Part 2

Hermine died on Thursday, and the funeral was on Saturday afternoon, when a little child was also buried. The first part of the service was in the church. Then the congregation reassembled just outside, the men by themselves and the women apart. The larger coffin was borne on the shoulders of six men, the little one was carried by two. The whole congregation appeared to be the mourners, nor was poor Wilhadus well enough to follow his wife's remains to their last resting-place. After singing a verse in front of the church, the procession moved slowly onward to the burial ground, where Mr. Kaestner read the litany, and the responses and singing were beautifully reverent. At his signal the coffins were lowered into the graves, and he spoke the concluding blessing at each.

I was present at a marriage service last Sunday. The young bridegroom and bride sat together on two stools in the middle of the church. They were simply and plainly dressed in clean white "sillapaks," _i.e._, light calico tunics edged with broad braid, mostly red. The woman's was rather more ornamental than the man's, and had a longer tail hanging over her skirts. She had a ring on one finger, but that played no part in the ceremony. In his opening address the minister named the pair. William Tuktusna comes from the South, and possesses both Christian name and surname, which is unusual for an Eskimo. The woman is called Amalie. Both replied with a clear "Ahaila" (yes) to the usual questions of the marriage service. They then gave the hand to one another, and, kneeling down, a prayer and the Old Testament blessing confirmed the solemn contract, into which they had entered before God. As usual the congregation sang the response, "Jêsum akkâne, Amen." (In the name of Jesus, Amen).

Amalie cried a little during the ceremony, and more as she followed her husband out of the church, but the heathen custom of feigning sorrow on such an occasion is dying out. At first she refused William's offer, made through their missionary, but afterwards she thought better of it. May the Lord give them a happy and holy union of heart and life!

THREE NATIVE HELPERS.

I had a visit this afternoon from the three "native-helpers" here at Hopedale. They came to interview the angajokak from London (anga-yo-kâk = chief or elder) and their pastor kindly interpreted. I am pleased to know these worthy men. They are true Eskimoes in modes of thought and expression, and they are true servants of God, faithfully serving this congregation of their countrymen in many ways. Among the duties of their office are, visiting the sick, admonishing the negligent, settling disputes, and affectionately exhorting those who are under Church discipline. They are also chapel-servants, and evidently glad to be door-keepers in the house of their God. At the fishing or hunting places they often hold services, and sometimes they preside at the meetings at Hopedale. At the celebration of the recent centenary each of the three delivered a powerful address.

Let me introduce them to my readers.

The first and oldest is JOSHUA, a decided Christian of many years' standing. His wife Bertha is also a chapel-servant, a real mother in the congregation, and a true helpmeet to her husband. They are a thrifty, diligent, much respected couple, whose influence and example is blessed to those around them. Next February 4th they will, D.V., celebrate their golden wedding, an event unknown as yet in Labrador. Though Joshua cannot read, he frequently addresses the congregation with power, suitability, spirituality, and some originality. In his public prayers he almost invariably adds a petition "for our Queen Victoria; because she is only a woman." On one occasion he said to his countrymen: "Those of you who can read know that it says, they shall come from the East and the West, and the North and the South, and shall sit down in the kingdom, but the children of the kingdom shall be cast out. Our fathers were heathen, but we are children of the kingdom. If _we_ fail of the grace of God, we shall not only be cast into hell, but into outer, _outer_, OUTER darkness." It made a great impression on them. At another time he drew a comparison between the Israelites, who entered Canaan with Joshua, and the spiritual Israelites, who with Jesus shall enter on the millennium.

