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No. 293
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res tº draw so a garº ass.
Mission Station at Mackinaw.
It was in the autumn of 1823 that I met a little Indian
boy on the island of Mackinaw, and accompanying him
home to gain permission of his mother to bring him into
the mission school, I first saw the then wretched woman
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who forms the subject of this narrative. She was about
forty-five years old. Her Indian name was 0-dah-be-ºn-
geºlºgº-ºº: signifying, in English, the Midway-sky-
- woman, or the place of the sun at noon. She was born
about three hundred miles up the south shore of Lake
Superior, and was by blood of the Chippeway tribe
Her uncle being a chief she was chosen, in early life.
to become interpreter of dreams. The qualifications for
this honor were to be decided by living ten days in a sepa
rate hut, without any other nourishment than a little water
each night. She faithfully observed the prescribed absti.
- nence, although it nearly cost her life, and of her own
accord afterward fasted nine days more. From this time
she was considered an extraordinary being. The tribe
would not permit her to work, but provided her with a
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2 The Indian sorcer Ess. [50
wigwam of distinction, and she constantly received from
them the best of their food and clothing. She was also
furnished with a large otter skin, or medicine sack, stored
with every article thought to be necessary either for the
magical cure of the sick, or for interpreting dreams.
his sack, which she carefully preserved, was her badge
honor; and in all their medicine dances she was greatest
among the great. On these occasions she took the lead in
drinking whiskey, by which means she became so exces-
sively intemperate, that in some of these scenes she twice
lost her sack, which, with the death of two of her children
and the neglect of the Indians, so dispirited her, that she
abandoned herself to every vice.
About nine years ago she lost another child, the third of
four. In her desperation she once tried to hang herself.
At another time she threw herself into the lake, but an
Indian caught her by the hair, and drew her again into the
canoe. Having but one child left, she remained sometimes
on the island of Mackinaw, and sometimes on the main
land, with no fixed object but to get whiskey by every
possible means.
She was thus living when, as above related, I found her
little boy, and accompanied him to her lodge. A wretch-
edly destitute and miserable scene we witnessed. At that
time no persuasion could induce her to allow her son to
join the mission school. But going the second time, and
the boy himself being willing, she at length, though un-
willingly, gave her consent. The following spring, more
out of pity than for our convenience, I employed her, on con-
dition that she would drink no whiskey and conduct herself
properly. By much counsel and care she did so much
better than I had expected, that I finally told her, that pro-
vided she would be steady, and do such work as she was
able, she might have a home with us. After this I be-,
lieve she was but three or four times intoxicated
About two years after, she began to pay a serious atten-
tion to religion, but for some time was very fluctuating.
While under the sound of instruction she would be affected
sometimes to tears. This was often the case at our adult
Sabbath school; though afterward, as she says, she would
throw the subject off, and become in a measure indifferent.
Again, impressed with the idea that there could be no
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51] THE INDIAN SORCERESS. 3.
mercy for such a creature as herself, and the thought of
her religious state making her unhappy. she would avoid
being present at our meetings or family worship. Yet,
she says, she often felt so strong a desire to hear the sound
of prayer and singing, that she has gone to the door and
remained there as long as she thought she could without
being discovered, sometimes till nearly frozen. During
most of that winter she felt such uneasiness of mind that,
not daring herself to look to God for mercy, because she
was such a sinner, she felt it a relief to overhear the wor
ship of others; as if God might possibly hear their pray-
ers, though she was unworthy to be present. During the
spring she was greatly distressed. When gathering sap
she often had thoughts like these: “Here I am, going the
same round daily from tree to tree, and can find no relief;
I must always carry this wicked heart, and when I die, be
miserable for ever.” A pious Indian woman used to con-
verse with her, and after praying, would perhaps ask her
if she did not feel the importance of joining with her in
heart. She said she did; and though there was, to her
mind, no prospect of ever being better, yet she would, as
she says, often feel strong desires for mercy. After her
return from the sugar camp, she thought that every one
must look upon her condition as hopeless; and, as before,
she often staid away from divine worship, because she
thought it unfit for her to be there. Most of the following
summer she spent at the farm, where at times she seemed
to awake to an affecting view of her religious state, and
with such feelings that she would go off from the house
and pray and weep alone; but for the most part she in-
dulged in despair, and found no relief.
