THE year 1882 was a sad one for us, and we felt compelled to ask the Society to allow us to return to England for a few months. The rule of the Society was, at that time, for a missionary working in Canada to remain ten years in the field before taking his first furlough, but as ours was an exceptional case, the Committee readily acceded to our request. My father died about fifteen months after I first left England, and my wife's brother died a few months after we were married. There were no further changes in our families until 1882, when a letter reached us by the monthly packet from my wife's mother, telling her that her father had died from bronchitis on the 12th January, 1882. No news had reached us previously that he had showed signs of ill-health. We at once wrote to my wife's mother telling her that we would ask the Society to allow us to visit England that autumn. The next mail that arrived brought us the sad news of my mother-in-law's death, which took place on 13th February, 1882. The following mail brought us a letter from some friends, saying my wife's sister was lying ill in the hospital, and the next mail told us she was dead! She died on 19th April, 1882. This was the last member of my wife's family, and, like myself, she was practically alone in the world!
We left our Mission the early part of August with our five-year-old daughter, and when we arrived at Carlton, our nearest Post Office, we met the letter we had sent to my wife's mother returned to us, marked "unknown," from which it is evident that before our letter reached England all her friends had passed away: that not one of them received a line from us to help soften their dying pillows.
From what I learned on arrival in England, our experience was probably unique among missionaries of our Society. Our home-coming was, therefore, a sad one; it was as though we were strangers in our own homeland, as though we came to our own, and our own knew us not! But, notwithstanding being destitute of near relatives, we found many warmhearted friends who took a deep interest in us, being linked together through the friendship of the One true mutual Friend, in whose service we were engaged when our sorrows came upon us, and we thus realised the truth of His promise that, those who suffer apparent loss for His Sake, shall be blessed a hundredfold.
Words fail to express the kindness we received from many friends--friends not only for the time being, but who, in after years, showed their abiding interest in us by their affectionate care of our child when we left her behind at school in England.
At the time the succession of sorrowful news reached us in the mission field, we were isolated from white people, our nearest neighbours being fifty miles away.
Before leaving the Mission on furlough, the Bishop at my suggestion allowed David to be left in charge, and soon after my return he was received into Emmanuel College to study for the office of a perpetual deacon, and between terms he used to return to Sandy Lake, work with me and continue his reading under my guidance. In due course he was ordained, and spent some time working among the heathen who had a reserve south of Prince Albert.
As all the Indians at Sandy Lake were now professing Christians, it was thought that my work there was finished, and that I should move on to the regions beyond, leaving David in charge of the work which he had so materially helped to build up. But, although man proposes it is God that disposes, and David was called home by death before the changes took place, and I continued at Sandy Lake until 1888.
In the meantime two events took place which must claim our attention for some time, as all the circumstances connected therewith cannot be told in a few lines.
The first was the rebellion of 1885, the leader of which was Louis Riel. It will be remembered that this same person was the leading figure in the Red River Rebellion, which took place at Winnipeg in the years 1869 and 1870, and which necessitated the expedition of British soldiers, who went out under the command of Garnet Wolseley. As soon as the troops approached Old Fort Garry, which the rebels had taken from the H.B. Company, and had made their head-quarters, the rebellion simply fizzled out, for, as the advance guard marched into the fort by the front gates, Riel and a few of his chief lieutenants escaped through the back of the compound, and made their way successfully to the boundary line, and entered the American territory, where they remained as outlaws for fifteen years, Riel spending most of his time in Montana.
I read recently in the leading Canadian magazine, published in this country, a statement to the effect that Riel was captured and executed as the result of Wolseley's expedition, but this is false, as the above statement shows, and which will be further proved as we proceed.
Towards the end of 1884, the half-breed population, particularly the French, living in the Saskatchewan, showed signs of uneasiness. There were two causes for their unrest, one was the way Government contracts were let in the country, and the other was the delay on the part of the Government in issuing scrip to those of native origin, and born in the country previous to, and living at the time of the Transfer, 1870, when the Government of Canada took over the whole of the country formerly held by the H.B. Company and previously known as "Rupert's Land." When these natives saw the influx of settlers and the officers of the law patrolling the country, they considered these realities a bit too premature, seeing their rightful claims had not yet been acknowledged, and they feared the best parts of the country would fall into the possession of the immigrants and large corporations before they had a chance of locating their scrip.
