Chapter Two.

A Contrast.

Oowikapun was bewildered at the marvellous contrast between what he had been accustomed to witness in the wretched wigwams and lives of his own people and what he here saw in this bright little tent of Memotas. It was all so new and strange to him. Everybody seemed so happy. There were no rude words said by the boy to his mother and no tyrannising over his sister. With equal affection Memotas treated Meyookesik and Sagastao, and great indeed was his kindness and attention to his wife. At first Oowikapun’s old prejudices and defective education as regards women almost made him believe that Memotas was lacking in brave, manly qualities to allow his wife and daughter to be on such loving terms of equality with himself and his son. But when he became better acquainted with him, he found that this was not the case.

Oowikapun could not then solve this question, neither did he until in after years he became a Christian.

There was one custom observed in the wigwam of Memotas that gave Oowikapun more surprise than any of these to which we have referred, for it was something which he had never heard of nor seen before. It was that in the morning and evening Memotas would take out of a bag a little book printed in strange characters, and read from it while his wife and children reverently and quietly sat around him and listened to the strange words. Then they would sing in a manner so different from the wild, droning, monotonous songs of the conjurers, that Oowikapun was filled with a strange feeling of awe, which was much increased when they all knelt down reverently on the ground and Memotas seemed to talk with the Great Spirit and call him his Father. Then he thanked him for all their blessings, and asked his forgiveness for everything they had done that was wrong, and he asked his blessing upon his family and everybody else, even upon his enemies, if he had any. Then he besought the Great Spirit to bless Oowikapun, and not only heal his wounds, but take the darkness from his mind and make him his child. He always ended his prayers by asking the Great Spirit to do all these things for the sake of his Son Jesus.

All this was very strange and even startling to Oowikapun. He had lived all his life in a land dark with superstition and paganism. The Gospel had as yet never been proclaimed there. The name of Jesus had never been heard in that wild north-land, and so as none of the blessedness of religion had entered into the hearts of the people, so none of its sweet, losing, elevating influences had begun to ennoble and bless their lives and improve their habits. So he pondered over what he witnessed and heard, and was thankful when the day’s hunting was over, and Memotas would talk to him as they sat there on their robes around the fire, often for hours at a time. From him he learned how it was that they had so changed in many of their ways. Memotas told him of the coming to Norway House of the first missionary, the Reverend James Evans, with the book of heaven, the words of the Good Spirit to his children. He told him many of the wonderful things it speaks about, and that it showed how man was to love and worship God, and thus secure his blessing and favour. The little book which Memotas had was composed of the four gospels only. These Mr Evans had had printed at the village in Indian letters, which he had invented and called “syllabic characters.” They are so easily learned by the Indians, that in a few weeks those who were diligent in their studies were able to read fluently those portions of the word of God already translated for them, as well as a number of beautiful hymns. Oowikapun had never heard of such things, and was so amazed and confounded that he could hardly believe that he was in his right mind, especially when Memotas, to try and give him some idea of the syllabic characters in which his little book was printed, made little sentences with a piece of coal on birch bark, and then handed them to his wife and children, who easily read out what had been written. That birch bark could talk, as he expressed it, was a mystery indeed.

When the time came for Oowikapun to return to his home Memotas went with him quite a distance. He had become very much interested in him, and being a happy Christian himself, he was anxious that this man, who had come to him and been benefited physically, should hear about his soul’s need, and the great Physician who could heal all its diseases. Lovingly and faithfully he talked to him and urged him to accept of this great salvation. Then he asked him to kneel down with him, and there, alone with him and God, Memotas prayed earnestly that this dark pagan brother might yet come into the light of the blessed Gospel. Then he kissed him, and they parted, not to meet again for years.

Happy would it have been for Oowikapun if he had responded to Memotas’s entreaties and become a Christian, but the heart is hard and blinded as well as deceitful, and the devil is cunning. So long, sad years passed by ere Oowikapun, after trying, as we shall see, other ways to find peace and soul comfort, humbled himself at the cross, and found peace in believing on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Oowikapun returned to his little lodge, rekindled the fire, and tried to enter upon his hunting life where he had left off when wounded by the wolf. He stretched the furs already secured, and then early next morning visited his traps and spent the rest of the day hunting for deer. His success was not very great; the fact is, what he had heard and witnessed during the days of his sojourn in the wigwam of Memotas had given him so much food for thought that he was not concentrating his mind on his work in a manner that would bring success. He would sometimes get into a reverie so absorbing that he would stop in the trail and strive to think over and over again what he had heard about the good book and its teachings. Very suddenly one day was he roused out of one of these reveries. He had gone out to visit some traps which he had set in a place where he had noticed the tracks of wild cats. While going along through a dense forest with his gun strapped on his back he got so lost in thought that his naturally shrewd instincts as a hunter, sharpened by practice, seemed to have deserted him, and he nearly stumbled over a huge, old she bear and a couple of young cubs. With a growl of rage at being thus disturbed the fierce brute rushed at him, and quickly broke up his reverie and brought him back to a sense of present danger. To unstrap his gun in time for its successful use was impossible, but the ever-ready sharp pointed knife was available, and so Oowikapun, accustomed to such battles, although never before taken so unexpectedly, sprang back to the nearest tree, which fortunately for him was close at hand. With a large tree at his back, and a good knife in his hand, an experienced Indian has the advantage on his side and can generally kill his savage antagonist without receiving a wound, but if attacked by a black bear in the open plain, when armed with only a knife, the hunter very rarely kills his enemy without receiving a fearful hug or some dangerous wounds.

One of the first bits of advice which an old, experienced Indian hunter gives to a young hunter, be he white or Indian, who