One thing only marred our hopes for the day. Miss
Macpherson herself was almost prostrate through a sharp attack of
rheumatism, and oar hearts sank as we feared she would be unable to
be among us. However, in the 'prayer of faith' we laid her deep need
before the Lord, and He graciously gave her the faith to trust Him,
and the courage to attempt, even in great pain, to rise from bed, and
walk down to the Bush. The needed strength was marvellously given,
and she was able to remain with us until sunset. Truly the Lord doeth
wondrous things!
"At four o'clock our guests began to arrive. One visitor was the
centre of attraction--a chief of the Six Nation Indians, from the
reserve near Brantford, who arrived earlier in the day with Mr. B.
Needham, the missionary. Chief Jonathan, now a Christian, was dressed
in the native costume, now worn only on high days and holidays. Most
picturesque it was to see him seated on the green slope near the
river, leaning against a tall maple tree. His coat and trousers of
yellow buckskin were fringed at the edges. An embroidered scarlet
sash was loosely tied around his waist. Then his head-gear was most
striking. Long thin black hair hung over his shoulders,--not his own,
but from the scalp of some poor Indian slain in warfare! This was
surmounted by a turban cap of scarlet, and white beads, a row of
feathers all round it, and in front three or four very long bright
feathers standing erect.
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