Finally we reached the home of Buka, the man who had taken little

Lomanzwana. His kraal was situated up among the rocks in one of nature's

fortresses. Here, in this desolate place, in the midst of densest

heathendom, was the girl. Her husband was a cripple and very pagan

looking. But what could we do amid such rock-bound customs as held these

people? Nothing. With hearts lifted to the Lord in prayer we tried to

point them to the Lamb of God. The man regarded us with wild-looking

eyes, and listened with seemingly dull, uncomprehending ears to our

stammering tongues. When he was asked a question, he looked at those

about him and wanted to know what sort of an answer the missionary

desired; then he would answer accordingly. In another hut was a very old

woman, the mother of Buka, who was an imbecile and was fed like an

animal. We retraced our steps with heavy hearts, but for many a day the

memory of that visit haunted us.

As for the girl, the man did not pay sufficiently promptly to satisfy

Mapita, so he finally took her home. Later she was sold to a man who

paid a large sum. Here they quarreled and the girl returned home, and

the pay had to be given back. It is needless to say that the girl was

thoroughly demoralized by this time. She was finally disposed of to

another man.

In February, 1899, Matshuba came to stay at the mission and attend

school. Ever since the mission had opened he had been a great help to us

in acquiring the language, and as he could understand us more readily,

he often explained our meaning to others. He knew too just how many Zulu

words were in our vocabulary, and in speaking to us he adapted himself

to our limited understanding. He also gradually acquired the English. He

made rapid progress in school; and as the Light came to him he accepted

it. He did not do this all at one bound, but, as it were, according to

his capacity to understand the meaning of the Atonement and kindred

themes. The day came when he saw himself a great sinner, and he repented

in truth. He was the only boy staying at the mission for a time, so that

many and various duties fell to his lot. These he performed faithfully,

except that he was somewhat careless in herding the donkeys, and lost

them.

One evening he came to the door of our hut in great perplexity and said

that he would like to have a talk. He came and sat down on the

hearthstone, then said, "I prayed this morning, but the donkeys were

lost at any rate." By his language he evidently thought that if he

prayed the Lord would do the watching. This gave us an opportunity of

telling of David, the faithful shepherd boy, and of the "Great

Shepherd," who told us to both "watch and pray." The boy then told

something of his early life. Among other things he said:

"Father used to tell me to go and watch the gardens so that the animals

would not come and take our food. I did not watch well and the animals

destroyed the crops and father was grieved."

"Are you sorry now that you did not obey?"

"Oh! yes, indeed," was the reply. "If I might live that time over again,

I would be a better boy."

He continued, "When father was sick they said he was bewitched. So they

tried to find out who had bewitched him. Once, before he died, he said

that he would like to see a missionary. _Umfundisi_ [Missionary] Engle

should have come sooner, before father died."

"Matshuba, did you ever hear of Jesus before we came?"

"Yes, Missus," he replied, "I heard His Name once, and I wanted my

mother to go where there was a missionary; then the Lord sent you."

Here was this dear soul, groping in the night and reaching out for

something better than he had known, he knew not what. When the Light

comes to him he is ready to accept it. There are many other such boys,

and girls too, all over Africa, who are waiting for some one to bring

them the Light. Is it you? There are many other old men to whom the

message will come too late unless some one makes haste and brings it.

Matshuba had many hard battles to fight, and often have we heard him out

among the rocks praying for help and victory. I well remember the first

day on which he prayed openly before the school. Almost the hush of

death fell upon all, for it was a new era to them. One of their number

had learned to pray like the missionaries. There was no hut at first for

him to sleep in, so he lay in the tent. One morning he came out, his

face all aglow. He said, "I saw Jesus last night. He came and stood

before me. He was tall and bright looking."

Some months after he came, another boy, Tebengo, came to stay at the

mission. He, too, had been attending school and desired to be a

Christian. Bright, impulsive, but easily misled, in his instability he

was just the opposite of the more steadfast Matshuba. There were also

others of the schoolboys who were stepping out into the light, and among

these were Kelenki and Siyaya, who were Mashona people. Their home

seemed more heathenish than some of the others, but these boys, with

others from their kraal, appeared earnest in the service of the Master.