Meetings were held in the neighbourhood of Duck Lake and Prince Albert to discuss the best policy to pursue in order to bring pressure to bear upon the Government. In the first place petitions were drawn up and sent to Ottawa, but these it was thought were treated too lightly by the authorities. Finally, it was decided at a meeting composed of French, English and Scotch half-breeds, to send a deputation to search for Riel, and bring him back into the country to champion their cause for them. This was done, and Riel returned with the deputation, and soon public meetings were the order of the day. The agitation became rife, and not only did the English and Scotch half-breeds encourage the French to persevere in what they afterwards called Constitutional agitation, but many of the leading citizens of Prince Albert showed great sympathy with the agitation--insomuch that it was difficult for a non-interested party to decide who were most interested, those who considered themselves entitled to scrip, or those who had no such claim, but who hoped ultimately to get possession of it!
This general sympathy with the cause shown at every public meeting held in different parts of the Saskatchewan completely turned the heads of Riel and a few of his old co-patriots at the game, and they began to take more drastic measures. They employed men to go stealthily among the Indians to try and incite them to rebel; so that by their combined efforts they might recapture the Saskatchewan country, and be in a position to make a, better bargain for the Indians with the Government than was made at the treaty in 1876. One such agent spent the early part of the winter among the French half-breeds a few miles north of Sandy Lake, and was constantly appealing to the Indians as well as the half-breeds to join issue with them. Neither I nor the Chief discovered this secret until a few days before he returned to the rebel camp. In the meantime a special petition was sent to Ottawa by a gentleman well known and, up to that time, trusted by all the half-breeds in the country, and all waited patiently his return. When the time drew near, all the French half-breeds and a number of Indians, more or less heathen, though supposed to be under the influence of the priests, gathered at the crossing on the South Saskatchewan to receive the answer to their petition. When the bearer arrived, unfortunately, he spake unadvisedly with his lips, and his words acted like oil on fire, and in a few days the country was all ablaze with anger, fear, and excitement. If I remember rightly, the same day as the message was received, the French took the Indian agent and other employees of the Government and imprisoned them in a dark cellar, where they were kept for days without any light, fresh air or conveniences of any kind. They also cut the telegraph wires, and took possession of the flour mill and general store at Duck Lake. Of course by this time the English and Scotch element were not "in it," as the Americans would say, and it is now they sheltered themselves under the term "constitutional agitation"; but they must, or ought to have known, how dangerous it was to associate themselves with such a firebrand as Louis Riel. I personally believe if the parties already referred to had not encouraged Riel and his followers by their patronage at the outset as they did, the agitation would never have reached the stage of open rebellion.
Having gone so far the French became very active, and runners were dispatched all over the country, and in order to impress the ignorant Indians and half-breeds with his own importance and make them believe that he was what he represented himself to be, viz., a man sent by God to make them the free possessors of their country again, Riel told them that on a certain day, quite near, the sun would undergo an eclipse, and if this came to pass they were to take it as a sign from Heaven that their cause was from God, but if it did not take place they were to regard his statement as false and act accordingly. Of course anyone who possessed an almanac as Riel did could have predicted the same event, but there were not many among the class of people he was dealing with at the time who could read an almanac, even if they had possessed one, and so it came to pass as he predicted and the sun underwent an eclipse. This was enough! and all the Indians for many miles round took up the cause with zeal, believing that they had the favour of the Great Spirit in doing so. It is not my desire or intention to write a detailed account of what took place after this, but I will condense my own sentiments in these few words, viz., that impatience, and liquor, were the sole cause of the disaster that followed!
