Part 4

First comes the article itself; we have been furnishing them with it to make wholesome bread. Their Indian way of preparing flour, is to fry soggy dough in a panful of grease over a fire made of sticks in the centre of the lodge. Any one who goes back with longing memories to the old days of open fireplace cookery, may enjoy it to his heart’s content without the least contamination with modern conveniences in, a Ree or Gros Ventres or Mandan earth-covered lodge in this place, a journey of only two or three days by railroad and steamboat from Minneapolis. The Indians, however, take kindly to cooking-stoves when our “Uncle” furnishes them; and we are trying, as the first requisite of household health, to teach them to make good bread. Our first step was to create a desire for it, by giving them good bread. But the preference for “white man’s bread” has been created, and the cry for yeast to make it has been daily heard at our door this summer. Lately, we have said, “no more yeast,” but “go and pick hops, and we will teach you how to make yeast”; and specimens of gathered hops are exhibited. It is a great gain to have the people eating wholesome food, for the want of which, in their changed condition of life, and the absence of the former abundance of game, they are dying off. It is greater gain to have them beginning in any way to make home more comfortable, attractive, decent; to have the women improving in cooking, and tidiness of home management; the men drawn to an interest in building better houses; the family to have an ambition for doors and windows and bedsteads, and cups and saucers and tables, and cupboards made of old boxes with calico curtains. But chiefly is it gain to get through such work the confidence and the hearts of the people, that we may lead them to Christ; and if yeast will set the leaven at work by which we may leaven the whole lump, we say, _Amen_!

Flowers.

We have not limited ourselves to yeast. On Friday afternoons we have given the children who attended regularly, a good meal at a table, with all the accessories of a Christian board, including grace. Other little means of attracting the people to higher things have been beautiful clusters of scarlet blossoms, blooming all the season on the fence, and handsome dahlias and zinnias and four o’clocks, by the house. Groups of little Indians stand open-mouthed before them, or some old woman, with her willow-basket full of corn or squashes on her back, is attracted and cheered by these beauties—gifts of God’s love. That they do notice the flowers at all is a hopeful sign. Early in the spring, I picked a bluebell, and spoke of its beauty to an Indian man who was helping me set fence posts. He said, with a scornful expression at my ignorance: “That isn’t anything, it isn’t good to eat.”

Farming.

Then they study our garden, with its variety of different vegetables and roots, and its young trees. They are doing well at agriculture—better than most Indians in the territory of Dakota. This year their crops of corn, potatoes, squashes and beans are large and fine; but they raise nothing else; and they have not learned to care for stock, to milk, to make butter, and grow feed for cattle. They do not put up hay for their ponies, but let them grow poor during the winter, on such dried grass, and corn-stalks, and cotton-wood bark as they can pick up on the prairie or the bottoms by the Missouri. They are not of much value in harness, but are one with their rider, and endure fatigue and hunger with him marvellously. They think I ought to keep a horse. I tell them my cow gives milk and butter, and their horses don’t. So they look on at our methods of life, and see their superiority; and gradually want to copy them.

Death.

We have striven to open the way for the Gospel by sympathy with, and help for, the sick and dying. One young man among the Mandans died last year as I stood beside him. Before he grew unconscious, he had said to his friend that the white people were coming for him, and he was going. Perhaps some revelation of heaven and God’s love came to him in that shape. There was a woman once who touched only the hem of a garment. There is One who does not quench the smoking flax. Another poor consumptive died this spring, telling her people not to believe what bad Indians said about our malign influences; that we were good; that if she got well she would come to church; that father and mother must not grieve for her, but, if they felt sad, go to us to be comforted. God has been teaching us how to comfort bereaved parents and friends by taking away our own baby, Harry, to the home over there. An atmosphere of sorrow is about all our Dakota mission-stations. Mrs. Thomas Riggs has been suddenly taken from a useful, active life, near Fort Sully, D. T., and lies buried on her field of work; and Mrs. Renville is taken from the Flandreau people, and Miss Williamson from the Yankton people. But “sorrow is the atmosphere that ripens hearts for heaven,” and, ripe for heaven, they are best for earthly usefulness also.

Conversions.

The white employés and white men living among the Indians were all interested this spring, and we hope there were several conversions and much good influence at work. One young man, born of missionary parents in the South Seas, who had wandered here from England and from the Lord, we trust has gone back home to live a better life. One man, with a half-breed family, said: “The white people have been teaching the Indians better ways of living; then you have had school, a good school, and now we are going to have church and religion, and do better.” God grant it, but we have to sow and wait, and wait. Our seasons are short, our spiritual zone northern. Yet God will conquer!

