Hunter. Yes. For, though he recovered from the disease, he could not bear up against the loss of his wives and his children. They all died before his eyes, and he piled them together in his lodge, and covered them with robes. His braves and his warriors died, and life had no charms for him; for who was to share with him his joy or his grief? He retired from his wigwam, and fasted six days, lamenting the destruction of his tribe. He then crawled back to his own lodge, laid himself by his dead family, covered himself with a robe, and died like an Indian chief. This is a melancholy picture; and when I first heard of the terrible event, I could have wept.
Austin. It was indeed a terrible affair. Have they no good doctors among the Indians now? Why do they not send for doctors who know how to cure the small-pox, instead of those juggling mystery men?
Hunter. Many attempts have been made to introduce vaccination among the tribes; but their jealousy and want of confidence in white men, who have so much wronged them, and their attachment to their own customs and superstitions, have prevented those attempts from being very successful.
Austin. Who was the first missionary who went among the Indians?
Hunter. I believe the first Indian missionary was John Eliot. More than two hundred years ago, a body of pious Englishmen left their native land, because they were not allowed peaceably to serve God according to their consciences. They landed in America, having obtained a grant of land there. They are sometimes called “Puritans,” and sometimes “the Pilgrim Fathers.” It is certain, that, whatever were their peculiarities, and by whatever names they were known, the fear of God and the love of mankind animated their hearts.
These men did not seize the possessions of the Indians, because they had arms and skill to use them. But they entered into a treaty with them for the purchase of their lands, and paid them what they were satisfied to receive. It is true, that what the white man gave in exchange was of little value to him. But the Indians prized trinkets more than they would gold and silver, and they only wanted hunting and fishing grounds for their own use. These early colonists, seeing that the Indians were living in idleness, cruelty and superstition, were desirous to instruct them in useful arts, and still more in the fear of the Lord; and John Eliot, who had left England to join his religious friends in America, was the first Protestant missionary among the Indians.
Austin. I wonder he was not afraid of going among them.
Hunter. He that truly fears God has no need to fear danger in the path of duty. John Eliot had three good motives that girded his loins and strengthened his heart: the first, was the glory of God, in the conversion of the poor Indians; the second, was his love of mankind, and pity for such as were ignorant of true religion; and the third, was his desire that the promise of his friends to spread the gospel among the Indians should be fulfilled. It was no light task that he had undertaken, as I will prove to you. I dare say, that you have not quite forgotten all the long names that I gave you.
Austin. I remember your telling us of them; and I suppose they are the longest words in the world.
Hunter. I will now give you two words in one of the languages that John Eliot had to learn, and then, perhaps, you will alter your opinion. The first of them is noorromantammoonkanunonnash, which means, “our loves;” and the second, or “our questions,” is kummogokdonattoottammoctiteaongannunnonash.