The second is DANIEL, a gifted man with a humble spirit and considerable missionary zeal. Year by year, as Epiphany, "the Heathen Festival," comes round, he has sleepless nights of deep sorrow in his heart for those who know not Jesus, the Salvation of God. Twenty years ago, stirred by the example of John King, the bush-negro evangelist in Surinam, Daniel went in his own boat to his heathen countrymen in the far north of Labrador. He found a companion of like sentiment in Gottlob of Hebron, who afterwards rendered such excellent service at Ramah. More recently Daniel induced Titus of Hopedale to accompany him on a winter journey to some of the European settlers and half-breeds in the neighbourhood of that station. When they arrived at the log-house of one or another of these dwellers in the remote bays, Daniel at once told their errand with as much humility as earnestness. Their simple testimony of the Saviour from sin was well received. When they returned to Hopedale Daniel had a great deal to tell the missionaries of the utterances of his companion, but very little to remark about his own sayings and doings. He frequently accompanies his missionaries on their evangelistic or pastoral journeys not only as driver of the dog-sledge, but as helper of their spiritual work.

The third of my visitors is the above mentioned TITUS, also a man of ripe years and Christian experience. The way in which his zeal and spirit of service supplement the gifts of his friend Daniel is a striking illustration of the Spirit's dividing to every man severally as He wills. Daniel is a man of quick perceptions, Titus of prompt action. The two may be walking together and talking of the spiritual welfare of the congregation so much upon their hearts and prayers. Daniel mentions some matter which he fears is displeasing in God's sight. "Yes, yes, that is so," says Titus; "I had not perceived it, but you are right. We must testify against that." And testify he does, on the first opportunity, with such vigour that the abuse is rebuked and stopped, yet with such tact that none can be offended at his faithful outspokenness.

For some years Titus has served as assistant schoolmaster, and like his friend Daniel he takes part in the music of the sanctuary, having a good bass voice. Daniel sings tenor in the choir, or plays the violoncello.

A COMMUNION AND FESTIVAL SUNDAY AT HOPEDALE.

_Sunday, August 12th_.--To-day the festival of the thirteenth of August, the spiritual birthday of the renewed Brethren's Unity, has been celebrated in this far northern congregation, incorporated in the one bond with those in Germany, England, America, and our various mission-fields scattered thousands of miles apart over the surface of the globe.

In the early morning the congregation band played suitable chorales in good time and tune, and the solemn strains were well adapted to prepare hearts and feelings for the spiritual privileges of the day.

At nine o'clock Daniel kept the morning blessing. Picture the neat clean, church, simple and suitable for the worship of an Eskimo congregation. Behind the table sits the worthy native-helper. To his right hand the missionaries face the men and boys; to his left are the missionaries' wives, and opposite them a more numerous company of women and girls. The benches are without backs. The little organ is played by Ludolf, an Eskimo, well and devotionally, and the singing is further accompanied by other musicians with one clarionet, five violins, and a violoncello. The choice of tunes is such as would puzzle most congregations in England. The people are very devout in their demeanour and sing well. Their faces are mostly brown, with high cheek bones, but on the whole they are much lighter in complexion than photographs had led me to conclude.

Daniel did his part reverently and simply, for, as he had told me before by word and gesture, God has made the heart and the mouth. His long and earnest prayer, spoken extempore in his own language, was evidently well prepared, and thoroughly suitable to the occasion. He asked the Lord to be among us with His blessings, His faithfulness, and His mercies. He continued: "O Saviour, Thou hast all fulness; Thou wast able and willing to bless the brethren at Herrnhut a hundred and fifty years ago, bless us now. True, we are worse and much lower than they were, but Thou canst do it. Bless us to-day. We are very bad, but Thou wilt bless those among us who believe. As to those who do not believe, bless them too, and, if possible, let them be partakers of Thy salvation.

"We think of our teachers, those who have come to us and those who are about to leave us by the 'Harmony.' O bless them for their works' sake. We do not always obey them as we ought. Help us to be more obedient. Lord, do these things for us, and though we are not able to praise Thee sufficiently here on earth, we will praise Thee in heaven for ever."

