Oowikapun, or, How the Gospel reached the Nelson River Indians

by Egerton Ryerson Young

As he entered the gathering assembly it was evident to all that his quick, eager eyes were on the lookout for some special friend.

Not long had he to look. Astumastao and her aunt had come in from another wigwam, and were not very far behind him, and so were able to see how eagerly he was scanning the faces of those who had already assembled. So absorbed was he in scanning those in front that the noiseless moccasined feet of others coming in behind him were unheeded.

For a moment Astumastao watched his wistful, eager looks, and well divining the meaning, with flushed and radiant face she advanced toward him and cordially exclaimed: “My brave Oowikapun!” Startled, overjoyed, and utterly unconscious or careless of the hundreds of bright eyes that were on him, he seized the extended hands, and drawing her toward him, he imprinted upon her brow a kiss of genuine and devoted love, and exclaimed: “My own Astumastao!”

Tucking her arm in his as he had lately seen the white Christians do, he proudly marched with her up to a prominent place in the audience, where they seated themselves, while the aunt for the present judiciously looked out for herself.

It was a very picturesque assembly. Indians dress in an endless variety of fashions. Some in their native costumes looked as statuesque and beautiful as the ancient Greeks; others as ridiculous as a modern fop.

All, however, were interested and filled with suppressed excitement. The first hour was spent in singing and prayer and in reading the word of God, or, as the Indians love to call it, the book of heaven.

Then the Indians who had come from Norway House with the missionary, and who were earnest Christians, told of how they had found the Saviour. Very clear and definite are many of the Christian Indians on this point. And as Paul loved to talk about how the Lord Jesus had met him while on the way to Damascus, so it was with many of these happy converted red men; they love to talk of their conversion.

To the great joy of the missionary, Oowikapun asked for the privilege of saying a few words. At first he seemed to falter a little, but soon he rose above all fear, and most blessedly and convincingly did he talk. We need not go over it again; it was the story of his life, as it has been recorded in these chapters. Because of the words and resolves of Astumastao, he said, he had gone for the missionary; and from this man, and from Memotas and others, he had found the way of faith in the Son of God. Now he was trusting in him with a sweet belief that even he, Oowikapun, was a child of God like these other happy Christians who had spoken.

After such an hour of preliminary services it was surely easy for that missionary to preach. He took as his text the sixteenth verse of the third chapter of Saint John’s gospel. This is how it reads in Cree, which we give, that our readers may see what this beautiful language looks like:

“Aspeecke saketat Kesa-Maneto askeeyou kah ke ooche maket oopay ye-koo-sah-ke aweyit katapua yaye mah kwa akah keche nese-wah nah-tee-sit maka kacke at ayaky ka-ke-ka pimatissewin.”