THE DEATH OF SKAGIT BILL.
Skagit Bill was in early days an Indian Catholic priest, but afterward went back to his gambling, drinking, and tamahnous. He died in August, 1875, of consumption. When he was sick, he came to the agency, where he remained for five weeks for Christian instruction. He seemed to think the old Indian religion of no value, and wished for something better. Sometimes I thought that he leaned on his Catholic baptism for salvation, and sometimes I thought not. His dying request was for a Christian funeral and burial, with nothing but a plain fence around his grave. The following, from the pen of Mrs. J. M. Walker, and taken from the Pacific Christian Advocate, gives the opinions of one other than myself:—
“Yesterday came to us fraught with solemn interest. Our flag hung at half-mast, reminding us that death had been in our midst and chosen another victim. This time he has not selected one rich in the treasures of this world, of high birth or noble blood, or boasting much culture or refinement. The lowly mien and dusky complexion of the deceased might not have attracted much attention from me or you, kind reader. But such are they whom our blessed Lord delights to honor; and, while we turn wearily from one to another, looking vainly for suitable soil in which to plant the seeds of true righteousness and true holiness, the Holy Spirit descends on some lonely, barren spot, and lo! before our astonished gaze springs into luxuriant growth a plant of rare holiness, meet even to be transplanted into the garden of paradise.
“I think it is not a common thing for a dying Indian to request a strictly Christian burial;[2] brought up as they are in the midst of superstition, with no religion but misty traditions and mysterious necromancy, the very fabulousness of which seems strangely adapted to their nomadic existence—surely no influence less potent than that of God’s Holy Spirit could induce one of them, while surrounded by friends who cling tenaciously to their heathenism and bitterly resent any innovations of Christian faith, to renounce the whole system with its weird ceremonies, and demand for himself the simple burial service used ordinarily by Christians.
“At eleven o’clock A.M. the coffin was brought into the church, and the funeral discourse preached; and we all felt that the occasion was one of deep solemnity. Probably every one present had seen dear friends lying, as this man now lay, in the icy embrace of death, and the keen pain in our own hearts, at the remembrance of our unhealed wounds, made us sympathize deeply with the afflicted mourners in their present bereavement. What is so potent to bind human hearts together in purest sympathy and kindest charity as common woe!
“A beautiful wreath lay upon the coffin, formed and given, I suspect, by the agent’s wife, a lady possessing rare nobility of mind and heart, and eminently fitted for the position she occupies. This delicate token I deemed emblematic; for as each bud, blossom, and sprig fitted its respective place, giving beauty and symmetry to the whole, so all of God’s creatures fit their respective places, and the absence of one would leave a void: and so also in heaven’s economy the diadem of the Prince of Light is set with redeemed souls of nationalities varied and diverse, each so essential to its perfection, that the highest ransom of which even Omniscience could conceive has been paid for it.
“Quite a number of Indians were present, and as the deceased had been with them and they had seen him die happy in his faith in Christ and his atonement, a rare opportunity offered for bringing the truth home to their hearts.
“The Indians here are, for the most part, shrewd and intelligent, capable of reasoning on any subject, where their judgment is not darkened by superstition; but, alas! most of them are in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity.... The body was taken for interment to a grave-yard some three miles from here. Our esteemed pastor, Rev. M. Eells, preached the funeral discourse, and also officiated at the grave, aided on each occasion by the usual interpreter [Mr. John F. Palmer], a man of considerable intellectual culture, of gentlemanly bearing, and pleasant address. This man, though greatly superior to any of his race whom I have met, is yet humble and strives to do his fellows good in a quiet, unostentatious manner, worthy the true disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus, which can not fail of great results, whether he live to enjoy them or not.
“What is so refining in its influences as true religion? It expands the mind, ennobles the thought, corrects the taste, refines the manners by the application of the golden rule, and works marvelous transformations in character. May a glorious revival of this pure religion sweep over our land, carrying away the bulwarks of Satan and leaving in their stead the ‘peaceable fruits of righteousness,’ until every creature shall exclaim: ‘Behold, what hath God wrought! Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it!’
A.”
XIX.
THE CENSUS OF 1880.
IN the fall of 1880 the government sent orders to the agent to take the census of all the Indians under him for the United States decennial census. To do so among the Clallams was the most difficult task, as they were scattered for a hundred and fifty miles, and the season of the year made it disagreeable, with a probability of its being dangerous on the waters of the lower sound in a canoe. I was then almost ready to start on a tour amongst a part of them and the agent offered to pay my expenses if I would combine this with my missionary work. He said that it was almost impossible for him to go; that none of the employees were acquainted either with the country or the large share of the Indians; that he should have to pay the expenses of some one; and that it would be a favor if I could do it. I consented, for it was a favor to me to have my expenses paid, while I should have an opportunity to visit all of the Indians; but it was December before I was fairly able to begin the work and it required four weeks.
In early life I had read a story about taking the census among some of the ignorant people of the Southern States and the superstitious fear that they had of it, and I thought that it would not be strange if the Indians should have the same fear. My previous acquaintance with them and especially the intimacy I had had with a few from nearly every settlement who had been brought to the reservation for drinking and had been with us some time and whose confidence I seemed to have gained, I found to be of great advantage in the work. Had it not been for these, I would have found it a very difficult task.
The questions to be asked were many—forty-eight in number, including their Indian as well as “Boston” names, the meaning of these, the age, and occupation; whether or not a full blood of the tribe; how long since they had habitually worn citizen’s dress; whether they had been vaccinated or not; whether or not they could read and write; the number of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, dogs, and fire-arms owned; the amount of land owned or occupied; the number of years they had been self-supporting, and the per cent. of support obtained from civilized industries and in other ways.
I began the work at Port Gamble one evening, and after much talk secured nineteen names, but the next forenoon I only obtained six. The men were at work in the mill, and the women, afraid, were not to be found. I then hired an interpreter, a boy who had been in school, and after talking a while had no more difficulty there. The best argument I could use why it was required was that some people said they were nothing but worthless Indians, and that it was useless to try to civilize them; that some of us thought differently and wished for facts to prove it, and when found, that they would be published to the world. And this I did in the Port Townsend Argus and American Antiquarian. One man refused to give me any information because that, years before, a census had been taken and soon after there had been much sickness, and he was afraid that if his name were written down he would die. But I easily obtained the information most needed from others. I was almost through, and was at Seabeck, the last town before reaching home, when I found the only one who was at all saucy. He gave me false names and false information generally, as I soon learned from another Indian present and it was afterward corrected. The ages of the older ones were all unknown, but the treaty with the tribe was made twenty-five years previous, and every man, woman, and child was present who possibly could be, and I could generally find out about how large they were then. When I asked the age of one man he said two years, but he said he had two hundred guns. He was about forty-three years old and had only one gun. To obtain the information about vaccination was the most difficult, as the instructions were that they should show me the scars on the arm if they had been vaccinated, and many of them were ashamed to do this. As far as I knew, none of them made a false statement. When about half-way through I met Mr. H. W. Henshaw, who had been sent from Washington to give general information about the work, and he absolved them from the requirement of showing the scar. He said that all that was needed was to satisfy myself on the point. On this coast, a dime is called a bit, although in reality a bit is half a quarter, and the Indians so understand it. In finding how nearly a pure Clallam one man was, I was informed that he was partly Clallam and partly of another tribe. But when I tried to find out how much of the other tribe I was told: “Not much; a bit, I guess.”
I was instructed to take the names of not only those who were at home, but of a number who were across the straits on the British side, whose residence might properly be said to be on this side. In asking about one man I was told that he had moved away a long time ago, very long, two thousand years, probably, and so was not a member of the tribe.
It struck me that some pictures of myself, with descriptions of them would have adorned Harper’s Monthly as well as any of Porte Crayon’s sketches. With an old Indian man and his wife I sat on the beach in Port Discovery Bay all day waiting for the wind to die down, because it was unsafe to proceed in a canoe with the snow coming down constantly on one of the coldest days of the year, with a mat up on one side to keep a little of the wind off, and a small fire on the other side; and, at last, we had to give up and return to Port Discovery, as the wind would not die. I waked up one morning on the steamer Dispatch to have a drop of water come directly into my eye, for there was a hard rain, and the steamer overhead (not underneath) was leaky. I got up to find my shirt so wet that I dared not put it on, while the water in the state-room above me was half an inch deep and was shoveled out with a dust-pan. I walked from the west to the east end of Clallam Bay, only two miles, but while trying to find a log across the Clallam River I wandered about a long time in the woods and brush, wet with a heavy rain, and when I did find it it reached just not across the river, but within a few feet of the bank, and I stood deliberating whether it was safe or not to make the jump; trying to jump and not quite daring to run the risk of falling into the river, sticking my toes and fingers into the bank, and the like, but at last made the crossing safely. It took half a day to travel those two miles. I ate a Sunday dinner at Elkwa, between church-services, of some crumbs of sweet cake out of a fifty-pound flour-sack, so fine that I had to squeeze them up in my hands in order to get them into my mouth. An apple and a little jelly finished the repast—the last food I had. At Port Angeles I rode along the beach on horseback at high tide, and at one time in trying to ford a slough I found we were swimming in the water. I partly dried out at an Indian house near by, taking the census at the same time. Again, the steamer Dispatch rolled in a gale, while the water came over the gunwales, the food and plates slid off the tables, the milk spilt into gum boots, the wash-dish of water upset into a bed, and ten minutes after I left her at Dunginess the wind blew her ashore, dragging her anchors. But there were also some special providences on the trip. “He who will notice providences will have providences to notice,” some one has said, and I was reminded of this several times. I came in a canoe from Clallam Bay to Elkwa, the most dangerous part of the route, with the water so smooth that a small skiff would have safely rode the whole distance, thirty-five miles, to have a heavy storm come the next day, and a heavy gale, when I again went on the water, but then a steamer was ready to carry me. The last week, on coming from Jamestown home, in a canoe, I had pleasant weather and a fair north wind to blow me home the whole time, only to have it begin to rain an hour after I reached home, the commencement of a storm which lasted a week. Strange that a week’s north wind should bring a week’s rain. I have never noticed the fact at any other time.