A few days before what is recorded above took place, the officer in charge of the R.N.W.M. Police, stationed at Carlton, sent for Big Child and Star Blanket to find out which party would have their sympathies in the event of open hostilities, and the answer they gave the officer was: they did not want to be compelled to shoot down their own flesh and blood, and nothing would induce them to point a gun at their white brothers--meaning that they wished to be allowed to remain neutral. This was satisfactory to the officer, and they were told to return to their reserves and go about their work in the usual way, as the police force would provide them with ample protection, being situated between them and the rebel camp. As soon as the chiefs returned home, taking one of my Indians, I started for Prince Albert via Fort Carlton; I took luncheon with the military at Carlton, and the meal being over, the officer in charge said he was sorry he could not spare me half an hour for a chat, as they were very busy making preparations for a contingent they were expecting from Battleford. I noticed that cord-wood was being piled up very high around the fort and that every one seemed busy, but not a word was said to me about any definite action having been taken by the rebels. We camped on the roadside that night about twenty miles east of Carlton, and the next day about noon we reached the outskirts of Prince Albert when we noticed a crowd of people standing on the road opposite the only gunsmith's shop there was in the place, having their guns repaired, etc. As soon as I was recognised they wanted to know where I had come from, and when I said from Carlton, they asked me question after question about the rebels, and how I had managed to get past the forks of the road (a road that leaves the Carlton and Prince Albert trail for the French Settlement) as they understood the French patrols had taken possession of all the thoroughfares in the district, and when I told them that we neither saw nor heard of any one guarding the roads we passed, neither I nor the Indian believed any of the information they possessed was true. They then asked me where we had passed the previous night, and if we did not hear horsemen riding past us during the night? I asked them if any one had ridden past us during the night and how they knew it. They then told us about the doings of the half-breeds at Duck Lake, of which the reader has already been informed, and that the police had ridden to the town during the night to ask for volunteers to go to Carlton to assist the police. In a few minutes any doubts we had entertained about the genuineness of their story were removed by the appearance of sleighloads of men, the wealthiest and the pick of Prince Albert, armed to the teeth, on their way to Carlton. It appears that whilst I and my Indian were jogging along as unconcernedly as possible during the afternoon we left Carlton, and sleeping contentedly through the night on the bare ground with only the canopy of heaven above us--the disturbances mentioned above were taking place. My Bishop hearing I was in town sent for me at once, and questioned me about the truth or otherwise of a report that was already current in the place, viz., that all my Indians at Sandy Lake and elsewhere had joined the rebels. I assured his lordship that not only was the report false but that, three days ago when I left my mission, the news of hostilities having begun had not reached us. The Bishop then said: "No doubt by this time they will have heard and agitators will be busy among them, so I advise you to get back as soon as you can and try to persuade them not to take up arms, nor commit any unlawful acts." I told the Bishop of the Chief's interview with the officer of the Mounted Police, and the result, and knowing my people as I did I felt quite sure they would remain loyal. Notwithstanding this, the Bishop insisted on my returning home in the morning, Sunday though it was.
The next question was, how were we to get home--to return by way of Carlton was out of the question, as by this time the French and Indians had scouts all over that part of the country. The only alternative was to cross the river at Prince Albert and find our way as best we could across country. There was a fairly well-defined trail as far as Sturgeon Lake, but beyond that the country was untravelled and strange to us, and the ground being covered with a foot of frozen snow, our progress was very tedious to us and trying to the horses. We reached home eventually, and, as I expected, we were the first to break the news to the Indians that actual hostilities had begun.
No one however seemed disturbed, as they felt secure under the promised protection of the military authorities at Carlton. A few days passed by without any further news of what was taking place, when about midnight on the following Saturday, some one was heard knocking at our door, and on going down to see what was wanted, I found it was a messenger from the Indian agent at Carlton, with instructions which, though definite, were unsatisfactory. They were these. A battle had taken place between the rebels and the combined forces near Carlton, that the fort had been burnt to the ground, and the police and volunteers were leaving for Prince Albert, and could give us no further protection from Carlton, and we were advised to leave the Mission without delay, and make our way to Prince Albert as best we could.
We naturally inferred that the rebels had captured the fort and rased it to the ground, whereas the destruction of the fort was said to have been an accident, caused by the upsetting of a lighted paraffin lamp. I told the messenger to tell the Chief that we would have a public meeting at 6 a.m. to decide what had best be done. Personally, I could not sleep again that night, and wanted to get up and begin getting a few things together in readiness for the journey, but my wife would not consent to any such arrangement. She said, "No one has any grudge against us, and I do not believe we are in any danger of being molested; anyway we may as well make the most of this night's rest we can, in case we do not get another for some time"; and so we remained in bed, but I did not sleep again. A little before 6 o'clock, the Chief sent an Indian over to see if we were ready to start. "Start," I said, "we haven't had the meeting yet." He said, "We understood the messenger to say we were to start at 6 a.m., and so we have been packing up and preparing through the night, and the teams are already on the road."
There was therefore no time for further delay, and whilst I was doing what I thought was best for the cattle, etc., and harnessing up my team of ponies, Mrs. Hines, having dressed herself and our little daughter, put some provisions in a box and threw out some blankets which I stowed away in the sleigh and we followed after the Indians.
