQUALLY.

_Tune_, “Jesus loves me.”

The following is a translation of our hymn, “Jesus loves me, this I know,” so literally that it can be sung in both languages at the same time. The other two verses have also been likewise translated.

(1) Jesus hatl tobsh, al kwus us hai-tuh, Gwutl te Bible siats ub tobsh: Way-so-buk as-tai-ad seetl, Hwāk us wil luhs gwulluh seetl as wil luhl.

CHORUS.

A Jesus hatl tobsh, Gwutl ti Bible siats ub tobsh.

(2) Jesus hatl tobsh, tsātl to át-to-bud Guk-ud shugkls ak hāk doh shuk, Tsātl tloh tsa-gwud buk dzas dzuk Be kwed kwus cha-chushs atl tu-us da.

As an illustration of the difficulty I had, the following is given. I wished to obtain the chorus to the hymn, “I’m going home,” and obtained the expression, “I will go home,” in Clallam, in the following seven different ways. The last one was the only one that would fit the music.

O-is-si-ai-a tsa-an-tok^{hu}. Ku-kwa-chin-is-hi-a tok^{hu}. Ho-hi-a-tsan-u-tok-^{hu}. Tsā-ā-ting-tsin-no-tok^{hu}. U-tsā-it-tok^{hu}. U-its-tla-hutl tok-^{hu}. To-kó-tsa-un.

As a literary curiosity I found that the old hymn, “Where, oh, where is good old Noah?” to the tune of “The Hebrew Children,” could be sung in four languages at the same time, and this was the only English hymn that I was ever able to translate into Chinook jargon, thus:--

_Chinook Jargon._--Kah, O kah mit-lite Noah álta? _Twana._--Di-chád, di chád ká-o way klits Noah? _Clallam._--A-hín-kwa, a hín chees wi-á-a Noah? Far off in the promised land.

CHORUS.

By-and-by we’ll go home to meet them. _Chinook Jargon._--Alki nesika klatawa nánitch. _Twana._--At-so-i-at-so-i hoi klis-há-dab sub-la-bad. _Clallam._--I-á che hátl sche-túng-a-whun.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

_Chinook Jargon._--Where, oh, where, is Noah now? _Twana._--Where, oh, where, is Noah? _Clallam._--Where, oh, where, is Noah now? Far off in the promised land.

CHORUS.

By-and-by we’ll go home to meet them. _Chinook._--Soon we will go and see [him]. _Twana._--Soon we will go and see him. _Clallam._--Far off in the good land.

These sentences can be mixed up in these languages in any way, make good sense, and mean almost precisely the same. I found no other hymn in which I could do likewise, but the chorus to “I’m going home” can be rendered similarly in the English, Twana, and Clallam.

Clallams are much more natural singers than the Twanas. For this reason, and also because there have never been enough whites in church to do the singing for them, there has never been any difficulty in inducing them to sing in church. But for very many years it was different with the Twanas. When the services were first begun among them the singing was in English and they were not expected to take part in it. When hymns were first made in the Chinook jargon there were so many whites to sing in church, that the Indians did not seem to take hold. They would sing well enough at their camps, the boys would sing loud enough when alone at the boarding-house or outdoors, but when they came to church they were almost mum. The whites and the school-girls did most of it. It is only within the past year or two that a perceptible change has been made for the better.

XL.

NATIVE MINISTRY AND SUPPORT.

But little has been done in these respects except to sow the seed, but if the work shall continue another ten years I trust that more will be accomplished. Since I have been here I have worked with the idea that in time the Indians ought to furnish their own ministers and support them. It will, however, naturally take more time to raise up a native ministry than a native church, native Christian teachers than native Christian scholars. These must come from our schools after long years of training. Owing to a lack of early moral training among them,--the want of a foundation,--the words of Paul on this subject have appeared to me to have a striking significance, more so than among whites, although they are true even among them: “Not a novice, lest being lifted up with pride he fall into the condemnation of the devil.”

