The Word Carrier (Santee, Nebraska), 1891-01

              The Word carrier.
VOLUME   XX.
HELVING    THE   RIGHT.   EXPOSING   THE   WRONG.
Nl'MHK'.t   1.
SANTEE AGENCY, NEBRASKA.
JANUARY, 1891.
FIFTY CENTS PER YEAR,
OUR   PLATFORM.
For Indians we want American Education! We want American Homes!
We want American Rights! The result of whicli is American Citizenship!
And Hie Gospel is die Power of God for
tiieir Salvation.
The summary removal last fall of
Agent Wright, of Rosebud Agency,
was an unfortunate mistake, but it
redounds to the credit of the Interior Department,that as soon as his
defense was made, he was entirely
exonerated of all blame,and at once
reinstated. And it is only justice
to state that the Indian Office stood
by Mr. Wright and secured him a
hearing. That such mistakes are
possible is due to the complex machinery which now administers our
Indian Affairs. It is a system of
checks and counter checks wonderful to contemplate.
Bishop W. H. Hare has a sensible
article in the Independent of January 22, on the Indian situation,
under the heading "Who shall be
the "Victim." His answer is, We
need no victim; we need no scape
goat. There is no reason for losing
faith or courage. This crisis has
lifted evils in the Indian country
up into the light, and left the good
things in the shade. But the good
things are real and have shown
their vigor under trial. But we do
want a profound conviction in the
mind not only of a few, but of the
people, that the Indian problem is
worth attending to.
The slaughter of a whole tribe of
Indians at Wounded Knee was an
affair which looks worse the more
it is investigated. But aside from
the question of human culpability
there is a providential aspect which
demands notice. Taking it in its
bearings on the whole condition of
things among the rebellious Titon
Sioux it was a blessing. It was
needful that these people should feel
in some sharp terrible way the just
consequences of their actions, and
be held in wholesome fear from further folly. The way in which this
punishment came about is also significant. It was like an explosion
in a powder magazine. No man
planned it. But it was better that
two hundred should die than that a
nation should perish.
Please give attention to an article on Indian Reform Schools to be
found in another column. Compulsory education is necessary. But
it depends upon whom we have to
compel as to what sort of a school
is most useful. There are Indian
families in which it is the parents
that have to he driven to send their
children to school. But those children, when once under the influence
of a good teacher, readily improve
and learn to prefer the school to
home life. On the other hand,
there are Indian parents who are
thoroughly anxious to have then-
children in school. The children
run away and the parents whip
them and bring them back to be
further punished at the school.
The teachers employ all diligence
and patience endeavoring to teach
those children, but they will not
learn.   To keep them at their work,
all vigilance that is possible, for a
school that is not a prison school,
is exercised, but they continually
run away. The worst of it, however,
is that they rarely run alone. For
instance, a worthless young fellow
from up river comes down here to
school. He promises well for a
while, till he has gotten about all
the material possessions that he can
safely make away with, then he
suddenly disappears with all his
clothes and other things that do not
belong to him. But in the mean
time he has fastened on to some
younger boy who promises well in
his studies but who is not yet mentally balanced to resist the persuasions of the runaway schemer. At
considerable expense of time and
money the boys are overtaken. The
older one is stripped of some of his
goods and the younger one brought
back. After this younger one has
been led off a time or two more he
himself becomes capable of conducting a run away expedition,—and
five or six often go at once. A few
occurrences like this will disturb a
large school for many weeks. After
many run aways and returns with
new and to-be-broken resolutions and
promises, the professional truant is
given up as an incorrigible. Then
many pupils at the school begin to
think, "Is it not the easiest way to
live any how, to stay at home and
do nothing." And that privilege
is easily gained. "Only run away
several times." The result is more
frequent runaways. Then the rising
generation at home, naturally not
making any account of the boys who
are meanwhile plodding faithfully
along in their lessons, begin to think
that school must be a very undesirable place of existence if these fellows
spend so much energy in breaking
loose from it. In short, runaway-
ism is a source of corruption that
must be stopped. With a rigorous
prison school in prospect an Indian
boy would not be so apt to run away.
And if his conduct in school was
detrimental to others he could be
sent to the prison school any how.
It seems to us that an institution
of this nature would be a great help
towards raising the standard of
study in all Indian schools.
IX MEMOIUA.M.
Died.—At Berkeley,California, November 28, 1890, Mrs. Lydia P. Huggins,widow of Alexander G. Huggins, in the 79th
year of her age.	
"Precious in the sight of the Lord
is the death of his saints;" so likewise in the sight of his children.
The announcement of the death of
the last one of Dr.Williamson's missionary party of 1835 is a precious
fact to the children of the early Dakota Mission. Mrs. Huggins labored with her husband in the Dakota
Mission seventeen years, from 1835
to 1846 at Lac qui Parle, and from
1846 to 1852 at Traverse des Sioux.
