At Astumastao’s request Oowikapun told Memotas of his wonderful dream, and of the deep impression it had made upon him. Memotas listened to its recital with the deepest interest, and stated what many others have said, that they believed that still, as in ancient times, the good Spirit in loving compassion speaks in dreams to help or warn those who have not yet received enough of the divine revelation to be completely guided by it. At his feet sat those two happy converts, and, as did many others, learned from his rich testimony many blessed truths.
Happy Memotas; only a little while longer did he tarry with us. A little additional cold was all that was needed to finish the work in a constitution so nearly shattered. When he felt it assailing him there came very clearly to him the presentiment that the end was near. And never did a weary traveller welcome his home and bed of rest with greater delight than did Memotas welcome the grave and the bliss beyond.
The prospect of getting to heaven seemed so glorious that he could hardly think of anything else. This was now his one absorbing thought.
Like all the rest of these Northern Indians, he was very poor, and had nothing in his home for food of his own but fish. But there were loving hearts at the mission house, and so willing hands carried supplies as needed to his little habitation.
On one occasion, when that dear, good missionary, Reverend John Semmens, who had gone with me, as together we had lovingly supplied his wants, said to him: “Now, beloved Memotas, can we do anything else for you? Do you want anything more?”
“O, no,” replied Memotas; “I want nothing but Christ. More of Christ.”
When we administered to him the emblems of the broken body and spilt blood of the dear Redeemer, he was much affected, and exclaimed, “My precious Saviour. I shall soon see him.”
Seeing his intense longing to go sweeping through the gates of the celestial city, I said to him: “Memotas, my brother beloved, why are you so anxious to leave us? I hope you will be spared to us a little longer. We need you in the Church and in the village. We want your presence, your example, your prayers.”
He was a little perplexed at first, and seemed hardly to know how to answer. Then he looked up at me so chidingly, and gave me the answer that outweighs all arguments: “I want to go home.”
And home he went, gloriously and triumphantly. His face was so radiant and shining that it seemed to us as though the heavenly gates had swung back, and from the glory land some of its brightness had come flashing down, and had so illumined the poor body that still held in its faltering grasp the precious soul, that we could almost imagine that mortal itself was putting on immortality. The triumphant death of Memotas was not only a revelation and a benediction to Oowikapun and Astumastao, and many other Christian Indians, but it caused the full and complete surrender of many hard, stubborn hearts to Christ.