Visit to Matopo, 1910--Improvements--Brother and
Sister Doner--Mapani--Mtshabezi--Visit in 1913--
Bulawayo and Vicinity--Changes at Matopo--Aiding
the People--Love Feast at Mtshabezi--What Hath God
Wrought? 212
PART II
Macha Mission
CHAPTER I.
Early Missionary Labors--Railroad Building--Starting
for the Zambezi, 1906--Victoria Falls--David
Livingstone--Barotseland and Other Missions, 237
CHAPTER II.
Preparing to Advance--Broken Wagon--Journey to
Kalomo--Interviewing Officials--Difficulties in the
Way--Permission to Proceed--Macha, 252
CHAPTER III.
Why Selected--Living on the Veldt--First Huts--Spiritual
Duties--Learning an Unwritten Language--First
Christmas, 263
CHAPTER IV.
Trying to Begin School--Chief Brings His Son--Industrial
Work--School Books--Wild Animals--Threatened
Uprising--Mr. M. Taylor Arrives, 1907--White
Ants--Visit to Nanzela, 277
CHAPTER V.
Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Wenger Arrive, 1908--Need of
Good Houses--Making Brick--Tsetse Fly--Brother
Taylor's Encounter with Lions, 295
CHAPTER VI.
School Work--English--Evangelistic Work--Brother
Taylor Among the Baila--Building a House--Elder
Steigerwald and Brother Doner Go North--Visit
of Elders J. N. Engle and J. Sheets--Marriage--First
Baptism, 306
CHAPTER VII.
Furlough--Encounter with Elephant--Misses E. Engle
and Mary Heisey Visit Macha--Preparing the New
Testament--Out-schools--Murder of Chief--Taylors
or Furlough--Death of Semani, 323
CHAPTER VIII.
Baby Ruth--Building Church--Training Natives--The
Year's Work--Brother Taylor Itinerating--Elder
Steigerwald's Visit, 343
CHAPTER IX.
New Books--Native Problems--Studying the Native
Character--Child Life--Natives Resourceful--Dark
Side of Native Character, 355
CHAPTER X.
Are They Lazy?--Three Natives--Home Training--Charlie--
Are They Provident?--Naturalists--Attitude Toward
Whites--Generosity of Some--Kraal-visiting, 372
CHAPTER XI.
Ideas of God--Native Prophetesses--Rainmakers--Death
and Burial--Digging a Grave--Sacrifice of
Animals--Beer-wailings--Evil Spirits, 387
CHAPTER XII.
Tribal Mark--Decorating the Body--Kinship--Betrothal
and Marriage--The Bride--Hindrances to Mission
Work--Compared to the Matabele--Salutations, 402
CHAPTER XIII.
Ruth's Sickness--Medical Work--A Visit Among the
People--Remember the Aged--David Goes to School--Taylors
Go to America, 1913--Wenger's Return--Outpouring
of the Spirit--Miss E. Engle and Mr.
L. B. Steckley Come to Macha--First Women Baptized, 418
CHAPTER XIV.
Two Objects Paramount--Need of Native Evangelists--Visit
to Out-schools--Mianda--Impongo--Kabanzi--Kabwe--Myeki--
Chilumbwe, 440
CHAPTER XV.
Lehmans' Work--Eysters' Work--Doners Open New
Station--Present Status--Are the People Eager to
Hear?--What It Means to Be a Missionary--Qualifications--
Difficulties--God Is Able, 466
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
H. Frances Davidson and Adda G. Engle, Frontispiece
Hut Built by H. Frances Davidson and Alice Heise at
Matopo, 58
Matopo Mission, March, 1899, 63
Matopo Mission Church in 1899. Built by Elder Jesse
Engle, 87
Mrs. Cress Giving a Lesson in Cleanliness, 91
Elder Engle and Donkey Team at Matopo Mission, 99
Matopo Cemetery, 103
Matopo Mission House. Front View, 131
"Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes," 149
Matopo Mission Church. Built by Elder Steigerwald in
1905, 159
Back View of Matopo Mission House, Showing Granite Hill
Beyond, 161
In the Matopo Hills, 163
Mapani Mission, 1907, 168
Kwidine Taking His Aunt to Church. Matopo M. Hospital, 170
Christian Wedding Reception Near Matopo, 171
Matabele Kraal, Near Matopo Mission, 196
Matabele Women Stamping Grain, 201
Matabele Women Digging, 207
Building the Boys' House at Matopo, M. S., 215
Boys' Brick House at Matopo Mission, 215
A Native Christian's Home. Matshuba's, 217
Mtshabezi Church and School, 221
Mtshabezi Mission in 1910, 221
Mtshabezi. Baptismal Scene, 224
Girls at Mtshabezi Mission, 230
Victoria Falls Bridge, 241
Main View of Victoria Falls, 1-1/4 Miles Wide, 246
Macha Mission Huts, 1907, 281
Macha Boys and Schoolhouse, 287
The Last Invitation, 291
Making Brick at Macha, 302
Brick Kiln. Mr. Jesse Wenger and Helpers, 302
Macha Mission Dwelling House, 307
Elder Steigerwald and Mr. Doner on Their Trip North
of Macha, 313
Crossing the Kafue River in a Native Dugout, 315
Batonga Chiefs and Headmen, 317
First Baptismal Scene at Macha. Native Congregation
Not Visible, 319
Wedding Dinner at Macha, 320
The Elephant That Derailed the Train, 325
Macha Mission School, Boarders, 1910, 327
Macha Wagon and Oxen Near an Ant Hill, 330
Simeoba's Village, Viewing the Strangers, 334
Sisters Engle Crossing the Tuli River in the
Matopo Hills, 337
The Battle Palm, 340
Macha Mission Church and Boys' House, 347
Ruth Taylor and Her Mother. A White Child in the
Midst, 351
Little Nurses. Mianda Village, 359
Batonga Fisher Women, 364
Batonga Village with the Cattle Pens in the Foreground, 404
Cattle Pen of the Batonga, 406
A Batonga Family Traveling, 408
Native Women--Widows, 410
Kabanzi Chief with His First Wife, 412
Giving the Gospel in Macha Village, 414
Macha Mission, 1913, 419
Ruth Taylor, 423
First Christian Marriages at Macha, 426
David Moyo and His Wife and Child, 429
Rev. and Mrs. Kerswell with Native Carriers on a Visit
to Macha, 431
Batonga Chiefs, Near Macha Mission, 435
School at Kabanzi Village, 446
Sikaluwa, 456
Brethren in Christ Cottage and Chapel at Johannesburg, 469
Mr. and Mrs. Isaac O. Lehman and Family, 474
Boxburg Mission Station. Built by Mr. Jesse Eyster, 479
PART ONE
MATOPO MISSION
"Go ye therefore and teach all nations"
--Matt. 28: 19
SOUTH AND SOUTH CENTRAL AFRICA
CHAPTER ONE
The Beginning of Missionary Effort
It was at the General Conference held in May, 1894, that the Foreign
Missionary Work of the Church of the Brethren in Christ originated.
Previous to that time the old fathers of the church had made many
missionary journeys through the United States and Canada for the
advancement of Christ's Kingdom and in the interests of the faith they
so dearly loved. These journeys were made without remuneration and often
with great discomfort and sacrifice of time and money. The precept that
the Gospel was free, "without money and without price," seemed so
instilled into their hearts that some of them, no doubt, would have felt
pained for people to think that they expected money for their services.
So while the laity were busy with their own temporal duties, these
heralds of the Cross would often leave their little farms in care of
their wives and of help, hired at their own expense, and devote weeks
and months to evangelistic work, expecting what? Nothing but their food
and sometimes sufficient to pay their car fare, if they went by train.
But it often happened in those early days that the entire expense of
whatever sort was borne by themselves. They looked for no reward on
earth save the consciousness that they were about their Master's
business and seeking to extend His Kingdom on earth.
Much honor is due those old soldiers for their self-sacrificing labors.
In that Great Day when the books are opened, perhaps the record of their
labors may astonish some of us who sometimes criticise them for their
slowness in launching the foreign missionary work of the Church.
Among them were some who were greatly burdened for the heathen. Some
felt this lack of Church activity so keenly that they almost severed
their connections with it on this account. Others saw the need, but,
realizing the smallness of membership and the limited resources, thought
the Church was too weak to launch out into foreign missionary
enterprise.
In the meantime individual members were agitating the question, and some
were planning to go independently to India and to Central America, while
others were contemplating going under other Mission Boards.
While this agitation was going on, the question of foreign mission work
was brought forward at the General Conference in May, 1894, held in the
Bethel Church, Kansas. On Friday, the last day of the Conference, a
paper on the subject was read by Mrs. Rhoda Lee, but no active steps
were taken and the question was tabled indefinitely, to the great
disappointment of some present. Later, on the same day, Elder J. E.
Stauffer arose, and, placing a five-dollar bill on the table, stated
that it was for foreign mission work, then sat down. This action
brought matters to a crisis. Here was missionary money and something
must be done with it.
After consultation it was decided that the donor be appointed Foreign
Missionary Treasurer, and any desiring to donate should give their
offerings to him; and that, as soon as sufficient money was in the
treasury to justify the measure, active steps would be taken toward
sending out missionaries. By the close of the day thirty-five dollars
had been placed in the hands of the Treasurer. The funds increased
slowly but steadily.
At the Conference of 1895 held in Ontario, "A Foreign Mission Board,
consisting of Brethren Peter Steckly, B. T. Hoover, and J. E. Stauffer,
was appointed to hold office for five years, subject, however, to the
advice and control of General Council." At the next meeting of
Conference in 1896 in Pennsylvania, "The Treasurer of the Foreign
Mission Fund, J. E. Stauffer, submitted his report, and he was
congratulated for his successful effort. The amount in the treasury is
$419.60." This amount had been donated in two years. These data have
been given that it may be seen how the work has grown.