We did not overtake them until about 9 a.m., when, what a sight we beheld! There were about sixty double and single sleighs loaded up with women and children, and such of their belongings as they could take with them. Being all together, we halted for breakfast, when to our dismay, we discovered we had not brought with us a cup, or plate, or knife and fork, or even a kettle to boil water in, so we had to borrow these articles from among our Indians. We were joined by Big Child's band later on in the day, and we halted for the night at the junction of the Snake Plain Creek and the Shell River, but, just as we had retired, three Indians from a reserve a few miles south-west of Snake Plain known as Muskeg Lake reserve, and Roman Catholics, came into our encampment with what proved to be a lying report, viz., that the rebels had crossed the Saskatchewan River at Carlton, and were on their way out in force to compel all the Indians north of the river to join their ranks. Their band, they said, had escaped to the Thickwood mountain to hide, and they themselves had come over to warn us to flee to Prince Albert with all the speed possible. The result was that we had to get up, reload our sleighs and travel on through the night, and about daybreak, we reached a place which is about halfway between Sandy Lake and Prince Albert. This place was afterwards named by the Indians Ne-pa-tu-kwa-moo-win, to signify our arrival through the night in a sleepy condition. We afterwards found out that the three men who brought us the report had been sent by their band to hasten our flight so as to put a wider space between us and the Mission, in order that the course might be clear for them to make a raid on our property left behind, as the rebels referred to, neither then nor afterwards, crossed the North Saskatchewan River.
We were four days before we reached a convenient place for such a large encampment, the place was about eight miles from Prince Albert and is called the "Round Plain." When we camped the first night we made another unpleasant discovery, viz., that in our haste we had forgotten to bring a tent with us, so for five consecutive nights we slept on the snow under the shelter of a willow bush, with only a cart cover thrown over it to shelter us from th" wind. The snow was quite a foot deep at the time, and at night there was quite twenty degrees of frost. The first thing the Indians did after our arrival at Round Plain, was to inaugurate and equip with guns and mounts, a number of young men to return to the Mission, and drive all our domestic animals from the reserve to the place where we were camped so that the Indians might be better able to keep guard over them. On their arrival at the Mission the young men found the Muskeg Lake and other Indians going quietly through our premises, robbing our hen roosts of all they contained, and taking everything that was useful to them out of our houses, such as clothing, bed linen, food, and cooking utensils. As soon as the marauders caught sight of our young men they fled away, but not before their identity was thoroughly established. One of my calves was found dead in the stable from starvation, the door having blown to and shut it off from access to its mother.
Every other horned animal belonging to the Mission and the band was found and brought safely into camp. I lent my horse to the native school teacher to ride on this occasion, and the same horse was ridden by the scout to whom the renowned chief, Big Bear, surrendered himself some ten weeks later. The next thing was to take my family into the town of Prince Albert to get them shelter, as we had no tent for use. The chiefs went into town with me and reported themselves to the police, and arrangements were made to ration the whole of the Indians until such time as they could with safety return to their homes. It was thought at the time that the rebellion would be quashed in a few weeks at most, but in this the authorities were mistaken, for the first encounter which took place resulted in a sad defeat for the police and volunteers, as eleven of the gentlemen from Prince Albert and nine of the Mounted Police were left dead on the field, and their bodies in the keeping of the pnemy. This news was heralded all over the prairies, and the Indians around Battleford, who up to that time had not taken part in open hostilities, now took up arms and wreaked their vengeance upon the settlers around that neighbourhood, plundering and destroying all property that came in their way. Two Roman Catholic priests were killed at Onion Lake, and our own missionary with his family were taken prisoners, but their lives were spared, though we afterwards learned they were led out to be shot on more than one occasion, and had it not been for the intervention of chief Big Bear, they would undoubtedly have been killed. This widespread infection necessitated a change in the plans of the General in charge of the Winnipeg and Ontario volunteers. He had to call a halt, and wait for further reinforcements to enable him to send detachments against the insurgents in different parts of the country. And so it came to pass that we in Prince Albert were for eight weeks practically cut off from communication with the civilised world. Having the body of the enemy between us and those coming to our relief, it was impossible to get any reliable information as to the doings and whereabouts of our rescuers. After the first encounter between the rebels and the General's troops at "Cut Knife Creek," when about fifty of the latter's men were killed, the tension in Prince Albert became very great, and rumours spread like wildfire. The Bishop sent for me to hear more about my Indians, and during the brief interview, he said: "According to reports there are armed Indians behind every tree across the river." I drew his lordship's attention to the fact that the trees across the river constituted a dense forest, ten miles by six miles at least, and the number of trees would be very great, perhaps a