But the most noticeable providence of all was as follows: On my way down, the good, kind people of Seabeck, where I occasionally preached, made me a present of forty dollars, and it was very acceptable, for my finances were low. At Port Gamble I spent it all and more, too, for our winter supplies, as I did not wish to carry the money all around with me, and, also, so that I might get at Port Townsend those things which I could not find at Port Gamble. I often did so, and ordered them to be kept there until my return. About three days later I heard that the store at Port Gamble was burned with about every thing in it, the loss being estimated at seventy-five thousand dollars. The thought came into my mind, Why was that money given to me to be lost so quickly? On my return I went to Port Gamble to see about the things and to my great surprise I found that only about two wheelbarrow loads of goods had been saved, and that mine were among them. They had been packed and placed at the back door. The fire began in the front part, so they broke open the back door, and took the first things of which they could lay hold, and they were mine, and but little else was saved.
When I arrived at Seabeck the kind ladies of the place presented my wife with a box containing over thirty dollars’ worth of things as a Christmas present. Among these was a cloak. During my absence she had been trying to make herself one, supposing that she had cloth enough, but when she began to cut it out to her dismay she found that with all the twisting, turning, and piecing that she could do, there was not cloth enough, so she had given it up and made a cloak for our little boy out of it. She naturally felt badly, as she did not know how she should then get one. “All these things are against me,” said Jacob, but he found that they were all for him. Others besides Jacob have found the same to be true.
The statistical information obtained in this census is as follows:—
In the Clallam tribe there were then 158 men, 172 women, 86 boys, and 69 girls; a total of 485 persons. Six were on or near the reservation, 10 near Seabeck, 96 at Port Gamble, 6 at Port Ludlow, 22 at Port Discovery, 12 at Port Townsend, 18 at Sequim, 86 at Jamestown, 36 at or near Dunginess. (Those at Sequim and near Dunginess were all within six miles of Jamestown.) Fifty-seven at Port Angeles (but a large share of them were across the straits on the British side), 67 at Elkwa, 24 at Pyscht, and 49 at or near Clallam Bay. There were 290 full-blooded Clallams among them, and the rest were intermingled with 18 other tribes. Fifteen were part white. During the year previous to October 1, 1880, there had been 11 births and 9 deaths. Forty-one had been in school during the previous year, 49 could read and 42 write; 135 could talk English so as to be understood, of whom 69 were adults; 65 had no Indian name; 33 out of 123 couples had been legally married.
They owned 10 horses, 31 cattle, 5 sheep, 97 swine, 584 domestic fowls, and 137 guns and pistols, most of them being shot-guns. Thirty-four were laborers in saw-mills; 22 were farmers. There were 80 fishermen, 23 laborers, 17 sealers, 15 canoe-men, 6 canoe-makers, 6 hunters, 3 policemen, 11 medicine-men, 4 medicine-women, 1 carpenter, 2 wood-choppers, 1 blacksmith, and 40 of the women were mat and basket makers. Twenty-eight persons owned 576 acres of land with a patented title, four more owned 475 acres by homestead, and twenty-two persons, representing 104 persons in their families, cultivated 46 acres.
During the year they raised 2,036 bushels of potatoes, 14 tons of hay, 26 bushels of oats, 258 bushels of turnips, 148 bushels of wheat, 20 bushels of apples, 5 of plums, and 4 of small fruit. They had 113 frame-houses, valued by estimate at $5,650, four log-houses, worth $100, twenty-nine out-houses, as barns, chicken-houses, and canoe-houses, two jails, and two churches. They cut 250 cords of wood; received $1,994 for sealing, $646 for salmon, and $1,000 for work in the Port Discovery mill. I was not able to learn what they had earned at the Seabeck and Port Gamble saw-mills. Two hundred and eleven of them were out of the smoke when at home. I estimated that on an average they obtained seventy-two per cent. of their living from civilized food, the extremes being fifty and one hundred per cent.
Twana Indians.—This census was taken by government employees mainly, and some of the estimates differed considerably from what I should have made. Probably hardly two persons could be found who would estimate alike on some points. They numbered 245 persons, of whom there were 70 men, 84 women, 41 boys, and 47 girls. The residence of 49 was in the region of Seabeck, and of the rest on the Skokomish Reservation. There were only 20 full-blooded Twanas, the rest being intermingled with 15 other tribes; 24 were partly white. During the year there were 8 births and 3 deaths. Twenty-nine had been in school during the previous year; 35 could read, and 30 could write; 68 could talk English; 37 had no Indian name. Out of 67 couples 23 had been legally married. They owned 80 horses, 88 cattle, 44 domestic fowls, and 36 guns. There were 42 farmers, 4 carpenters, 2 blacksmiths, 4 laborers, 7 hunters, 20 fishermen, 21 lumbermen and loggers, 1 interpreter, 1 policeman, 6 medicine-men, 7 washer-women, 6 mat and basket makers, and 1 assistant matron. Forty-seven of them, representing all except about 40 of the tribe, held 2,599 acres of unpatented land, all but 40 of which was on the reservation. They raised 80 tons of hay and 450 bushels of potatoes during the year. They owned 60 frame-houses valued at $3,000. All but 25 were off of the ground and out of the smoke. It was estimated that on an average they obtained 78 per cent. of their subsistence from civilized food, the extremes being 25 and 100 per cent., but these estimates were made by two different persons who differed widely in their calculations.
XX.
THE INFLUENCE OF THE WHITES.
SOME of this has been good and some very bad. Wherever there is whiskey a bad influence goes forth, and there is whiskey not far from nearly all the Indian settlements. Still it must be acknowledged that the influence of all classes of whites has been in favor of industry, Christian services at funerals, and the like, and against tamahnous and potlatches. Around Skokomish—with a few exceptions of those whose influence has been very good—there are not many who keep the Sabbath and do not swear, drink whiskey, and gamble; but this influence has been partially counteracted by the employees on the reservation. It has not been possible to secure Christian men who could fill the places, but moral men have at least generally been obtained. It has been one of the happy items of this missionary work, that a good share of those who have come to the reservation as government employees, who have not at the time of their coming been Christians, have joined the church on profession of their faith before they have left. The Christian atmosphere at the agency has been very different from that of a large share of the outside world. The church is within a few hundred yards of the houses of all the employees, and thus it is very convenient to attend church, prayer-meetings, and Sabbath-school. Thus those persons who were not Christians when they came, found themselves in a different place from what they had ever been. There are many persons who often think of the subject of religion; wish at heart that they were Christians, and intend at some time to become such, but the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the people with whom they associate, choke the good thoughts. But let such people be placed in a Christian community, where these influences are small, and breathe a Christian atmosphere, and the good seed comes up. So it has been among the happy incidents of these ten years to receive into the church some of these individuals.
Two brothers, neither of whom were Christians, but whose mother was one, were talking together on the subject of religion, at Seattle, when one of them said that he believed it to be the best way. Not long after that the other brother came to the reservation, where he became a Christian. He then wrote to his brother, saying, “I have now found by experience that it is the best way.”
Another man and his wife had for years been skeptical, but were like “the troubled sea which can not rest,” and were sincere inquirers after truth. In the course of time, after thorough investigation, they became satisfied of the truth of the Bible, as most people do who sincerely seek for light, and became Christians. A year afterward the gentleman said: “This has been by far the happiest year of my life;” and many times in prayer-meetings and conversation did they speak in pity of their old companions who were still in darkness and had not the means of obtaining the light which they had found.
Several of the children of the employees also came into the church; one of them, eleven years old, being the youngest person whom I ever received into church membership. Such events as these had a silent but strong influence upon the Indians, as strong I think as if these persons had been Christians before they came to the reservation. Thirteen white persons in all united with the Skokomish church, on profession of faith, and twenty-three by letter.
At Jamestown it was different. There was only a school-teacher as a government employee, and he was not sent there until 1878. There are only a few church privileges or Christians in the county, but fortunately a good share of the Christians have lived near to the Indian village, the Indians have worked largely for them, and I have sometimes thought that their influence has had as much to do in elevating the Jamestown people as that of the missionary and agent.