A Sunday-school was also opened this first year and proved quite

interesting to the younger ones. On the first Christmas Day the natives

were invited for services and about ninety came--the largest number up

to that time. After the services they were invited to a large,

unfinished hut, and all were treated to bread and tea and some salt.

Father and Mother Engle sat down among them and partook of bread and tea

with them. This greatly delighted all, and it was just as much of a

pleasure to our elder and wife, who always enjoyed mingling with the

people. The rest of us saw that all were served. The people were very

thankful for the treat, and all expressed their gratitude in a forcible

manner.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Reinforcements, and Progress of the Work

The various departments of the mission were gradually enlarging, and as

the work increased the burden fell more and more heavily upon Elder

Engle. It will be remembered that efforts were made to secure an

assistant for him before we left America, but without success. In April,

1899, however, we gladly welcomed into our midst three new missionaries

from America. These were Mr. and Mrs. Clifford Cress and Mr. Isaac

Lehman. They were able and consecrated messengers, and a valuable

addition to the work. With them came also several large boxes of

clothing, cloth for the sewing school, and other goods which had been

donated for the mission. About this time also the Board sent out some

farm implements, a large Studebaker wagon, a two-seated spring wagon,

and a bell for calling the people to services. More donkeys had already

been purchased by Elder Engle, so that the question of traveling, and of

bringing out supplies from Bulawayo, was most satisfactorily settled.

Shortly after this we also had the pleasure of welcoming Mr. and Mrs.

Van Blunk, of the Christian Holiness Association. These had come to make

their headquarters near us and engage in evangelistic work. We had now

quite a little company of Christian workers--nine in number--and had

very inspiring and encouraging English services, as well as those in the

native tongue. Although Brother Van Blunks were under a different Board

and their work was in a measure separate from the rest, yet they were

spiritual and consecrated missionaries and of great assistance in

exalting Christ among the people.

On account of the large increase in the number of workers, it was

necessary also to enlarge our dwelling place. During this season five

new huts were erected, including those for the natives, making the

mission premises look like a little village. A building for church

services and school was also greatly needed. During the entire rainy

season these had been held in the tent, which was proving inadequate for

the growing congregation. So Brethren Engle and Lehman, with the

assistance of the natives, erected a very respectable looking church

building of poles and mud, 16 x 30 feet. It was furnished with plank

seats and good tables, and Brother Van Blunk donated glass for windows.

Long poles of native timber were then secured and a framework was made

for the bell. This being hoisted and fastened in place could be heard at

many of the kraals. It also assisted in informing the people of the

Sabbath.

At sunset on Saturday evening it was rung a long time to inform the

people that the morrow was the Sabbath, and that they should lay aside

their work and prepare for rest and service. Later in the work some of

us agreed to take that time for secret prayer in behalf of the people,

that the Lord might incline their hearts to come to the house of the

Lord. After there were a number of native Christians, they too joined us

in prayer, each going to his private place. One evening we were greatly

impressed to see Mazwi, the boy who was ringing slowly, down on his

knees, as if, while he was calling the people to prepare for worship on

the morrow, he was also calling upon God to persuade them to come. We

were often made to feel too that the Lord especially honored some of

those prayers.

The sight of so many people about us being destitute of clothing had

greatly touched Brother Engle's heart, and he had written to America

about it. The result was a large box of clothing generously donated. He

gave each of the headmen and the chief a shirt and a pair of trousers,

and told them to come to services. They seemed to be, and no doubt were,

very grateful for the favor bestowed, and a very few made good use of

the garments. Others came once or twice clothed, and then nothing more

was seen of them or their clothing. In less than a year these latter

ones came again and asked for clothes, stating that they had nothing to

wear to church. It is needless to say that by this time the missionaries

had learned their lesson, and those desiring to be clothed had to work

for it. A number did come and work for clothing and were well paid, but

what they did with the clothing was often a mystery. Shirts they

generally liked and appreciated, and sometimes the other garments would

be sewed up in a wonderful manner and do duty for a shirt or coat, or

they would answer for a grain bag.