All people are tempted to be proud, but owing to this lack of foundation, Indians are peculiarly so. A little knowledge puffeth up, and, to use a common expression, they soon get the “big-head.” That spoils them for the ministry. My first hope of this kind was that John Palmer would turn his attention to the subject, but he had a family before I knew him, and I never could induce him to look much in that direction. In the spring of 1882 two young men who had been in school from childhood took hold well. They began to talk with the Indians, to assist me in holding meetings, and to take charge of them in my absence. I felt that they were too young,--less than twenty-one,--and yet at times I could see no other way to do; but I had reason to fear that both felt proud of their position. During the next summer one of them, in getting married, fell so low that we had to suspend him from the church for almost a year, and the other for a time went slowly backward. Both have come up again considerably, and the latter has done quite well for the last year in holding lay-meetings. I pray “the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth laborers into his harvest.”

As to the support of the ministry, I always felt a delicacy in speaking of the subject, because I was the minister. For several years, as long as very few of the older Indians were members of the church, and the ones who were members were scholars without money, it was difficult to say much. As soon as some of the school-boys were put to work as apprentices, I broached the subject to them, talked about it, and gave them something to read on it. While they were apprentices and employees most of them gave fairly. The agent urged them to do so, but compelled none, and a few refused entirely. But when they left the government employ and the agent moved away, they stopped doing what they had never liked to do.

The older Indians, when they did come into the church, were hardly prepared for it. The Catholic set said that if the people joined them they would have nothing to pay. One of the Catholics told me that the only reason why I wanted to get him into the church was to obtain his money. It had been revealed to them that it was wrong to sell God’s truth. These arguments, somewhat similar to those used years ago by some of the more ignorant people in the Southern and Western States, coupled with the natural love of money, has made it very difficult to induce even the members of the church to contribute for the support of their pastor. One of them once almost found fault with me for taking the money contributed at a collection by whites at Seabeck, where I often preached, and he thought I ought not to do so.

The Indians at Jamestown have done somewhat differently. In their region, when there has been preaching by the whites, generally a collection is taken. Noticing this, of their own accord, in 1882 when I went to them, they passed around the hat and took up a collection of three dollars and forty-five cents, and they have sometimes done so since.

XLI.

TOBACCO.

The use of tobacco is not as excessive among the Twanas as among many Indians--not as much so as among the Clallams. Seldom is one seen smoking or chewing, though a large share of the Indians use it a little. Yet not much of a direct war has been waged against it. There have been so many greater evils against which it seemed necessary to contend that I hardly thought it wise to speak much in public against it. Still a quiet influence has been exerted against it. The agent never uses it, and very few of the employees have done so. This example has done something.

The following incident shows the ideas some of them have obtained. About 1876 the school-teacher heard something going on in the boys’ room. He quietly went to the key-hole and listened to see if any mischief were brewing. The result was different from what he had feared. The boys were holding a court. They had their judge and jury, witnesses and lawyers. The culprit was charged with the crime of being drunk. After the prosecution had rested the case, the criminal arose and said about as follows: “May it please your honor, I am a poor man and not able to pay a lawyer, so I shall have to defend myself. There is a little mistake about this case. My name is Captain Chase [a white man of the region]. I came to church on Sunday; the minister did not know me. I was well dressed, and the minister mistook me for another minister. So when he was done, he asked me to say a few words to the Indians. I was in a fix, for I had a large quid of tobacco in my mouth. I tried to excuse myself, but the minister would not take no for an answer. So at last I quietly and secretly took out the tobacco from my mouth [suiting his words with a very apt illustration of how it was done], threw it behind the seat, and went up on the platform to speak. But I was not sharp enough for the Indians. Some of them saw me throw it away, _and they thought a minister had no business with tobacco_, and that is why I am here; besides I was a little tipsy.” I have enjoyed telling this story to one or two tobacco-using ministers.

Somewhat later a rather wild boy wrote me, asking me to allow him to enter the praying band of Indian boys. He promised to give up his bad habits; and among others he mentioned the use of tobacco, which he said he would abandon.

