velled their toilsome rounds.
These visits were not made in vain. Many of these children of the
forest, sick and dissatisfied with their old paganism which gave no
peace to their troubled spirits, gladly received the truth, and became
earnest, consistent Christians. Their godly lives were, in many places,
a constant reproof to the inconsistencies and sins of their white
neighbours. At rare intervals in my boyhood days it was my great
privilege to be permitted to accompany my father to some of the Indian
encampments that were not very far from our home, I well remember the
sweet plaintive voices of the Indians, as they sung some of our hymns
which had been translated into their language. Their devout and
attentive demeanour during the religious services, deeply impressed me.
It was ever a great pleasure to visit them in their wigwams, to see the
young people at their sports, and the older ones at their work: building
canoes, or making baskets.

In my boyish curiosity, I did not confine my rambling solely to the
Christian Indians; but, as all were very friendly, I wandered about the
encampments to the different wigwams, to see what I could that was novel
and interesting. Being known as the son of the Blackcoat--for in this
way was the missionary designated by the tribe--I was always welcomed in
the wigwams, and was given a seat in the circle around the fire.

In one wigwam the following characteristic incident occurred which made
a deep impression on my mind. Seated on the ground were representatives
of three generations, all, except the aged grandfather, busily engaged
in work, principally basket-making. He was a patriarchal-looking old
man, and, to my youthful eyes as he sat there on his blanket smoking his
long pipe, seemed to be absorbed in thought, noticing neither me nor any
one else.

The youngest of the company, and the one that naturally attracted my
attention, was a young lad of about my own age. He was busily engaged
with an Indian crooked knife, endeavouring to make an arrow. In his
eagerness to succeed, he let his knife slip, and unfortunately, cut
himself very badly. At the sight of the blood,--which flowed freely,
for the wound was an ugly one--the lad set up a howl of pain and alarm,
which greatly startled his stoical relatives. Relief was quickly
afforded, the cut covered with balsam and tied up in a piece of deer
skin. Not one word of sympathy did the boy receive; but on the contrary
from