At this meeting it was decided that the funds had increased sufficiently
to take an advanced step. The Board was increased to twelve members with
an operating board of three. Of this Elder Samuel Zook was appointed
treasurer, Elder Henry Davidson, chairman, and Elder Jesse Engle,
secretary. The Board was empowered to secure volunteers for starting a
work among the heathen in some foreign country, no particular country
being designated.
Of the General Board of twelve members, Brethren Peter Steckley, J. R.
Zook, and Peter Climenhage are still on the Board after a lapse of
eighteen years.
Just what was done in the interim I cannot say, but on January 15, 1897,
there appeared in the _Evangelical Visitor_ the following:
AN APPEAL
We would call attention to the fact that the committee appointed at
last Conference is ready to act on the foreign mission work, but up
to this time they have received no applications. Why is it? Does
the Lord not speak to some hearts? Or is it because the Church is
not praying the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into His
harvest?
The field is white. The harvest is ready. Who will go forth in the
name of the Master, filled with the Holy Ghost, ready to lay his or
her life down for the cause of Christ's salvation to the heathen?
It means something to be a foreign missionary. It means a full
sacrifice of home, friends and self--a perfect cutting loose. But,
praise the Lord! when it is done for Christ's sake and the
Gospel's, we shall receive an hundredfold in this life and eternal
life in the world to come.
The Lord has provided money--somebody was willing to give it, but
who will give himself? I believe the Lord has spoken to your heart.
Just say, "Lord, speak, thy servant heareth." And if the Lord tells
you to go, don't do as Jonah--try to get away from the Lord---for
as Jonah did not fare well, neither will you. But if you obey God,
He will go with you into the ship. We are ready and waiting to
receive applications, but somebody must be willing to obey God or
the work will be delayed while souls are perishing.
If the Lord lays it upon your heart to give because you can not go
yourself, please send your donations to Elder
Jesse Engle, Donegal, Kansas, as he is the committee's secretary
and will keep a correct account of all money received and hand it
over to the treasurer. The committee has not decided yet where the
field shall be, but will decide when such workers present
themselves as are believed to be called of God. South Africa has
been spoken of; also South or Central America. No doubt God will
direct when the time comes that somebody is willing to go. Who
shall it be?
SAMUEL ZOOK.
At that time I was teaching in McPherson College, Kansas, and was
greatly enjoying the work. It was my seventh year at that place, and
just the day before the article had appeared I had entered into a verbal
agreement with the other members of the faculty to remain for some
years, the Lord willing. No thought of the foreign field had entered my
mind previous to this, except a readiness for whatever the Lord had for
me to do. Up to that time I verily thought I was doing His will by being
in the classroom.
The day that "The Appeal" appeared in the _Visitor_, it was read like
the other matter and nothing further was thought of it; but the day
following the Lord came to me, as it were, in the midst of the class
work, in the midst of other plans for the future, and swept away my
books, reserving only the Bible. In reality He showed me Christ lifted
up for a lost world. He filled me with an unutterable love for every
soul who had not heard of Him, and with a passionate longing to go to
worst parts of the earth, away from civilization, away from other
mission bodies, and spend the rest of my life in telling the story of
the Cross.
We prefer not to dwell too minutely on the feelings of that sacred hour.
Sufficient to say that there and then He anointed me for service among
the heathen. Not that I have measured up to all that He placed before me
on that day. On the contrary I have fallen far short; but the
consciousness of that call has ever been with me, and has strengthened
and kept me, in the thickest of the fight in heathen lands. Even when
the battle was sore and defeat stared me in the face, the conviction
that it was His appointment and His work for me kept me fast.
My first step was to go to my colleagues and ask to be released from the
agreement into which I had entered with them. They were as much
surprised at the turn affairs had taken as I had been, but readily
agreed not to stand in the way of the Lord's call. A letter was then
sent to the Mission Board, informing them of the call to service and my
readiness to go and at once if they deemed it advisable to send me.
Much had been said about missionary work and many had seemed eager to
go, so that I somewhat tremblingly awaited the result, feeling that they
might not consider me fitted. At the same time a private letter was
dispatched to my father, who was Chairman of the Board, telling him of
my convictions and call. A letter came first from dear father. He had
been quite unprepared for the news contained in my letter, and his
answer can best be summed up in two of his sentences: "How can I say
yes? and how dare I say no?" He closed the letter by advising me to wait
a year or two until others were ready to go. The official letter from
the Board through the Secretary, Elder Jesse Engle, stated that I was
the only applicant so far and had been accepted, but that there would be
time to finish the year's teaching. It was quite a surprise and
disappointment to me to learn that there were still no other applicants,
but not long afterwards word came that Elder Jesse Engle and wife were
likewise seriously considering the question.
He, as many of my readers know, had realized a call to give the Gospel
to the heathen while he was still a young man, but probably from lack of
encouragement and from other seemingly insurmountable obstacles had not
obeyed. Now, at the advanced age of fifty-nine years, he still felt that
his work was not done; and he was ready to enter the field, if his way
opened, even though it might appear to be at the eleventh hour. And she,
who had nobly stood by his side for so many years, could still say, "My
place is beside my husband. Where he goes I too will follow."
In the meantime the question as to the location of this first missionary
venture was beginning to agitate the minds of some of us. The Board felt
that the missionaries should be consulted in the matter. The conditions
then existing in South America were attracting the attention of the
Christian world. Some countries, notably Equador, were for the first
time being opened to missionaries. The sore need there appealed to me
and led to correspondence with others in reference to that field; but no
one was ready to go there. Later I learned from Brother Engle that he
was led to Africa, the country of his early call. The location was
immaterial to me, for my call was to the neediest field, and I soon
realized that Africa, with its unexplored depths, its superstition and
degradation, its midnight darkness, was surely in need of the Light of
Life.
The cheering news soon came that Miss Alice Heise also had applied and
been accepted as a foreign missionary. That increased the number to
four.
At the General Conference in May, 1897, at Valley Chapel, Ohio, the
following report was given and adopted:
Report of the amount of money in the hands of the Treasurer of
Foreign Mission to date, $693.46.
Four candidates presented themselves for the foreign mission field
and have been accepted as follows: Elder Jesse Engle and Sister
Elizabeth Engle, his wife, of Donegal, Kansas; Sister H. Frances
Davidson, Abilene, Kansas; and Sister Alice Heise, Hamlin, Kansas,
and if approved by Conference, it is recommended that they should
be ready to start for their field of labor as early as September or
October, provided that sufficient means are at hand to pay their
passage to their place of destination, which means are to be raised
by voluntary contributions as the Lord may direct, and to be sent
directly to the address of each of the missionaries.
The Board recommends that to complete the number of workers there
should be one more added to the number in the person of a brother
as an assistant to Brother Jesse Engle.
The Board further recommends that the Conference now in session
select some well qualified brother to fill the vacancy occasioned
by Brother Jesse Engle on the Foreign Mission Board. Brother W. O.
Baker was appointed
to fill the vacancy (provided Brother Engle should go); all of
which is respectfully submitted.
HENRY DAVIDSON, Chairman.
SAMUEL ZOOK, Treasurer.
The summer of 1897 passed slowly for some of us who were eager to be on
the way; but even the days of waiting and visiting were a part of our
preparation. They were solemn and momentous days also to others besides
those who were going. Some of the friends felt that we should not go;
others with tears bade us Godspeed, feeling that we might probably never
look one another in the face on earth again. In October a little
farewell meeting was held at Dayton, Ohio, where God's blessing was
invoked on the work, and here I said good-bye to dear old father,
realizing that it would likely be for the last time. At Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania, we were pleased to receive into our number Miss Barbara
Hershey, of Kansas, who also was called to the work.
The actual moving out of the missionaries was also a great impetus to
the financial part of the undertaking. During the few months previous to
sailing $1,500 was given by voluntary contributions into the hands of
the missionaries themselves, more than half of which was handed to
Brother and Sister Engle in their extended tour of the Brotherhood. In
addition to this, $639.70 was during the same time handed to the
Treasurer, making $1,211.64 in his hands.
On November 21 a general farewell and ordination meeting for all was
held in the Messiah Home Chapel, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where the
five prospective missionaries were set apart for the work of the Lord.
No brother had volunteered to go along as a helper to Elder Engle. This
was a solemn time to those going, for a new and untried field was before
them and a voyage and country of which they as yet knew nothing. And yet
there was no fear, no anxiety. On the contrary, to some of us the joy of
having the privilege of being His messengers to those sitting in
darkness transcended all other emotions, and our journal of that time is
full of expressions of longing to be in darkest Africa. At that meeting
Elder Engle delivered a farewell address with power and unction from on
High, and the rest told of their call. After the ordination of all had
taken place, we commemorated the death and sufferings of our Savior.
If we may judge from expressions made at the time and since, there were
others in that large audience that evening to whom the occasion was an
important and impressive one. The Church was rising to a sense of her
opportunity and privilege--yes, and duty of carrying out the Great
Commission. As we went forth, we felt that the prayers of the entire
Church were bearing us up, and that gave renewed strength and courage
all along the way. Those prayers buoyed us up as we went forth even into
the blackness of heathendom; they opened doors that otherwise would have
been closed; yes, and best of all, they opened dark hearts that the
light of the glorious Gospel of Christ might penetrate. Those prayers
yet today are rising as sweet incense in behalf of the Dark Continent.
CHAPTER TWO
The Voyage and Landing
Now the Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country and from
thy kindred and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew
thee.--Gen. 12: 1.
Seventeen years ago a voyage to Africa was not the common occurrence to
us plain country folk that it is today. The majority of us had never
seen the sea, we knew no one who had made the trip, and we knew less
about the continent of Africa.