Within the past year a number of the older Indians have abandoned its use. I have a cigar which was given me by one man. He said that when he determined to stop its use, he had a small piece of tobacco and two cigars, and that for months afterward they lay in his house where they were at that time, and he gave me one of them. Most of those who stopped using it belonged to the shaking set. It was one of the few good things which resulted from that strange affair. But they have been earnestly encouraged to continue as they have begun in this respect.

A white man who has an Indian woman for a wife told me the following. For years both he and his wife used tobacco, himself both chewing and smoking. When she professed to become a Christian, she gave up her tobacco and tried to induce him to do the same, and at last he did so far yield as to stop smoking; but he continued to chew. All her talk did not stop him. But he saw that when he had spit on the floor and stove, she would get a paper or rag and wipe it up, and hence he grew ashamed and stopped chewing in the house, using only a little--when he told me--in the woods when at work.

XLII.

SPICE.

An experience which is not very pleasant comes from the vermin, especially the fleas--not a refined word; but the most refined society gets accustomed to it here because they _have to do so_, and the more so the nearer they get to the native land of these animals--the Indians. I stood one evening and preached in one of their houses when I am satisfied that I scratched every half-minute during the service; for, although I stood them as long as I could, I could not help it. I would quietly take up one foot and rub it against the other, put my hand behind my back or in my pocket, and treat the creatures as gently as I could, and the like, so as not to attract any more attention than possible.

But then Indian houses are not their only dwellings. At one place I once stayed at a white man’s house, who was as kind as he knew how to be: but backing for twenty years with very few neighbors except Indians is not very elevating; it is one of the trials of the hardy frontiersman. I tried to go to sleep--one bit; I kicked--he stopped; I shut my eyes--another wanted his supper; I scratched; and so we kept up the interminable warfare until three o’clock, when sleep conquered for two hours. The next day, on the strength of it, I preached twice, held a council, tramped five miles, and talked the rest of the time. That night mine host, having suspected something, proposed that we take our blankets and go to the barn. I was willing, and we all slept soundly; but the hay was a year old, and in that region sometimes innumerable small hay-lice get on it--a fact of which I was not aware. They did not trouble us during the night; but when we arose the next morning our clothes, which had lain on the hay, were covered with thousands of them. Every seam, torn place, button-hole, and turned-over place was crowded with the lilliputians. It took me three quarters of an hour to brush them from my clothes. However, it did not hurt the clothes or me. My better two-thirds would have said that they needed brushing.

Twice while traveling to Jamestown have I been obliged, when within twenty miles of the place, to stop all day Saturday because of heavy head-winds, when I was exceedingly anxious to be at Jamestown over the Sabbath. That day was consequently spent not where I wished to be. It seemed to me to be a strange Providence; but I have since been inclined to believe that my example in not traveling on the Sabbath, when the Indians knew how anxious I was to reach the place, was worth more than the sermons I would have preached.

The following appeared in _The Child’s Paper_ in January, 1878:--

“In the school on the Indian reservation where I live twenty-five or thirty Indian children are taught the English language. At one time a new boy came who knew how to talk our language somewhat but not very well. Soon after he came he was at work with the other boys and the teacher, when, in pronouncing one English word, he did not pronounce it aright. He was corrected but still did not say it right. Again he was told how, but still it seemed as if his tongue were too thick; and again, but he did not get the right twist to it. At last one of the scholars thought that he was doing it only for fun and that he could pronounce it correctly if he only would do so, so he said: ‘O boys, it is not because his tongue is crooked but because his ears are crooked!’”

Query: Are there not some others who have crooked ears?

What does Paul say? “Five times received I forty stripes save one.” Well, I have never been treated so, for the people are as kind as can be. “Shipwrecked”? No, only cast twice on the beach by winds from a canoe. “A night and a day in the deep”? No, only a whole night and a part of several others on the mud-flats, waiting for the tide to come. No danger of drowning there. So I have determined to take more of such spice if it shall come.

XLIII.

CURRANT JELLY.

