“Following those first conversions,” said Canon Stocken, “we had about twelve weeks of careful, individual preparation, and on March 27th, 1898, the first five adults were baptised, receiving the names of Paul, Daniel, Timothy, Thomas, and Ruth. From that time there were crowded congregations at the services. I can never forget those wide-open, straining eyes. No more impressive sight can any man see than the faces of heathen who begin to realise that there is something outside of themselves. The most solemn and wonderful time I think I ever experienced was on the evening of Easter Sunday. In the morning I had said, in dismissing my congregation, ‘Now, to-night I’m going to have a special service in the mission-room for those Christians who want to understand more about the Resurrection, and I’ll tell you of all the appearances of Christ that are mentioned in Scripture.’ Every one of the Christians came, besides some heathen, among whom was the wife of our Axe. She was very angry with him for becoming a Christian. She had refused to go to the service. But he made her come. Thinking of Constantine’s method, he was going to put the sword into force, so she yielded. Neyer shall I forget the awful, death-like stillness as those men and women strained their whole being, so to speak, to take in the subject of the Resurrection. You could positively have heard a pin drop on the floor. I was trembling all over at the responsibility of telling them those things which now they heard for the first time. I concluded with a short prayer, and then I went out to put my surplice in an adjoining room. Before, however, I had taken it off that woman came rushing in—the wife of Axe, I mean—and cried aloud: ‘Mokuyomakin, I do believe! I very much believe! I believe the teaching of God. I want you to baptise me also.’ The upshot was that she became a most earnest Christian. My poor wife used to say that, apart from Naomi (and I will tell you about Naomi later), there was no one in her women’s class upon whom she could lean more confidently than upon Esther, which was the name given in baptism to Axe’s wife.” I asked Canon Stocken to elucidate the Indian name by which Esther had addressed him. “Mokuyomakin means Running Wolf,” he explained. “The Indians christen everybody, you know. It was an old chief who dubbed me Running Wolf soon after I arrived. The words have no personal application to myself. The old chief said it was the name of a friend of his who had lately died, and for whose loss his heart was heavy. I considered he was paying me a real compliment, and I have always felt very proud of my name.”