From Devil’s Lake three or four days’ hard travel across the prairies to the north-east, there came a word of cheer in the early summer. Some, especially one man who had been under missionary influence in the Southern part of our Territory, but apparently cared for none of these things, came to see us, and to sympathize with us in our loss (he had lost children), and to get what help he could from us in understanding his Bible, and teaching his friends to read. He went away with the urgent request that we come to Devil’s Lake and preach to them.

Devil’s Lake is a Roman Catholic agency, and they do not preach to them in their own tongue. One thing is certain: if the sons are to talk English to us, we must preach in the Indian tongue to the fathers.

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LAKE SUPERIOR AGENCY.

I. L. MAHAN, AGENT, BAYFIELD, WIS.

A Merciful Man, etc.

I am glad to report the following, as one of quite a number of instances that have come within my own knowledge. Last fall, in obedience to the request of twelve of my Indians, I estimated for twelve cows and calves, but received only eight. In consequence of this failure, four of my people were disappointed, after having harvested, at their own expense, a sufficient amount of food to supply the cattle during the winter (by no means an easy undertaking for an Indian). The disappointed ones, however, took the ill luck philosophically, and made the best of the disappointment. They earnestly besought me to try again, and, if possible, get the cows and calves. I did try, and secured each of the four a good cow and calf, for which they each worked upon their own 80s in clearing, etc., under the direction of the Government farmer, thirty-eight days, and received each a cow and calf, and drove them to their houses. A few weeks after, a report came to me that Henry Buffalo was sadly neglecting his cow and calf; that he had secured each to a stake, driven in the ground for the purpose, and had taken his family on a visit to an adjoining settlement, a few miles away, leaving the cow and calf without food to eat or water to drink for days at a time. This, to me, seemed terrible treatment, and I set myself about an investigation, and found that, upon the occasion above referred to, the Indians in the vicinity had all gone to attend church service some miles distant, they having word of the coming of a favorite priest. Friends had advised the stake arrangement—the fences not being considered strong—and made preparations for Henry, in order to induce him to go. He started, but looking back, took pity upon the dumb brute, and returned and remained at home all day, feeding and watering his cow and calf, and using an evergreen brush to keep the flies off. The report was founded upon the fact that his house was locked up. Such care and sympathy is worthy of reward.

An Industrious Builder.

The other day an Indian applied to me for lumber and nails to finish his barn, that he might have a floor to thresh his grain upon. The lumber and nails were furnished him, and, on inquiry, I learned that he had stripped a sufficient number of cedar trees of bark to cover his barn; and not having horses or cattle, had transported it in a small boat, upon the lake, to the nearest point toward his house, and then packed it upon his back one and a half miles. Do you say such zealous and fatiguing labor does not deserve its reward?

Smart Surveying.

The Lac Courte D’Oreille reservation is located in the north-west corner of Chippewa county, near the intersection of Ashland and Burnett counties. It was selected, undoubtedly, for the timber, although some very fine farming-land has been found. The Indians made choice of this region of country on account of the very fine groves of sugar-maple and the large number of inland lakes; but the white man, who defines the boundaries, took occasion to so run the lines that the most of the maple-groves and many of the lakes are left out, and the Indians have a reservation running from south-west to north-west about thirty miles, and from north-west to south-east but about three or four miles. Upon this reservation we have made 160 allotments of eighty acres to individuals, and many good farms have been opened without very much encouragement from the Department, as the Indians long for their patents, as in the case of Red Cliff and Bad River. In passing up the Lac Courte D’Oreille River, I found five new log-houses, and, in one case, about ten acres cleared, and all planted. There are perhaps twenty or twenty-five other houses, that have been built by Indians without any individual aid from Government. They have improved the roads across the reservation. They have some stock, but are sadly in need of more.

No Civilizing Measures.

Belonging to the Lac du Flambeau reserve are 542 Indians, who live almost entirely by trapping, hunting and fishing. They are rovers in every sense of the word, having no houses or permanent homes, save the starry-decked heavens. They are visited each year by the Agent; and such goods and supplies as the Department furnishes are distributed to them as presents. The appropriations are not large enough to supply employés; therefore, no civilizing measures have been introduced here. Five thousand dollars a year, judiciously expended for labor, in building houses, clearing land, and supplying cattle to these Indians, would, in a very short period, place them beyond want; while the present policy—of leaving them to their own inclinations—will make a class of miserable paupers, without knowledge or disposition to be anything else; and the State will sooner or later be called upon to step in between the Indians and the general Government, and exercise some of its Christian charities. These Indians must be aided, or they are lost beyond redemption.

A Farmer on a Rock.