There is, however, another side to the picture, more like currant jelly. The people generally are as kind as they can be. “We will give you the best we have,” is what is often told me, and they do it. Here is a house near Jamestown, where I have stopped a week at a time, or nearly that, once in six months for about six years, and the people will take nothing for it. For seventy-five miles west of Dunginess is a region where a man’s company is supposed to pay for his lodgings at any house. I meet a man, who offers to go home, a half a mile, and get me a dinner, if I will only accept it. A girl, with whose family I was only slightly acquainted, stood on the porch one day as I passed, and said: “Mister, have you been to dinner? You had better stop and have some.” A hotel-keeper, who had sold whiskey for fifteen years, put me in his best room, one which he had fitted up for his own private use, and then would take nothing for it. The Superintendent of the Seabeck Mills, Mr. R. Holyoke, invited me to go to his house whenever I was in the place, and would never take any thing for it. It amounted to about four weeks’ time each year for five or six years, and yet he would hardly allow me to thank him. Others, too, at the same place, have been very kind. The steamer _St. Patrick_ for two years and a half always carried myself and family free, whenever we wished to travel on it, and during that time it gave us sixty or seventy-five dollars’ worth of fare. Captain J. G. Baker, of the _Colfax_, said to me, six or seven years ago: “Whenever you or your family, or an Indian whom you have with you to carry you, wish to travel where I am going, I will take you free.” He has often done it, sometimes making extra effort with his steamer in order to accommodate me. The steamers _Gem_ and _McNaught_ also made a rule to charge me no fare when I traveled on them.

Indians, too, are not wholly devoid of gratitude. It is the time of a funeral. They are often accustomed at such times to make presents to their friends who attend and sympathize with them. “Take this money,” they have often said to me at such times, as they have given me from one to three dollars. “Do not refuse--it is our custom; for you have come to comfort us with Christ’s words.” At a great festival, where I was present to protect them from drunkenness, and other evils equally bad, they handed me seven dollars and a half, saying, “You have come a long distance to help us; we can not give you food as we do these Indians, as you do not eat with us; take this money, it will help to pay your board.” But when I offered to pay the gentleman with whom I was staying, Mr. B. G. Hotchkiss, he too would take nothing for the board. The good people of the Pearl Street Church in Hartford, Connecticut, sent us a barrel of things in the early spring of 1883, whose money value I estimated at considerably over a hundred dollars, and whose good cheer was inestimable in money, because it came when our days were the darkest.

God has been very good to put it into the hearts of so many people to be so kind, and not the least good thing that he has done is that he has put that verse in the Bible about the giving a cup of cold water and the reward that will follow.

XLIV.

CONCLUSION.

Dr. H. J. Minthorne, superintendent of the Indian Training School at Forest Grove, Oregon, once remarked to me, “that, in the civilization of Indians, they often went forward and then backward; but that each time they went backward it was not quite so far as the previous time, and that each time they went forward it was an advance on any previous effort.” I have found the same to be true. They seem to rise much as the tide does when the waves are rolling--a surge upward and then back; but careful observation shows that the tide is rising.

There is much of human nature in them. In many respects--as in their habits of neatness and industry, their visions, superstitions, and the like--I have often been reminded of what I have read about ignorant whites in the Southern and Western States fifty years ago, and of what I have seen among the same class of people in Oregon thirty years ago.

Soon after I came here, an old missionary said to me: “Keep on with the work; the fruits of Christian labor among the Indians have been as great or greater than among the whites.” I have found it to be in some measure true. Something has, I trust, been done; but the Bible and experience both agree in saying that “God has done it all.” I sometimes think I have learned a little of the meaning of the verse, “Without me ye can do nothing,” and I would also record that I have proved the truth of that other one, “I am with you alway,"--for the work has paid.

I went to Boise City, in Idaho, in 1871, with the intention of staying indefinitely, perhaps a lifetime, but Providence indicated plainly that I ought to leave in two and a half years. When I came here, it was only with the intention of remaining two or three months on a visit. The same Providence has kept me here ten years and I am now satisfied that his plans were far wiser than mine. So “man proposes and God disposes.” The Christians’ future and the Indians’ future are wisely in the same hands.

THE END

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Among the Alaskans, pp. 271, 272.

[2] It was not at that time, at this place.

[3] Added to the Jamestown Church, and inserted here to give a view of the whole work.