The first Indians to come to us were some pagans, having with them two genuine old conjurers, whose drums and rattles and medicine songs were thum-thumming and yah-yahing almost all the time they stayed with us. As some of the older members of this camp, and nearly all the younger ones, came to our services, which we held every evening and three times on Sunday, these "high priests of this old faith" renewed their efforts, if one might judge by the noise they made; but do what they would they could not keep their young people from our meetings. After a time a larger camp came to us, nearly all of whom were Mountain Stonies and mostly Christian or semi-Christian in adherence, and our gatherings became very much more interesting. But as all of these people had the measles or were convalescing from the epidemic, and had lost many friends because of the fearful mortality which this caused, we were hard worked in attending to the sick and in comforting the bereaved. As to the former, Providence smiled upon us, and all of our patients, young and old, recovered, which helped us in our first acquaintance and gave us the beginning of an influence which grew with the years. Here I first met many who became my warm friends and bosom companions around many a camp-fire and on many a hunting field, when danger and darkness and hunger and storm alternated with peace and sunlight and plenty and calm. Here was great big Adam, who from being a first-class Pharisee, with demeanor a voicing of "Lord, I thank Thee," etc., became, through the instrumentality of a hymn I taught him to sing, humbled and penitent, and sought forgiveness and light. He found it; and oh, how changed he became! And there was his son Jacob, one of the grandest men I have known, for whom both nature and grace had done great things. When I first saw him he was recovering from the prevailing scourge. A noble fellow he was in form and feature. He had a big record as a moose-hunter, and was famed as a long distance runner. As he spoke both Stony and Cree fluently, I very soon saw he was a man to be cultivated and made useful for God and country. Then there was "Little Beaver," a Southern Mountain Stony, who very soon let me know that while he was glad to see me, he could never make up his mind to live down here in the woods and lowlands, but was always sighing for the mountains and foot-hills of his own section of the country, and who by his descriptions made me wish to start west with him and view for myself the land he loved. Another genuine character was "Has-no-hole-in-his-ear," an old man with a large family of boys who became my allies and faithful friends. The father was an ardent Christian in his way, and thoroughly loyal to the new Mission and the young missionary.