The next service was commenced with a choir piece, when the organ and other instruments accompanied seven singers, four women and three men. The women especially had voices of power and compass. Alto, tenor, and bass were fairly sustained, as well as soprano, and the whole effect was good. The piece, which was not easy, but suitable in liturgical character, was well rendered both in forte and piano passages. This time Ambrose, another native, presided at the organ, and Ludolf played the first violin.

Mr. Kaestner's sermon on 1 John iii. 1 was followed by a baptism, in Labrador suitably the closing part of the public service. The congregation as ever take up the long responses well and devotionally, and in this service the children repeat portions of Scripture (1 Pet. iii. 21, Tit. iii. 5, and Matt. xix. 14). These were spoken distinctly and simultaneously by the boys and girls. The infant having been brought up to the table by the parents, the minister baptized it with the formula Susannah, Jesusib tokkun-ganut baptipagit Atatab, Ernerublo, Anernerublo ajunginerub attinganut. (Susannah, into the death of Jesus I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.)

I took the English service at three o'clock. Soon after we again assembled in the church, for the Eskimo choir had sent a deputation to request that they might sing some more of their pieces for us. The programme of their really excellent performance included such pieces as Hosanna, Christians Awake, Stille Nacht, Morgernstern (Morning Star), and an anthem (Ps. 96) containing effective duets for tenor and alto. When they had finished I spoke a few words of thanks and farewell, and then Mr. Dam bade good-bye to the people he had loved and served for ten years. They were much moved at the thought of parting with their faithful pastor and his wife.

Shall I ever forget that communion at seven? I felt it a great privilege to partake of the Lord's Supper with my brethren and sisters in Labrador. How much He has done for these dear missionaries, simple earnest Christians, experienced in the things of God, men and women of mighty faith, who do "move mountains." How much hath God wrought for these dear Eskimo Christians, who sit down at His table with beautiful reverence and real appreciation of this act of faith.

The benches not needed for the communicant congregation had been removed from the centre of the church. On the men's side two empty benches stood together, on the women's three or four. After the trombonists had played a solemn chorale outside, the first chapel servant Joshua and his wife Bertha opened their respective doors, and about twenty men and more than thirty women entered from right and left and took their seats. Both men and women were all attired in their light braided sillapaks, and they are very particular to have clean ones for this service. The women who are communicants have a lock of their hair plaited in front of each ear. The vessels used on this occasion were presented to this congregation by two American ladies, who recently visited Hopedale. They were present on a similar occasion and were much struck by the solemnity and reality of the service. In grateful remembrance of the kindness of our missionaries they have sent this valuable and beautiful gift of communion plate.

Though unacquainted with the language, I was able to follow the simple, familiar communion service. The words of institution sounded solemn, as pronounced in Eskimo, and truly when one knelt with the congregation, and partook of the bread and wine, one could discern the Lord's body, and feel that, though these dear people have their temptations and their failings, yet there are many souls here who feed on the Bread of Life and live by Him. When He cometh it will be manifest, and even now He is glorified here in them that believe.

After the communion we went down to the boat to embark. The rock that stretches out into the harbour was crowded with Eskimoes, who had hurried to bid their departing missionaries a loving farewell.

A PLEASANT SAIL FROM HOPEDALE TO ZOAR.

_Tuesday, August 14th._--We are nearing the second station. Leaving Hopedale about dawn yesterday we made good progress northward, sailing quietly between innumerable islets, all bleak, bare, uninhabited rocks. We saw many small icebergs. In the evening one singularly shapely and beautiful berg floated past us, tipped with violet, which contrasted with the curious yellow tint of one side, the pure white of the mass and the living green of the waves rippling at its base. The sunset and the northern lights were very fine.

When I went on deck this morning the island of Ukalek, or "The Hare," was astern, various rocky islets, imperfectly marked, or altogether omitted on the chart, were on both sides of us, and Zoar far ahead among the distant hills. Our vessel was almost imperceptibly gliding in that direction. May the Lord, who alone knows the rifts and rocks of this marvellous coast, bring us safely thither, and guide me aright amid the difficulties of the present situation there! These people have learned no wisdom or thrift, in spite of all the love and patience shown them, and they have made the past winter a most trying time for their devoted missionaries.