It had been decided that we should sail November 24, 1897. While Elder
and Mrs. Engle were making their tour of the churches, some of us had
finished visiting and were waiting the time of sailing. So he suggested
that we secure the tickets. We did so to England, and through an agent,
Mr. Mills, of England, arranged in advance for tickets from England to
Cape Town. The tickets were bought, the good-byes were over, and the
date of sailing found us all at New York Harbor, a little anxious, it is
true, but eager to launch.
Being inexperienced, we had a little difficulty in having some money
matters attended to. Sister Hershey and myself had each a draft which we
desired to have exchanged for one on an English bank, and were told by
one of the men to take them to the bank on which they were drawn and
have it attended to there. So we were obliged to go up into the city
the morning of the date of sailing, when the steamer was to leave at 12
M. We were gone all morning, only to find on reaching the bank that
there was no one to identify us, and nothing could be done. Hurrying
back to the hotel, we secured our hand baggage and hastened to the
wharf. The rest of the company had already embarked, and only a few
minutes remained until time of sailing, but we appealed to our agent to
exchange the drafts for some on an English bank. Although one of the
other men objected on account of the shortness of time, he promptly
attended to them, Elders Jacob Engle and John Niesly, who were brothers
of Brother and Sister Engle and had come to see them off, going
security. The gangway for passengers had already been removed from the
steamer and we hurried along that on which baggage was carried. As soon
as we were aboard, the steamer _Majestic_ began to move; and ere we
found the rest of our company on board, a narrow stretch of water lay
between us and our native land.
This, our first voyage across the Atlantic, was a delightful one. The
sea was unusually calm for that season of the year, so that none of our
number became sick, except one, as we neared the coast of Ireland. The
passengers on board were on the whole congenial. As we paced up and down
the deck, many thoughts crowded in upon us too deep for utterance. What
did the future have in store for us? What awaited us on the other side?
The Lord alone, whose messengers we were, could foresee. The great,
wide, boundless space of water was an ever-increasing source of
interest and delight, and greatly enlarged our conception of the power
and majesty of Him "who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His
hand." We felt in truth that we had let go the shore lines and had
launched out into the ocean of His love.
The second day out was Thanksgiving Day, and in company with another
missionary on board we had a very enjoyable service which was attended
by most of the second-class passengers. Sunday morning there were the
regulation Church of England services, and later our genial table
steward asked Elder Engle to preach in the evening. He did so to a
large, intelligent, and interested congregation. As there had been much
conjecture among the passengers as to who we were, and what our belief
was, he embraced the opportunity, while speaking, of setting forth some
of the tenets of our faith, much to the satisfaction of those present.
On November 31 the steamer reached Liverpool, England, and the first
part of the voyage was at an end. As we stood on deck gazing at the
strange scenes around us and at the sea of unfamiliar faces looking up
into ours, and awaiting our turn to disembark, we realized in truth that
we were strangers in a strange land. How was our agent to be found on
that crowded wharf?--but this question was quickly settled. No sooner
had we stepped off the gangway, than a gentleman approached, and, naming
us, introduced himself as Mr. Mills, our agent. What a relief it was to
all of us in our ignorance of foreign travel! We were thus forcibly
reminded that He was going before and preparing the way so that we need
have no anxious fear. This thought was further impressed upon our minds
as we entered our room in the little hotel in Liverpool, for there, on
the opposite wall, as we opened the door were the words, "The Lord shall
be thy confidence." Mr. Mills then and there took charge of us and our
baggage and did not relax his vigilance until we had safely embarked for
South Africa.
Fortunate it was that our baggage was in such good hands, for part of it
had been miscarried and reached the steamer at Southampton only about an
hour before we left that port for South Africa. English travel has many
things to recommend it, some of which Americans would do well to profit
by; but one learns to appreciate the excellent system of handling
baggage in America only after he has had a little experience of the
slipshod manner in vogue abroad. This fact was again brought to my
attention on my first furlough to America nearly seven years later. When
I disembarked at New York, an English lady from the same steamer bought
a railroad ticket from New York to San Francisco and checked her
baggage.
I said to her, "Now you need not trouble yourself about your baggage
until you reach your destination."
"So they tell me," she replied. "It will seem so strange to travel
without having to look after one's luggage."
One is pleased to note, however, that the increased amount of foreign
travel of late years has brought about some improvement along this line,
even in conservative England.
The ride from Liverpool to London was most enjoyable, and would have
been still more so had there been some one to point out the places of
interest. The fields, still green at that late date, were well kept; but
the methods employed in farming seemed somewhat antiquated to people
fresh from the farms of western America. As the train glided along we
were favored with a glimpse of a hunting party in their brilliant
colored costumes in pursuit of the poor little animals on one of the
game reserves. The small private compartments on the train were a
pleasing novelty, but there was no one to call off the names of the
cities through which the train was passing, and the surroundings were
too new for us to know where to look for the names. Once when the guard
came to examine our tickets, I inquired the name of the place.
Concluding from his silence that he had not understood, I ventured to
repeat the question. The stare he gave made me realize that I had been
guilty of a breach of something, but what it was is not exactly clear to
me to this day. We also had a glimpse of London, that great metropolis,
with its narrow, crowded streets, its rush of business, and its
perfectly-controlled business traffic. Here our company was met by
another agent, who conveyed us to Black Wall and placed us on the
steamer _Pembroke Castle_, of the Union Castle Line, for a three weeks'
voyage to Cape Town.
The associations on the _Majestic_ had been pleasant and we expected a
similar experience on this second steamer; but the long voyage to Cape
Town leaves much to be desired. One may always find some congenial
spirits, but even under the best circumstances the voyage finally
becomes tiresome. Only too often the more turbulent element gains the
upperhand, so that drinking, gambling, dancing, and even grosser evils
prevail.
After sailing from Southampton one soon leaves behind the cold, chilly
winds of the temperate climate and begins to enjoy the soft, balmy
breezes of the subtropical climate. However, as the heat becomes more
intense, this enjoyment gradually gives place to discomfort. The only
stop on the way to Cape Town was at Las Palmas, on Canary Island. As we
approached the place, the low-lying mountain peaks could have been
mistaken for clouds, but soon the entire island lay before us in all its
beauty. What appeared at first sight to be bare cliffs were soon seen to
be clothed with verdure; and while we were feasting our eyes on the
scene, on one side of the steamer, our attention was called to the
opposite side where the city of Las Palmas lay. It was indeed a
magnificent scene and beggars description. The city, which is almost
entirely white, rises tier after tier up the mountain side, and the
whole had a dark background of mountain peaks. We were in the bay with
the island nearly surrounding us. In a short time our steamer was
encompassed by a number of small boats full of natives, some of whom
came to sell their wares of fruit or fancywork. Other boats were full of
diving boys, ready to plunge into the sea for money thrown from the
steamer into the water.
In a short time the steamer was again on its way; but where was it
taking the little band of missionaries? and what was to be their final
destination? Their tickets called for Cape Town, but beyond that the way
seemed like a sealed book. Africa, with its barbarism, its unknown
depths, its gross darkness, lay before them; and they were keenly
conscious of their ignorance of the continent. They had implicit
confidence, however, in their Great Leader, and believed that they were
going to a place which the Lord said He would show them. Many prayers
ascended that they might understand His voice when He spoke to them.
Personally their ideas about the location of the work differed. At first
Elder Engle felt drawn for various reasons towards the Transvaal (not
Johannesburg), because that was not so far inland. To one of the party
the call had been distinctly into the interior and most needy regions
where Christ had not been named. All, however, were ready to let the
Lord lead.
A number of the passengers on the steamer were familiar with some parts
of Africa and gave valuable information. One of the officers, the chief
engineer, was especially helpful. He brought out his maps and went
carefully over the ground, showing where missionaries were located and
where there was need. Ere the party left the steamer, the consensus of
opinion seemed to be that Rhodesia, or the part of it known as
Matabeleland, was the Lord's place for them to begin aggressive
missionary work. This was further confirmed when it was learned that the
Cape to Cairo Railroad had just been completed as far as Bulawayo, the
chief town of Matabeleland.
This having been decided upon, the next question was as to how long they
were to remain at Cape Town before proceeding into the interior. The
amount of money at their disposal was not large, and as it was the
Lord's money it was necessary to know His will as to its disposal. They
soon learned that He was continuing to go before and prepare the way.
Those were precious days of waiting on Him; for never does His will and
guidance seem so precious as when He is showing only one step at a time,
and as one becomes willing to take that, lo! another is revealed just
beyond. Why then do we so often halt, fearing to walk alone with Him,
knowing that we cannot stumble as long as we keep hold of His dear hand?
On December 26 the steamer entered beautiful Table Bay, and the long
voyage was over. Praises ascended to Him Who had given such a prosperous
journey. It was Sunday when land was reached and the passengers were
allowed to remain on board the steamer until Monday if they so desired.
All of us attended divine services on land Sunday morning, and in the
afternoon Brother and Sister Engle went to the Y. W. C. A. Building
where the Secretary, Miss Reed, offered to help them look for rooms.
They accordingly went on Monday morning, the rest of us remaining with
the boxes and in prayer. They at first were unsuccessful in securing
rooms, but after again looking to the Lord for guidance, Miss Reed was
impressed to take them to a Mrs. Lewis (nee Shriner), a prominent
temperance and reform worker of Cape Town, and a most devoted
Christian. This lady was a friend in need to many of God's children. She
had lately rented a large building in connection with her work; but the
venture had not been as successful as she had hoped, and she was in
prayer about the matter, pleading that the place might be made a
blessing to some one. Even as she prayed, three persons stood at her
door desiring to speak with her. These were Miss Reed and Elder and Mrs.