Day by day we were learning the nature of the people about us, and were

obliged to adjust ourselves to our changed understanding. They are all

children and must be dealt with accordingly. The missionary soon finds

that he not only needs much of the love that "never faileth," but also a

large supply of patience continually in his work. He must also be firm

in his dealings with the natives and make them know their place. They

will respect him all the more if he does this in the proper spirit. Old

children are more difficult to handle than young ones, as they are more

unreasonable and more set in their ways. They generally do not feel

under any obligations to keep their promises to you, but they fully

expect you to keep yours to them, otherwise they will lose confidence in

you.

When one first goes to the heathen and sees them in their ignorance and

superstition, seemingly lacking everything to make them comfortable, he

is led to speak much of Christ and His love, thus seeking to win them.

They begin to say within themselves, "Well, if He loves us, He will do

us no harm, so we need not trouble ourselves about Him," and they

continue, as vigorously as ever, to seek to appease the malevolent

spirits, who they think are seeking to harm them. Then the missionary

thinks he should pursue another course. He soon becomes somewhat

discouraged and disgusted with their indifference and hypocrisy, and is

often led to the opposite extreme, and dwells much on hell and

condemnation, which tends to harden his hearers. Finally he reaches a

golden mean. He realizes that these poor souls about him have had no

opportunity of rising above their degrading surroundings, and he must

take them as they are, and seek by the ability which God giveth to live

the Christ life among them and lift them to a higher plane of living.

[Illustration: Matopo Mission Church in 1899. Built by Elder Jesse

Engle.]

The Sunday-school had been chiefly for the younger ones, but we

concluded to add a class for the older people. This was greatly

appreciated by some of them, especially Mapita. It began with few in

number; but as time passed it gradually increased in attendance and

interest. Mapita seemed so eager to learn in those days, and would often

look with longing eyes into the Kingdom, and the very joy of the Lord

would seem to be reflected in his face, but he was afraid to step over.

He gained a great deal of knowledge of the Scriptures too, and he was

not slow to tell other people.

All the services were more or less informal, and any one was free to ask

questions; yet in the Sabbath-school class many felt more at home and

often expressed themselves freely in regard to the difficulties in the

way of their becoming Christians. One day, after we had explained the

lesson, Nyuka, a witch doctor, said:

"I believe all you say, and that Christ is able to save us, but what can

I do? My hands are tied. I have five wives."

Nothing had been said about a plurality of wives, but intuitively he

realized that it was a formidable obstacle in his way. We could only

tell him that if he really reached the place where he desired to be

saved, the Lord would open the way for him.

As question after question arose in the class, the answer often given

would be to open the Bible and read a portion suitable for the question.

One day, after this had been done several times, one of the men

exclaimed, "It is no use to argue any more; that Book knows everything."

The difficulty generally was that, although they believed the Word, they

were not willing to take the Way. The darkness seemed too dense, the

effort required was too great, the transformation was too absolute for

these old people, rocked in the cradle of paganism for generations. It

is the younger generation that are chiefly benefited by the mission

work. Sometimes some of the others, seeing this, will say, "I am too

old; you should have come sooner."

Then again the missionary sometimes meets with a Caleb or a Joshua. He

receives some encouragement, from even the old. Allow me to give an

account of a visit made at this time:

