Miss Isabel B. Eustis, in giving an account of the revival meetings at Hampton, writes as follows of the Indians:
Meanwhile at one end of the chapel there sat a company of one hundred who took no part in the service. The Indian students watched with wondering and wistful eyes the scenes around them. “Pass me not, O Gentle Saviour,” they sang often in their own services during these days, and the Lord heard their cry and turned aside and called them too. Stago, our fiery little Apache boy, heard his voice, and set hard to work to conquer his temper and self-will. The quick-witted, ambitious, head-strong girl, whose influence over the other scholars we dreaded, listened, and her hard expression softened, and the stubborn will yielded, and with gentleness and humility she met the daily requirements which had often roused her rebellious spirit before. Shallow natures grew earnest and proud, and we knew that there was one walking with the Indian students too who could purify and inspire and help.
On Wednesday evening our senior Indian boy, of his own accord, left his class and took his seat with the other Indian scholars. Waiting his opportunity, he rose and called the attention of the school to those who sat behind him. He reminded me of the darkness out of which they had come, and of the dangers to which they must return. He told us that they longed for a share in the blessing God was giving the school, and asked our patience while they prayed to the Father, and spoke of Him in a language we could not understand.
Kamnach rose first. Kamnach came to the school four years ago, directly from his wild Indian life. His hair was uncut; he wore Indian clothes; he had been always familiar with scenes of bloodshed, and placed little value on human life. After three years he went back to his home, a changed man we thought in appearance and heart. But it was hard to stand among his savage comrades. He plead to come back to school. He was a happy boy, when, less than a year ago, he placed his foot again on Hampton soil. Poor boy! he had yet to learn that always his worst temptations would come from his own distorted heart. Some misunderstanding of his position as a returned student, some distrust of those who were over him, and he fell into passionate hatred, and was ready to commit a deliberate and deadly crime. We thought his repentance would be quick and deep, but not so. The first Sunday of the new year, the anniversary of the day on which he confessed Christ, he had no heart to meet the Lord, whose first command was to love and forgive. But the passing Saviour’s voice reached him now. He stood before the crowded school, and with the help of an interpreter acknowledged his sin, and renewed his allegiance to the Saviour, and begged the Indian students to follow the Lord Jesus, though they would find many things in His religion hard to understand and difficult to do.
After Kamnach’s confession a Sioux boy made a prayer. He spoke in another tongue, but more than one felt his heart was lifted to the Father’s heart by the earnestness and pathos of the stranger’s voice. Another tried to speak in broken English. Missing the words he wanted to say, waiting and struggling for confession, he acknowledged Jesus Christ as the Saviour of his soul. Our hearts were knit together in love. We knew that we belonged to one common family and nothing could separate from the love of Christ. Evidently the son of God who came to save the lost finds nothing in the Indian nature he cannot soften and subdue. Evidently the Indian is able to place his confidence in such a Saviour and yield himself in glad obedience to Him.
CHILDREN’S PAGE.