Engle, whom the Lord had directed thither. As soon as she heard their
errand, she felt that here was an answer to her prayer. Arrangements
were immediately made by which they were to receive three
plainly-furnished rooms for a sum which was very moderate indeed for
Cape Town. She said she would prefer to give the rooms gratis if she
were in a position financially to do so. Together they fell on their
knees and thanked the Lord for answered prayer which meant so much to
all concerned. When Elder Engle returned to the waiting ones their
hearts, too, leaped for joy at the good news. They thought it was almost
too good to be true, that so soon rooms had been secured, and that they
were to have a little home of their own without the expenses of a hotel.
Truly, "He is able to do exceeding abundantly all that we ask or think."
Boxes were soon transferred to the new home and our feet planted firmly
on African soil.
CHAPTER THREE
Preparation and Progress
We were here on the threshold of Africa, eager to move out. We realized,
however, how meager was our knowledge of this vast continent and its
needs, so it was necessary to go slow and gain all possible information
from this vantage ground.
Cape Town is the oldest of South African cities and is the largest
seaport town, having a population of about 80,000 inhabitants. The long,
tiresome sea voyage being over, the sight of this picturesque city,
nestling so cozily at the foot of Table Mountain, is one long to be
remembered. The mountain rises abruptly 3,850 feet in the background of
the city. Its majestic flat top is two miles long, and when the weather
is clear, it stands sharply outlined against the blue sky. Frequently,
however, a white cloud, known as the "Table Cloth," comes up from the
sea from the back of the mountain and rolls down over the face, a sign
that a change of weather is imminent. It has been said, "The glory of
Table Bay is Table Mountain," and "The glory of Table Mountain is the
Table Cloth." Bay, town, and mountain combine to make the picture
beautiful and unique of its kind.
Cape Town was laid out by the Dutch, and the substantial,
antiquated-looking houses in the older parts of the city bear ample
testimony to this fact. There are also many fine, modernly-built houses.
The place is supplied with all the latest improvements, which are a
necessary part of a modern city. The population is most varied. Dutch,
English, Hottentots, Malays, and Kafirs abound. The scenes on some of
the streets at that time, especially in the evenings and on holidays,
were most varied and picturesque. There were to be seen Europeans in
civilian dress, others in soldier's uniform, Malays in their turbans and
bright, flowing robes, well-dressed blacks, and the raw native African
with only a gunny sack to cover him, for clothed he must be before he
can enter the city.
Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, together with other Christian people whom we met at
Cape Town, thought Matabeleland, the chosen field, was a good one,
especially the Matopo Hills, as there were no missionaries in that
locality. The late Cecil Rhodes, who was still powerful in Rhodesia, was
at that time living on his estate, Groot Schuur, near Cape Town, and
Bishop Engle was advised to go to him and endeavor to obtain from him a
tract of land for a mission site. This was another special season of
looking to the Lord on the part of the little company, that He might
overrule it to His glory and to the advancement of His Kingdom. Brother
Engle was received kindly by the gentleman, and his request was
favorably considered, especially the suggestion of going to the Matopo
Hills. He at once gave Brother Engle a letter to the British Charter
Company, of Rhodesia, with the recommendation that we be given 3,000
acres of land in the Matopo Hills for a mission station. He added that
"missionaries are better than policemen and cheaper."
Every forward step only served to confirm us in the decision on the
steamer that Matabeleland, which is a part of Rhodesia, was the Lord's
place for opening up His work in Africa. The fact that the railroad had
just shortly before been completed that far, thus making it easier of
access; the advice of those on the steamer who were familiar with the
country; the advice of the spiritually-minded friends met at Cape Town,
and the encouragement given by him, the "Empire Builder," who perhaps
more than anyone else had the welfare of the country at heart and whose
name, Rhodesia, the country bore, together with the conviction of the
missionaries themselves, all served to set at rest any further question
as to location that might arise.
Sister Hershey, it is true, was somewhat burdened as to whether Rhodesia
was the Lord's place for her. While she was seeking to know His will in
the matter, she received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Worcester, of
Johannesburg, inviting her to come and assist in the missionary work at
the Compounds. She felt at once that this was the Lord's place for her,
and accepted it as from Him. We were truly sorry to lose so valuable and
consecrated a colaborer in the work, but felt to bow in submission to
Him Who knoweth best.
While we were waiting at Cape Town, we learned that the Tebele language
spoken by the natives in Matopo Hills and vicinity was a dialect of the
Zulu language. The Bible had been translated into the Zulu, and there
were grammars and dictionaries to be had, and we at once endeavored to
procure these so that we might do some studying. Efforts were also made
to secure a teacher, but the Zulu teacher recommended did not have
sufficient English to be of any real service to us except in the
pronunciation of Zulu words, so we were obliged to study on alone and
consequently made very little progress.
We had arrived at Cape Town in the midst of the summer and dry season.
Like California, Cape Town and vicinity have rains chiefly in the
winter, and a most healthful climate the year round. Other parts of
South Africa, however, have their rainy season in the summer, and in
some localities, notably Rhodesia and farther inland, the deadly
malarial fever is especially severe during the rainy season. So we were
advised to remain at Cape Town until the rains were over in Rhodesia.
Mr. Lewis was contemplating going north with us to assist Brother Engle
in opening the work; but before this could be accomplished, both he and
Mrs. Lewis were summoned north to Bulawayo by a telegram to minister to
one of their friends there who was very sick.
After reaching Bulawayo they immediately sent a telegram south telling
us to remain at Cape Town, and under no consideration to venture into
the interior until the rains were over. As if to emphasize the message,
both of them, while attending to the sick, were stricken with fever, and
all were obliged to hasten south as soon as possible. We also came into
contact with some of the Seventh Day Adventists in Cape Town, and
through them learned that two of their missionaries in Rhodesia had
just succumbed to the fever.
From the illness brought on at this time Mr. Lewis never fully
recovered, and shortly after our departure from Cape Town, we learned,
much to our sorrow, that he had been carried away by the disease. We
were often made to feel, as Mrs. Lewis expressed it, that the Lord had
sent them before us to preserve life. Otherwise we would undoubtedly
have gone to Bulawayo at an earlier date than we did and would probably
have had to suffer in consequence. We shall never forget the great
kindness of these friends during the entire four months of our stay at
Cape Town. The wise counsel, the spiritual and financial aid which they
gave, will ever be a green spot in our memory. And not only then, but in
later years, Mrs. Lewis' home, "The Highlands," and her large heart were
ever open to our missionaries. As each recruit stepped foot on Africa's
shores she was the first to welcome him. When any needed rest, her house
was wide open for any who might choose to come and rest there. When a
few years ago word came that she had gone to meet her Savior Whom she so
much loved, we all felt that we had indeed lost a friend that could not
be replaced.
At last the time came when it was considered safe to move out, Sister
Hershey to Johannesburg and the rest to Bulawayo. Mrs. Lewis had given
us a nice large tent, 16 x 16 feet, which could be used as a dwelling
place while huts were being built, and she had also on her trip north
met some of the white people of Bulawayo who were ready to assist us.
Other friends at Cape Town also kindly helped us on the way.
On April 28, 1898, we took the train at Cape Town, bound for Bulawayo,
1,362 miles inland. We traveled four days and four nights in a
comfortable coach and reached the place May 2. The same journey formerly
required six months and longer with an ox team. We passed through only a
few towns worthy the name; Kimberley, the center of the diamond mines,
being the principal one. Some of the country through which we passed
looked like a desert; not a blade of grass to be seen, but the red sand
is covered with bushes. This is known as the Karroo, and, as rain seldom
falls on much of this land, one is surprised to see flocks of sheep and
here and there an ostrich farm. There are many flat-topped mountains and
hills, at the foot of which one occasionally catches sight of a
farmhouse with its accompanying sheep pen. A letter sent to America at
the time adds:
Parts greatly resemble Kansas prairies, while the last four or five
hundred miles of the journey the country looks like old, deserted
orchards. We were also introduced to African life in its primitive
state, and during the latter part of the journey no white people
were visible save the few connected with the railway service, but
many native huts were to be seen. Some were made of mud, others
formed of poles covered with various-colored cloth, forming a
veritable patchwork, while the natives in semi-nude condition came
crowding about the car windows, begging for money and food. How my
heart bled for these poor souls! Although the railroad was built,
ostensibly, for the purpose of developing the commercial and mining
interests of the country; yet, as I looked upon those poor natives,
I wondered whether the real
purpose of it under the Providence of God was not to bring the
Gospel to them. Other missionaries are here before us, but I
believe we are the first to make use of the new railroad for this
purpose.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matabeleland
Before proceeding with my story let me introduce to my readers the
people and the country to which we had come. The Matabele are a branch
of the Zulu tribe of Southeast Africa. During the reign of the great and
despotic Zulu King, Tyaka, they revolted under the leadership of
Mzilikazi, or Moselikatse, and started north through Africa, proving a
terror to the various tribes along the way and meeting with numerous
hardships and varying degrees of success. About the year 1836 found them
in this country, to which they gave the name Matabeleland. This land,
together with Mashonaland, constitutes what is now known as Southern
Rhodesia.
Here they established themselves by ruthlessly slaughtering all who
opposed them, and enslaving the natives already in the country. After
the death of Mzilikazi, his son, Lobengula, became King. He was more or
less tyrannical, like his father, and he lived with his sixty wives
about two miles from what is now known as Bulawayo--the killing
place--or, as the natives often say, "o Bulawayo," meaning murderer. A
rock near this place is still pointed out as the place where a number of
his wives met a violent death.
This King Lobengula ruled his people with a rod of iron. The young men
were all enlisted in his army and the women and children left to carry
on the work in the gardens and kraals. Rev. Helm, one of the first
missionaries in the country, said it was impossible to get hold of the
young men; and even if the boys did start to school, the King would take
them for his own use as soon as they were old enough. He, however, never
molested the missionaries themselves, and probably considered it an
honor to have a white teacher in the country; but, as Mrs. Helm
remarked, they were careful not to offend him.
