THE
PN;TI:RITE. VoL .
XII .
APRIL, 1891 .
No .
91.
MISSIONARY NEWS. METLAKATLA, BRITISH COLUMBIA,
October 25th, 1890. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,
There is not one of you who would not have been delighted to have been my companion in travel during part of the autumn. In the early spring my voyages were on the sea . In the summer I change from salt to fresh water, but do not go far from the coast until the autumn . Last Saturday I returned from my longest trip of the year . It took me, however, only three weeks, as I met with no hindrances, excepting an occasional tempest or outburst, beyond the common sort of equinoctial gale. To see pine trees four or five feet in diameter, with the whole of their branched tops twisted and pinched off as if they were as many straws, leaves little to be wondered at, unless it is the reason why they were not torn out of the rocky soil . " Let go the sheet !" shouted my Indian Captain George . " Down with the sprit ! Gather in the sail!" Almost before the words left his lips the river was churned into foam. The squall rushed down the steep mountain side, and sped the whole length of the reach ahead, as in a moment . The bowman of my canoe, George Herbert, an ex-student of mine, skilfully furled the sail as it flapped and cracked more loudly than pistol shots . The bare pole sent us along rapidly, as the short waves whisked over the gunwale . This