Campfire Stories

This following story comes from the book "The Pioneer Campfire" by G. W. Kennedy (Pioneer of 1853), published in1913

I will speak of a characteristic case of pastoral visiting. It was given me by a man, who, at one time was a wild cow boy, on our borders; afterwards was converted, and became an 'evangelist.' This is the way he told it:

God in His goodness sent a little preacher down to that country. One day we saw a man come riding across the prairie, singing:"Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly."He came to the ranch, got down and said: "Boys, I want you to put my pony up and feed him. I am a Methodist circuit rider, and have come out here to stay with you." We had not asked him, and he did not wait for an invitation. I looked at him and loved him, but I was afraid to get close to him. My heart would not beat right. I was afraid to ride his horse to water for fear it would fall down and kill me.Brother, his horse was religious. His saddle bags would put you under conviction. When we sat down to eat and went to help ourselves as usual, he said, "Wait, men, I am going to ask a blessing." Everything was as still as death, and he turned loose, and at once my mind went back to my boyhood, when I had heard the old father ask a blessing in the mountain home. The boys began to eat, and before they were through he said: "Now, men, don't leave here until we have prayers. After supper we want to have prayers." I was afraid to go. After supper he took his Bible, and sat down and read a chapter with a good deal about Hell in it. He read as long as he wanted to. He was boss of the devil. He got down on his knees and prayed just as loud as a man could, and just as long as he wanted to pray. He shook us over the very pit. I saw billows of Hell. My heart went awful fast, then it would seem to stop dead; it seemed like I was going to die. He told God about everything we had ever done- all the stealing, lying, fighting and cursing. He had the thing in hand. He never consulted us as to how long or how loud he should pray. He did it up exactly right. When prayers were over we were just barely able to walk out, but we got out as quickly as possible. The next morning the preacher asked the blessing again, and said, "Don't you boys go out until we have had prayers, then I will have to leave you (he talked as though it would nearly break our hearts) but I will be back in about a month." After breakfast he prayed until it nearly broke our hearts, then he got on his pony and rode away. About a month rolled around, and we got sort of anxious to see the man again. As mean as we were, when we saw a fellow that was straight, we respected him, and we just knew he was. He came again and acted about as he had the other time, but some of us didn't do just ad we did before. When he was through the evening prayer, I went out with the boys; told them that prayer had been down on my nerves for a month, I couldn't bear it any longer, that I would quit then and there the blasphemous life I was living. Then went into the bushes and told it all to God. I tell you, before the next day dawned, I was a changed man." Many a faithful pastor found the stars for his crown, out there among the roughest of men.