The mirage yesterday and to-day is a wonderful freak of nature. At times, nothing can be seen as it really is. Icebergs and islands are flattened to one dead level, or doubled, so as to appear now like long bridges, now like high towers. The rapid changes in the appearance of solid masses are marvellous. All day we have been slowly sailing westward, new prospects of distant hills ever opening up as we passed headland after headland. Presently the barren rocks began to be clothed with firs here and there, but the lifelessness of the scene was striking. Once we caught sight of two or three Eskimo tents on a little island, but no human beings were visible. Only a solitary grampus made the circuit of our ship.

At length we round the last cape, and enter Zoar Bay. Presently we come in sight of the station buildings between the fir-clad slope and the shore. There is the store, now the mission-house and church appear from behind yonder rock. The Eskimoes are firing their shots of welcome, answered by rockets from the ship. Thank God, the station flag is flying at the mast-head! That tells us that neither illness nor accident have been permitted to carry off any of the missionaries.

Look behind you. The hills are glowing with a glorious "Alpenglühen"--an evening effect as splendid as it is surprising.

Now we are nearer. They are launching the "Emily," the station boat. Rowed by natives, she comes alongside almost as soon as our anchor is down, and all the resident missionaries climb on board, followed by a number of Eskimoes.

Soon our hosts carry us off to the hospitable little mission-house, which somehow or another manages to find comfortable quarters for all the visitors. I am writing up my diary in Mr. and Mrs. Rinderknecht's pleasant rooms, which I am to share with Mr. Kaestner, who is on his way to Nain to take part in our conference there. Mr. and Mrs. Martin are occupying the spare room below us, and the Lundbergs have also turned out to make room for Mr. and Mrs. Dam. Where our hosts have taken up their abode meanwhile remains a riddle for the present. (The riddle was solved in a subsequent tour of inspection of the house, when I found that the one resident couple had retired to the garret and the other to a workshop on the ground floor.)

ZOAR.

In its summer aspect this is a singularly lovely place. Yet, I see each station at its best, and can only guess at the changes which snow and ice will work in the landscape. Were this spot in Europe, it would soon be a favourite summer resort. Being in Labrador, however, the summer visitors would speedily fly from the swarms of mosquitoes and sand-flies. These appear as soon as the weather is at all warm and are a veritable plague in the summer evenings, which would else be so enjoyable. And when these myriad tormentors with wings and stings are gone, rude winter cuts short the autumn.

As usual in Labrador, the little mission-station lies on the north side of the bay, so that the wooded hill behind shields it from the northern blasts. This fir-clad slope makes Zoar much more friendly in appearance than any other station. Hopedale is bare and treeless in its general aspect and so in less degree are Nain and Okak, though all three have fir-trees in their neighbourhood. Ramah and Hebron are beyond the limit of even these hardy evergreens, and the latter looks very bleak and rocky. Pleasing as is the first impression of Zoar, the conviction soon grows upon one that the site has its serious disadvantages. First and foremost among these is the fact that it is not favourable to success in sealing and fishing, so that it is not easy for the inhabitants to make a livelihood.

The pretty mission-house affords convenient accommodation for two missionary families. It is, as usual, connected with the church by a covered passage. To the right of these buildings the little Eskimo village stretches along the shore, to their left are situated the well-stocked mission-gardens, from which pleasant paths have been made through the woods beyond. Between the church and the rocky beach stands the store, and not far off the salt-house and the boat-house. The powder-house is always situated on some rock at a safe distance from the station, for the Eskimoes burn a considerable quantity of this dangerous material in their ceaseless war with seals, walrusses, reindeer, and other animals, including an occasional black or white bear.

A CLIMB TO THE TOP OF THE SHIP HILL AT ZOAR.