million, therefore the report must be false, as there were not a quarter of a million of Indians in all the Dominion of Canada. "But," he said, "they say the Indians from the U.S.A. have crossed the border line, and have come to assist the Indians on this side." I began to analyse this statement by asking if anyone had noticed them in transit, for it seemed to me to be inv possible for such a large number of people to travel so many miles unobserved, but this no one appeared to have done. All that was known about them was that they were there. "Well, my lord," I said, "you must not believe these wild statements. I pass right through this forest alone four times each week, visiting my Indians on the farther side, and my family on this, and not only so, but each time I have to pass right through the Sioux camp, which according to rumour, are watching their opportunity to massacre all the women and children in the town; this opportunity will arise, so rumour has it, when the men become engaged in a hand to hand fight with the rebels when they approach the town; yet I have not seen any of the Indians you speak of, nor received anything but kindness from the Sioux." As soon as the Bishop heard this he went to the foot of the stairs and called to his wife to come down and hear the news, and I had to reiterate my statement in order that the Bishop's wife might hear it first hand from one who could speak of the things he had seen, and knew to be true. Still, as I have said, the tension was very great in the place, and as our relief was delayed for reasons stated above, the military took charge of all the food in the town, and only served out rations to those who were willing, if able, to engage in active service. Some of our young clergy and students preferred to visit the sentinels doing outpost duty at midnight with hot tea and coffee rather than to take up arms, but as my family was quartered at the extreme east end of the town, and as this was a convenient spot from which to visit my Indians I preferred doing duty in that neighbourhood.
One of the largest of the steamboats on the river was launched as soon as the ice moved out of the river, and was kept there in readiness in case of emergency. The emergency which it was thought might arise, would be in the event of the town falling into the hands of the rebels, the women and children could be taken on board and carried down the Saskatchewan out of reach of the enemy, but rumour had it, that it was pre-arranged between the rebels and the Sioux camp, immediately across the river, for the latter to set fire to the boat and so prevent the women and children from escaping, and the time for this dastardly act to be executed was as soon as the battle near the town took place.
Consequently, two were told off every night to board the boat and keep watch over it, and I and another civilian were the first to go on duty; ultimately it was thought advisable to have one civilian and one of the military to do duty together. So the first night after the new arrangement was made, I was booked to have the company of a corporal, but, alas! my brother in arms did not turn up, and I spent the whole night alone marching up and down the boat, lugging about with me an antique American rifle, almost heavy enough to require a gun carriage to move it from one end of the boat to the other. I distinctly remember when the weapon was handed to me I was told it was loaded, and all I had to do was to pull the trigger, and a report would follow. I was also supplied with five extra cartridges, as that was all the man had, who had so kindly lent his gun for the defence of the boat, but my instructor omitted to show me how and where to insert these extra five cartridges, in case it became necessary for me to reload. I should have been at a loss to know how to go about it, the mechanism of the gun being so peculiar.
Just before daybreak the officer in charge of the east end detachment came round to inspect us, and finding me alone, he asked me where Corporal ------was? "Indeed, Major," said I, "that is the same question that I have been asking myself ever since I came on board this ship six hours ago." He then asked me where the detachment of Mounted Police were quartered, and I told him in the H. B. Company's kitchen, so we went in search of them, and we found all the brave fellows engrossed in sleep, having sat up late studying the tactics of war with a pack of cards, and as many of these were scattered about the floor, we understood these as representing the dead among the enemy. The outcome of this was, the delinquent was reported, tried and condemned to serve nine months in a place where only "patience" could be played. After this event, I always had company, and the men I had with me were all decent fellows, one in particular told me his past history and his disappointment in life, and I tried to help him with advice with regard to the future. A few nights after this I heard a tap at my window, for I and my family occupied a downstairs room in the Company's building, and on asking who and what was wanted, it was the voice of my comrade that I heard saying, "Sleep on and take your rest, for the news has reached us that the enemy's stronghold has been captured by the volunteers, and Riel is a prisoner." This time the report was a true one, and in a few days the troops with their equipment marched into the town of Prince Albert, "The Ladysmith of the West." In a short time, more of the details of the capture of Riel were made public. It appears that he, seeing how matters were going, fled away as in 1870, and hid himself among willow bushes, waiting for the cover of darkness to aid him in his escape south, but he was discovered in his hiding-place by two Prince Albert scouts, Thomas Houric, an English half-breed and, I think, a man of the name of Drain. Hourie stood about 6 feet 3 inches in his stockings, and was the young man engaged to teach the first day school on Big Child's reserve ten years before the rebellion took place.
