Chapter Eleven.
Sowing and reaping—Beautiful incident—“Help me to be a Christian!”—Thirty years between the sowing and the reaping—Sorrowing, yet stubborn, Indians induced to yield by the expression, “I know where your children are!”
While in our every-day missionary life there were dark hours, and times when our faith was severely tried, there was, on the other hand, much to encourage us to persevere in the blessed work among these Cree Indians.
An incident that occurred to us brought up very forcibly to our minds the couplet:
“Whate’er may die and be forgot,
Work done for God, it dieth not.”
I was sitting, one pleasant day in June, in my study at Norway House, absorbed in my work, when I was startled by a loud “Ahem!” behind me. I quickly sprang up, and, turning round, discovered that the man who had thus suddenly interrupted me in my thoughts was a big, stalwart Indian. He had come into the room in that catlike way in which nearly all of the Indians move. Their moccasined feet make no sound, and so it is quite possible for even scores of them to come into the house unheard. Then, as Indians have a great dislike to knocking, they generally omit it altogether, and unceremoniously enter, as this man had done, and as quietly as possible.
My first glance at him told me that he was an entire stranger, although I had by this time become acquainted with some hundreds of the natives. I shook hands with him and said a few commonplace things to him, to which I thought he paid but little heed.
I pointed to a chair, and asked him to be seated; but, instead of doing so, he came up close to me and said with great earnestness: “Missionary, will you help me to be a Christian?”
Surprised and pleased by this abrupt question, I replied, “Certainly I will; that is my business here.”