Waiiletpu [pp. 174-180]

WA IILETPU.
has forever entered into the classic nomenclature of missionary toil and triumph, then but a
favorite residence of Indian chiefs and bravesWAIILETPU.
Thirty years ago this valley, these hills were
the chosen home of one of the strongest, bravest, and most warlike tribes of the continent.
From this center went out parties of plumed
and painted warriors, whose war cry, and the
gleaming of whose tomahawk, sent terror into
the camp of their enemies in the Rocky Mountains, or far southward to the Sacramento. The
deep trails, sometimes twenty abreast, along
which their cavalcades had rushed for centuries,
still mar the brows of the hills, or cut clear
through the grass of the valleys. Between this
beautiful though barbaric land, and the farthest
western advanqe of civilization, there stretched
two thousand miles of unpathed wilderness.
Westward, ocean thundered to ocean.
Up to the year I830, only a few trappers and
hunters had pushed their adventurous way into
the land that there swept, unknown, beyond the
great mountain chain that stretches centrally
of the continent from the frozen sea to the
southern ocean. Doubtful as was their character, they were pioneers, and the only representatives of American civilization. Along the
lower Columbia the fur hunters of the Hudson's
Bay Company were setting their traps for beaver, otter, and minx, gathering the soft treasures
of the wilderness to prepare ermine robes for
fair forms of wealth and beauty in other lands
to wear.
These were the representatives of English
life and civilization. VWhile these men, in the
wild pursuits of their adventurous life, were
contending with each other, with savages and
with nature for ultimate supremacy, in remote
capitals statesmen were viewing with far different feelings the country where yet the fires of the
bivouac were the only prelude of future hope.
Rivil nationalities began to see the importance
of the country, and to realize that whatever nation became its possessor, would ultimately
stand in a position to shape the commerce, and
dictate the destiny of the world. The cross of
St. George began to be displayed over the flash ing wave of the western Pacific shore, but not
before the stars from the azure of our country's
banner had looked down on coast, and sea, and
river. Through the stages and stratagems of
diplomacy, and then through the enterprise and
energy of commerce the question of possession
and right was led, but all such efforts to settle
it were in vain. The attempt to adjust the fu ture of the land solely to the demands of Na tional vanity or cupidity, could not succeed.
There were other more Godlike agencies to be
employed. We shall see what they were.
Snugly embowered among the hills of Steuben county, New York, lay the quiet little hamlet of Prattsburg. Before I8oo a Presbyterian
church had been permanently established there,
and a family of repute, by the name of Prentiss,
were associated with it. To this family, in I8o8,
was born a daughter, the record of whose heroic
devotion to truth and God was to thrill the romance of Christian chivalry in coming years,
and who at length was destined to the glory of
the martyr's robe and crown. In I82I the village of Prattsburg was blessed with a remarkable revival of religion, resulting in gathering about seventy souls into the Presbyterian
Church of that place, among whom was Narcissa Prentiss, then thirteen years of age. Her
consecration to Christ, from the first, was perfect. Though so early, she realized fully that
when the Savior calls to discipleship, hle calls
not merely to a participation in lifeless formalities, but to an active fellowship with him in his
gracious redeeming purposes and work. The
way her judgment determined right, her heart
approved and loved. In the select and retired
associations of her own Church and village, so
well adapted to her needful preparation for the
life that Providence afterward so clearly indicated, God gave her more than a decade of
years, bringing her up to strong, vigorous, mature womanhood, before he threw ajar the doors
that hid the mysteries concealed, and bade her
by the Holy Ghost to enter in.
The era-hour, marking the growth of the soul
of Miss Prentiss in all that is grand and heroic,
was now approaching. Dr. Marcus Whitman,
under the direction of the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, had, the
year before, advanced toward the Pacific as far
as Green River, about seventy-five miles west
of the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains,
when he held a conference with a large number
of JVez-Percez Indians, which resulted in his
immediate return to the States, to enlist a larger
company of missionaries for the Indian work.
That Board sanctioned his design and made in quiries far and near for an ordained minister
and his wife who would be willing to consecrate
their lives to such a mission. For many months
none could be found. Only one Christian fe male seemed willing to surrender all of life for
Christ, and work for him beyond the deep
shadows of the mountains. That one soon
stood at the altar with Dr. Whitman, and in
giving him her hand, fully conscious of what his
life, into which hers was now blending, was to
be, consciously gave herself to weary strivings
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