We are going to visit an old queen. It is not our first visit to her,

but we are informed that she is ill at present and her friends are

fearful that she might die, as she is very, very old. Sisters Heise,

Cress, and myself are going. We carry a little bread, cocoa, and a New

Testament. She is living at the kraal of Mapita, our faithful helper. He

also has been sick with fever, but he is somewhat better today, and is

sitting out of doors by the fire, where his wife and children are

preparing their evening meal. This consists of peanut gravy, kafir-corn

porridge, and pumpkin. After greeting these, we pass on to the hut where

the queen lies. We sit down on the ground, so that we may look into the

little opening which serves as doorway. The woman in charge invites us

to enter, and we crawl into the hut. In the center of the hut is a fire

with four large stones around it; the smoke finding its way into our

eyes or out through the straw roof, for there is no chimney and no

window. Near this fireplace lies the poor old queen. Her bed consists of

a large hide spread on the hard, polished earthen floor, and a block of

wood serves for a pillow. A blanket is thrown over her body. We offer

the cocoa, which the sick one gratefully accepts, but the bread is

refused. We then go to her side and try to point her to the Lamb of God,

which taketh away the sin of the world, and tell her of the home

prepared for all those who love God. She tries to listen, and sometimes

responds to the question asked. Of course our knowledge of the language

is still imperfect, and it is more difficult for the old to understand

than for the young. When the sick one does not fully comprehend, the

nurse, who is Matshuba's mother, explains. Sitting here by this old

woman, and seeing her stretch out her thin hands to the warm stones at

the fire, we forget that vermin surrounds us or that our clothes might

become soiled; our hearts only overflow with a desire to let a flood of

light into the soul of the poor one before us. As the talk continues she

does seem to grasp some of the spiritual truths, and she gives a more

ready assent to the questions asked:

"Do you desire us to pray for you?"

"Oh! yes," she exclaimed with feeling. "I always love to have you pray

to Jesus for me."

Kneeling there we offer prayers that the Lord would speak to this dear

soul and prepare her to meet Him. Her farewell word and clinging clasp

of the hand on our departure cause us to feel that light is breaking,

and that she, in her feeble way, is, by faith, taking hold of Christ.

Once before, when we visited her, she too offered up her feeble

petition.

We emerge from the hut and stop a few minutes to speak with Mapita and

his family, and offer up a word of prayer. The sun has already set, so

we hastily bid them adieu and start for home, but not before they have

sent their respects to Father and Mother Engle.

Thus ends one of the many visits we are called upon to make. But who is

this old queen, amid such unqueenly surroundings? She was one of the

numerous wives of Mzilikazi, the founder and first king of the Matabele

tribe. He had a large number of wives, not fewer than forty or fifty,

and this was one of them. The natives here claim that she was his chief

wife and the mother of Lobengula, the king. We think that, however, is

very doubtful, although the husband of the woman where she stays was one

of Lobengula's most trusted men.

[Illustration: Mrs. Cress Giving a Lesson in Cleanliness.]

This poor queen in her younger days had no doubt plenty, with slaves to

wait upon her and do her bidding. Now, in her old age, she tries to work

for a living by cultivating the soil, and growing her own food. If her

change of fortune is instrumental in leading her to Christ, she is

richer than she knows. She will not have all her good things in life. We

have been trying to help her also in temporal affairs.

She arose from this sick bed and afterwards visited us. One day, when we

were again speaking of Christ, her face lighted up and she exclaimed, "I

am happy because Jesus lives in here," putting her hand on her breast.

We feel, as Sister Heise expressed it, "One would look upon her as one

of the first fruits of our mission work in Africa."

Although the work among most of the older people thus far appeared to

make little progress, if we may judge by their lives, yet a number of

the pupils were steadfast. As far as could be ascertained they had

accepted Christ as their Savior and were walking out in all the light

they had. Since they were eager to follow the Lord in all things it was

considered advisable to baptize some. Accordingly, after the little

church was completed, they were examined as to their faith. In August,

1899, nine boys and one girl were by Elder Engle led into one of those

sparkling streams and dipped three times into the name of the Trinity,

and thus put on the Lord by baptism. It was a time of great rejoicing

and encouragement to the missionaries when this was done, and they could

gather around the table of the Lord, with some dark-skinned brethren,

who had so lately come out of pagan darkness. Although these were but

babes, yet the missionaries felt that the Lord had set His seal upon the

work.

It might seem that we were somewhat hasty in thus so soon receiving into

church fellowship. The mission had been opened only a little over a

year, and our imperfect knowledge of the language, as well as of the

native character, made it scarcely possible for them to be well

instructed in the things of the Lord. There was no cause to think,

however, that they were not honest and sincere so far as they knew.

There was a radical change in their lives, and some were steadfast, but

others had not fully counted the cost and soon fell back, if indeed they

were really saved. One of the oldest, who was over twenty years of age,

stood well until he went to work for a European, who made sport of him,

and the boy gradually fell back into his former habits. Great pains were

taken to lead them on to know the Lord.

During this year the war known as the Boer War began in South Africa. It

was a conflict which seemed inevitable between the wealthy English mine

owners and their Dutch rulers. We are perhaps safe in saying that heavy

taxation without sufficient representation was the chief cause of the

war. The first event of importance in connection with it was the siege

of Kimberley, the great diamond field, and the headquarters of Mr.