The Bois Forte bands, numbering 797 Indians, have a reservation of 107,509 acres, lying in unsurveyed territory, about forty miles north-west of Vermillion Lake, in Minnesota. They have mingled with the whites but little; therefore have but few of their vices. They roam, fish, hunt and trap for a livelihood. They dress in civilized costumes, and a few of them sow and plant and harvest, live in houses, and have some of the ordinary home comforts; but they are few indeed. They have been banished to perhaps the most wretched of all lands, or rock, in North Minnesota. Their treaty stipulates that a farmer shall be provided. A farmer! Think of it—on such a rock! The explorers report not a spot upon which to plant a potato. There is not a road within forty miles of the reservation. The treaty is rapidly passing away—half gone; soon they will have nothing left. We would most earnestly renew our recommendation of last year, that about 1,000 acres of land on the south side of Vermillion Lake, be set aside for agricultural and educational purposes, and that the Bois Forte Indians be induced to select homes and settle thereon; that the boundary be defined, and that the employés be permanently located.

Schools.

Our schools have been well attended. Books for more advanced scholarship have been a constant demand, and the statistics from teachers and farmers show a gradual improvement. The free-lunch system at Red Cliff and Bad River has been continued all year, and is, without doubt, the most successful medium through which to reach poor and hungry children.

The Wisconsin Scare,

as it is called, might have reached immense proportions had not the officers of the Indian Bureau taken a firm stand against the possibility of such a thing as an Indian outbreak among the Chippewas. The Chippewas have grievances that would make white men tear their hair and howl from one end of the country to the other; but they prefer to submit quietly and peaceably to the powers that be, praying without ceasing, hoping continually that the good men of the Great Father’s household will yet hear and answer their petitions by the necessary legislations.

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RED LAKE AGENCY, MINNESOTA.

School, Church, Farm, Mill, etc.

C. P. ALLEN, M. D.

This reservation embraces about 3,200,000 acres of land, of which one-third is supposed to be tillable; two-thirds wooded, grazing and worthless.

Perhaps the most gratifying feature of the work here is the successful opening of a fully equipped boarding-school in November last. Ten boys and as many girls were taken, clothed and fed; the girls were taught to wash, mend, knit, cook, keep house; and the boys were taught to cut and prepare fuel, to plow, plant, grub, do fence and farm work. In addition to the twenty boarding pupils, there were some twenty day-scholars, so that the present capacity of the school is filled. The results are very gratifying.

The missionary work has been under the auspices of the Protestant Episcopal Mission, who sent last year two native clergymen to labor here; one died in September, 1877. This year, three others have been sent to labor here and across the Lake, where no missionary work has been done, and where the Indians oppose any work of the kind. A church edifice is in process of building, to be completed by December 1st.

Progress is seen in the extent of land in cultivation, in largely increased crops, in fencing made, better dwellings, more stoves, tables, chairs, crockery, better clothing, greater cleanliness, more wash-boards and wash-tubs in use, more comfortable homes; more stock each year; a growing desire to have their children educated; more knitting and sewing done than formerly. Owing to a general lack of snow and water, less has been accomplished this season than usual in the way of building houses, as we had little lumber to build with, although logs were cut, preparatory to driving to mill, to the amount of over 100,000 feet.

Arrangements are about completed for putting in here a substantial little flour-mill this fall, to convert their wheat into nice flour. This will prove a great incentive to increased labor in clearing up land and raising more wheat. This again, will conduce to improved health, as much of their sickness arises from insufficient food, and that of poor quality.

During the last year a new source of revenue has been developed, which is _Senega root_. Of this, they have dug nearly $4,000 worth, and the supply is not exhausted.

This tribe is not decreasing in number, the births fully equaling the deaths. What we need is to cultivate _individuality_; to treat the Indians as men and women, not as parts of a tribe; to allot lands in severalty, giving them titles to their homes.

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THE CHINESE.

“CALIFORNIA CHINESE MISSION.”

Auxiliary to the American Missionary Association.

PRESIDENT: Rev. J. K. McLean, D. D. VICE-PRESIDENTS: Rev. A. L. Stone, D. D., Thomas O. Wedderspoon, Esq., Rev. T. K. Noble, Hon. F. F. Low, Rev. I. E. Dwinell, D. D., Hon. Samuel Cross, Rev. S. H. Wiley, D. D., Edward P. Flint, Esq., Rev. J. W. Hough, D. D., Jacob S. Taber, Esq.

DIRECTORS: Rev. George Moor, D. D., Hon. E. D. Sawyer, Rev. W. E. Ijams, James M. Haven, Esq., Rev. Joseph Rowell, E. P. Sanford, Esq., H. W. Severance, Esq.

SECRETARY: Rev. W. C. Pond. TREASURER: E. Palache, Esq.

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In place of our usual communication from Superintendent Pond, which he has not been able to send us, on account of special pressure in his work, we reprint from a California paper the following article by Rev. Dr. M. C. Briggs, one of the leading men in the Methodist Episcopal denomination in California. It embodies very important truth in a most sprightly and incisive style.—[ED’S AM. MISS.]