The British Charter Company had obtained some concessions from the King
in 1889, and, in the next year, Europeans entered the country to
prospect and mine the gold. It was a foreseen conclusion that there
would eventually be a conflict between a savage despot, to whom many of
the white people were obliged to cringe, and a civilized people. The
inevitable reached a climax in 1893, when war broke out between the King
and the white people of the country. There were only a few white men in
the country at that time, but assegais and other native weapons were no
match for Maxim guns and European tactics. The King's house being burnt,
he himself fled and eventually died in January, 1894, thus causing the
war suddenly to come to an end, as there remained no one to keep the
forces together. The British South African Company took possession and
began to occupy and build up the country.
The Matabele, however, did not consider themselves conquered, and many
circumstances conspired to bring about a second conflict. Perhaps the
chief among these was the fact that all the cattle were regarded as the
property of the King, although being distributed among the people and
used by them as their own. However, since the cattle belonged to the
King, the British Company looked upon them as theirs by right of
conquest, and proceeded to appropriate some of them. This greatly
angered the natives, as also the rinderpest, which came later and swept
off many of the remaining cattle. Then 400 of the subject tribes were
armed and enlisted as native police; and this was most galling to the
proud Matabele warriors, that they should be exulted over by their
former slaves. The disease among their cattle, the locust, which
devoured their crops, and numerous other troubles were all, by their
witch doctors, laid at the door of the white man. Umlimo (their god)
also affirmed that their King was still alive and was ready to assist
them in gaining their liberty.
This second conflict, known as the Matabele Rebellion of 1896, came very
suddenly upon the 4,000 white people, scattered in various parts of the
country. No one seemed to expect danger, although there were several who
had had a little warning, and many natives who were working in Bulawayo
were called home by their parents. One boy in speaking of the time said:
"I was working in Bulawayo when my father sent word that I was to come
home. I did not want to but I was afraid to disobey. I was afraid to
look at my father, he looked like a mad man. He said, 'We cannot live
and be oppressed like this. We would rather die than be treated as we
are!'
"The rest of the people, too, looked just that way!"
The natives rose against the Europeans and suddenly murdered 200 in the
outlying districts, including a number of women and children. Some of
these were murdered by their own servants. The rest of the white people
hastily gathered into the new town of Bulawayo, while soldiers scoured
the country in search of native troops. A large number of the native
police had gone over to the enemy, carrying their rifles with them, and
a number of the natives, both in Matabeleland and Mashonaland, had in
some way secured several thousand firearms; so that in this war the
natives were much better prepared.
This rebellion lasted eight months, and the natives were finally driven
into the Matopo Hills. In these, nature's vast strongholds and caves,
all efforts of the European soldiers to dislodge them proved unavailing.
Here finally came Mr. Rhodes, unarmed, into the midst of the enemy's
camp and made peace with them. The tree under which this famous council
was held is still pointed out not many miles from where Matopo Mission
now is. We entered the country a little over a year after the close of
the rebellion, while all the causes and events were still fresh in the
minds of the natives. What is still more significant, we were located in
the very heart of these hills where no missionary had yet penetrated,
and being surrounded by many of the rebels themselves, we were able to
glean much of the above history at first hand. When we went among them
they were still seething with discontent from the same cause which led
to the Rebellion.
Mr. Rhodes, who had made peace with these natives, was always respected
and trusted by them, and while he was no religious man himself, he
thoroughly believed in missionary work among the people. His desire that
we come to these hills and his statement, that "missionaries are better
than policemen, and cheaper," was actuated by no mercenary motive. It
was his conviction, borne out by experience and by long years of contact
with the Africans, that missionary work and the Christianization of the
natives was the only solution of the native problems.
But to return to our story, we arrived at Bulawayo late in the evening
and were taken to the Royal Hotel. This was a good, up-to-date hotel,
with an up-to-date African price. In the morning, as we looked out of
the window, the first sight which greeted our eyes was a large African
wagon drawn by eighteen oxen. Except for this and similar sights we
could easily have imagined that we were in an American town, for this
place, with broad streets and thriving business, is said to have been
patterned somewhat after American cities. My impressions of the town and
vicinity written at the time were as follows:
Bulawayo is a modern wonder, an oasis of civilization in the midst
of a desert of barbarism and heathendom. It has nearly 3,000
inhabitants, and has been built since 1894. Before that time
Lobengula, the great Matabele King, held sway about two miles from
here at the place where the Government House now stands. This place
reminds one of the booming Kansas towns of a few
years ago, but it is hundreds of miles from any other civilized
place, and is well built of brick and iron, has good stores of all
kinds, five churches, public library, electric lights and
telephone, not only in town, but also extending to various police
forts in the surrounding country, but no public schools. There are
comfortable riding cabs, or traps, drawn by horses or mules, but
the traffic is carried on by heavy carts or still heavier wagons
drawn by a large number of oxen or donkeys. The manual labor is
done chiefly by the native boys, the white people considering it
beneath their dignity to do anything a native can do.
The surrounding country is very pretty and level, and one can see an
abundance of the "golden sands" mentioned by the poet, and even gold
sands are not wanting, but I am sorry to say that the "sunny
fountains" rolling down them are very few, especially at this season
of the year when there are seven months of drought!
This for Bulawayo in 1898 and first impressions.
We remained at the hotel only two days. Our tent and the other goods had
not yet arrived, but a gentleman, to whom we had a letter of
introduction through Mrs. Lewis, most kindly offered the use of his
house and furniture for two weeks, which offer was gratefully accepted.
Before the end of that time our tent had arrived, and this being placed
on a vacant lot furnished ample protection for that season of the year.
Bulawayo, being of such recent growth and being surrounded by pagan
tribes, would have afforded abundant opportunity for missionary work.
Daily these raw natives would come to our tent door to sell wood or
other articles; and we longed to tell them something of a Savior's love,
had we been able to speak to them. One morning thirteen native women,
each with a great load of wood on her head, arranged themselves, smiling
and expectant, before the door of our tent. We could only smile in
return, that one touch of nature's language which is akin the world
over. We were thankful that we could do so much, but back of the smile
was a heavy heart that we could do so little.
During the two months we remained at Bulawayo efforts were made to
secure a suitable location among the Matopo Hills. Mr. Rhodes' letter
had been delivered to the government officials, and they generously
undertook to assist in locating the work. The first place to which they
took Brother Engle--the one recommended by Mr. Rhodes--was found to have
been surveyed by a private individual. They then made another selection,
about thirty miles southeast of Bulawayo, the place now known as Matopo
Mission, and they agreed to give us here a Mission Reservation of 3,000
acres. The officials, as well as other Europeans in Bulawayo, rendered
us much assistance. In addition to these the Seventh Day Adventist
missionaries also greatly helped us on the way. These had a mission
station about thirty miles west of Bulawayo, and about fifty miles from
the place selected for us; and while we were waiting in Bulawayo, they
kindly took out, at different times, Brother and Sister Engle and Sister
Heise, for a visit to their station.
The time came for us to move out to our location among the hills, and
the question of how we should get ourselves and our goods to the place
was becoming a serious one. Transportation, like everything else in the
interior of Africa, was exceedingly expensive. In this emergency Mr.
Anderson, of the Seventh Day Adventist Mission, offered to come that
long way with his donkey wagon and move us for half the sum required by
a regular transport driver.
It is difficult for the reader to form any conception of what these
various expressions of kindness along the way, coming so unexpectedly
from entire strangers, meant to that little band of missionaries out in
the heart of Africa. Even as I write these things, after a lapse of
sixteen years, and live over the events of that time, tears of joy
unbidden come and my heart wells up in gratitude as I again recall these
evidences of the wonderful "faithfulness of a faithful God."
We had been ignorant of our destination when we left the American shore,
and even more ignorant of the cost of living in the interior of Africa;
so that, by the time supplies had been purchased to take along to the
hills, the money on hand was about exhausted. We knew not how long a
time would elapse before a fresh supply could reach us. Knowing, too,
that the Church had very little experience in foreign missionary work,
one could not fail at times to be a little anxious. Thanks, however, to
the wisdom, ability, and promptness displayed by the old fathers who
formed the Mission Board, and to their support, backed up by the Church;
as soon as conditions were understood at home means were forthcoming and
we were never allowed to be in want.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Opening of the Work
We must remember that it was not by interceding for the world in glory
that Jesus saved it. He gave Himself. Our prayers for the evangelization
of the world are but a bitter irony so long as we only give of our
superfluity and draw back before the sacrifice of ourselves.--M.
Francois Coillard.
We heartily echo the words of this sainted missionary to the Barotse,
but we believe that the thought uppermost in the heart of each of the
four waiting ones at Bulawayo was not sacrifice but privilege, on that
July morning, so long ago, when the command to go forward was given. We
were soon to reach our destination, the place to which we had started
from New York over seven months previously. An account of this trip
written at the time reads somewhat as follows:
We left Bulawayo on the evening of July 4 and traveled three nights
and two days before the mission valley was reached. The nights were
cool and a bright moon lighted up the way, so that traveling went
better at night than during the heat of the day. The wagon was
about eighteen feet long, very strong and heavy, and was drawn by
eighteen donkeys. These were led by one native boy, while another
with a long whip was doing the driving. The load of about three
tons was very heavy--too heavy, in fact, for a part of the way.
Donkeys can travel only two miles an hour on good roads and on poor
roads it sometimes requires two hours to go one mile. Occasionally
we stopped from two to four hours to let the donkeys rest and
graze.
During such times we would build fire on the veldt, and cook and eat
our food; or, if it were night, we would wrap our blankets about us,
take our pillows, and lie down in the shelter of some friendly bush
and sleep. Mother Engle usually preferred the shelter of the tent on
the back of the wagon, although the place was too much crowded for her
to rest comfortably. Since the load was so heavy we spent a great deal
of the time walking. We would walk ahead of the wagon for a distance,
then sit down and rest until the wagon reached us. Only two of three
settlers' houses were visible, and no native kraals, and we were
informed that as soon as the white man makes a road, the natives move
away from it.