Rhodes at the time. This occurred October 14. The war then spread

through other parts of South Africa and to the border of Rhodesia, but

did not extend into it. English troops were, however, stationed there to

repel an invasion should one be attempted.

The war did not directly affect us, but indirectly it did. By the siege

of Kimberley, and later that of Mafeking, and the destruction of the

railroad our line of supplies from Cape Town was cut off, consequently

prices in Rhodesia rose very rapidly. Sugar was soon two shillings (48c)

per pound, flour about three guineas ($15) per one hundred pounds, and

other groceries in proportion. With little money on hand, and the

prospects of receiving more under such conditions uncertain, famine

might have stared us in the face. There was no need to be uneasy,

however; the Lord and the forethought of Father and Mother Engle

prepared us for such an emergency. Shortly before this the Charter

Company had placed some cattle on the mission farm, and we had the use

of milk. Butter, eggs, and vegetables for a time brought a very high

price in Bulawayo market, and with all these the mission was supplied.

The little spring wagon, drawn by four donkeys, went to Bulawayo nearly

every week for a time, taking in produce which brought a high price, and

we were in turn able to pay a high price for groceries and food for the

table; so that, during the darkest days of the war, all our needs were

supplied.

Occasionally disquieting rumors would reach us that the Boers were about

to force their way through and come into Rhodesia. The natives

themselves were not a little interested in the outcome of the war. They

had no newspapers or system of telegraphy like the white people, but

they had a means of gaining news which to them was much more effective.

This was by means of communication among themselves. How they so quickly

secured news of the various engagements in the south and the result of

each engagement was a mystery. We on our part, situated among them as we

were, and conscious that there were many who were still seething under

British rule, could not avoid wondering what might be the outcome were

the British defeated. On the other hand, many of the natives seemed to

prefer British rule to that of the Dutch. They chose to remain as they

were rather than change masters.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Extension of the Work Followed by Dark Days

Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the

ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much

fruit.--St. John 12: 24.

Matopo Mission was only one little light in the surrounding darkness,

and it was hoped that other stations might be opened in time. So after

Brother and Sister Cress came, or as soon as they had some little

knowledge of the language and of the work, they desired to open another

station. After looking the country over, they felt led to a place up

among the hills near the kraal of Buka, of whom mention was made earlier

in these pages. There were a number of kraals in the immediate vicinity,

and the location seemed a good one, except that it was somewhat near

Matopo Mission. They decided to move out in November, and at that time

they, together with the tent and supplies, were taken to their new

station. Unfortunately a heavy rain came on while they were on the way

and the ground was thoroughly soaked before they had an opportunity to

pitch their tent. They concluded, however, to remain at their place and

build. It was named Entabeni Mission.

The building progressed satisfactorily, and they held services on each

Sunday for about two months or a little over. They felt encouraged in

their work and the natives interested. At the Christmas holidays they

came to spend the time with us, and we had a very enjoyable time with

the natives. The third week in January, 1900, a messenger arrived to

inform us that Sister Cress had been stricken with fever. A conveyance

was immediately sent to the place to bring her to Matopo Mission, and by

the time that reached their mission Brother Cress also was sick. Both

were brought to the mission and made as comfortable as possible. At

first no one considered their illness serious, for our party had thus

far been enjoying good health since the work opened. Other complications

set in in connection with Sister Cress' illness, and she gradually grew

worse. For twenty-four hours she lay unconscious and then rallied and

seemed quite bright. We were all present--Engles, Van Blunks, Sister

Heise, Brother Lehman, and myself--when she rallied. She requested that

prayer be offered for her recovery. This was done and we felt that she

would gain strength, but it was not to be. In half an hour that sweet

young life passed to be with God. This was February 8, 1900. All through

her sickness she felt perfectly resigned to the Lord's will, whether for

life or death.

