Snak-wee-multh, or Old Sam, was a native of Vancouver Island, though in his boyhood he had been seized in one of the many slave raids and carried away to the far north, where he remained for years, until he had forgotten his own language, but never lost his love or longing for the old home of his youth. Long after middle life he found his way back to his own tribe, but never recovered the fluent use of his own tongue.
In youth he was trained in heathenism, and afterwards acquired a knowledge of the still more savage customs and heathen practices of the north people. He was first in all dark deeds and in the heathen dance among his people; and as he had many new tricks of savage life to show them, which he had learned while a slave, the dancers looked upon him as a kind of demi-god, for, as they said, “he had so much power, he could do more wonderful feats than any one of them.”
Sam kept on this way until he became very sick, and as he lay on his sick bed I visited him, and had the joy of pointing him to Jesus.
During this sickness he several times begged me to give him some medicine to make him sleep. He said he wanted it so strong that he would not wake up again. He said he had heard the white man had this medicine, and if he could only take some it would be so good of me to give it to him. Again and again did he beg for a sleeping-powder.
I told him I could not give him that kind of medicine, but if he would only give his heart to Jesus he would then be happy all the time. I kept up my visits regularly, carrying him simple foods from day to day. Finally the light came in upon his dark mind, and oh, what a change! How he would thank me and praise God for the comfort he had in his heart!
For years he had been very fond of tobacco, and, like most of the Indians, had used so much of it that no one could come near him without noticing the dreadful effects of it. Everything seemed to be saturated with the smell of tobacco, and he would use it the last thing before going to bed and the first thing in the morning. After he was converted he had a dream. He dreamed that One grand and pure sat by his side and said, “You would have been lost if it had not been for your wife”—she had helped him to the light—and the pure One went on to say, “You will have to stop the use of tobacco, for if you get up to the shining gate, and the great and pure One smells any tobacco on you, He will send you away, as no one can go into that happy place who smells of that stuff; it is not so much different to rum and whiskey, so stop it or else you will be lost.”
Poor Sam had a great struggle, but he got the victory. And finally, after months of sickness, when he was sinking rapidly, he told us that “with a clean mouth, and not with the smell of dirty tobacco, he was going home to heaven, washed in the blood of the Lamb, and had no doubt of a welcome in the skies.”
And so, from that heathen house, with an earthen floor, a poor cot, and heathen surroundings, the scene of many a weird heathen dance and much bloodshed, Old Sam passed away to the mansions above. Oh, the power of the blood of Jesus! A slave, a poor dark pagan, saved—a saint, a king!
An Indian Class-Leader.
Shee-at-ston was a native of the Songees tribe of Indians, who lived opposite the City of Victoria, B.C. He was born about the year 1855. He was a high caste Indian, in the line of succession from Chee-at-luk (old King Free-zee), the hereditary chief of that district.