Mrs. Huggins was born September 2, 1812, at Mowrytown,
Brown County, Ohio. Her father
Abraham Pettijohn (uncle of Jones
Pettijohn) was born 111 West Virginia. Her mother Jane Sloan
was born in Maryland. Alexander
Gilliland Huggins and Lydia Pettijohn were married May 3, 1832,
and settled in  Highland County,
Uhio. Some two or three years
afterwards they received a letter
from Dr. T. S. Williamson asking
them to go with him to teach the
Indians. An aged sister gives the
following story of that letter: "Dr.
Williamson wrote of his own consecration to the missionary work,
and said he would need a man to
go with him to supplement his
labors, and in thinking over the
qualifications necessary for such an
assistant he could think of no one
so well fitted for the place as Mr.
Huggins. He was an earnest Christian anxious to do work for the Master (had previously been working
for the negroes settled in the Black
Swamp), he was a skilful farmer,
had learned to use blacksmith and
carpenter tools, was active and energetic, and was a good singer,
which was a very necessary accomplishment. And his wife too would
be a good addition to the Mission
band as she was a skilled housekeeper, and could join in the singing. And it was told that Dr. Williamson afterward remarked that
God directed him in the choice of
his helpers, for he did not know
another family in whom was united
so many qualifications for the work.
The husband and wife accepted
the invitation. We are sure they
never regretted it.
Fifty years ago it was quite a different matterto give one's self to the
Indian work from what it is now.
We might say the missionaries
burnt the bridges behind them. It
was only a few boats in the middle
of summer that visited the Dakota
country, so that once in the field a
family could hardly retreat for a
year. But no precautions were necessary for this party. They were
consecrated for life if needed.
Fifty, or we might say fifty-
five, years ago the comforts of
missionary life were very different from what they are now.
Their homes, which looked like
palaces to the aborigines, were
made of logs cut and laid up with
their own hands, and every board
in them had to be sawed from the
log by human hands. And parents
and children spent many happy
days in such homes. And such
homes were an object lesson, as far
advanced doubtless as the untutored native eye could take in. And
no Mission home beamed forthwith
purer Christian light than did that
of Mr. and Mrs. Huggins,which contained eight children at the time
they left the Mission.
Fifty years ago the expense of
transporting provisions was so great
that a missionary with a $300. salary looked upon eastern goods as a
Sunday luxury, and was thankful
if the native supply was plentiful.
The native products at that time,
as we remember, were potatoes and
a sprinking of corn. The blackbirds
claimed the corn, but the potatoes
generally came out like Pharaoh's
fat kine. The thoughtful missionary wife was thus enabled when the
spirit moved her, to fill the pot to
the brim, and to our knowledge the
spirit was accustomed to move Mrs.
Huggins' heart almost daily, and
the long-haired occupants of the
bench by the door who had nothing to eat at home but the artichokes and bark that they gather
ed, could tell what became of them.
Fifty years ago those Indians received nothing from Government,
and it was not only food that was
scarce, but clothing. Their naked
bodies protruding from under tattered blankets, or filthy skins, were
a sight to behold. The heart that
was moved to spend days plowing
for the Indians that they might raise
their own food, was also stirred to
devise some means by which they
might procure clothing. Wool was
secured from an unsheared flock of
sheep belonging to Mr. Renville, the
trader. Several pair of hand-cards
were puichased, and under Mrs.
Huggins'directions some of the likely young women were set to carding
rolls. By the time there was a big
pile of rolls, a large spinning-wheel
walked out of Mr. Huggins' shop,
and in his wife's hands was soon
buzzing off the yarn. The clicking
of many needles followed, but the
whole body could not be well covered
with knit goods. It would not do to
stop there. So a fly shuttle and other
necessary parts were brought from
the east, the woods were searched
for suitable beams and posts, and
after while in one end of the house
rose the burly frame of a hand-loom.
The threads from the hundreds of
bobbins were reeled onto the warp-
beams, the warp was stretched, the
shuttle was filled, and, in the way
she had learned from her mother,
Mrs. Huggins sends the shuttle flying through the race, beats up the
weft, and thread by thread the cloth
grows on the beam under her arms.
The native women are now taught the
mysteries of the wheel and the loom.
The song of the spinster and the
crush of the batten are kept up until the wool is exhausted, and at
least a number of the chilled limbs
are warmed.
We might tell how, when the wool
failed, a field of flax was sown, and
hemp too, and how when the flax
was grown and rotted, the hatchel
cracked and the little wheel sang.
But the younger missionary children will already see that the missionary wife of fifty years ago had
a work to do, and how she was happy in doing it her own way. And
the older children will now have
tlieir memories refreshed and be
able to tell how they lost their treasures through the cracks in the
puncheon floor of Mrs Huggins'
house, and about the saw-pit, where
one man stood on top of the log and
another under it and sawed out the
lumber, and about the grist-mill
down by the spring where Mr Huggins drove one horse around under
a great wheel and turned a pair
of little stones which by diligence
might grind out four sacks of Graham flour a day.
We can hardly believe that one
who took an active part in such
scenes has but just passed away.
And we are told that she was not
yet old, but was able to perform her
share of the household duties until
a few weeks before her death, and
that her mind was clear to the last,
and her end peace. Though our
work may be very different from
hers, if we do it with the same faith
it will be one; and may many of
our missionary mothers, like her,
live to come down like shocks of
corn fully ripe. J. P. W.