We felt that we could not spare this saintly woman, so well fitted both

by nature and by grace to shine for God. She had laid her all upon the

altar for Africa, and often expressed herself that she wanted to spend

her life in behalf of this people. She had been in Africa only nine and

one-half months, yet she had entered heart and soul into the work of the

Lord, and was rapidly acquiring the language, so that she could

converse with the people. She had formed some of the women into a sewing

class, uniting this work with religious instructions, and endearing

herself to all with whom she came into contact. She loved the people and

was willing and ready to undertake any kind of work that came to her.

She was especially gifted in prayer, and it was always an inspiration to

the rest of us to listen to her heartfelt petition. Why the Lord thus

early in her missionary career took her to Himself, we know not; but

when the things of earth shall be revealed, when we shall know as we are

known, then all will be clear.

Brethren Engle and Lehman made a coffin; we covered it within with white

muslin and without with black cloth, and thus laid the body away. Mr.

Eyles, of Bulawayo, was interested in the mission and occasionally

visited us and spoke to the natives, since he had good command of the

Zulu language. On this occasion he consented to come out and preach the

funeral sermon. The chief men of the people carried her to her last

resting place beneath the Umkuni tree, and they mingled their tears with

ours. The occasion was made more sad by the fact that the husband was

still ill and unable to view the corpse or attend the funeral.

During the sickness of these two people we greatly appreciated the

presence and help of Brother and Sister Van Blunk, who still lived near

the mission. Both were very kind in assisting to care for the sick and

also in the last sad rites. Shortly afterwards they moved to Bulawayo

and made that the headquarters of their evangelistic work.

[Illustration: Elder Engle and Donkey Team at Matopo Mission.]

Brother Cress recovered from his illness, but concluded that it was best

for him to return to America, and wrote the Board accordingly. He felt

his loss keenly. The work in general resumed its normal condition until

the last week in March, when our bishop and overseer, Elder Engle,

became sick. He had been very busy with the work, and in his frequent

trips to Bulawayo, sometimes in the rain, he may have exposed himself.

His condition did not seem serious, and he was not obliged to keep his

bed continually. On April 2 he walked to a garden near by, and when he

returned he again lay down. He ate heartily of the dinner prepared for

him, after which his wife came to the dining-room and ate with us. At

the close of our 3 P. M. dinner she went to her room, but returned at

once and asked me to fill the hot water bottle and come over. I did so

and found Brother Engle having a heavy chill and speaking the Zulu

language rapidly, seemingly unconscious of our presence. We endeavored

in every way to help him, but soon found that he was rapidly becoming

paralyzed. Sister Heise and Brother Lehman were called and a

consultation held. It was decided to send a messenger to the fort, ten

miles away, and from there telephone to Bulawayo for a doctor. Brother

Cress had left that day to go as far as the fort on his way to Bulawayo,

and he was also to be informed.

All night we watched by the Elder's bedside, but there was nothing that

could be done. Brother Cress arrived near noon the next day, but the

doctor did not arrive in time. That was a dark time as he lay paralyzed

and unconscious in the little mud hut he called home, far from his

children, far from the comforts of civilization, with none of his family

or relatives, save his devoted wife, by his side. As it became evident

that the end was near, that heroic mother, who had been such a worthy

companion in all his labors, stooped over and imprinted on his face a

kiss for each of their seven sons in far-away America. At 5 P. M., April

3, he breathed his last. Thus, in less than two months from the date of

Sister Cress' death, Elder Engle also was called home. The loss of our

sister was great, but this seemed to be a still greater blow on the

mission.

He was so absorbed in the work, and no sacrifice was too great, no labor

too hard, for him to endure. Perhaps, if he had spared himself a little

more, he might have been able to continue longer in the work. Who knows?

The language was difficult for one at his age, yet he was making heroic

efforts to acquire it, and could make himself pretty well understood. We

have seen him, after reading the Word, stand before the people, with the

tears running down his face in his great love for them and in his desire

to help them to Christ. And the natives knew that he loved them and they

in turn loved him and greatly lamented his departure. The language of

many of them might be summed up in that of one woman. As she stood by

his coffin, weeping, she said:

"He was good to me. He gave me salt, he gave me calico. What shall we do

without him?"

