The friendly feelings of all present were then conveyed to them by several who addressed them in turn, expressing their deep anxiety for their worldly welfare and their spiritual good, and in the kindest and most impressive language exhorted them to temperance, to a knowledge of our Saviour, and to the blessings of education, which lead to it. They impressed upon their minds also the benefits that would flow from the abandonment of their hunters’ life and warfare, and the adoption of agricultural pursuits. It was then stated that it was the object of the meeting to make them a present of something more than mere professions of friendship, and desired of me to ascertain what would be most useful and acceptable to them. The question being put to them, the White Cloud replied that “anything they felt disposed to give they would accept with thankfulness, but, as the question had been asked, he should say that money would be preferable to anything else, for it was more easily carried, and when in America, and near their own country, they could buy with it what their wives and little children should most need.” It was then proposed that a hat should be passed around, for the purpose, by which the sum of 40l. was received, and handed to the chief, to divide between them. Besides this very liberal donation, a number of beautifully-bound Bibles were presented to them, and several very kind and lovely ladies went to the shops, and returned with beautiful shawls and other useful presents for the women and children; and one benevolent gentleman, who had been of the meeting, and whose name I regret that I have forgotten, brought in with his own hands, a large trunk filled with pretty and useful things, which he took pleasure in dividing amongst them, and in presenting the trunk to the wife of the chief.
Thus ended this very kind and interesting meeting, which the Indians will never forget, and which went far to strengthen their former belief that the “good people,” as they called them, would be everywhere found to be their genuine friends.
Their invitation to the Zoological Gardens was for the day following, and they were there highly entertained by the young men who were the founders of that institution. They met in those peculiarly beautiful grounds a great number of the fashionable ladies and gentlemen of Dublin; and, after an hour or two delightfully spent amongst them, received from the treasurer of the institution the sum of 36l., that had been taken at the entrance. Nothing could have been more gratefully received than were these two kind presents; nor could anything have afforded them more convincing proofs of the hospitality and kindness of the people they were amongst.
The exhibitions at the Rotunda were continued on every evening, and the Indians took their daily ride at ten o’clock in the morning, seeing all that was to be seen in the streets and the suburbs of Dublin, and after their suppers and their chickabobboo enjoyed their jokes and their pipe, whilst they were making their remarks upon the occurrences of the day, and listening to Daniel’s readings of the ‘Times’ newspaper, to which the Chemokemon[37] (as they now called him), Jim, had become a subscriber. This boundless source of information and amusement, just now opened to their minds, was engrossing much of their time; and Daniel and Jeffrey were called upon regularly every night, after their suppers, to tell them all that was new and curious in the paper of the day; and Jim desired a daily entry in his book of the number of murders and robberies that appeared in it. All this Daniel, in his kindness, did for him, after reading the description of them; and in this way the ingenious Jim considered he had all things now in good train to enable him to enlighten the Indian races when he should get back to the prairies of his own country.
Poor Jim, whose avarice began to dawn with his first steps towards civilization, and who, having his wife with him to add her share of presents to his, and was now getting such an accumulation of Bibles that they were becoming a serious item of luggage, related here a curious anecdote that occurred while he was in the Zoological Gardens:— The Bibles they had received, and were daily receiving, as “the most valuable presents that could be made them,” he had supposed must of course have some considerable intrinsic value; and he felt disposed, as he was now increasing his expenses, by taking the ‘Times’ newspaper and in other ways, to try the experiment of occasionally selling one of his bibles to increase his funds, and, on starting to go to the gardens, had put one in his pouch to offer to people he should meet in the crowd; and it seems he offered it in many cases, but nobody would buy, but one had been given to him by a lady; so he came home with one more than he took; and he said to us, “I guess em no good—I no sell em, but I get em a heap.”
A very friendly invitation was received about this time from the President of Trinity College for the party to visit that noble institution, and Mr. Melody and myself took great pleasure in accompanying them there. They were treated there with the greatest possible kindness; and, after being shown through all its parts—its library, museum, &c.—a liberal collection was made for them amongst the reverend gentlemen and their families, and presented to them a few days afterwards.
I took the War-chief and several of the party to visit the Archbishop of Dublin and his family, who treated them with much kindness, and presented to each a sovereign, as an evidence of the attachment they felt for them. This unexpected kindness called upon them for some expression of thanks in return; and the War-chief, after offering his hand to the Archbishop, said to him:—
“My friend, as the Great Spirit has moved your heart to be kind to us, I rise up to thank Him first, and then to tell you how thankful we feel to you for what your hand has given us. We are poor, and do not deserve this; but we will keep it, and it will buy food and clothing for our little children.
“My friend, we are soon going from here, and we live a great way. We shall never see your face again in this world, but we shall hope that the Great Spirit will allow us to meet in the world that is before us, and where you and I must soon go.”
The Archbishop seemed much struck with his remarks; and, taking him again by the hand, said to him that he believed they would meet again in the world to come, and, commending them to the care of the Great Spirit, bade them an affectionate farewell.