“Hungry for preaching” was the way I felt about one old lady in 1880, who was seventy-six years old. With her son she walked two and a half miles to Jamestown to church to the Indian service in the morning, then a mile further to a school-house where I preached to the whites in the afternoon, and then home again—seven miles in all; and she has done it several times since, although now nearly eighty. She often walks to the Indian services when there is no white person to take charge of it.
On one communion Sabbath a lady too weak from ill-health to walk the three quarters of a mile between her house and the Indian church was taken by her husband on a wheelbarrow a good share of the way. In 1883 an old gentleman seventy-three years of age stood up with four Indians to unite with the church—the oldest person I ever saw join a church on profession of faith. As we went home he said: “This is what I ought to have done forty years ago.” Such influences as these have done much to encourage these Indians.
XXI.
THE CHURCH AT SKOKOMISH.
THE church was organized June 23, 1874, the day after I arrived, with eleven members, only one of whom was an Indian, John F. Palmer, who was government interpreter. I did not come with the expectation of remaining, but only for a visit. I had just come from Boise City, Idaho, and more than half-expected to go to Mexico, but that and some other plans failed, when the agent said that he thought I might do as much good here as anywhere, and the sentiment was confirmed by others. Rev. C. Eells had been here nearly two years, had been with the church through all its preliminary plans, and it was proper that he should be its pastor, and he was so chosen at the first church meeting after the organization. He almost immediately left for a two months’ tour in Eastern Washington, and wished me to fill his place while I was visiting. The next summer he spent in the same way, only wintering with us. His heart was mainly set on work in that region, where he had spent a good share of his previous life. He felt too old, at the age of sixty-four, to learn a new Indian language, and so from the first the work fell into my hands, but he remained as pastor. When it was decided that I should remain, the American Missionary Association gave me a commission as its missionary, and I served as assistant pastor for nearly two years. In the spring of 1876 the pastor left for several months’ work in the region of Fort Colville, hardly expecting to make this his residence any longer; hence he resigned, and in April, 1876, I was chosen as his successor.
During most of this time the congregations continued good, though once in a while the Indians would get very angry at some actions about the agency, and almost all would stay away from church, but the average attendance until the spring of 1876 was ninety. At that time the disaffection resulting from the trouble with Billy Clams, as spoken of under the subject of Marriage and Divorce, caused a considerable falling off, so that the average attendance for the next two years was only seventy. Although the people got over that disaffection in a measure, yet one thing or another came up, so that while in 1879 and 1880 the average attendance was better, the congregation never wholly returned until the fall of 1883. A Catholic service sprang up in 1881, which took away a number, and which will hereafter be more fully described among the Dark Days.
From the first there were a few additions to the church, but more of them during the first few years were from among the whites, several of them being children of the employees, than from among the Indians. When the Indians began to join, all the accessions, with one exception, were from among the school-children, and others connected with the work at the agency until 1883. Gambling, horse-racing, betting, and tamahnous had too strong a hold on them for them to easily give up these practices.
The following is from The American Missionary for April, 1877:—
“Our hearts were gladdened last Sabbath by receiving into our church three of the Indian school-boys, each of them supposed to be about thirteen years old. We had kept them on virtual probation for nearly a year, until I began to feel that to do so any longer would be an injury both to themselves and others. Their conduct, especially toward their school-teacher, although not perfect, has been so uniformly Christian that those who were best acquainted with them felt the best satisfied in regard to their change of heart. Said a member of our church of about fifty years’ Christian experience: ‘I wish that some of the white children whom we have received into the church had given half as good evidence of being Christians as these boys give.’ On religious subjects they have been most free in communicating both to their teacher and myself by letter. I have thought that you might be interested in extracts from some of them, and hence send you the following.
“I am going to write to you this day. Please help me to get my father to become a Christian” (his father is an Indian doctor) “and I think I will get Andrew and Henry” (the other Christian boys) “to say a word for my father. I want you to read it to my father.”
He wrote to his father the following, which I read to him:—
“August 3, 1877.
“My Dear Beloved Father,—Your son is a Christian. I am going off another road. I am going a road where it leadeth to heaven, and you are going to a big road where it leadeth to hell. But now please return back from hell. I was long time thinking what I shall do, then my father would be saved from hell. I prayed to God. I asked God to help my father to become a Christian.”
The letter of another to his Indian friends:—
“You have not read the Bible, for you can not read, but you have heard the minister read it to you. You seem not to pay good attention, but you know how Jesus was crucified; how he was put on the cross; how he was mocked and whipped, and they put a crown of thorns, and he was put to death.
The letter of the other to me:—
“Oh, how I love all the Indians! I wish they should all become Christians. If you please, tell them about Jesus’ coming. It makes me feel bad because the Indians are not ready.”
To his Indian friends:—
“The first time I became a Christian, I found it a very hard thing to do, but I kept asking Jesus to help me, and so he did, for I grew stronger and stronger. So, my friends, if you will just accept Jesus as your King, he will help you to the end of your journey. You must trust wholly in Jesus’ strength, and yield your will, your time, your talents, your reputation, your strength, your property, your all, to be henceforth and forever subject to his divine control—your hearts to love him; your tongues to speak for him; your hands and feet to work for him, and your lives to serve him when and where and as his Spirit may direct. Don’t be proud, but be very good Christians; be brave and do what is right.
“Your young friend,
“—— ——”
It is but just to say now that the first two of these have been suspended from the church for misconduct, and still stand so on our record. The other one has done a good work, and has been one of the leaders of religion with the older people, sometimes holding one and two meetings a week with them and teaching the Bible class of fifty on the Sabbath.
The Twanas and the Clallams were formerly at war with each other, and even now the old hostile feeling, dwindled down to jealousy, will show itself at times. A like unpleasant feeling has often been shown between the whites and Indians, yet, on the first Sabbath in April, 1880, three persons united with the church and received baptism, who belonged one to each of these three classes. Another noticeable fact was the reason which induced them to become Christians. In reply to my question on this point, each one, unknown to the other, said that it was because they had noticed that Christians were so much happier than other people. Two of them had tried the wrong road with all their heart, and had found to their sorrow that “the way of transgressors is hard.”
The following table will show the state of the church during the ten years:—
| Added by Letter. | Added on Profession of Faith. | Of those Joining on Profession, these were Indians. | Dismissed by Letter. | Died. | Excommunicated. | Membership on Last Day of Fiscal Year. | Absentees. | |
| Organized with | 9 | 2 | 1 | 11 | ||||
| June, 1874-75 | 2 | 13 | ||||||
| June, 1875-76 | 4 | 4 | 1 | 21 | ||||
| June, 1876-77 | 2 | 2 | 2 | 9 | 16 | 2 | ||
| June, 1877-78 | 3 | 3 | 19 | 2 | ||||
| June, 1878-79 | 6 | 4 | 2 | 1 | 22 | 4 | ||
| June, 1879-80 | 4 | 11 | 7 | 1 | 36 | 5 | ||
| June, 1880-81 | 2 | 5 | 3 | 3 | 40 | 10 | ||
| June, 1881-82 | 2 | 5 | 4[3] 5 | 16 | 31 | 13 | ||
| June, 1882-83 | 1 | 5 | 6[3] 5 | 6 | 31 | 13 | ||
| June, 1883-July, 1884 | 1 | 18 | 7[3] 17 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 43 | 10 |
| Total | 27 | 61 | 64 | 37 | 6 | 2 |
The large diminution in 1876-77 was caused by the removal of employees. The same cause operated in 1881-82, for then the Indians were believed to be so far advanced in civilization that the government thought it wise to discharge all of the employees except the physician and those at work in the school. During that year the church also granted letters to seven of its members who lived at Jamestown, to assist in organizing a church there. Thus when the reasons for the reduced membership of that year were considered there was no particular cause for discouragement, but rather for encouragement. One white man and one Indian have been ex-communicated.
The next year the agent moved away, and while he still retained his membership in the church, and aided it financially almost as much as when he resided here, still his absence has been felt, as from the beginning he had been its clerk and treasurer, for a part of the time its deacon, and his councils had always been of great value.
The absentees grew in number mainly because white employees moved away, and did not always unite with another church.
On July 4, 1880, the first Indian infant was baptized. Some cases of discipline have been necessary, four being now suspended. Most cases of discipline have resulted favorably.
XXII.
BIG BILL.