It seemed that his life work was finished. He had had the desire of his

heart, in that he had been permitted to reach Africa and see a work

started in the wilds. He had been privileged to see something of the

travail of soul by beholding some step into the Kingdom. Now he had gone

to hear the welcome message, "Well done, good and faithful servant ...

enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

This time it was Brethren Cress and Lehman who made the coffin. There

was no lumber on hand, but they removed some from the hut doors for the

purpose. Again we covered it to contain the form of our elder. Mr. Eyles

could not meet with us at this time, and the Van Blunks were away; but

two of the officials from Fort Usher were present, and a number of

natives, not so many, however, as at the previous time. No doubt they

were becoming suspicious of this oft-repeated death. The white men

present, together with some of the natives, carried the body to its last

resting place beside Sister Cress. Brother Cress spoke in English to the

white people present, while the natives were addressed by the writer

from 2 Tim. 4: 7-8.

The devoted wife had been wonderfully sustained by a Higher Power

through all this sad scene. She had been called here, far from her home

and family, to lay away her husband, but she realized that she was not

alone. When, however, the funeral was over, the effects of the shock and

of the strain through which she had been passing were manifest. She too

took her bed with the dread African fever.

[Illustration: MATOPO CEMETERY. Elder Jesse Engle. Mrs. Cress. Mrs. E.

Doner. Elder Jacob Engle at his father's grave and Elder John Sheets.]

The Seventh Day Adventist missionaries, who had been so kind to us when

we first came to Bulawayo, sent letters of condolence as soon as they

heard of our bereavement, and offered the services of their physician,

should we need him. In this emergency we sent for him to come and see

Mother Engle. He rode the fifty miles on horseback to come to minister

to her and to give us instructions as to how to treat the disease. This

was something which we greatly needed and appreciated, and it has been

of great service to us in later years. He would accept no compensation

for his long and tiresome journey. Such are the big hearts one finds in

the interior of Africa. They are enlarged to take in more of the Spirit

of the Master. All was done that could possibly be done for Mother

Engle, so that she might gain her health sufficiently to return to

America with Brother Cress. She continued to have relapses of the fever

for three months, and it was not until July 19 that she was able to make

the journey.

Brother Cress' stay of sixteen months in Africa had brought great loss

to him, but the Lord had sustained him. We were sorry to lose him as

well as Mother Engle in the work. She never felt called of herself to go

as a missionary, but only to be with her husband. When he was led of the

Lord to go forth, she most cheerfully bade farewell to her family and

all that was dear to a mother's heart and went with her husband, neither

of them knowing whether they would be permitted to see their family

again. She was not merely a companion to him, but a most devoted

helpmate, not only in all that can possibly mean in civilized lands; but

larger still, in the heartaches, the weariness, the loneliness, and the

discouragements that come to a missionary. How often the names of their

loved ones would be spoken by these two! How they would linger over the

letters that came, and yet never a word of complaining or regret that

they had left all for this. When Elder Engle died we felt that we had

lost a father; so, when she left for America, we realized that the

mother and homemaker was gone.

Before their departure a most important event transpired. I refer to the

marriage, on May 1, of Mr. Isaac Lehman and Miss Alice Heise, by Rev.

Van Blunk. This was to have taken place earlier, but was delayed by the

sorrowful events through which we were passing. Even the day of the

wedding was saddened by a most serious relapse of Mother Engle, and we

felt quite anxious on her account. This was the first opportunity for

the natives to see something of a Christian wedding, and we believe they

were impressed with the difference between a Christian and a pagan

marriage. Brother Lehman was a consecrated young man and had from the

first taken hold of the work along all lines with zeal and readiness. He

had also made rapid strides in the language. Sister Heise, too, ever

since the opening of the mission, had been a most able and efficient

worker, so that both were well equipped to do effectual service for the

Master.

All of us accompanied Mother Engle and Brother Cress to Bulawayo, where

they rested for a day and then took the train for Cape Town, while we

returned to continue the work. For a time nine white workers had been at

Matopo Mission, and in less than six months the number had been reduced

to three. Those left, however, were not discouraged. May 23 of the same

year one of them wrote to the _Evangelical Visitor_:

"He that keepeth thee will not slumber." This is the Father's

promise to all His dear children, not only to you who are sheltered

in Christian homes, but also to us who are in the wilds of Africa.

