desired him to arrest a smuggling vessel, from which some of the tribes
on the coast were obtaining spirits contrary to the law. He sent five
of his Indians to arrest the smuggler, but they failed in the attempt;
and not only so, but one of them was shot, and three others wounded. In
the following year a shocking incident occurred. The Indian camps at
that time were "deluged with fire-water," and Metlakahtla, because it
stood alone against "the universal tide of disorder," was threatened
with the vengeance of its heathen neighbours. A quantity of liquor was
landed there by a party of Kitahmaht Indians for sale. It was at once
seized. In revenge for this, they stole a little boy belonging to the
village while he was on a fishing expedition with his parents.
"Horrible to write, the poor little fellow was literally worried to
death, being torn to pieces by the mouths of a set of cannibals at a
great feast."

Nevertheless, Mr. Duncan's influence grew continually. In this very
case its power was, exhibited in his successfully interposing to allay
the exasperation of his people, and to prevent a war of extermination.
Even the white traders in fire-water themselves were sometimes touched.
The captain of one smuggling vessel, who was fined four hundred dollars
by Mr. Duncan in virtue of his magisterial authority, "afterwards
became one of his most active friends--a result partly due to the
impression created by what he saw at Metlakahtla, and partly to the
fact of Mr. Duncan having obtained restitution for him from the Indians
at Fort Simpson for injuries done to his vessel."

The moral influence exercised by the Mission is most strikingly
illustrated by an incident related by the Bishop of Columbia. In 1862,
H.M.S. "Devastation" sailed up the coast seeking the three Indian
murderers of the two white men: The Indians gave up two, but would not