MISSION HOME, FORT SULLY.
An abrupt descent from such an outlook brought us to the valley beneath, through which the remaining eight miles of our ride lay. We had only fairly entered the valley when we began to see evidences of the faithful mission work which has here been done. For several miles along the river we were constantly passing the farms of mission Indians, where we saw established homes, quite as good as those of their white neighbors. We saw full-blooded Indians in civilized dress, riding their mowing-machines, raking their hay, and stacking their grain.
Rev. Thomas Riggs was away from home at the bedside of his venerable father in Beloit, but we were most kindly received by the lady missionaries in charge, Misses Collins and Irvine. The mission home into which we were ushered, is a long, tastefully-built log-house, standing sidewise to the road, having in front two bay windows, with porch between, and in the rear a large lean-to attachment for kitchen and laundry. The yard is beautiful with flowers and plants, and hallowed by a little inner enclosure which holds the sacred dust of Mrs. Riggs. (Shown in the picture just to the left of the home.) The large mission garden would be famous in any neighborhood. It is a sermon in vegetables and small fruits, well cultivated and highly productive. Just east of the home is the little chapel, a building capable of seating from 150 to 200 persons, having ceiled walls, and seated with chairs; having a neat pulpit and a good cabinet organ.
The interior of the home is most inviting. The spacious sitting-room has little of luxury; everything, however, is most cheery. The walls are ceiled and adorned with pictures. The bay window is beautiful with plants and vines and birds. A Steinway piano is at one end of the room, statuettes here and there, and books everywhere. During the twenty-four hours of our stay, our party wandered at liberty over the grounds, visited the chapel, were received by the Indians in their homes, and in the large room just described were several times entertained by their singing while their teachers led on the piano. No honest enemy of Indian missions could see and hear what we saw and heard, without a change of heart. Time and again we were melted to tears.
Our visit was entirely unexpected, so nothing could be “gotten up” for our benefit. We were the better pleased that it should be so. Everything was impromptu and natural.
The climax came unexpectedly just as we were about to go the next morning. While two of the brethren were hitching the horses a party of Indian women and two little boys, who with their baskets were about to pass the door, were called in by Miss Collins. They hesitated, and through their teacher apologized for their appearance, explaining that they had just started on a berrying trip. One of the men, who had come on some errand, was also invited in. Then Miss Irvine led on the piano and they all sang from open hymn books, one after another of the sweet gospel hymns which we could recognize only by the tunes. As they sang
“Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so,”