We looked around when he had finished and saw a number of the most hardened sinners in tears and broken down by the earnest, loving, living message of the young Indian preacher. Who can measure the results of that strong and sympathetic appeal? Never can it fade from my memory or its effect be effaced from the heart. We feel that the Great Shepherd alone can tell how many of His sheep were found by the call given in that “Steamboat Whistle Sermon” by His young servant on the old camp-ground on the banks of the Fraser. One man was saved that day who became well known as a faithful worker among the Indians in after days. This was old Captain Tsit-see-mit-ston, who lived at the head of Sumas Lake. David knew nothing of fear in the prosecution of his work for the Master. Many a time, in the midst of circumstances most trying, would he declare his allegiance to Christ. Never was he ashamed of his Saviour, and his young heart was so full of love for Him that the influence was felt by all who came near to his warm and faithful life. Although his opportunities were few and his advantages limited, owing to a lack of an English education, he was a living demonstration of the fact that “God often chooses the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty.” On one occasion he was accompanying me on a missionary trip which included a visit to a sick Indian who lived up the Chilliwack River. When we arrived at Skowkale, on the east bank of the river, a priest came to the opposite side. He seemed desirous of crossing the river (it was before the river had changed its course at Vedder Crossing), and as there was no bridge, and no canoe or boat on his side, he called to the Indians on our side to come over and fetch him. I told them to go for the man, but they said, “Oh, no, we don’t want that teacher any more.” “But,” said I, “it is only politeness to row the man over if he wishes it; you do not need to listen to him or follow his teaching, but you ought to be kind and help any man when you can.” At last they were persuaded, and rowed across after the man, bringing him to our side. When the priest arrived on the bank of the river I said: “Good-morning, sir, you seem to be travelling.” “Yes,” said he, “I am going up to see a sick man at the village above.” “Oh, indeed,” said I; “my little friend and I were just going to the same place.” “Then,” said the man, in a mixture of French and English, “you better not go, he is my convert.” “Yes,” said I, “but I have been to see the sick man before, and I thought of going again.” “Then,” said he, “you people are all in the wrong way; it is no good you go.” “Well,” said I, “which way are you in? Here is my chart,” holding up the Bible. At this he got angry, and said, “That book is no good.”