CHINAPHOBIA.

“Bring me to the test, and I the matter will re-word that madness gambols at.” This sentence from Shakspeare (I hope it is correctly quoted) is the sole partition between our Assemblymen and a charge of confirmed monomania. All roads lead to Paris, and all subjects of discussion lead these astute Solons to John Chinaman. To assert your philanthropy, curse the Chinese. To prove your patriotism, denounce the Chinese. To abate land monopoly, abuse the Chinese. To eradicate the social evil, grow furious over the Chinese. To regulate finances, tax the Chinese. To quell incendiary mobs, displace the Chinese, and put ruffians in their stead. To pass the Bland bill, expel the Chinese. To effect resumption, crucify the Chinese. To ensure commercial prosperity, exclude forever the Chinese. To show your faith in the Declaration of Independence, levy a high tariff on the bones of the Chinese. To reclaim our swamp lands, howl at the Chinese. To encourage citizens to furnish free meals for white tramps, who refuse to work at any price, drive out from our kitchens the Chinese, who to-day receive higher wages than white men and women are getting in any State east of the Rocky Mountains. To show yourself a hero, hurl brickbats at the Chinese. From whatever point of the political or moral compass these broad and eloquent men set out, they are sure to end with a stereotyped spasm on the stereotyped topic—the infernal Chinese. Such untiring repetitiousness grows stale, and one almost wishes that the “nigger” or the Hottentot, or any human being without a vote, would appear on the political tapis, to offer leather-lunged demagogueism a chance for variety, and the weary ears of the people a rest. Nasby’s patent question, “If the nigger is set free, whom will the Democrats find to look down on?” has been answered to the glory and delectation of both the old parties, and, pre-eminently, of the new party, which has nothing American about it save whisky and brag.

The republic is sick. It has gastric fever, gout, goitre, gangrene, scrofula, sciatica, croup, consumption, ophthalmia, vertigo, small-pox, and cholera. It has eaten too much, drank too much, danced too much, flirted too much, smoked too much, gambled too much, run riot in frivolity, gone mad in greed, flaunted its pageantry of pride, coveted, lusted, blasphemed, forsaken God, despised religion, loved leasing, and hated honest toil, with its health-giving frugality and slow but solid gains. Poor patient! It needs skilful treatment; and what will these queer doctors do? Why, they propose to force emetics and drastics down the throats of ever so many Chinamen. If the case were not so serious, it would be infinitely funny. The patient has brain fever. Kick the Chinaman. It has palpitation. Cuff the Chinaman. It is shaking with chills from Maine to Mexico. Pull the pigtails of the Chinaman. Banks are breaking in New York. Set the dogs on the Chinamen. Mercantile houses are tumbling into ruins in Massachusetts. Arrest the Chinaman on suspicion. Finances are deranged, and Congress is quarreling over resumption. Shoot the Chinamen. The South needs pacification. Cut the throats of the Chinamen. Industry flags everywhere. Get up processions, and raid on the wash-houses of the Chinamen. Wages are six bits a day, without board, in the Eastern States. Banish the Chinamen from California forever and forever. Hurrah!!

There was once a doctor who was “death on burns.” These gentlemen are not a whit behind him, only their specialty, into which they resolve all wounds and diseases, is the Chinese pest, _alias_ the Asiatic nuisance, _alias_ the Cooly invasion, _alias_ the cheap-labor plague of the Pacific Coast.

What repose it gives a State to have wise and just men at the helm of affairs! This epidemic rage—as unstatesmanlike as it is unphilanthropic—so prevalent in the halls of legislation just now, merits the sarcasm of a Lord Brougham. Yet I accord to our Representatives a fair measure of good intentions. The Chinese have no votes, and are not patrons of the press; therefore, it is safe to denounce them. Besides, just now it promises to be a paying as well as a perilless pastime. The rioters have ballots in their hands. “Pathric” counts one (sometimes two or ten) at the polls; and who will defend John? “Pathric” does not care to remember that he was threatened with expulsion on similar grounds, and with equally cogent reasons, in the bygone. It will be well for him to recall the fact; for when once the principle of discrimination is incorporated into the policy of the nation, the bolt that hits John to-day may chance to strike some one else to-morrow. When caste and caprice usurp the place of justice and humanity, every man will thenceforth hold life, liberty and property by sufferance of the mob. It is natural to the weak side of public men, to court the voters’ favor. Not many politicians are tall enough to look over the heads of stump orators and bannered agitators. Has the good God no taller men to send us for these agitated times?

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THE CHILDREN’S PAGE.

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AN OLD-TIME PRAYER MEETING.