THE INDIANS.
VISIT TO PARK STREET CHURCH STATION.
BY MRS. T.L. RIGGS.
For a long time I have wished to see something of the people and of the work at White River. The station there, Park Street Church Station, so-called because the church of that name in Boston contributed the money for its establishment, was almost the only one under Mr. Riggs's care that I had not visited. Although the supervision of it, and of the whole Rosebud Agency field, has recently been assumed by Mr. Cross, Mr. Riggs continues to confer with him in regard to the management of it, and for this purpose made a journey thither a few weeks ago. A happy combination of circumstances at home made it possible for me to accompany him.
After three days of travel in pony-cart, we came in sight of the White River, and before descending into the valley and crossing the river caught a glimpse of the station building and the villages on the hills near it. Climbing the hill at the rear of the station, we drove into the yard, completely surprising Mr. Cross, who, nevertheless gave us a most hearty welcome.
As soon as the news of our arrival had spread, we began to have visitors, but, knowing that I should not see many of the people, especially the older women, unless I went to their homes, I arranged with Mr. Cross to take me to the different villages. We spent two days in going about.
I should think there are between forty and fifty houses in the three villages near there. In each of two houses, we found three wives and ten children, and the others were well populated. All were in ignorance, and filth, and degradation, pitiable to see. Some babies nearly a year old had never been thoroughly washed since their birth. Some of the older people had never been to the school-house. A few rather pride themselves upon keeping aloof from the native teacher and the various exercises he conducts. We were pleasantly received at all the places. Some of the people had heard of "The Sacred Herald's" wife, though they had never seen me.
Wishing to have all the women come to the school-house, that I might see more of them and have them meet Virginia De Coteau, the teacher's wife, we invited them to a feast. This is something the Dakotas are very fond of, though usually it is connected with some of their dances or other heathen customs. Some of the old women wished to know if I was going to preach to them, evidently wanting to fight shy of anything of this sort, but I told them no, it was to be a real feast, not a prayer meeting.
Mr. Cross entered heartily into the preparations for the festivity. We made about five gallons of coffee and the same quantity of stew, consisting of meat, onions, turnips, beans, rice and crackers, with the gravy well thickened—a very savory mess it was, too. We had crackers to pass around. Not a very elaborate menu, but one which appealed strongly to the Dakota taste.