The Big Book of Canadian Hauntings. John Robert Colombo

a man or woman often has the same dream, the others recognize that individual as being under the protection of the spirit of the object dreamed of. In this way a large number of them, to us incomprehensible names so common among them, have arisen. They are named after the spirit or thing or person or animal they have dreamed of so frequently. This of course only applies to some of their names, which do not descend from father to son.

      If by any chance you should happen to see one of these mis-named Pagan Indians at his devotions (and it is only by chance that you will do so) and should ob-serve that he apparently addresses himself to a tree, a rock or to nothing that is discernible, remember that he is only doing as the Roman Catholics do, that is, asking his patron spirit to approach in his behalf the very same Great God that we believe in, but whom the Indian, so poor and vile a creature does he believe himself to be, dare not, and will not directly address. Protestants believe only in one mediator, one intercessor, one ever-living though once dead, sacrifice — Jesus Christ. The Pagan Indian knows nothing of Him and is inclined to regard the story of His incarnation as a flight of the imagination. There is this to be said, that once the postulate is granted in the matter of the Spirit or immortal essence permeating what we call inanimate things — and this is not a matter that would seem difficult to me — there is nothing in the so-called Pagan’s creed which demands the surrender of his reason, or the great and child-like faith which Christians deem necessary. That it is necessary I believe myself, not from any superior knowledge given to me compared to that granted to an Indian, but merely because I recognize in myself so much that is contrary to my reason and yet so much that I accept as true, without anything in the way of evidence.

      Though the Christian gospel may not appeal to the Indian’s reason, the effect or result of Christianity does appeal to him, and in no attractive light either. For what does he find? Civilization, which must follow Christianity, has been a blight on the Cree, the Blackfoot and on all Indian nations. This is a truism, but the fact remains that civilization has acted and reacted upon the Indians very much as the introduction of a city sewer would do upon a clear and limpid mountain lake, polluting from underneath, insidiously, the various strata of the Indian’s life, affecting first the young, the vain, and the foolish and at last, as the older generations die off, slowly obliterating the last trace of the purity and beauty that formerly was its boast.

      It may be said, “Is Christianity to blame for this?” but the Indian does not try to draw the distinction between Christianity and civilization, he concerns him-self only with the effect of either, or both, he cares not which, upon his own and his nation’s well-being.

      All “old-timers” will bear me out when I say that the Pagan Indian is an honest and God-fearing a man as ever lived, that there is less immorality according to the ideas which prevail among them, I mean less personal meanness, and almost no petty thievery among the Indians, where they have been fortunate enough to escape the evil influences which the arrival of white men among them has invariably produced. This may seem to some extravagant language, but it is my experience at all events, more particularly among the Mountain Stoneys, who have in a great measure preserved their much-despised Pagan principles of right dealing, honesty and general uprightness. They are Methodists now, and as far as I could see they had but to make a slight change after all in their beliefs, and no change in their daily lives. They believe now in God, the Trinity, and have eliminated the mediation of every spirit but that of Jesus Christ and seem to have found that their old conception of Manitou differs in no important particular with that of their new-found Father Almighty, the same all-good Power that they have always acknowledged to be their master. No much of change perhaps; who among the living can say? Formerly they were Unitarians, with the very beautiful theory of spiritual intercession added; now they profess with equal sincerity Christianity or Methodism, as you prefer. Whether this result should be attributed to the Rev. John McDougall, or the inaccessibility of their homes and hunting grounds I cannot say. I have not had the honor of meeting this missionary and he is therefore not among the failures alluded to above. Honor to whom honor is due. I have met with Mountain Stonies both at Morley and Lac Ste. Anne, and I would trust one in all matters implicitly, relying on his good principles that I should never regret it.

      The forms and ceremonies connected with this religion are really few in number, but as they have been so frequently described and even witnessed both by those who understood and by those ignorant of their meaning, perhaps it is scarcely necessary to describe them fully. It will not be in any sense relevant to the question at issue, which is simply this — why are the Indians of the late North-West Territories called “Pagan”?

      If I accomplish anything by what I have said which may awaken a train of thought in the minds of my superiors tending towards the removal of the stigma “Pagan,” I hope at all events to see the day dawn when the official name of “Pagan” may be altered to some word more applicable, more true. Call them, I suggest, instead of Christian worshipers, worshipers of God-in-Nature. Jehovah and Manitou, Jew and Indian, not I beg of you, Christian or Pagan, Protestant or Roman Catholic, or Christian and any name except Pagan. Jehovah of the Jews and Manitou of the pure-blood Indian resemble, and in fact, probably mean, one and the same conception of God. Let them then, and that soon, be styled Pagan no more.

WHEN HE CAME TO LIFE AGAIN

      Much cultural lore and many of the spiritual traditions of the Ojibwa people, which would otherwise have been lost in time, were preserved in written form by Peter Jones. One of his books which is particularly valuable for the light it sheds on the Native belief system is titled History of the Ojibway Indians with Especial Reference to their Conversion to Christianity ... With a Brief Memoir of the Writer and Introductory Notice by the Rev. G. Osborn, D.D., Secr. of the Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society (1861, 1970).

      A Mississauga Indian learned in his people’s traditions, Jones was a convert to Christianity. He was converted by Methodist missionaries and, ordained a minister, he preached the social gospel among his own people. He found more comfort in the monotheism of Christianity than in the pantheism and polytheism of his Native religion. “In all my fastings I never had any vision or dream,” he confessed, “and, consequently, obtained no familiar god, nor a spirit of the rank of a pow-wow. What a mercy it is to know that neither our happiness nor success depends upon the supposed possession of these imaginary gods, but that there is one only true and living God, whose assistance none ever did, or even can, seek in vain!”

      Here is a passage from Jones’s book which documents or dramatizes the Native notion of the afterlife, what the white man calls “the happy hunting grounds.”

       He Came to Life Again

      The following story, which was communicated to me by an Indian named Netahgawineneh, will serve to illustrate the source whence they derive their absurd ideas of a future state: —

      In the Indian country far west an Indian once fell into a trance, and when he came to life again, he gave the following account of his journey to the world of spirits.

      “I started,” said he, “my soul or spirit in company with a number of Indians who were travelling to the same spirit land. We directed our footsteps towards the sun-setting. On our journey we passed through a beautiful country, and on each side of our trail saw strawberries as large as a man’s head. We ate some of them, and found them very sweet; but one of our party, who kept loitering behind, came up to us and demanded, ‘Why were we eating a ball of fire?’ We tried to persuade him to the contrary, but the foolish fellow would not listen to our words, and so went on his way hungry. We travelled on until we came to a dark, swollen, and rapid river, over which was laid a log vibrating in a constant wavering motion. On this log we ventured to cross, and having arrived at the further end of it, we found that it did not reach the shore; this obliged us to spring with all our might to the land. As soon as we had done this, we perceived that the supposed log on which we had crossed was a large serpent, waving and playing with his huge body over the river. The foolish man behind was tossed about until he fell off, but he at length succeeded in swimming to shore. No sooner was he on land than a fierce and famished pack of wolves fell on him and began to tear him to pieces, and we saw him no more. We journeyed on, and by and by came within