AMONG those who about thirty years previous had received Catholic instruction and baptism was Big Bill. He was one of the better Indians. When in 1875 I went to their logging-camps to hold meetings, as related under the head of Prayer-meetings, he seemed to be a leading one in favor of Christianity. When I offered to teach them how to pray, sentence by sentence, the other Indians selected him, as one of the most suitable, in their opinion, thus to pray. I never knew him to do any thing which was especially objectionable, even in a Christian, except that he clung to his tamahnous, and at times he seemed to be even trying to throw that off. Quite often he would have nothing to do with an Indian doctor when he was sick, although he was related to some of them—then again he would call on them for their assistance. In time consumption took hold of him, together with some other disease, and he wasted away. He wanted to join the church and be baptized. One reason given was that he had heard of another Indian far away who had been sick somewhat as he was, who was baptized and recovered. Of course this reason was good for nothing, and he was told so, yet because of his previous life and his Christian profession this point was overlooked as one of the things for which we should have to make allowance, and he was received into the church May 9, 1880. I had made up my mind not to ask him to unite with the church, notwithstanding his apparent fitness in some respects, because of doubts which I had on other points, but when he made the request it seemed to me as if a new aspect were put on the affair, and I was hardly ready to refuse.
He came to church as long as he was able, though he lived two miles away, and always seemed glad to see me. But his sickness was long and wore on his mind. His nervous system was affected. Before he died he saw some strange visions when he was not asleep. His visions combined some Protestant teaching, some of the Catholic, and some of their old native superstitions, and had reference especially to heaven. He sent for me to tell me about them, but I was not at home. When I returned three or four days afterward I went to see him. I found that Billy Clams, the leader of the Catholic set, was there, and I suspected that his weak mind was turning to that religion of which he had been taught in his younger days. It was so. I often went to see him, and he always received me well, yet he kept up his intimacy with Billy Clams. He told me much of his visions, and seemed hurt that I did not believe them to be as valid as the Bible. Amongst other things in his visions he saw an old friend of his who had died many years previous, and this friend taught him four songs. They were mainly about heaven, and there was not much objection to them, except that they said that Sandyalla, the name of this friend, told him some things. This was a species of spiritualism perpetuated in song. He taught these songs to his friends. When he could no longer come to church he instituted church services at his house, twice on each Sabbath and on Thursday evening, to correspond with ours. Hence I could not attend them, and his brothers, who leaned toward the Catholic religion, and Billy Clams had every thing their own way. When I went to see him he was glad to have me sing and hold services in my way. The whole affair became mixed. He died June, 1881, and his relations asked me to attend the funeral. I did so. They also prepared a long service of his own and Catholic song and prayers, of lighted candles and ceremonies which they went through with after I was done. (It was the first and last funeral in which they and I had a partnership.)
He had two brothers and a brother-in-law, the head chief, who inclined to the Catholic religion. They had always given as an excuse for not coming to church that as Big Bill could not come they went to his house for his benefit and held services. But after his death their services did not cease. They kept them up as an opposition, partly professing that they were Catholics, and partly saying that their brother’s last words and songs were very precious to them, and they must get together, talk about what he had said and sing his songs. In course of time this proved a source of great trouble—one of the most severe trials which we had. More will be told of this under the head of Dark Days.
About the only good thing, as far as I knew, in connection with these visions, was that they induced him to give up his tamahnous, or Indian doctors, and he advised his relations to do the same. He said that in his visions he had learned that God did not wish such things.
After his death his brother told me that Big Bill had foretold events which actually took place, as the sickness and death of several persons, and so they believed his visions to have come from God. It may have been so. I could not prove the contrary, but it was very hard for me to believe it. Big Bill never told me those prophecies, nor did his brother tell me of them until after each event occurred. Singly after each death or sickness took place I was informed that he had foretold it.
XXIII.
DARK DAYS.
FEBRUARY, 1883, covered about the darkest period I have seen during the ten years. It was due to several causes.
(1) The Half-Catholic Movement.—Ever since I have been here some of the Indians leaned toward the Catholic Church, when they leaned toward any white man’s church, because of their instruction thirty years ago. In 1875 some of them spoke to me quite earnestly about inviting Father Chirouse, a prominent Catholic missionary, to come here and help me, a partnership about which I cared nothing. The matter slumbered, only slightly showing itself, until the time of the sickness and death of Big Bill. For two or three years previous to this Billy Clams professed to have reformed and become a Christian, but it was Catholic Christianity he had embraced, and he often held some kind of service at his house, occasionally coming to our church; but very few, if any, were attracted to it. After Big Bill’s death the affair took definite shape, there being a combination of Big Bill’s songs and prayers and those of Billy Clams. The head chief was brother-in-law to Big Bill, and threw his influence in favor of the opposition church, and a considerable number were attracted to it. Religious affairs thus became divided and a number lost interest in the subject and went nowhere to church.
(2) John Slocum.—Affairs went on this way from June, 1881, until November, 1882; their efforts apparently losing interest for want of life. At that time John Slocum, an Indian who had many years before lived on the reservation, but who had for six or seven years lived twelve or fourteen miles away, apparently died, or else pretended to die, I can not determine which, though there is considerable evidence to me and other whites that the latter was true. The Indians believed that he really died. He remained in that state about six hours, when he returned to life, and said that he had been to heaven and seen wonderful visions of God and the future world. He said that he could not get into heaven, because that God had work for him to do here, and had sent him back to preach to the Indians. According to his order a church was built for him, and he held services which attracted Indians from all around. At first his teaching agreed partly with what he had learned from me, partly with the Catholic religion, and partly with neither, but he was soon captured by the Catholics, baptized, and made a priest. There was much intercourse between him and Billy Clams and friends. Their waning church was greatly revived and ours decreased.
(3) Mowitch Man.—Mainly through the influence of John Slocum, another Indian on the reservation, Mowitch Man, who had two wives, but had some influence, was roused to adopt some religion. His consisted partly in following John Slocum, but largely in his own dreams. For a time he affiliated somewhat with Billy Clams and his set, but not always, being rather too dreamy for them, and at last there came a complete separation and we had a third church.
(4) White Members.—Owing to orders from the government, the agent and all of the white employees, except the school-teacher, the physician, and an industrial teacher, were removed. The school-teacher and wife were excellent people, and willing to do all that they could, but he had taken charge about the first of February and every thing was new to him. The government had promised an industrial teacher to aid him, but the one procured had been drowned while coming on the steamer Gem, that had been burned, and an old gentleman had to be taken in his place for a time, who was good and willing, but unable to do what was required. This threw additional work on the school-teacher, which almost crushed him, and I dared not call on him for much help, but rather had to assist him. He and his wife were the only white resident members the church had except the pastor and his wife.
(5) The Government Physician.—Unfortunately the physician proved to be the wrong man in the wrong place, but was retained for a time because it was impossible to obtain any one else who was better. When the agent left the previous fall, by orders from Washington, he was in charge of the reservation until February. His moral and religious influence in many points was at zero. The less said about him the better, but we had to contend against his influence.
(6) Indian Church Members.—Previous to this time nineteen Indians had been received into the church on the reservation. Of these four had died, two had been suspended, and another ought to have been, but for good reasons was suffered to remain for a time; two more were sisters of Billy Clams, and had gone with his church, but were not suspended because the church thought it best to be lenient with them for a time on account of their ignorance and the strong influence brought to bear on them; three had moved away, and there were seven left, three of whom were school-girls.
The previous summer there were two young men who had assisted considerably in church work, and I was hoping much from them, but one of them in getting married had done very badly, had been locked up in jail and suspended from the church, and thus far, although I had kindly urged him, and it had been kindly received as a general thing, yet he had refused to make the public acknowledgment which the church required of him. The other, with so many adverse influences to contend against as there then were on the reservation, found it hard work to stand as a Christian without doing much as a teacher.
During the previous spring there had been considerable religious interest, and four men with their families had taken a firm stand for the right, but in August one of them for wrong-doing had been put in jail, and in the fall two others had fallen into betting and gambling at a great Indian wedding, and the remaining one, a sub-chief, whom I thought a suitable candidate for church membership, had declined to unite with the church when I suggested the subject to him.
(7) An Indian Inspector.—About the last of January, 1883, an inspector visited the reservation. I would not speak evil of our rulers, and personally he treated me with respect, and gave me all the privileges for which I could ask: but he was a rough, profane man. I have been much in the company of rough loggers and miners, but never, I think, met a man who was so rough and impolite in the presence of ladies as he was, nor have I ever had so many oaths repeated in my house, nor have my children heard so many from dirty, despised, heathen Indians for a long time, if ever. His intercourse with the Indians was more rough and profane than with me, and any thing but a help to their morality. He so offended Chehalis Jack, the only chief who remained on our side, that he did not come to church for a month. The influence he left with the school-children was also largely against religion. Through his influence my interpreter either refused to interpret, or did the work in so poor a manner that all were disgusted with him.
This seemed to cap the climax, and during February hardly an Indian who could not understand English came to church. There were present only the school-children, a very few whites, and occasionally a very few of the older Indians, nearly all of whom had previously been in school, so that I did not have occasion to preach in Indian during the whole of that month.
I felt somewhat discouraged, and then thought more seriously of leaving than at any other time during the ten years. I however determined to wait until July, during which time I expected to have opportunities to consult with several whose advice I valued, and in the meantime await further developments.
XXIV.
LIGHT BREAKING.