The rebellion over, Star Blanket and Big Child were invited to Ottawa to be introduced to the Premier and other high officials, and were complimented for their conduct during the late unrest, and many were the personal presents they received from independent parties in the East, and each of the two bands represented by these chiefs was presented with a large number of cows and the flock of sheep already referred to.
But a few words must be said about my Stony Lake Indians, for I consider the conduct of that chief and some of his followers was not only commendable, but most extraordinary under the circumstances, there being no one near to advise them, for when the news of the rebellion reached them, we were already at Round Plain, and looting at different places had begun, for be it known that many of the French half-breeds, and heathen and Roman Catholic Indians, who were too cowardly to take sides with either party, were rebels at heart, and mean enough to plunder from loyal people whose property was unprotected. When the Stony Lake chief heard what was happening, he, with his two married sons, and others who were with him at the Lake at the time, decided to hide away in the thickest part of the forest they could find, many miles from any trail, and they had to sacrifice many of their private possessions in their endeavour to save the property that had been given to them by the Government. For instance, all their farming implements were carried on their backs and hidden away in the bush, and the chest of tools which was given to them at Carlton, and which I have already referred to, was lugged about with them in all their wanderings, and it was quite a task to find the Chief and his party when the rebellion was over and notify them of the fact, and even then they had to remain where they were until clothing was brought to them, as what they had on when they took to flight had been literally worn off their backs from contact with the undergrowth in the forest. In relating their experiences during the ten weeks they were in hiding, the old chief told me some very pathetic stories. He said they were constantly wondering what was happening and whether there would ever be peace again, and in order to keep the days of the week, they cut notches in a willow wand, and marked every seventh notch differently so that they might keep trace of the Sundays. None of his people were able to read, but he said: "Some of us could talk to God, and every Sunday we used to meet under a large pine tree, and I used to hang up my medal on one of the branches above us, to show we were loyal. Of course," he said, "there were no people but ourselves to see it, but I thought God would look upon it, and beholding the Queen's image, would accept it as our unspoken prayer for the success of her soldiers." The medal he referred to, was one of those given to each chief in commemoration of the treaty made in 1876; it was about three-and-a-half inches across and three-sixteenths of an inch thick, and looked like silver. On one side was a large head of Queen Victoria and on the other, if I remember rightly, was a figure of the Lieutenant-Governor and an Indian shaking hands, purporting to represent the ratification of the articles of Treaty. This chief, so far as I know, received no recognition from anyone for his loyalty, simply because his actions were not done in the limelight of public opinion and the public gaze, and in this how much he resembles some missionaries and teachers in the mission field, men who are contented to do the work in the uncivilised parts of the earth, isolated from the ordinary comforts of life, and no one near to administer to their necessities in times of sickness and trouble; these men are too often neglected and passed over by those in authority, whilst others, who are more favourably situated--and everything they do is seen and applauded by the public (though perhaps, more for the sake of being reckoned among those that applaud, than for any right appreciation of the work done)--these men, I say, come in for the first ripe fruit, as well as the gleaning of the vintage: in fact, the whole tree of ease, comfort and affluence is at their disposal. There is something said somewhere about the last being first and the first last; when, and what does it mean? Faith answers, "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
Personally, I have no right to complain, as I refused to be made an Archdeacon by Bishop McLean after his second visit to Sandy Lake, and a Canon by Bishop Pinkham as an acknowledgment of the work I was doing at the Pas, and why? because I preferred the appellation "missionary," pure and simple. But now, whilst I do not regret my decision, the word missionary does not appeal to me so strongly as it did in those early days; for then the term was applied to men who devoted their lives to the evangelisation of the heathen--who had to learn a strange tongue in order to be efficient in their work, and who had to live entirely among a strange people and make friends, as well as converts, before they had any friends. But now, under the new regime of amalgamating different societies and pooling the funds, so to speak, a man sent out to work among his fellow countrymen, speaking of course the same language, and who is not only carried to his destination in a Pullman car, but is waited upon on his arrival by a deputation from the congregation he is going to serve, and by them escorted to a reception got up in his honour--these men are now called missionaries in public literature and on public platforms; hence I say the term missionary at this age has not the same signification as it had forty years ago!