The next autumn we had unusual sickness in the family;
and Eliza and her son Joseph were left at the farm alone
for two or three weeks. They also were both taken ill,
and probably suffered somewhat for want of nursing be.
fore we were aware of it and could bring them home. In
reference to this time, she says that she thought with her.
self that she had found no relief to her mind in our way,
meaning that of Christians, and that she would again try
her old way, her medicine or sorceress' songs; and that she
spent the greater part of several nights in songs and her
former Indian mummery. After she was brought home
4 - THE INDIAN SORCERESS. [52
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she discontinued this; but she thinks she nearly lost all
anxiety about her soul, and seemed to have no feeling fur-
ther than to take care of her son Joseph, who had much
profited by the instructions he had received. He spoke to
her much; but she said she was like one who had lost her
senses, and nothing seemed to move her feelings. Joseph
became dangerously ill, and showed the influence of reli-
gious instruction on his mind in the time of affiction. He
had a long conversation with her; he told her that he
should die soon, and that he wanted her to promise him
never to drink any more whiskey, to remain with the mis-
sion family, listen to their instructions, love God, and pray
every day to him; then, when she died she would go to
God and be with him. At first she told him, that if he
died she would die too. But Joseph said that was wrong;
for that God only had a right to call her to die when hé
saw fit. At length she promised him that she would re-
member and do as he had requested.
During the whole scene of Joseph's death and funeral
her behavior was singularly calm and solemn; so much
so that it was noticed by all. When she perceived that
his spirit was really gone, the tears rolled down her face,
and she exclaimed, in Indian, “My son my son!” but
further than this not a complaint or groan was heard to
escape her lips.
After the funeral I sat down with her and had a long
conversation. Among other things, I asked her why it
was that she appeared as she now did, and whether it had
been so at the death of her other children. She said, no;
for she had, as is common among the Indians, wailed and
mangled her body in her affliction. “I have no such
feelings now—God is good, and I feel that what he has
done must be right.” Although she expressed no con-
sciousness of the love of God in her soul, yet she furnished
evidence that her feelings were under the sanctifying in-
fluence of the Holy Spirit. Nor was it long before, through
the mercy of her heavenly Father, she began to experience
peace and joy in believing in Christ. Her soul was also
filled with love to all the members of the mission family, and
she said she felt that her own children had never been so
near her heart as they. At times her mind would recur to
the scene of her son's death; but, to use her own expression,
literally interpreted, “I felt as if I was in a narrow happy


531 THE INDIAN SORCERESS. - 5
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way; and iſ a thought came to me about Joseph, it seemed
like being drawn out of this way, and I longed to get back
immediately.” With these feelings toward God and Chris:
tians, she now became very anxious for the souls of her
own people, and said, “O, if they could only see as I do,
how happy they would bel"
When asked about the state of her mind afterward, she
said, “I have always been happy in God since then. The
more I have seen of the love of God in Christ, and the
longer I have lived, the more I have desired to love him,
and to love him more and more, and to be more and more
like him in my soul. I do not know that I have since
ever had any sorrow of soul so great as I have had for
those who are ignorant of God. Sometimes, when going
into church, or while there, it has made me weep to think
of those who do not love God. There has never been any
day since I found peace to my soul, when I did not feel
that God was with me.” The reason which she assigned
for this mercy was, that God would soon take her out of
the world, and that He was pleased to be thus preparing
her for his presence. “Every Sabbath,” she said, “I have
felt that this leaves me one Sabbath less to be in this world,
and brings me one Sabbath nearer the time when I shall
be with Christ.”
About two years since she was reduced quite low, and
one evening was thought dying ; but expressed joy in the
prospect of being soon with God. “I long to be gone,”
said she, “I want to have the time come.” Afterward she
felt that she had expressed impatience, and it grieved her
exceedingly; so that she had several seasons of weeping
on account of it.
At another time she had gone to bed, and, as she sup-
poses, had not slept long when she awoke and felt a desire
to pray. She arose and knelt down, but in a few moments
fell asleep on her knees. This occurred again; but awaking
the second time, she feared that her love to God was decay-
ing. With tears and a burdened heart she set about prayer
in earnest; her soul was so full she could not sleep, and she
spent the remainder of the night in prayer and joy in God.
I afterward put several questions to her: “You said,
before you found peace in Christ, that for many months you
felt yourself wretched, and that you often prayed; was it
for the merits of those prayers that God gave you peace?”

6 THE INDIAN SORCERESS. [54
“No, it was because of Christ's pity to my soul; because
he died for poor sinners; and it was of God's mercy that
missionaries were sent to teach me.” “Do you mean that
you never had any fears that you were deceived 7” “I have
always felt sure that God has had mercy on my soul; and
the more I have thought on my old wicked life, the more
it has drawn me near to God; it has made me feel more
humble in myself, and a strong desire to live only for him.”
“But should God take away his Spirit from your heart
and leave you to yourself what do you think would be-
come of you?” “I should be good for nothing.” “Have
you any fears that God will ever take away his Spirit
from your soul?” “No” “Why?” “From what I have
heard of his word, he has promised to keep those that trust
in him ; and I believe he is faithful to his word.” “There
have been several times in your sickness when you have
been very low, and have had reason to think you would
live but a short time; have you, at none of these times,
been unwilling or afraid to die?” “ No.” “Have you
constantly felt, that if it were God's will it would be a pri-
vilege to die, and you would be glad to have the hour
come?” “Yes, I have. This fall, when I was very sick
for two days and nights, and felt that God only could make
me better or take me away, I thought, if it were his will,
how glad I should be to be sure that I was dying, that I
might be with God.” “A year ago last spring you were
received into the church; can you tell me any thing of
your feelings at that time * “After I understood that
Christ had commanded it, I had a very strong desire to
join myself to his people; nor is there any thing in this
world I felt to be so great a privilege. When I promised
solemnly to be for God, I really felt in my heart every
word, and that I was now all the Lord's, and no more for
myself or for any other. I was happier than I can ex-
press,” “Have your seasons of communion with the Lord's
people been always precious º” “Yes, every one of them.
