“June 15.
“Mr. Riggs reached home two weeks ago, and last Monday he left again for Big Stone Lake, accompanied by Mr. Hopkins of Traverse des Sioux. They have gone hoping for opportunities to proclaim the Word of God to the Sioux in that region.”
“Sept. 2, 1850.
“Last evening, hearing Thomas cry after he had gone to rest, I went to the chamber. Alfred was teaching him to say, ‘Now I lay me,’ and the sentence, ‘If I should die,’ distressed him very much. I soothed him by asking God to keep him through the night. He has never seen a corpse, but, a few weeks ago, he saw Mrs. Antoine Renville buried, and he has seen dead birds and chickens. He said, ‘What is to die, mamma?’ and evidently felt that it was something very incomprehensible and dreadful. I felt a difficulty in explaining it, and I wished to soothe the animal excitement, and not lessen the serious state of mind he manifested. I think I will tell him more about Jesus’ death—his burial and resurrection. It is this that has illumined the grave. It is faith in Him who has conquered ‘him that had the power of death,’ which will give us the victory over every fear.”
With an increased missionary force, we hoped to see large results within the next few years. There was progress made, but not so much as we hoped for. In fact, it was chiefly apparent in “strengthening the things that remain.” Just before this enlargement, Mr. S. W. Pond had separated from his brother, and formed a station at Shakopee, or Six’s Village, which he called Prairieville. After a while, little churches were organized at Kaposia, Oak Grove, Prairieville, and Traverse des Sioux. At Lac-qui-parle the numbers in the church were somewhat increased. We began to have more young men in the church, and they began to separate themselves more and more from the village, and to build cabins and make fields for themselves. Thus the religion of Christ worked to disintegrate heathenism.
The summer of 1851 came, which brought great changes, and prepared the way for others. It was one of the very wet summers in Minnesota, when the streams were flooded all the summer through. In making our trip for provisions in the spring, we were detained at the crossing of one stream for almost a whole week. In the latter part of June, the Indians from all along the upper part of the Minnesota were called down to Traverse des Sioux, to meet commissioners of the government. They were obliged to swim at many places. The Minnesota was very high, spreading its waters over all the low bottom contiguous to the mission premises. Governor Ramsay and Commissioner Lea were there for the government. General Sibley and the fur-traders generally were present, with a large number of the Wahpaton and Sisseton Sioux.
The Fourth of July was to be celebrated grandly, and Mr. Hopkins had consented to take a part in the celebration, but the Lord disposed otherwise. In the early morning, Mr. Hopkins went to bathe in the overflow of the river. When the family breakfast was ready he had not returned. He was sought for, and his clothes alone were found. He had gone up through the flood of water. It was supposed that, unintentionally, he had waded in beyond his depth, and, as he could not swim, was unable again to reach the land.
This was the second great sorrow that came, in the same way, to the mission band of Traverse des Sioux. It threw a pall over the festivities of the day. The Indians said again the Oonktehe—their Neptune—was angry and had taken the wechasta wakan. But the mission families were enabled to say, “It is the Lord.” When the body floated it was caught in fishing nets, and carefully taken up and buried by the “Oaks of Weeping.” Mr. Hopkins did not live to see much matured fruit of his labors, but he had put in eight years of good, honest work for the Master, among the Dakotas, and he has his reward.
The Treaty was made, which, with one consummated immediately after, at Mendota, with the Lower Sioux, conveyed to the white people all their land in Minnesota, except a reserve on the upper part of the river. These treaties had an important bearing on our mission work and on all the eastern Dakotas.
The messenger who brought word to us at Lac-qui-parle of the sudden death of our brother, Robert Hopkins, brought also to me a pressing invitation from the commission to attend the making of the Treaty. I at once mounted a pony and rode down. It gave me an opportunity of seeing the inside of Indian treaties. On my return, I was in advance of the Indians, and, coming to the Chippewa alone, I found no way of crossing its swollen tide but by swimming. In the middle of the stream, my horse turned over backward, and we went down to the bottom together. He soon, however, righted himself, and I came up by his side, with one hand holding his mane. I remember well the feeling I had when in the deep waters, that my horse would take me out. And I was not disappointed. This event has ever since been to me a lesson of trust. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”