THERE was one good result from the whole excitement: it kept the subject of religion prominently before the people. It did not die of stagnation, as it had almost seemed to do during some previous years. In my visits I was well treated and was asked many questions on the subject. I was welcomed at two or three of the logging-camps during the winter for an evening service, where I talked Bible to them as plainly as I could. They at least asked me to go to them, although they would not come to our church. A constant call, too, came for large Bible pictures. In March a barrel came from the Pearl-street Church in Hartford, Connecticut, full of clothes and substantial good things, the value of which I estimated at about a hundred and twenty dollars. This came when the whites were mostly gone, salary failing, and seemed to be a voice from above, saying, “You go on with the work and I will take care of the support.”
During the month of March some of the older Indians came back again to church, so that I could hold the service in Indian. There had been three whom I had been willing to receive into the church for some time, and during the latter part of the month I found two more. The sub-chief who had declined joining in January was one of them and a policeman was another—both men of influence. So, on the first Sabbath in April, the five were received into the church, and we rejoiced with trembling. These had seen the whole opposition; they had mingled with its followers and had refused to join them, and hence were not likely to wander off into those errors. This was more of the older Twana Indians who had never been in school than had united with the church since its organization. These gave up horse-racing, betting, gambling, and all of tamahnous except that which had reference to the sick, to which they held as a superstition but not a religion. I felt that on this point they were as children, or persons with their heads and hearts in the right direction but with their eyes only half-open. In July two Indian women and a school-girl were added to the number and in October another school-girl and a woman. These drew with them so many that we had a respectable congregation.
XXV.
THE FIRST BATTLE.
AFFAIRS went on about the same until August. The report then was that Billy Clams had been to John Slocum’s and that they had arranged to have a great time. He came back and an invitation was extended to the whole reservation to go to John Slocum’s, where it was said that four women were to be turned into angels; they would receive revelations directly from heaven, and many wonderful things would be done. Two logging-camps out of four were induced to shut down completely for the time, and some people went from one other. They were told that they would be lost if they did not go; that the baptism of those whom I had baptized was good for nothing, being done with common water, and that they must go and be baptized again, and that the world was coming to an end in a few days. About thirty-five Indians went from here and many others from other places, and there was great excitement. Some Catholic ceremonies were held, something similar to the old black tamahnous ceremonies being added to them. These put the patient into a state somewhat like that of mesmerism, baptizing it with the name of religion. Visions were abundant; four people, it was said, died and were raised to life again; women, professing to be angels, tried to fly around. People went around brushing and striking others until some were made black for a week, the professed intent being to brush off their sins. A shaking took hold of some of them, on the same principle, I thought, that fifty years ago nervous jerks took hold of some people at the South and West at their exciting camp-meetings; and this continued with them afterward until they gained the name of the shaking set. Some acted very much like crazy people, and some indecent things were done. It was reported that they saw myself, Mowitch Man, and others in hell; that I was kept on the reservation to get the lands of the Indians away from them, and that I told lies in church. Such reports came to the reservation after a few days that the teacher here, who was in charge of the reservation, thought that he had better go and see it and perhaps try to stop it. He took two policemen and the interpreter with him and went there. He stayed one night and talked to them so plainly that they returned a day or two afterward; but their nervous excitement was not over. Some of them, as they returned, went to their homes, and a little cooling off, together with the talk of their friends, brought them to their senses; but about half of the number kept on. They mainly consisted of those who had been at work in the logging-camp of David, Dick & Co. Dick was head chief, and David was a brother of Big Bill and, next to Billy Clams, was the leader in the excitement. Their camp was eight miles from the reservation; but for about two weeks they stayed on the reservation, singing, brushing off sins, shaking, and professing to worship God in their own way. The excitement and other things, however, made Ellen, the wife of David, sick; in a few days her infant child died, and they thought she was about to die. Chief Dick was sick for more than a week. One of David’s oxen, worth about a hundred and fifty dollars, mired, and for want of care died; and it seemed as if God were taking things into his own hands. The shaking set now said that all tamahnous was bad and that they would have no Indian doctor for their sick. Ellen had a sister who lived at the Chehalis, a day and a half’s ride distant, and she was sent for. When she came she was determined to have an Indian doctor, and with considerable of a war of words she conquered Ellen’s husband and the whole set, and took Ellen off to an Indian doctor. There were two or three in the logging-camp who were tired of the affair, for they had lost three weeks of the best of weather for work, so they reorganized their shattered forces and moved to their camp. Ellen’s husband and son, who also belonged to the set, now neglected her. They furnished her almost nothing, neither food, clothes, nor bedding, and when she wished to have her little boy, they would not allow it. If they could have had control of her they would have taken her to their camp, taken care of her, and held their ceremonies over her; they came twice to see her, but the Indian doctors would not be partners with their shakings, and drove them off. On the eighth of September she died, and her sister had possession of the body. All of the members of our church, Indian doctors, and all who were opposed to the shaking set, now joined company with her sister. They asked me if the body might be brought to our church and kept there until the coffin should be made, and if I would hold the funeral services. This had often been done in previous funerals, and I could not well have said no if I had wished so to do. I consented, but saw plainly that it was more than an ordinary request. They feared that her husband would come and claim the body. Before her death she had requested her sister not to give her body to her husband because he had neglected her so. The contest was to be over this, and they thought that if the body was in my possession her husband would probably not obtain it. A strange contest. But the body was brought to the church and left there. About noon the next day I met her husband and several friends about three miles from the agency, apparently coming to it. They asked about the body, and I told them all about it. They said that they were coming to the agency, and wanted to take the body, have their services over it, and bury it. I was being drawn into the contest, but with my eyes open. As a general thing, a man certainly had a right to the body of his wife. But they left, as I thought, a place of escape, by saying that they should go and see her sister. If she gave them the body, they would take it and bury it in their way, but if not, they wished me to hold funeral services over it and bury it in the best manner possible. I was satisfied with that remark, for I wished, if possible, to let them fight it out. I came home immediately, and told our side these things, most of whom where gathered at the agency. After this the coffin was finished; she was placed in it, a few words were said, and I was requested to keep the body until the next day, when the funeral was to take place. Three hours had now passed since I came home, but David and company had not arrived. They had turned aside and held their services during that time. All of our side started for their homes. But they had not gone far, and I had only been at my house a few minutes, when I was called to the door to meet Ellen’s husband and son, Chief Dick, Billy Clams, and others. They asked me where the body was, and I told them. They said that her son wished to see his mother. I had no objections. Her son then said that he should take the body to his house, keep it for three days with lights burning at her head and feet, and then bury her with their ceremonies. He did not ask me for her, but said he should take her. Had her husband said so, I should have been in an awkward position. I asked if they had seen her sister and obtained her consent, as they had said they would do. They replied that they had not seen her. I told them that the body had been placed in my charge for the night, and I should not give it up until her sister had consented; that when any thing, be it a horse or a trunk, was left in my possession, I expected to care for it until the one who placed it with me called for it; that I had waited three hours for them to come, and they had not done so, and that they had not been to see her sister, as they had promised to do; that if they would go and see her sister, and gain her consent, I would willingly give it up. I appealed to the physician, then present, and temporarily in charge of the agency, for protection. He had been here only about six weeks, and was at first a little afraid that they would take it out during the night. But I was not afraid of that. Such an act would kill their religion, and Billy Clams had been in jail too much to dare to advise such an act. I told them I should not unlock the church to let them see her unless they promised to let her remain. They at last consented to all my propositions. Had I yielded then I would have gained great enmity from all of our side, who had been at much expense to put her propperly in the coffin, and would have made no friends on the other side. They promised to bring her sister down the next morning and settle it. The next morning Billy Clams came alone, and when I asked if all were soon coming, he replied that it was all settled; that they had talked with her sister some the previous night, and also on that morning; that her sister’s words had been very fierce, and that they had concluded, since the body was in the church, it was not best to take it out, and that I should have complete control of the funeral; that they would not come to the church if I did not wish them to do so, but that they would wait on the road to the grave until the services were done, for they would like to go to the grave, if I had no objections. I replied that I was glad of their decision, and that I would be very glad to have them all attend the services in the church. They all came; were very cordial to our side. Some of them took especial pains to cross themselves and shake hands with my children and myself. We all went to the grave together; her son made presents to all there: and the first battle was fought and won by our Great Captain.
XXVI.
THE VICTORY.
BUT although cast down, they were not destroyed. I was a little surprised to see how strongly they still clung to their religion. They returned to their camp, held their services often from six o’clock until twelve at night, shook by the hour, lit candles and placed them on their heads and danced around with them thus, sang loud enough to be heard for miles away, acted much like Indian doctors, only they professed to try to get rid of sins instead of sickness, and so acted that in the physician’s opinion it was likely to make some of them crazy. When Ellen was first taken sick I had more than half-expected that she would die, for I believed that Providence would take away one of their number before their eyes would be open enough to see the foolishness of it—but I hoped that one death would be enough. In the meantime the agent made us a flying visit, and made some threats of what he might do if the foolishness was not stopped. As long as it was purely a Catholic church he felt that he had no right to interfere, but now the Catholic ceremonies were a very small part, merely like a thin spreading of butter over something else, and he knew that if a Catholic priest had charge he would have locked them up very quickly. He proposed to visit us again about the middle of October, and spread a report that if they did not stop he might depose the chiefs and banish Billy Clams. He had the right to do the latter, because, when Billy Clams had returned to the reservation a few years previous, after having resided at Port Madison for quite a time, he was allowed to come only on promise of good behavior. His misdeeds were not to be forgotten, but only laid on a shelf for future reference, if required. But this threat apparently did not frighten them. The chiefs did not care if they were deposed, were about ready to resign, and did not wish to have any thing more to do with the “Boston” religion or the agent. Billy Clams was ready, if need be, to suffer as Christ did: he was willing to be a martyr.