After twenty miles of travel we came to Fort Usher. At this place
there reside an English magistrate and a number of white police. Here
we were kindly received and given a native guide for the rest of the
journey. We now left the government road and plunged into the hills.
The wagon went along another five miles with very little difficulty.
Then it mired on going through a swampy place, one side sinking nearly
to the hubs of the wheels, and further progress was impossible. All
put forth every effort to extricate it but to no avail. What was to be
done?
While we were in this dilemma, the Chief of the natives in this part
of the country, Hluganisa by name, with some natives came to meet us
and bid us welcome. They gave us a very friendly reception, and then
joined in to assist in extricating the wagon, but without success. Mr.
Anderson, who could speak the native language, explained to the chief
who we were and our object in coming, and he promised to meet us at
the mission site the next day, as it was now evening.
Mr. Anderson then took our party forward a little distance to a dry
spot, where we rested during the night. He and his native boys
returned to the wagon, and, removing the greater part of the load,
carried it beyond the marshy place. The donkeys were then able to pull
out the wagon. It is needless to add that Mr. Anderson and his boys
were extremely tired after this laborious task and were glad to
snatch a little rest. Even under such circumstances they did not
indulge long in the much-needed rest, but at an early hour were
again ready for the journey. Those of us who had enjoyed a good
night's rest were also aroused, and we started on our last trek
into the hills. We reached the valley, which is to be our home, on
the morning of July 7.
This valley is surrounded by immense granite hills and boulders, some
of which cover hundreds of acres, so that at first sight the rocks
seem to constitute the chief part of the country, but a closer
inspection showed us to what a beautiful place God had led us for His
work. There, spread out before our eyes, was a beautiful rolling
valley of rich, dark earth, well supplied with an abundance of fresh
water. It was stated that the "sunny fountains" are rare in this part
of Africa, and that is true. Here, however, in this beautiful valley,
in the heart of Matopo Hills, are sparkling fountains of beautiful
water, crystal clear, oozing from under the surface of the rocks, and
flowing down the valley. Some contain delicate mosses and pretty water
lilies, and surpass the Michigan lakes in transparency.
In the meantime the Chief had sent word to the headmen of the various
kraals to meet us. So, in the morning, obedient to the call of their
superior, they came and sat in a semi-circle while their chief
addressed them (Mr. Anderson interpreting for our benefit):
"These are not like other white people."
The deep-toned voices of the headmen responded in unison, "Yes, my
lord."
He continued, "They have come to teach you and your children and to do
you good."
Again came the response, "Yes, my lord."
"Now do what you can for them and help them."
And again the same response was repeated.
One may imagine how that impressed us. Here we are, far from other
white people, among a class of natives who have never been subdued by
the English soldiers. They are kept in subjection only by forts of
police stationed among the hills, the nearest being ten miles distant.
Yet these people recognized us at once as their friends and received
us with kindness far above what we dared expect. Our hearts overflow
with thankfulness to Him who rules the hearts of men.
The Chief and one or two other natives went with us to look up a
location on which to pitch the tent and build huts. The tent was finally
pitched under the shade of a large umkuni tree, Mr. Anderson returned to
his station, and we were left without an interpreter, and with no
practical knowledge of mission work. We had, however, a Great Teacher,
and we were willing to be taught.
Both Matabele and their subject races, known as Amahole, live in the
Matopo Hills. The majority of them are not black, but a chocolate brown,
and some have features resembling white people. They are generally
large, well-formed, and intelligent-looking. They are more or less rude
in manner, uncouth in appearance, and wear little or no clothing except
the loin cloth. This in the men usually consists of the skin of small
animals, and among the women a short skirt of cloth or skins. Over the
upper part of the body is sometimes thrown a larger piece of cloth.
Among those that gathered about us that first day were some who had been
quite active in the late rebellion. As we gained their confidence, they
often pointed out to us the caves where they stored their grain, and
where they themselves hid during that terrible time. A year of famine
had followed the war, and some had starved to death. At the time we
entered upon the work there was a great deal of destitution all about
us; for some had not yet been able to grow grain, and they had no flocks
to fall back upon as they usually had in time of grain famine.
Many of the white people in the country and in Bulawayo were continually
talking about and expecting another uprising. They looked for it to come
from these Matopo Hill natives, and some sought to warn us not to
venture into this, the enemy's stronghold. We, however, living among
them from day to day, saw no cause for fear.
The natives came to see us in large numbers. Sometimes fifty would
appear in one day and crowd around the door of our tent, desiring to
have a good view of the newcomers and their belongings. Many of them,
especially the women and children, had never seen a white person before,
or at most a white woman. Some three or four families had heard a little
of Jesus, but the great majority knew absolutely nothing of the Gospel.
Our ignorance, both of the language and the people, led to many
blunders, both ludicrous and otherwise. The desire to help them and to
show them that we were their friends caused them often to take advantage
of our kindness. We soon learned that the African is not so much
interested in the things that are for the good of his soul as in that
which ministers to his body and appetite. It was so difficult to know
just what to do at all times, for they were destitute of nearly
everything which we considered necessary for comfort. They were
confirmed beggars, and the more they received the more they wanted. The
missionary opens his Bible, and reads, "He that hath two coats, let him
impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat let him do
likewise"; he then gets down on his knees and prays that the Lord might
help the poor souls about him, but he often feels that his prayers do
not ascend very high. What he needs to do is to get up and answer his
own prayers.
[Illustration: Hut Built by H. Frances Davidson and Alice Heise at
Matopo.]
When we made a contract with them for work, and told them what pay they
would receive, they always wanted more than the contract called for when
the time came to settle. This is characteristic of the native in dealing
with the white man. He sees that the other has clothing and many
comforts of which he is deprived, hence concludes that the pockets of
the white man are full of money. Socialist that he naturally is, he
thinks that the property should be equally distributed. It never occurs
to him that his laziness and shiftlessness have much to do with his
destitution. In fact, that thought does not generally occur to the
missionary when he goes among the heathen for the first time, unless he
is with some one who understands the situation.
It is necessary to make the natives understand at times that the
kindness of even the missionary has a limit. One day I was in the little
straw shed which served as a kitchen, and was endeavoring to bake bread.
As usual a number of people were about the door, and one man, taking
advantage of my kindness, came in and sat down by the stove in front of
the bake-oven door. He made no effort in the least to move away when I
tried to look into the oven door. I bore it for some time, not wishing
to be rude to him, and not knowing how to ask him in a polite way to
move. Suddenly it dawned upon me that the proper native word was _suka_.
So I made use of the word and told him to _suka_. He looked up in
surprise and repeated the word to know if he had correctly understood,
but he moved. Afterwards, in looking for the word in my dictionary, I
found that it was a word often in the mouth of the white man when
addressing a native. It really meant a rough "Get out of this." So the
look of mild reproach in the eyes of the native was accounted for. Some
of the softness in the missionary, too, soon wears off as he is obliged
to deal with the native from day to day. He finds that it is necessary
to make the native understand their relation one to another as teacher
and pupil.
Living in a tent during the dry and healthy season is not unpleasant in
such a climate, except that one suffers from the heat by day and the
cold by night.
Matopo Mission is located about 20-1/2 deg. south latitude and 29 deg. east
longitude. It is 5,000 feet above sea level, so that, although it is
within the tropics, it has a delightful and salubrious climate the
entire year. From the middle of November to the middle of April is what
is known as the rainy season. The rest of the year rain seldom falls.
One cannot live in a tent all the year, but must provide better shelter
for the rainy season. So hut building occupied the first few months. We
had no wagon and no oxen, nothing but two little donkeys, which had been
brought out with us from Bulawayo, and we did not know how to make the
best use of native help. The poles used in the construction of the huts
were cut and carried to the place of building by natives.
As the manner of building was quite foreign to an American, Brother
Engle took occasion to examine other huts, built by Europeans, so that
he was enabled to build very good ones for the mission. He was alone
and, to make the work lighter, we women assisted, and used hammer, saw,
and trowel, brought stones for building chimneys, raked grass, and
assisted in thatching. The huts are built somewhat as follows:
A trench about fifteen inches deep is dug the size and shape of the
desired hut. In this are placed, near together, poles from the forest,
space being allowed for doors and windows and sometimes for fireplace.
The poles are cut out so as to extend about eight feet above ground.
Large ones are sawed lengthwise for door posts and window frames. Some
flexible poles are nailed around the top and about halfway up the side,
so that the walls of the hut are firmly fastened together. Longer poles
are then used as rafters, these being firmly fastened to the walls and
nailed together at the top. Small, flexible ones are also used as lath
to fasten the rafters together and upon which to tie the grass in
thatching. The grass used for this purpose grows in abundance among
these rocks, and sometimes reaches the height of eight feet. The women
cut this and bring it in bundles, glad to exchange it for a little salt.
It is first combed by means of spikes driven through a board. It is then
divided into small bundles; the lower ends being placed evenly together,
and the bundles tied closely together on the lath with tarred rope. The
next layer is placed over this like shingles, so as to cover the place
of tying. When completed the thickness of grass on the eaves of the roof
is from four to ten inches. Then follows the plastering. The mud or
plaster is made from earth which had been worked over by white ants.
This, pounded fine and mixed with water, makes an excellent plaster, and
when placed on the walls it soon dries and becomes very hard. The native
women put this on the outside with their hands, as the walls are too
uneven to allow the use of a trowel. Similar earth, mixed with sand, is
used as mortar in building with brick and stone. The floors also are of
this earth pounded hard and polished.
The windows have either small panes of glass or muslin stretched on a
frame, and the doors boast of imported timber brought from Bulawayo.
