"April 20.—After breakfast two men entered the house, and stood just within the door. Looking at me, one of them shouted out, 'Woah shimauket, woah shimauket, woah shimauket, woah.' After repeating this twice, they went away. This was an invitation from a chief who wanted me and my crew to breakfast with him. I took two of my party, and set off. When I was entering the chief's house, he stood up, and, beckoning me to a seat, cried out loudly, 'Yeah shimauket, yeah shimauket, yeah shimauket, yeah.' As soon as I was seated, he stopped, and sat down. These words, rendered into English, are, 'Welcome chief, welcome chief, welcome chief, welcome!' We feasted on boiled salmon, and rice, and sugar, and molasses, after which the chief presented me with five marten skins and a large salmon. When I returned to Kahdoonahah's house, he had got three large iron kettles on the fire for the feast; and I was informed that an old chief had given me a large black bear's skin. The drum began to beat, and a general bustle prevailed around me. I sat down to collect my thoughts, and to lift up my heart to God to prepare me for the important meeting about to take place, at which the blessed Gospel was to be proclaimed to these poor tribes of Indians for the first time.
"About twelve o'clock they began to assemble. Each took a place corresponding to his rank. We soon mustered about sixty chiefs and headmen. Between one and two p.m. we began to feast, which consisted, as usual, of salmon and rice, and molasses. I had heard Kahdoonahah say that they intended to perform before me their 'Ahlied;' but I requested him to have no playing, as I wanted to speak very solemnly to them. He promised me they would do nothing bad; but now that the feasting was over, much to my sorrow, he put on his dancing mask and robes. The leading singers stepped out, and soon all were engaged in a spirited chant. They kept excellent time by clapping their hands and beating a drum. (I found out afterwards that they had been singing my praises and asking me to pity them and to do them good.) The chief Kahdoonahah danced with all his might during the singing. He wore a cap, which had a mask in front, set with mother-of-pearl, and trimmed with porcupine's quills. The quills enabled him to hold a quantity of white bird's down on the top of his head, which he ejected while dancing, by jerking his head forward: thus he soon appeared as if in a shower of snow. In the middle of the dance a man approached me with a handful of down, and blew it over my head, thus symbolically uniting me in friendship with all the chiefs present, and the tribes they severally represented.
"After the dance and singing were over, I felt exceedingly anxious about addressing them; but circumstances seemed so unfavourable on account of the excitement, that my heart began to sink. What made the matter worse, too, was a chief, who had lately been shot in the arm for overstepping his rank, began talking very passionately. This aroused me. I saw at once that I must speak, or probably the meeting might conclude in confusion. I stood up, and requested them to cease talking, as I wished them to rest their hearts, and listen to the great message I had come to deliver. Instantly the chief ceased talking, and every countenance became fixed attentively towards me. I began, and the Lord helped me much. I was enabled to speak with more freedom and animation than I had ever done before in the Indian tongue. Much to my encouragement the Indians unanimously responded at the finish of every clause. The most solemn occasion of this kind was when I introduced the name of the Saviour. At once every tongue uttered Jesus, and, for some time, kept repeating that blessed name, which I hope they will not forget.'
"After I had finished my address I asked them to declare to me their thoughts upon what they had heard, and also if they desired to be further instructed in God's word. Immediately a universal cry arose of, 'Good is your speech. Good, good, good news! We greatly desire to learn the book. We wish our children to learn.'"
In the autumn of the same year, Mr. Duncan again visited the Nass River, and ascended to the upper villages. Everywhere he found a readiness, sometimes most touchingly expressed, to receive Christian instruction. At one interesting gathering, a Nishkah chief named Agwilakkah. after hearing the Gospel message for the first time, stood up before all, stretched forth his hands towards heaven, and lifting up his eyes, solemnly said:—
"Pity us, Great Father in heaven, pity us! Give us Thy good! book to do us good and clear away our sins. This chief [pointing to Mr. Duncan] has come to tell us about Thee. It is good, Great Father. We want to hear. Who ever came to tell our fathers Thy will? No, no. But this chief has pitied us and come. He has Thy book. We will hear. We will receive Thy word. We will obey."
Four years, however, passed away before regular Missionary operations could be extended to the Nass River. In 1864, a Christian Tsimshean, travelling up the river as a fur-trader, told the Indians he met with of the Saviour he had himself found, and on his return to the coast seven young men of the Nishkah tribe accompanied him, that they might visit Metlakahtla and hear the Missionary for themselves. They stayed there for a few days, listening eagerly to Mr. Duncan's instructions. When they left, they begged for some fragment of God's Word to take back to their tribe; and Mr. Duncan wrote out for each, on a piece of paper, the words in Tsimshean, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."
In this case the living voice was not long in following the written message. On July 2nd, 1864, the Rev. R. R. A. Doolan arrived at Metlakahtla from England, and, at Mr. Duncan's suggestion, he at once went on to the Nass River to establish a permanent Mission.
With prayerful energy the young Missionary, inexperienced and ignorant of the language, flung himself into the conflict with heathenism. A sore conflict it was. Ardent spirits had come up the river; drunkenness was fast spreading among the Indians; and quarrelling and murders were of frequent occurrence. On one occasion, after a whisky feast, the Indians on opposite sides of the river set to work firing across the stream at one another, in pure wantonness. Several were wounded, women as well as men; and next day Mr. Doolan was called upon to attend to their injuries. Again and again was his own life in imminent danger. One day an Indian rushed out of a hut he was passing, gun in hand, and fired at him twice. Both times the gun missed fire! "I was so close to him," wrote Mr. Doolan, "that I saw the fire from the flint."
If Divine providence was thus exhibited in the preservation of the missionary's life, Divine grace was soon to be not less signally manifested in a blessing on his labours. A boy named Tacomash was the first fruits gathered in. He and another boy came from a village twenty -five miles off to live at the Mission-house, and attend school. After a few weeks he went home to see his father, and was attacked with bronchitis. Mr. Doolan, hearing of this, hastened off to see him. "The journey," he says, "was a most painful one. I wore two pairs of mocassins, but the ice soon cut through both. I was ten hours walking the twenty-five miles. I found the poor lad very weak, and suffering much. He had steadfastly resisted the medicine-men from rattling over him, saying God would be angry with him if he allowed them." Tacomash got better, and returned to the station; and shortly after Mr. Doolan writes, "To-day I was rejoiced to hear Tacomash praying to God. He was among the trees, and did not know anyone heard him. He asked Jesus to pity him, and make his heart strong." Soon, however, the lad became ill again, and died trusting in the Saviour. On his death-bed he was baptized at his own earnest desire, and named Samuel Walker.