The agent came, as he had promised to do, and spent eight days with us. He first took time to look over affairs quite thoroughly, and felt a little afraid to begin the contest, fearing that it would do more injury to fight them than to let them severely alone. But at last he decided that when so many of the Indians who were trying to do right were calling for help in the battle, and that since he would thus have quite a strong Indian influence to support him, it was not right or wise for him to refuse their appeal. He first sent for the two chiefs. They came, putting on quite a show of courage. He talked to them quite strongly, and they resigned. It was better for the agent that they should do so, than that he should depose them, and they preferred to do so, in order that they could say to the rest of the Indians that they did not care. But the tide was turning. As soon as they had resigned the other Indians did not spare them, but ridiculed them until they became very crestfallen. On the Sabbath the agent told all the Indians that he wished them to come to church. They did so, and he talked to them on the religious aspect of the affair as far as was proper on that day. The next day he held a council. He did not threaten Billy Clams, but told him how there had always been trouble where Indians had tried to have two religions at the same place; how in order to prevent this trouble the government, eleven years previous, assigned different agencies to different denominations, and he advised him to return to Port Madison, from which he had come, where the Indians were all Catholics, if he wished to be one. He made a long speech, as strong as he could, on the subject, told them that the shaking part of the religion must be stopped on the reservation, and appointed new chiefs, on whom he could depend, to see that this order was enforced. They were conquered, and consulted what was best to do. They all agreed to abandon the shaking part of the so-called religion. A part were in favor of keeping up the purely Catholic religion, but the tide had turned too much for this. Other Indians had overcome their fears and talked strongly, and at last they decided to abandon every thing in connection with their services. The first that I knew of this decision was that Billy Clams came to me and told me of this decision, and said that his set were now without any religion, and that if I would go and teach them they would be glad to have me do so, but if not, they should go without any services. I replied that I would gladly teach them, and went that evening to hold a service with them. There were two young men in the band who had long been in school. These now took hold well, read to their friends from the Bible, made and taught them new songs, and the victory was gained.
XXVII.
RECONSTRUCTION.
STILL the process of reconstruction was slow. The wounds which had been made were deep, and distrust reigned between the two parties for a time. Although conquered, all were not converted, and some of them at times longed for the flesh-pots of Egypt. Two things gave much opportunity for gossip during the following winter. The business of logging had gone down and the Indians had little to do. Also, during the previous summer, the chiefs had not attended to their proper business, and had let a number of crimes go unpunished, especially drunkenness, and the new board of chiefs had so many to punish that it created considerable feeling. At first the shakers took hold well in our meetings, as well as if they were one with us. But a child of one of them was taken fatally sick, and while nothing could be proved, yet there was evidence enough to convince most of the Indians and whites that there was a little shaking among them, and then the other Indians lost confidence in their sincerity and did not longer want them as leaders of religion, and so they dropped into the common ranks.
A slightly new element also kept affairs disturbed. It was Big John. At the time of the big meeting in August he was present and was attacked with the shaking as badly as any one. His wife belonged in that region, and so he did not return to the reservation with the other Indians, and was not here when the victory over them was obtained. He went to Mud Bay and set up a party of his own, and he carried the shaking farther than the originators had done. He even out-Heroded Herod. He claimed to be Christ, a claim which was allowed him by his followers, and at the head of about seventy-five of them he rode through the streets of Olympia with his hands outstretched as Christ was when crucified. After the conquest had been made at Skokomish, he was ordered by the agent to return home, as he was creating so much trouble among other Indians under Agent Eells. But he was slow to obey. He came once in November, when he was so attacked in regard to his claims of being Christ by the school-teacher and the Indians, that he gave up this claim and said he was only a prophet. As he had not brought his wife with him, he returned to her, and it was not until several orders had been given for him to come home, and policemen had gone for him more than once, that he came. His orders then were to remain on the reservation, and stop shaking. He remained here for a time, but kept up a quiet kind of shaking more or less of the time. At last he left the reservation and went back without permission. He was again brought home and locked up for about four weeks. This conquered him, and he made but little further trouble, and this pretty effectually killed the return of any on the reservation to shaking.
Three of the shaking set have now been admitted to the church, after six and nine months’ probation.
Off of the reservation this shaking spread. It took almost entire possession of the Indians on the Chehalis Reservation, and entered the school in such a way that the agent and school-teacher there felt obliged to stop it by force, or allow the school to be broken up.
At Squaxon there were no government employees and it was not possible to put a complete stop to it there, so it was allowed to have its own way more. Their great prophecy has been that the world would come to an end on the Fourth of July, 1884, but, although they assembled and held a big meeting, and waited for the expected result, it did not come, and so their faith has been somewhat shaken, although now they have extended the time one year. Going to various places to obtain work has also broken them into very small parties, and also occupied them, so that at present it seems to be dying.
XXVIII.
JOHN FOSTER PALMER.
HE was born near Port Townsend, about 1847, and belonged to the now extinct tribe of the Chemakums. His father died when he was very young, through the effects of intemperance, and also many others of his relations, and this made him a bitter opponent of drinking.
When ten years old he went to live with the family of Mr. James Seavey, of Port Townsend, and went with them in 1859 to San Francisco, where he remained for a year or two. He then embarked on a sailing-vessel, and spent most of the time until 1863 or 1864 near the mouth of the Amoor River, in Asiatic Russia. Returning then to Puget Sound, he served under the government at the Neah Bay Reservation for a time, but about 1868 he came to the Skokomish Reservation, where he ever afterward made his home, serving as interpreter a large share of the time, eight years under Agent Eells.
He understood four Indian languages: the
JOHN F PALMER.
Twana, Nisqually, Clallam, and Chinook jargon, also the Russian and English, and could read and write English quite well. He had a library worth fifty dollars, and took several newspapers and magazines, both Eastern and Western, although he only went to school two or three weeks in his life. To Mr. Seavey’s family, and the captain’s wife on the vessel when in Russian waters, he always felt grateful for his education.
When the church was organized at Skokomish, 1874, he united with it, being the first Indian to do so. He lived to see twenty others unite with it. On two points he was very firm: against intemperance and the heathen superstitions: being far in advance of any member of the tribe on the latter point, with the exception of M. F., soon to be mentioned—in fact, it was truly said of him, that he was more of a white man than an Indian.
He loved the prayer-meeting, and while temporarily living at Seabeck, a short time before his death, where he was at work, thirty miles from home, he returned to Skokomish to spend the holidays, and remained an additional week so that he might be present at the daily meetings of the Week of Prayer. He constantly took part in the prayer-meetings, and with the other older male members of the church took his turn in leading them.
He had no children of his own, but brought up his wife’s two sisters. When he united with the church, he said: “Now I want my wife to become a Christian,” and he lived to see her and her two sisters unite with the church. The elder of them married, and her child, Leila Spar, was the first Indian child who received the rite of infant baptism, July 4, 1880. He was killed instantly at Seabeck, February 2, 1881, while at work at the saw-mill, having been accidentally knocked off from a platform, and striking on his head among short sharp-cornered refuse lumber and slabs about ten feet below. The side of his head was crushed in, and after he was picked up he never spoke, and only breathed a few times. He was far in advance of his tribe, and has left an influence which will be felt for many years to come. It was a pleasure once for me to hear a rough, swearing white man, in speaking of him, say: “John Palmer is a gentleman!”
MILTON FISHER.
XXIX.
M——F——.
HE was a full-blooded Twana Indian, but from his earliest infancy lived with his step-father, who was a white man. A part of the time he lived very near to the reservation, and afterward about thirty miles from it. The region where he lived was entirely destitute of schools and church privileges. His step-father, however, when he realized that the responsibility of the moral and Christian training of his children rested wholly upon himself, took up the work quite well. His own early religious training, which had been as seed long buried, now came back to him, and he gave his children some good instruction which had excellent effect on M. Still when he was twenty-two years of age he had never been to church, school, Sabbath-school, or a prayer-meeting. He was a steady, industrious young man, had learned to farm, log, build boats,—being of a mechanical turn of mind,—and had built for himself a good sloop. When he was twenty-one he had learned something of the value of an education from his lack of it, for he could barely read and write in a very slow way, and was tired of counting his fingers when he traded and attended to business. Therefore he saved his money until he had about two hundred dollars, and when he was twenty-two he requested the privilege of coming to the reservation and going to school. It was granted, not like other Indian children, for they were boarded and clothed at government expense, but because his step-father was a white man he was required to board and clothe himself, his tuition being free. He willingly did his part. This was a little after New Year’s, 1877. He improved his time better than any person who has ever been in school, oftentimes studying very late. Thus he spent three winters at school, working at his home during the summers.