Each hut is about as large as an average-sized room. It is difficult to
make them larger on account of the scarcity of suitable material in this
part of the country. The walls are whitewashed on the inside, and some
have a white muslin ceiling. Much of the furniture is of our own
manufacture and is made of boxes or of native poles draped with calico.
When completed the rooms looked quite cozy and comfortable, so that we
felt thankful for such pleasant homes in connection with our work. The
first year there were four of such huts built, kitchen, dining-hut, and
two sleeping-rooms.
Dealing with the natives while building these was not always easy.
Sometimes difficulties arose through not being able to make the natives
understand, so that we could not always place the blame on them. When
grass was wanted for the thatching a contract was entered into with one
of the headmen to furnish one hundred bundles for five shillings
($1.20). The grass was brought until there was about half the specified
amount, then the pay was demanded. This was of course refused. The man
brought a little more and then he stoutly affirmed that he had fulfilled
his part of the contract. After considerable delay and, being harassed
by the headman, we finally paid him. After all, he may have been honest
in the affair and a mistake may have been made in the beginning; for the
word for _one hundred_ and that for _much_ were similar except in the
prefix. He may have understood that he was to bring much grass, and he
certainly did that.
Again, when the first hut was to be plastered, arrangements were made
with certain women to plaster it for a stated amount. They brought a
number of others along to help them plaster; and when pay day came, the
total amount of pay demanded was about double the original agreement.
There was such a noisy, unpleasant demonstration that day, that we
learned our lesson, and we were very careful so to arrange matters that
the difficulty would not occur again.
[Illustration: Matopo Mission--March, 1899.]
Our living at the time was of the simplest. Nearly all kinds of eatables
could be procured in Bulawayo; but they were very expensive, and there
was no way of bringing them out except by native carriers, or by
trusting to the friendly assistance of the white traders at Fort Usher.
Sometimes it fell to the Elder's lot to walk the thirty miles to
Bulawayo in order to purchase supplies. There was no need, however, for
us to do, like many a missionary in the wilds of Africa has done,
deprive ourselves of wheat bread and ordinary groceries. These we always
had, but we were more economical in their use than we would have been at
home. We had no milk, except tinned milk, no butter, and very little
meat, and no gun to procure game. But we had chicken and could
occasionally procure meat from the natives. Of course at first there
were no vegetables to be had, except such as we could at times procure
from the natives--corn, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, and peanuts, but these
were scarce.
Elder Engle, alive to the value of the soil and the need of wholesome
food, at once secured fruit trees and set them out, including a number
of orange trees. He also bought a small plow and with the two donkeys
broke land and planted vegetables. One native, who continually stood by
us during those early days, was Mapipa, our nearest neighbor. He was a
powerfully-built Matabele and reminded one of the giant of Gath; for he
had six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. He had been
quite active in the Rebellion and was wounded in one of the battles. He
could always be depended upon in work, and Brother Engle greatly
appreciated his assistance.
Perhaps some one who reads these lines may wonder whether building,
farming, and such manual labor is missionary work. Did not the Great
Missionary, according to all accounts--I say it in all reverence--take
an apprenticeship in the carpenter's shop where He "increased in wisdom
and stature and in favor with God and man"? Did not the Apostle Paul,
undoubtedly the greatest of His followers, unite tent-making with his
missionary work? Should then we, such feeble imitations, belittle manual
labor, even though it falls to our lot as missionaries? Any one going to
the mission field should not, if he is to be successful, decide in his
own mind that he is going to do certain things, he should be willing to
do whatever the Lord gives him to do, of spiritual, intellectual, or
physical labors.
There are so many sides to missionary work, and who can tell which will
result in the greatest good? To preach Christ and lift Him up that
others may see and accept Him is undoubtedly the central thought of the
Great Commission. The ways of exalting Him, however, are so many and so
various. Christ must be lived among the people before He can in truth be
preached to them. The heathen of Africa cannot read the Bible, but they
can and do continually read the lives of those sent among them. If these
do not correspond to the Word read and preached among them, they are
keen to discern and judge accordingly. If the Christ-life is lived
before their eyes, day by day, many will eventually yield their hearts
to Him, even though, they may for a time resist.
CHAPTER SIX
Educational and Evangelistic Work
The natives were eager to see inside the new huts. When they had an
opportunity to look at the whitewashed walls and the homemade furniture,
they stood spellbound, and the first word that broke from their lips was
"_Muehle_" (pretty).
They had another and more personal interest in seeing the huts
completed. They had been told that, as soon as the goods were moved out
of the tent, school would be opened. Both large and small were
exceedingly eager to learn, or at least they thought so. They had never
seen books, and writing was like magic to them. To put down some
characters on paper and from those to spell out their names when they
next visited the mission was little less than witchcraft. Both old and
young like to be known. They are pleased if their missionary pronounces
their name and seems to know them when they come a second time.
School opened October 11. The first boy to come bright and early was
Matshuba, together with two of Mapita's girls. This little boy, then
about thirteen years old, had been a very interested spectator of all
that occurred from the time the mission opened. Day after day he would
be on hand, and his bright eyes and active mind took knowledge of
everything that was said or done. His father, Mpisa, then dead, had
been one of the most trusted witch doctors of the King, and had been
held in great respect by all of the natives in that part of the country.
This boy was very eager for school, and the first morning he and
Mapita's girls begged us to allow only the Matabele to attend school,
and not the Amahole, or subject races. This furnished an excellent
opportunity of teaching them that God is no Respecter of persons.
The first morning of school twelve bright-looking boys and girls entered
the tent and sat down on the floor, curious to know what school was
like. It was a momentous time. It was the beginning of a work the result
of which human eye could not foresee. How the teacher, who had often
stood before a far larger and more inspiring-looking school in a
civilized land, trembled as she stood there before those twelve little
savages in the heart of Africa! She knew that those bright eyes were
reading her thoughts, and realized that she came so far short of the
"measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ." The special burden
of the prayer that morning was that, as these dear souls learned to read
the Word, the Light might enter their hearts and they yield themselves
to God.
The second day eight more were enrolled, and the third day fourteen, and
by the end of the month there were forty in all. Sister Heise and I were
kept busy during school hours as the pupils were taught to sew as well
as to read and write. Cleanliness is a rare virtue with them, so they
were told to wash before coming to school. As new ones entered the
school the admonition was repeated, with the statement that we wash
every morning. Mapita's little daughter, Sibongamanzi, with shining
black face, which showed that she had been heeding the command, looked
up brightly and said, "Yes, but you are white and we are black." She
evidently had thought that, if she washed every morning, she too would
become white, but she had concluded it to be a hopeless task. Mr.
Anderson said that some of their children thought that if they ate the
food of white people, they too would become white.
This, our first schoolroom, was very primitive. It consisted of a tent
16 x 16 feet. In front there was a box which served as a teachers' desk
and as a receptacle for slates, pencils, paper, books, and sewing. Other
boxes served for teachers' chairs. There were two easels made of poles;
one supported the blackboard and the other the charts. The blackboard
consisted of a few small boards nailed together and painted black, and
the charts were of cardboard, 18 x 24 inches in size. There were ten of
them printed on both sides with syllables, and Tebele words and
sentences. These had been printed by homemade stencils and pen, and had
occupied our leisure time while we were hut-building. The floor of the
tent was covered with straw, and the pupils sat on this without seats or
desks. They knew nothing of the comforts of the schoolroom in civilized
lands and thought they were well supplied.
Since we had no primer at the time, the Gospel of St. John was given to
them as a textbook when they had finished the charts. To enable them to
read and understand the Word of God was the aim of the school work and
the Bible the Textbook throughout. After they had learned to write the
letters of the alphabet, their copy usually was a verse from the
Scriptures. They were also taught to memorize certain portions in
connection with the daily worship, and hymn singing.
The pupils compare very favorably with white children in their ability
to learn, but few of them come regularly to school. To most of them
school is just a side issue, some place to go when there is nothing else
to be done. Some have an idea that they can learn to read in about a
month, and when they find that it requires months of weary, patient
effort at meaningless characters, they give up in despair. Others are
ridiculed by the older people for throwing away their time at such
useless work; "There is no money, no beer, no food in it and they are
dunces to go."
Again, some are grown, and being past the age when mental effort is
easy, they soon become discouraged. One big fellow stumbled along until
he had mastered the chart after a fashion. Then, to his delight, he was
given the Gospel of St. John to read. Day after day he struggled along
over the, to him, meaningless syllables and words. Still he persevered
until it gradually dawned upon him that the printed page meant
something. He looked up one day with a most delighted expression on his
face and exclaimed, "This book is talking to me!"
The native cannot be said to be very persevering, owing to the fact that
all his life, in his untaught state, he goes on the principle that the
world owes him a living. His needs are few and often they are supplied
by nature. When he comes up against a difficult problem of any sort,
his usual answer is, "It will not consent." For this reason arithmetic
is always difficult for him and his progress in it is very slow. One day
I was endeavoring to show a girl how to make the letter _b_. After a
vain effort to make it properly, she exclaimed, "My pencil will not
consent to slide that way."
The sewing hour probably was the most interesting time to all. They
expected to receive the garments after they had finished sewing them and
had worked for the cloth with which they were made. The dearest wish of
their hearts was to have a garment to put on. And that is not strange,
for in the cool morning air they come shivering, and at noon the hot sun
burns their bodies. We might have made the garments and donated them;
but that would not teach them to work and would have done them more harm
than good. A native always appreciates most that upon which he has
bestowed labor or money; so both boys and girls learned to sew. It was
rather amusing to see them, in the absence of other garments to which
they might pin their sewing, place it between their toes. It was also
interesting to watch the different expressions when at last the garments
were finished and they could clothe themselves.