The ascent to the spot whence the approach of the ships can best be descried is by no means so easily accomplished at Zoar as at Hopedale. But the hour's stiff climb is richly rewarded by a magnificent prospect. Our path lies first through the fir woods, then over a bare plain on which tufts of beautiful and very variegated mosses alternate with rocks and withered roots. This is evidently the site of a forest, which at no very distant date has been killed by the terrible climate. Up again through low thick brushwood and over great rocks, till at last we reach the summit. Seaward we can see the course by which the "Harmony" came in. Northward the eye ranges along the rugged coast with its innumerable islands and deep fjords. Yonder sheet of water is not an arm of the sea, but a great freshwater lake, long an object of superstitious dread to the Eskimoes. Neither in summer or winter dared they cross it, until their missionaries did so, for they believed a monster dwelt in it, who could eat up the man and his kayak, or sledge, dogs and driver. Inland one sees mountain after mountain, whose wild slopes are traversed by no human foot unless the Nascopie Indian, or "mountaineer," may pass that way in pursuit of the reindeer. None of these natives of the great unknown interior have visited our stations this year. In the Zoar bay beneath us the "Harmony" is riding at anchor near the mission premises, and now we can see the whole curve of the other great bay, which approaches Zoar from the north. The "itiblek," as the Eskimoes call a low narrow neck of land between two such arms of the sea, is but a few hundred yards across. To the east of yonder waterfall is a level place on the shore of the larger fjord, which was once thought of as a site for this station. But it would have been too much exposed to the east wind.

What a different landscape this will be in winter, when all those waterways among the islands are frozen! It must be very difficult even for an Eskimo sledge driver to know his way through the snow-covered labyrinth on so large a scale, indeed almost impossible when the driving snow hides his landmarks. But He, to whom we are wont to commend our travellers by land and sea, cares also for those who traverse the ice-plains of Labrador, that they may serve Him or join His people in worship. Not only our missionaries but the settlers have often experienced His goodness in answer to prayer in moments of perplexity or danger. It is indeed praiseworthy that, to gain a blessing for their souls, the latter are willing to run the risks and bear the expenses of a two or three days' sledge journey to the stations, often in terrible cold. Sometimes their children are sorely disappointed when the parents cannot venture to take them to the Christmas or Easter Festival. Last Christmas Eve, two boys, aged sixteen and fourteen, started from their home in Kamarsuk bay and walked through deep snow to Zoar, which they reached after ten laborious hours. English services are held for the settlers at this station as well as at Hopedale, though they are more frequent at the southern place owing to the visits of the crews from the Newfoundland fishing schooners.

FROM ZOAR TO NAIN BETWEEN ISLANDS.

Our voyage from Zoar to Nain occupied just twelve hours. We left about 5.30 A.M., and our anchor went down again before 5.30 P.M. The day was fine and warm, and the scenery changed continually. Often the way seemed barred before us, but, as we sailed on, a narrow strait opened to right or left, and as we neared Nain our voyage between the islands became more and more interesting. Presently some Nain Eskimoes caught sight of the "Harmony," and posted off to the station in their sailing boat, which kept ahead the whole way. Two men came to meet us in their kayaks, and paddled alongside for some time, their light skin boats skimming over the water as easily as the flock of ducks which had just crossed our bows. Passing the island Tâktuk, a salute fired by the one Eskimo visible was followed by such a concert of howls from his dogs seated in a row on a rock as made us all laugh. Next the Kauk came in view, a great rock looking like a skull, or, as its name implies, "a forehead," a very recognizable landmark often anxiously looked for on sledge journeys. Paul's Island, with its deep inlets, was to our right, and now a good wind sent us forward past headland after headland till Nain came out from behind the Süderhucke. First we could see the Eskimo village, whose inhabitants were, as usual, firing their guns and shouting; then the church came in sight, and the mission-house with flag at the mast head; then the store and the little pier, which, as we approached, was crowded with Eskimoes singing, "Now let us praise the Lord."

THE FIRST EVENING AT NAIN.