Creswell, J.) - Among the Sioux - a story of the Twin Cities and the two Dakotas

In March, Mr. Pbnd visited Mankato again and spent two Sabbaths with the men in prison, establishing them in their new faith. Before his departure, he administered the Lord's supper, to these new converts. And again the Mankato prison-pens witnessed a strange and wondrous scene. Three hundred embittered, defeated Indian warriors, manacled, fettered witli

:a among the sioux.

balls and chains,—but clothed and in their right minds, —were sitting in groups upon the wintry grounds reverently observing the Lord's supper. Elders Robert Hopkins, Peter Big Fire and David Grey Cloud officiated with j-evcrence and dignity. The whole mcve-luent was jnarvelous! It was like a ''nation born in a day." And after many years of severe testing, all whri know the facts, testify that it was a genuine work of God's Holy Spirit. The massacre and the subsequeni events destroyed the power of the Priests of Devils, which had previously ruled and ruined these wretches tribes. They themselves, exploded the dynamite under the throne of Paganism and shattered it to fragments forever.

In 1863, these Indians were transferred to Davenport, Towa, where thev were confined in prison for three years. In 1866 they were released by the government and returned to their native prairies, where they then became the nuclei of other churches, other Sabbath schools and other church organizations; and so these formerly savage Sioux became a benediction rather than a terror to their neighbors on the plains of the Dakotas. The church of the prison-pen became tile |)roiifi(: mother of churches.

While these events were transpiring in the prison-pen at Mankato, a similar work of grace was also in progress in the prison camp at Fort Snelling, where fifteen hundred men, women and children, mainly the families of the Mankato prisoners, were confined under guard. The conditions, in both places, were very similar. In the camp as well as in the prison, thev

Avero in g'rave troubles and great anxieties. In their clistr^>>es they called mightily upon the Lord. Here John, the Beloved (John P. Williamson D.D.) ministered to their temporal and spiritual wants. The Lord heard and answered their burning and agonizing cries. By gradual steps, but with overwhelming power came the heavenly visitation. Many were convicted; confessions and professions were made; idols reverenced lor many generations were thrown away by the score. More than one hundred and twenty were baptized and organized into a Presbyterian church, which, after 3'ears of bitter wandering, was united with the church of the Prison Pen and formed the large congregation of the Pilgrim church.

Thus all that winter long, '62-3, there was in progress within the rude walls of those terrible prison-pens at Mankato, one of the most wonderful revivals since the day of Pentecost. And in February, '63, Dr. Williamson and Rev. Gideon H. Pond spent a week in special services amongst them.

The most careful examinations possible were made into their individual spiritual condition and the most faithful instruction given them as to their Christian duties ; then those Indian warriors were all baptized, received into the communion of the church and org'an-izeci into a Presbyterian church within the walls of the stockade; three hundred in a day! Truly impressive was

THE BAPTISMAL SCENE.

The conditions of baptism were made very plain to the prisoners and it was offered to onh' such as were

AMONG THE SIOUX.

willing to comply fully with those conditions. AH were forbidden to receive the rite, who did not do it lieartily to the God of Heaven, whose eye penetrated each of their iiearts. All, by an apparently hearty response, indicated their desire to receive the rite on the croflfered conditions. As soon as the arrangements were completed, the}- came forward one by one, as their names were called and were baptized into the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, while each subject stood with the right hand raised and head bowed and many of them with their eyes closed with an appearance of profound reverence. As each came forward to be baptized one of the ministers addressed to him in a low voice a few appropriate words. This was the sr.bstance of these personal addresses. ''My brother, this is a mark of God, which is placed upon you. You will carry it with you while you live. It introduces you into the great family of God who looks down from heaven, not upon your head but into your heart. This ends your superstition, and from this time you are to call God your Father. Rem'ember to hono^ Him. Be resolved to do His will." Each one responded heartily, ''Yes, I will."

Gideon H. Pond then addressed them collectively.

"Hitherto I have addressed you as friends; now I call you brethren. For years we have contended together on this subject of religion; now our contentions cease. We have one Father, we are one family. I shall soon leave you and shall probably see your faces no more in this world. Your adherence to the medicine sack and the Natawe (consecrated war weapons)

have brought you to your ruin. The Lord Jesus Christ can save you. Seek him with all your heart. He looks not upon your heads nor on your lips but into your bosoms. Brothers, I will make use of a term of brothtrh salutation, to which you have been accustomed to your medicine dances and say to you: *' 'Brethren I spread my hands over you and bless you.' " Three hundred voices responded heartily^ '* *Amen, vea and Amen.' "

Chapter V.

It was 1884. Fifty years since the coming of the Pond brothers to Fort Snelhng—twenty-one years since the organization of the church in the prison-pen at Mankato, One bright September day, from the heights of Sisselon, South Dakota, a strangely beautiful scene was spread out before the eye. In the distance the waters of Lake Traverse (source of the Red River of the North), and Big Stone Lake (head waters of the Minnesota), glistened in the bright sunshine, their waters almost commingling ere they began their diverse journeyings—the former to Hudson's Bay,, the latter to the Gulf of Mexico. At our feet were prairies rich as the garden of the Lord. The spot was lyak-aptapte, that is the Ascension. Half-way up was a large wooden building, nestling in a grasy cove. Round about on the hillsides were white teepees. Dusky fonns wa^re passing to and fro and pressing round the doors and windows. We descended and found ourselves in the midst of a throng of Sioux Indians. Instinctively we asked ourselves, Why are they here? Is this one of their old papan festivals? Or is it a council of war? We entered. The spacious house was densely packerl; v/e pressed our way to the front. Hark! They are singing. We could not understand the words, but the air w^as familiar. It was Bishop Heber's hymn (in the Indian tongue) :

"From Greenlands icy mountains, From India's coral strand.

* i\' :!=

Salvation ! O Salvation !

The joytul sound proclaim, Till each remotest nation

Has learned Messiah's Name. Waft, waft, ye winds. His story, And you, ye waters, roll. Till like a sea of glory

It spreads from pole to pole."

With what joyful emphasis, this strange congregation sang these words.

We breathed easier. This was no pagan festival, no savage council of war. It was the fifteenth grand annual council of the Dakota Christian Indians of the Northwest.

The singing was no weaklunged performance—not altogether harmonious, but vastly sweeter than a war-whoop ; certainly hearty and sincere and doubtless an acceptable offering of praise. The Rev. John Baptiste Renville was the preacher. His theme was Ezekiel's vision of the \'alley of Dry Bones. We did not knew how he handled his subject. But the ready utterance, the sweet flov/ of words, the simple earnestness of the speaker and the fixed attention of the audience marked it as a complete success. When the sermon was finished, there was another loud-voiced hymn and then the Council of Days was declared duly opened.