Matshuba put on his suit; then, folding his hands, said in a quiet and
contented manner, "Now I am not cold any more." Amuzeze, when he had
finished his garments, put them on, and taking a good look at himself
stepped off as proudly as if he owned a large estate. Sibongamanzi kept
her dress for Sunday. At home she would carefully fold it, and putting
it in an earthen jar cover it up for safe keeping.
In the meantime services on Sunday had not been neglected. At the
opening of the work none of the missionaries could speak the language,
but they could read it after a fashion. So, from the very first Sunday
after the work opened, endeavors were made to instill into the minds of
the natives that one day out of seven was a day of rest and worship. To
them all days were alike--workdays, rest days, or carousal days, as they
chose to spend them. Sad to say that even the few that went to work for
the white man saw little or no difference between the days of the week.
It falls to the lot of the missionary to teach the significance of the
fourth commandment as well as the rest of the decalogue. On Sunday the
people were invited to assemble under the shade of a friendly tree, and
a portion of the Scriptures was read to them and hymns sung. They are
great lovers of music, so that in itself was an attraction. The first
congregation was very small. Sometimes there would be only Mapita and
his family, five or six in number. As the nature of the meetings began
to dawn on the native mind, others would assemble with us, but in the
first few months, or until the opening of school in October, not more
than twenty-five congregated at one time.
Acquiring the language is always a tedious, though important, part of
foreign missionary work. The missionary sees the natives about him, day
by day, and longs to tell them something of Jesus and His love, but is
unable to do so, especially if he be a pioneer in the work and without
an interpreter as we were. We had been endeavoring to study the
language from the Zulu books on hand, but on coming face to face with
the natives it was discovered that the set phrases we had acquired
seemed as unintelligible to them as their words were to us. There were
several reasons for this. One was that we had not learned the proper
pronunciation and accent, and another was that their dialect differed
somewhat from the Zulu, which we had been endeavoring to learn. Another,
and far weightier reason, and one which, to our sorrow, we did not
discover until some time afterwards, was that some natives did not speak
the correct language to us. Those who had been accustomed to speaking to
the Europeans had invented a jargon of their own, which they seemed to
think especially adapted to the mental capacity of white people. This
medium of communication is known as "kitchen Kafir."
It consists of a small vocabulary, chiefly of Zulu words, simplified and
divested of all inflections--and grammar, it might be said. This
dialect, which is especially distasteful to linguists, is invariably
used by many natives in addressing white people for the first time. It
is the common language of the kitchen and the shops, between master or
mistress and their native servants. It has also of later years spread
much among the natives themselves where various tribes meet and
converse. Its use has become so general over South Africa, and even in
parts of South Central Africa, that it has, not inaptly, been termed the
"Esperanto of South Africa." Undoubtedly it lacks much of the elegance
of the real Esperanto, but is in daily use by more people. Not only is
"kitchen Kafir" spoken between whites and blacks and between blacks
themselves, but sometimes, when a common language fails, something akin
to this is used between even the white people.
Not so many of the natives in the hills had come into contact with
Europeans before our coming among them, yet there was sufficient
"kitchen Kafir" among them to confuse the newcomers and make it
necessary in after years to unlearn many of the things they first
acquired.
Learning the language is trying, especially without a teacher, and many
blunders and misunderstands occur; but it is not the least useful of
missionary experiences. People on first coming into contact with raw
heathendom are seldom capable of doing much preaching to them in such a
manner that the native can understand and appreciate.
While one is learning the language, he is also learning to know the
native himself, his surroundings, and modes of thought. By the time one
is able to converse with the native, he also knows better what to say to
him. One thing, however, it is always safe to do from the time the
missionary enters the field of labor; he may always read the Word, if he
has it in the language. The unadorned Word is always safe and suits all
conditions of men.
Gradually we learned to speak the language, sentence by sentence. How
our hearts burned within us those days to be able to tell the story of
Christ and His love! Usually the dull, darkened look on the faces of the
few present would cause the speaker to feel that he had not been
understood, or that there had been no answering response. Then
occasionally a dusky face would light up, as if a ray of light had
penetrated a darkened corner, and the speaker would be encouraged to
renewed efforts to make the subject plain. Thus, Sunday after Sunday,
the effort would be renewed.
It was not only on that day, however, that some of the older ones heard
the Word read and an attempt at explanation given. Morning and evening
worship was held in the native language, and often a larger number, in
those early days, gathered about us on workdays than on Sunday. The door
was always open and everyone was invited to enter at time of prayer.
After school opened, and it became better known which day was Sunday,
and that the services were held in the tent, the attendance gradually
increased.
Our feelings, as written at the time, were somewhat as follows:
We realize more fully every day that much wisdom and grace is
needed in dealing with this people. If we did not have such
confidence in our Great Leader, we might at times be discouraged,
for the enemy of souls is strong here in Africa and human nature is
alike the world over. When the truth is driven home to their
hearts, they are quite ready to excuse themselves. Thus we find it
necessary to get down lower and lower at the feet of Jesus and let
Him fill us continually with all the fulness of His love and
Spirit, that there may be no lack in us.
In his own eyes the pagan African is always a good, innocent sort of
person. He has done no wrong, has committed no sin, hence has no need of
forgiveness. One of the first requisites seems to be instilling into his
mind a knowledge of God and His attributes. This must be "precept upon
precept," "line upon line," "here a little and there a little." Time
after time this thought of God must be reiterated until it is burned
into the consciousness of the hearers. We are told of one missionary
who, for the first two years, took as his text, Sabbath after Sabbath,
"God is." And it would seem to be a wise course to pursue. The
conception of a Supreme Being Who is holy, omnipotent, omniscient, and
omnipresent, and cannot look upon sin with any degree of allowance, to
Whom all must render an account, needs to be indelibly impressed on the
native mind. Until they realize that "all have sinned and come short of
the glory of God," it seems useless to preach Christ as a Savior to
them.
Missionaries soon realize that they cannot sit down and wait for the
people to come to them. They must go out into the streets and lanes of
their villages and "into the highways and hedges and compel them to come
in." Kraal-visiting forms a very important part of the Gospel work.
Sister Heise and myself went among them as much as possible. We went
chiefly on foot, and many miles were traveled in all kinds of weather,
so that the people might be instructed in the things of God. At first
these visits could be little more than a friendly call and the speaking
of a few broken sentences. These wild children of nature were quick to
respond to the interest that prompted the visits, and would always
welcome the visitors. As soon as we were within sight the children would
come to meet us and pilot us to their parents. When we left they would
again accompany us a little distance, perhaps to the next kraal. Who
shall say but that these early journeys, in which little of the Gospel
was given, was not as fruitful of results for God as later ones? Back of
those black exteriors are human hearts waiting to be touched by the
finger of love and human sympathy, ready to imbibe the milk of human
kindness. They know something of the natural love of parent to child,
and _vice versa_; but they need to realize that there is such a thing as
disinterested love in their welfare, and by this means be led to realize
in some little measure the _wonderful love of God_. In this, thank God,
we had no need to simulate love. A spark of the Divine love for them had
entered our hearts before we even set foot on Africa's shores.
It is difficult to understand the expression of a missionary who visited
Matopo some time after the work was started, and who in his own field of
labor seemed to have been used of the Lord. He said one day: "I cannot
say that I love these people. I do not love that child," pointing to a
little girl at some distance in front of him, "but I realize that Christ
loves them and desires them to be saved, hence my work among them." This
seemingly cold sense of duty may answer. If, however, the pagan African
once realizes that disinterested love prompts our treatment of him, he
is generally most pliable and teachable. Without something of the Divine
love work among them must be hard indeed, for there are so many trying
things to be met with day by day.
After a time it was discovered that the donkeys might be made use of in
kraal visiting. I well remember our first experience at this mode of
travel. We had no saddles, so we placed blankets on the backs of the
donkeys and fastened them with surcingles of our own manufacture. Sister
Heise was an expert rider, while I was quite the reverse. Our first trip
was to a kraal about five miles distant, the home of the chief,
Hluganisa. Two boys, Matshuba and Sihlaba, accompanied us as guides. All
went well on the trip over. We were very kindly received by the people
and afforded an opportunity to give them the Gospel. The village was up
among the rocks, and as donkeys are expert climbers they had no
difficulty in making the ascent, or descent, either, but on the return
journey I could not keep my place, and was sent over the donkey's head
on to the ground. My companion, when she saw that no harm was done,
rather considered the accident as a good joke, and I joined in the laugh
at my own expense. The boys failed to see any fun in it, and seemed
greatly to resent the laughter.
Some time after this we made another journey of about the same distance
in the opposite direction. The reason for this second visit was as
follows: Among our pupils was a nice, modest-looking girl about twelve
years of age. She belonged to Mapita's family, and seemed to be an
affectionate and well-behaved child. She was absent from school for a
few days, and on inquiring we learned that she had gone to the home of
her intended husband. Greatly shocked, we made further inquiry, and were
told that Mapita had sold her to a man who had already one wife, and
that he lived about five miles away. It was our first experience with
heathen marriage, and we determined to hunt her up and if possible
release her. We looked upon this child as a slave or prisoner.
Taking the donkeys and our two boys, we again started out one morning.
The path was not familiar, even to our guides. It wound around among the
rocks and we were in great danger of being lost. Immense boulders were
piled up in all sorts of fantastic shapes, and a white person could
easily be lost among the hills and perhaps never find his way out, but
the native will always find his way. Once we found ourselves on the top
of a nearly perpendicular rock, and dismounting reached the bottom only
with great difficulty. The boys inquired the way of a native in his
garden, but he regarded us with suspicion and remained silent. Since the
close of the rebellion, when the natives hid themselves among these
rocks, they have been very suspicious of white people, for fear some one
may desire to capture them. It was only after repeated assurances by the
boys that we were missionaries, and their friends, that he consented to
direct us.