I have heard more of the Savior, and have learnt more of
his love from the Bible: I have felt, if possible, more and
more near and happy in him.” “What good do you think
a profession of religion could do you without a heart to
love the Savior?” ". None; there would be no joy to my
soul.” “Could you have this joy and peace of which you
have told me, if you did not, as far as you know, strive to

55] THE INDIAN SORCERESS, 7
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serve God in all things?” “No, I could not. Though
unable to labor with my hands for God, it is my sincere
desire daily to have my heart much in prayer for the sal:
in of others; and because God lets me live, I believe
- . me to be devoted in spirit to this.” “Do you
think you love God and souls as much as you ought º'
* No, I try to love, but do not feel as much as I ought.”
* When do you expect to have perfect love to God and
souls?” At first she answered, " Never;” thinking that
I meant while in the body; but afterward said, “When I
get to heaven.”
From this time her bodily powers failed, but she was
strengthened in the Lord day by day. Her sufferings
were great; but she was uniformly patient and happy. It
was the daily practice for some member of the family to
take an interpreter and spend some time in reading the
Bible to her. She frequently spoke of these privileges
with exquisite delight. On one occasion she expressed a
fear that her faith wa º weak, and requested me
to read about Elijah's praying for rain; adding, she had
never ºrgot that since she first heard it. The chapter
was read, and also the last of James. She seemed much
strengthened, and often gave her assent while we were
reading. I asked her what she understood by it, and how
it applied to her. She answered, “We should pray as ear-
nestly for the Spirit as Elijah did for rain, and God would
as certainly send down a shower of grace.” This was on
the evening of the monthly concert. I asked her if she
knew that this night Christians throughout the world were
praying. She answered, “Yes, I have been thinking of
it all day, and when I heard the bell ring I knew it and
felt glad.” We then sang a verse, and two of the mission
children prayed in Indian. It was a precious season, and
before we closed Eliza seemed to be again on the Mount.
As a member of the family was passing the door that
led to Eliza's room, she heard her singing in her own
language, " Heavenly Father, come down and take thy
wanderer home, for I want to be with thee. O how I
long to be with thee. Come, Lord Jesus, come.”
On Saturday evening, as another entered her room, she
took her affectionately by the hand, and began to express
her feelings, but was so much affected that she could not
proceed. The next day the same individual carried her
8 THE INDIAN SORCERESS. [56
“The Life of Christ.” While showing her the plates, she
discovered much emotion, particularly with the view of
the Savior's bearing the cross, and said, He was now near
her. She then said, “I wish you to know that I di
weep yesterday for my pain and suffering, but foº
God was very near. I did not rest while he was so near,
but prayed all the time.” To her heathen sister, who was
sitting by her, she then turned and said, “You must not
weep for me when I am gone; I am going to a better
country.” -
As we were daily expecting her death, I took the little
girls of the mission to see her. While standing around
her emaciated frame, she ſaintly said, “ Listen to instruc-
tion—love God, that you may meet me in heaven.”
On the day of her death she repeatedly said, “I think
I shall go to-day.” In the afternoon she requested that
the Indian hymn, “And must this body ſail,” &c. might
be sung. - -
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After it was finished one of
missionaries asked if it
expressed her feelings. She saidºs. She was then told,
if she kept her eyes on Jesus h uld not forsa.e her,
but go with her through the dark"valley. With much
emphasis she pronounced Bageſ, the Indian word for Yes,
and appeared to be filled with the Holy Ghost. She con-
tinued to ſail through the evening. As one went in to bid
her farewell for the night, she clasped her hand, with eyes
beaming with pleasure, saying, “I think I shall go to:
night!” “Why do you think so, Eliza She laid her hand
upon her breast and said, “Something here tells me I shall
go to-night.” She then bade her a solemn, affectionate,
and cheerful farewell; and, in allusion to David's words,
said she “feared no evil.” Soon after she became speech-
less. One who was attending her remarked, “You will
soon get through.” She cast her wishful eyes toward
heaven and seemed to say, I hope soon to be there; and
about eleven in the evening, November, 1830, she died
READER beware lest, when you meet this benighted
heathen in the day of judgment, “A ransºmed soul," you.
be, by your own criminal rejection of Christ, “ yourseſ
thrust out.”
*
Pupi, Isrºo BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIET Y.
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