A few days before he left for home at the close of his first winter was our communion season. On the Thursday evening previous was our preparatory lecture and church-meeting, and the man and his wife where he was boarding presented themselves as candidates for admission. Nothing, however, was said him about it. Indeed it is doubtful whether much had ever been said to him personally on the subject, for he was of a quiet disposition. But a day or two afterward he spoke to the family where he was boarding and said that he would like to join the church, but had been almost afraid to ask. The word was soon passed to my father, and the first I knew about it was that he came to me and said: “See, here is water, what doth hinder me from being baptized?” I said: “What do you mean by that?” His reply was: “I do not know but that we have just such a case among us.” And then he explained about M. Another church-meeting was held and he was received into the church on the following Sabbath. Previous to this he had never witnessed a baptism or the administration of the Lord’s Supper.
When he had finished going to school, he received in 1879 the appointment of government carpenter on the reservation, the first Indian ever in that place, and the first Indian employee on the reservation except the interpreter receiving the same wages as a white man. He remained in this position a few years, when his health failed and he resigned. No fault was found with his work, for he was very faithful and steady, and could be depended on to work alone, or to be in charge of apprentices and others with no fear that the work would be slighted. He afterward, for a time, lived mainly with the whites, as the government cut down the pay for all Indians so low that he could earn much better wages elsewhere. He often lived with a very rough class of whites at saw-mills and among loggers, but he held fast to his profession. In his quiet way he spoke many an effectual word for Christ, and gained the respect of those with whom he mingled by his consistent Christian life. Lately, however, he has gone to the Puyallup Reservation, where he has secured a good piece of land and has taken a leading part among those Indians.
XXX.
DISCOURAGING CASES AND DISAPPOINTMENTS.
F. A. was a Clallam, and one of the earlier school-boys. He had left the reservation previous to 1874 and lived and worked with his friends at Port Discovery. In April, 1875, he returned with three of his Port Discovery friends on a visit in good style. He said that he had worked steadily, earned hundreds of dollars, and he gave a brother of his in school quite a sum; that he had taught a small Indian school; that he was trying to have church services on the Sabbath; that the Indians at Port Discovery were about to buy some land for one hundred and fifty dollars; and that he had now come for advice, religious instruction, school-books, and the like. The agent furnished him with school-books and papers, and I gave him four written prayers, two Chinook-jargon songs, and a Testament. This was only a week after Balch and some of the Indians at Jamestown had visited us, who were making good progress. One of the employees on seeing F. A. come, just after the other (Clallam) Indians had visited us, said: “The agent is making his influence felt far and wide for good.” But before F. A. left he wanted to be made head chief of the tribe. The agent said that the present chief was doing well, that he had no good reason for removing him, and that he would not do so unless a majority of the tribe desired it, but that he would make F. A. a policeman if he wished so to be. But he did not want this. He said that after what he had told his friends before leaving home, he would be ashamed to go back without his being made chief. His three friends said also that they wished him to be chief. This showed that something was wrong, and by the time all was ferreted out, it was found that he had procured the horses for his party at Olympia at a high price, which he had said the agent would pay, that his style was all put on, and that in reality he was very worthless. It cost his friends more than twenty dollars to pay for the use of the horses, which he had afterward to work out, as he had no money. He tried to run away with one of the girls not long afterward, and never said any thing more about his school, church, and land. In 1883 he returned to the reservation to live, but does not help the Indians much in regard to Christianity.
L. was from Port Ludlow, fifty-five miles away, a half-breed, and was in school for a year or two. In the fall of 1879 he took hold well in prayer-meetings, and wished to join the church; but he was too desirous for this, it seemed to me, and answered questions too readily. The church deliberated long about him, for several were not fully satisfied, yet, on the whole, it was thought best to receive him, and it was done in January, 1880. The next summer he went home to remain, but while in most respects he has been steady and industrious, having a good reputation about not drinking or gambling, yet he does not honor a Christian profession.
M. was a half-breed school-boy, and was brought up in school. After the first three school-boys began to think that they were Christians, he joined them. After having been a year on probation, he was received into the church in July, 1878, when he was thirteen or fourteen years old. He did fairly until he left the reservation, three or four years afterward, when he went to a white logging-camp where his brother and brother-in-law were at work. Logging-camps are not noted for their morals, and their influence on a young man can not be good in this respect. He remained steadier than most whites around him, and his instruction is not lost, but his Christian life is sadly dwarfed, if it can be seen at all.
W. was among the first three of the school-boys to join the church, after a full year’s probation, at the age of about thirteen. He stood well for about two years, while in school, as a Christian, endured considerable persecution, and was especially conscientious. But as he grew older he went the wrong way. His father was a medicine-man, and this probably had something to do with his life, for when he went out into the outer Indian world he seemed to grow peculiarly hardened, so that he seldom came to church or Sabbath-school, and did not treat religion with the respect which the older Indians did who made no pretensions to Christianity. For immoral conduct we were at last obliged to suspend him.
As I look over the church-roll I find that nearly all the first Indian members were from the school; then came the earlier uneducated Indians, and then the later ones. It makes me sad when I see how many of the first ones who have been educated have been suspended before they were settled in life. Yet it must be said that those school children prepared the way for the earlier uneducated Indians, and these likewise prepared the way for the later ones. This second class watching the failures of the first learned wisdom and stood firmer, and the last class learning more wisdom by further observation have stood still firmer.
Simon Peter was one of the better Indian boys of the Twanas, and was in school about as soon as he was old enough. A younger brother, Andrew, was one of the first three of the school-boys to join us in January, 1877, and, like the brothers in the Bible, where Andrew first found Christ and then led his brother Simon to him, so now Andrew evidently led Simon along until, in January, 1878, he joined the church. He belonged to a good family and was well respected and I hoped much from him in the future, but in this I was doomed to disappointment, for consumption had marked him as its own, and in June, 1879, he died. Just before he died he took his brother’s hand, said he hoped this brother would not turn back from Christianity as some boys had done, and thus held him till he died. A young man of the Puyallup tribe, who is now an Indian preacher, told me that he owed his conversion to a letter he received from Simon Peter. Thus, “being dead, he yet speaketh.”
XXXI.
THE CHURCH AT JAMESTOWN.
IN the section about the Field and Work some account has been given of the beginning of civilization at this place. The Indians there had at first no help from the government, because they were not on a reservation. They had, however, some worthy aspirations, and realized that if they should rise at all they must do so largely through their own efforts. This has been an advantage to them, for they have become more self-reliant than those on the reservation, who have been too willing to be carried.
The agent, on some of his first visits to them, gave them some religious instruction, and at times they gathered together on the Sabbath for some kind of religious worship, which then consisted mainly in singing a song or two and talking together.
In March, 1875, their chief, Lord James Balch, while on a business visit to the reservation, was very anxious to obtain religious instruction. All was given to him that I could furnish, which consisted of instruction, a Chinook song or two, and a few Bible pictures. He returned with more earnestness to hold meetings at home.
My first visit to them was the next fall, in a tour with the agent, and then their village was named Jamestown, after their chief. Since then I have generally been able to spend two Sabbaths, twice a year, with them.
They continued their meetings, and usually met in one of their best houses for church on the Sabbath. After a time they selected one of their number, called Cook House Billy, to pray in their church services, as he had lived for some time in a white family, could talk English, and knew at least more about the external forms of worship than the rest.
In 1877 the Indians began to think about erecting a church-building for themselves. They originated the idea, but it was heartily seconded by the agent and missionary. About the time of its dedication Balch said it was no white man who suggested the idea of building it to him, but he thought it must have been Jesus. It was so far completed by April, 1878, as to be dedicated on the eighth of that month.
About a hundred and twenty-five persons were seated in the house: ninety Clallams, ten Makah Indians, and twenty-five whites. The house is small, sixteen by twenty-four feet. It was made of upright boards, battened and whitewashed. It was ceiled and painted overhead. It was not quite done, for it was afterward clothed and papered and a belfry built in front, but was so far finished as to be used. Although not large or quite finished, yet there were three good things about it: it was built according to their means, was paid for as far as it was finished, and was the first church-building in the county. Its total cost at that time, including their work, was about a hundred and sixty-six dollars. Of this, thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents were given by white persons, mostly on the reservation, four dollars were given by Twana Indians, and some articles, as paint, lime, nails, windows, and door, came from their government annuities, it being their desire that these things should be given for this purpose rather than to themselves personally. It was the first white building in the village, and had the effect of making them whitewash other houses afterward.
The evening before the dedication the first prayer-meeting ever among them was held. Five Indians took part, most or all of whom were accustomed to ask a blessing at their meals. This prayer-meeting has never since been suffered to die.
It was not, however, until the next December that any of them became members of the church. Then two men joined. They really united with the church at Skokomish, although they were received at Jamestown. For a time this became a branch of the Skokomish church. The first communion service was then held among them. Only five persons in all participated in the communion.
