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When we pitched our tent on the shore of White Fish Lake it was a day of small things. Our party small, only two wigwams; the inmates of them extent of our first congregation. Our enemies prophesied certain failure of the undertaking. What can an Indian do with Indians to make prayer men and women of them? Besides, not having the garb of a true minister or priest, the Indians will not look at him, in a year or two he will gather up his duds and go back to where he came from. Quite different were the feelings and intentions of the despised worker. Though often weary or faint, yet he pursued the duties marked out. He felt the awfulness of his situation, for the vows of God were upon him, and he went forward trusting in the Lord Jehovah in whom is everlasting strength. Often when engaged in secular labor the want of food was felt. The larder being empty, if in summer he goes into the bush, picks a few berries for his dinner, or takes his gun and shoots a partridge or a rabbit, and the missionary goes on at the same time not neglecting to keep the old gospel musket trim, ready for use at every opportunity. The game of this kind that could be reached was at first shy and wild, and far down in the valley and dark wilderness; but by and by groans were heard, and sobs, with cries of great pain; then it was known the old musket had taken effect. As the aim was to kill now the object was to heal and make alive. If the aim of the humble worker has been reached by the skill of the Great Physician, so can these dark and benighted ones. Then the "shout of a king" was in our camp. This was the first indication of the coming day upon the darkness of this people. To begin work the soil was the next endeavor, though anyone who, through life long has been blessed with means proper to till the ground might have smiled at our first attempt in this direction. Hoes, or anything wherewith to work the ground, we had none. It is said that an Indian is always poor, but is never out of contrivance. We went to the woods and chopped down trees, selected the best and straightest limbs, chopped out a portion of the trunk and shaped them into hoes, burnt them a little to harden them, and went to work and broke up small patches of ground, and planted potatoes and sowed turnips. After awhile a plow was obtained, but we had no oxen, and our ponies, having been used for packing, could not be made to drag the plow. Not to be beaten, twelve Indians were hitched to the plow, and thus we broke up half an acre of ground and sowed it with barley. Such were the first steps towards farming. To-day almost all the families composing our settlement have a yoke of oxen, and can plow as much land as they like, receiving the benefit therefrom. Journeyings have been oft in all directions of the Saskatchewan country, and on the plains amid dangers among the savage heathen, thirsting for human blood, not unfrequently meeting Indians on the war path. Once I accompanies the White Fish Lake Indians to join another party of Crees in a buffalo hunt. On coming up to the party there were some unmistakable indications that the enemy were prowling around the camp, inasmuch as they had stolen some horses and murdered one of our party already. To all appearances a skirmish whit the enemy was unavoidable. The Sabbath had come with its many pleasing associations; a cloudless sky overhead, the plain covered with green, variegated with flowers of various hues, embalming the air; not a breath of wind to disturb the repose of this day that must be kept holy. Around the encampment you hear song sounded out by the voices of the inmates of that tent. What is the song? It is the song of Immanuel, and a prayer from a tent ascends to the throne of the great Jehovah who ever was and ever will be. By and by a herald cries throughout the encampment that the public service is to be held, when all are required to come. They did come, and after signing and praying, we were about finishing the Lord's Prayer, when a cry was heard from the outward watch, placed there by our warrior chief, Nuskepe-toon. "The Blackfeet are coming! The Blackfeet are coming!" As soon as the amen of the prayer was pronounced, every man to his feet! Every man to his arms! Onward, onward came the enemy and on and on went our men to meet them. The discharge of a hundred guns disturbed the stillness of the blessed day. I stood looking on; what would the issue be? Bullets whizzing overhead and all around. I saw the enemy turning and fleeing faster than they came. Our men chased and drove them twenty or thirty miles from our camp. Not one Cree was killed but one wounded in the foot. Many of the enemy were killed and their horses taken from them. On another occasion we were moving along the plains in quest of buffalo. My manner of doing my work whenever I went out with the with the hunters was to have some kind of moveable camp meeting - prayer before moving camp; the schoolmaster called the children morning, noon and evening; public prayer at night; on the Sabbath morning, 5 o'clock prayer meeting. As we were passing on the wide plains the scout and hunter came running saying the Blackfeet had killed a Cree; but we moved on and camped in a valley by the side of a very high hill, called the "Heart Hill." By and by the herald called out, "The Blackfeet! The Blackfeet!" Lo, the hill was covered with men, some on foot, and some on horses looking down on us as we quietly rested in our tents. We had unawares, come and pitched our camp too near the enemies' ground. Many a heartfelt prayer went up to Him who hitherto had been our strong tower of defense. "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we remembered the name of our God." Who again in this instance turned away and assuaged the wrath and malice of our enemies proving that they who trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which cannot be moved. Thus unhurt, the next morning, we passed on our way, the enemy still looking down as if ready to pounce us, "but the Lord suffered them not." Return
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