No more of those Indians joined until April, 1880, when four more became members, two of whom were Indians, and the next December two more joined.
A rather singular incident happened a year later. Some of the older Indians, including the chief, were not satisfied with the slow growth of the church; but instead of remedying affairs by coming out boldly for Christ, they chose three young men, who were believed to be moral at least, and asked them to join and help the cause along. These consented, although they had never taken any part in religious services or been known as Christians. As I was not informed of the wish until Sabbath morning, I did not think it wise to receive them then, but replied that if they held out well until my next visit, in five months, I should have no objection. They were hardly willing at first to wait so long, but at last submitted. Before the five months had passed, one of them, the least intelligent, had gone back to his old ways, where he still remains, and the other two were received into the church, one of whom has done especially well and has been superintendent of the Sabbath-school. Yet it always seemed a singular way of becoming Christians, more as if made so by others than of their own free will, they simply consenting to the wishes of others. God works in various ways.
During the winter of 1880-81 a medicine-man made a feast on Sabbath evening and invited all the Indians to it. It was to be, however, a bait for a large amount of tamahnous, which was to take place. The Indians went, the members of the church as well as the rest, leaving the evening service in order to attend it. The school-teacher felt very badly and wrote me immediately about it; but a little later he learned that on that same evening the Christian Indians, feeling that they were doing wrong, left the place before the feast was over, went to one of their houses, where they held a prayer-meeting and confessed their sin, and on the following Thursday evening, at the general prayer-meeting made a public confession. We could ask for nothing more, but could thank the Holy Spirit for inclining them thus to do before any white person had spoken to them about it.
Knowing of four new ones who wished to join the church in April, 1882, I thought that the time had come to organize them into a church by themselves. So letters were granted by the Skokomish church to seven who lived at Jamestown, and the church was organized April 30, 1882, with eleven members, nine of whom were Indians. The services were in such a babel of languages that their order is here given: Singing in Clallam and then in English; reading of the Scriptures in English; prayer by Rev. H. C. Minckler, of the Methodist-Episcopal church, the school-teacher; singing in Clallam; preaching in Chinook, translated into Clallam; singing in Chinook; baptism of an infant son of a white church member in English; prayer in English; singing in English; propounding the articles of faith and covenant in English, translated into Clallam, together with the baptism of four adults; giving of the right hand of fellowship, in English, translated into Clallam; prayer in Chinook; singing in Chinook; talk previous to the distribution of the bread, in Chinook, translated into Clallam; prayer in English; distribution of the bread; talk in English; prayer in Chinook, followed by the distribution of the cup; singing in English a hymn in which nearly all the Indians could join; benediction in Chinook. A number of their white neighbors gathered in, to the encouragement of the Indians, six of whom communed with us.
The next fall three more joined, and seven more in 1883, one of whom was a venerable white-haired white man, over seventy years old. In the fall of that year five infants were baptized, the first belonging to the Indians in the history of the church.
In the fall of 1883 three of them accompanied me on a missionary tour to Clallam Bay. They gave their time, a week, and the American Missionary Association paid their expenses. It was the first work of the kind which they had done, and I was pleased with their earnestness and zeal. The previous spring I had been there, and there were some things which made me feel as if such a trip might do good. Still it is a hard field because a majority of the men are over fifty, and, being in the majority, practise and sing tamahnous, and go to potlatches a good share of the time during the winter. There is very little white religious influence near them.
When the day-school first began, in 1878, the teacher, Mr. J. W. Blakeslee, began also a Sabbath-school. His successor, Rev. H. C. Minckler, carried it on until he resigned in April, 1883, and no other teacher was procured until early in 1884; but then they chose one of their own church members, Mr. George D. Howell, who had been to school some, and still carried on the school. He served until November, when he temporarily left to obtain work, and Mr. Howard Chubbs was chosen as his successor.
In 1880 they procured a small church-bell, the first in the county, and added a belfry to the church.
Not all, however, of the people in the village can be called adherents to Christianity. There is a plain division among them. Some are members of the church, a few who are not attend church, and some hardly ever go, but profess to belong to the anti-Christian party.
It is worthy of note that while Clallam County had so many people in it as to be organized into a county in 1854, and had in 1880 nearly six hundred white people, yet these Indians have the only church building in the county, the only church-bell, hold the only regular prayer-meeting, and at their church and on the Neah Bay Indian Reservation are the only Sabbath-schools which are kept up steadily summer and winter. One white person, who lives not far from Jamestown, said to me on one Sabbath, in 1880, as we came away from the church: “It is a shame, it is a shame! that the Indians here are going ahead of the whites in religious affairs. It is a wonder how they are advancing, considering the example around them.”
XXXII.
COOK HOUSE BILLY.
HE will always be known by this name, probably, though on the church roll his name is written as William House Cook. He is a Clallam Indian, of Jamestown. His early life was wild and dissipated, he being, like all the rest of his tribe, addicted to drunkenness. At one time, when he was living at Port Discovery, he became quite drunk. He was on the opposite side of the bay from the mill, and, wishing for more whiskey, he started across in a canoe for it; but he was so drunk that he had not gone far before he upset his canoe, and had it not been for his wife, who was on shore and went to his rescue, he would have been drowned.
In his early life he mingled much with the whites. He lived with a good white family some of the time; worked in a cook-house at a saw-mill for a time, where he gained his name; and once went to San Francisco in a ship. Thus he learned to speak English quite well, and he knew more about civilized ways, and even of religion, than any of the older Indians at Jamestown. He entered willingly into the plan to buy land, and soon after the people there first began to hold some kind of services on the Sabbath, they selected him as the one to pray, hardly because he was better than all the rest, though he was better than all with two or three exceptions, but because he had been more with the whites, and knew better how to pray. Soon after this, and long before he joined the church, a report, which was probably true, was in circulation that he had once or twice secretly drank some. Thereupon the chief took him and talked strongly to him about it. The chief did not wish him to be minister to his people if he was likely to do in that way, and at last asked him if he thought he had a strong enough mind to be a Christian for one year. The reply was, Yes. Then the questions were successively asked if he was strong enough to last two years, five years, ten years, all his life, and when he said Yes, he was allowed to resume his duties as leader of religion.
After this he remained so consistent that he was one of the first two in Jamestown to unite with the church, in December, 1878, when he was supposed to be about thirty-three years old. The road supervisor in his district sent his receipt for road taxes to him one year, addressing it to Rev. Cook House Billy.
When the church was organized at Jamestown in 1882, he was unanimously elected as deacon, and he has ever since filled that position.
Once, five or six years ago, when in Seattle, he was asked by a Catholic Indian of his own tribe, belonging to Port Gamble, to drink some whiskey, but he declined. When urged time and again to do so he still refused, giving as his excuse that he belonged to the church. “So do I,” said his tempter “but we drink, and then we can easily get the priest to pardon us by paying him a little money.” “That is not the way we do in our church,” said Billy.
But afterward, two years ago, he was very strongly tempted, and yielded, while at Seattle. It was known, and soon after his return home he made his acknowledgement to the church. On my next visit to them in the fall he was reprimanded, and suspended as deacon for five weeks. He often spoke of this fall of his, and seemed to be very sincere in his repentance. In 1883, just before he and nearly all the Indians of his village were going to Seattle again, either to fish or on their way to pick hops, he sent me a letter in which was written: “One day I was talking in meeting to them and said I hoped they would none of them follow my example last summer about drinking, for I had never got over it. I feel ashamed and feel bad every time I think about it, and hoped none of them would have occasion to feel as I did.”
He is of a bright, sunny disposition, always cheerful, and has done more for school and church than any of the rest of his tribe, unless it may be the head chief, Balch. Sometimes he has boarded three children free of cost, so that they might go to school, whose parents, if alive, lived far away.
In 1881 two of his children died, a fact of which the opponents of religion made use against Christianity, and he was severely tried, but he stood firm. In 1883, with two others, he went to Clallam Bay with me to preach the gospel to those Indians, the first actual missionary work done by either Indian church. When he left his wife was sick but, as he had promised to go, she would not keep him back, and he was willing to trust her with God. When we returned she was well.
His wife is a true helpmeet to him. She did not join the church for a year and a half after he did; but he afterward said that she was really ahead of him, and urged him to begin and to stand fast. When I examined her for reception into the church, I noticed one expression of hers which I shall always remember. In speaking of her sorrow for her sins, she said that her “heart cried” about them. An expression was in use, which I also often used, that our hearts should be sick because of our sins; but I had never used her expression, which was deeper. She is the foremost among the women to take part in meeting, often beseeching them with tears to turn into the Christian path.
XXXIII.
LORD JAMES BALCH.
A FEW years previous to the appointment of Agent Eells, in 1871, this person was made head chief of the Clallams, although, until about 1873, he could get drunk and fight as well as any Indian. At that time he took the lead in the progress for civilization near Dunginess, as related in 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.
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-tokhu.
Ku-kwa-chin-is-hi-a tokhu.
Ho-hi-a-tsan-u-tok-hu.
Tsā-ā-ting-tsin-no-tokhu.
U-tsā-it-tokhu.
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 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.