We have just as much faith in the promise today as when to outward

appearances everything was more secure. Your hearts with ours have

no doubt been torn by the sad messages which have crossed the

waters during the few months just past, and some one may be even

tempted to doubt whether it was the Lord's will for us to come to

Africa. Beloved, does England doubt the outcome of the deadly

conflict raging in South Africa because she has already lost

thousands of men? Is her courage failing? No; far from it. Money

and men are continually pouring into the country and soon the

independence of two states will be a thing of the past. Shall we as

Christian soldiers have less faith in the King of kings? Shall we

give up the conflict because two have fallen by our side? No; not

if all men forsake us, for with God we still have a majority. While

our hearts feel bereft by the departure of our beloved colaborers,

we still have confidence in our Great Captain, and we know that He

never lost a battle.

CHAPTER NINE

The Battle Is not Yours, but God's

Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to

withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.--Eph. 6: 13.

The missionary going among the heathen must realize that he is about to

engage in a warfare, and that the conflict will be fierce and long. He

is assailing the great enemy of souls in his stronghold. The fight is on

continually and one must keep armed for battle. More important yet than

this the missionary should remember that he is under orders and that the

work is not his but the Lord's.

The loss of our fellow-soldiers was most keenly felt, and there were

some severe tests to face. The work had become disorganized by the

continued illness and the deaths, when all our energies had been needed

in caring for those about us. Encouraging letters, however, came from

the homeland and the Mission Board, so that we realized that prayers

were being offered in our behalf and in behalf of the work. We also

expected that reinforcements would be forthcoming in the Lord's own

time. So, under the leadership of our Great Captain, the army was again

set in array and the conflict continued.

We were pleased to note that the people stood by us nobly in this

extremity, even though Satan had put forth every effort to defeat the

work. Some who had started to follow the Lord saw that they had become

indifferent and renewed their covenant. There were four boys who were

staying at the mission at this time, and they came one evening and said

they would like to have a talk. This was not so strange, as we often had

little confidential chats with them. On this particular evening they

came in and sat down. Then, without any preliminary remarks, Matshuba

arose and made a complete confession of his past life. He then sat down

and Kelenki arose and began to do the same. I said,

"Boys, if you desire we will call Brother and Sister Lehman, that they

may hear likewise."

They replied, "Yes, Miss, do so, for we desire to confess everything and

have all wiped away, and we do not want to repeat our wrongdoings, for

we want to be ready when Jesus comes."

So one of them called the Lehmans, and beginning again they arose, one

by one, and told of their past life. When each one had finished he would

turn around and inquire of the rest if he had told everything. Three of

them were baptized members, and they evidently had been having a meeting

in their hut and became concerned about their condition. They had not

been guilty of any new sins, but were in doubt as to their standing

before God, and wanted pardon and cleansing. They had taken 1 John 1: 9

very literally. When the confessions were finished we all knelt in

prayer; and after we had prayed, they too most earnestly besought the

Lord that they might be set completely free from their past life. When

they arose to their feet their faces were shining and they said "God

had heard and answered."

Then, as they sat there, they told of their old lives and of the lives

of the people about us, until we felt that we were just beginning to

know the people among whom we were situated. Conditions which, up to

that time, they had been timid of telling, for fear of their people,

they now boldly and fearlessly exposed, and they seemed to be done once

and forever with their heathen past. Our hearts went up in gratitude to

the Father, and our eyes were opened more and more to see the real need

of this people and the obstacles in their way of becoming Christians.

People reared in Christian homes, with an entire Bible which they can

read from childhood, with the privileges of church and Sunday-school,

with good literature and hymns and many other advantages which might be

mentioned, cannot possibly, by any stretch of imagination, put

themselves in the place of those who are deprived of all these; and not

only that, but who, from infancy, have been in an atmosphere of

ignorance and superstition, reeking with influences the most foul and

loathsome imaginable. Then, too, is it to be wondered at that when

people, who have been brought up amid surroundings the most helpful

possible, spiritually, and the most conducive to growth in grace, grow

lean in soul and backslide--I say is it to be wondered at that the

Christians in heathen lands, in their desperate struggle against such

adverse and degrading surroundings, sometimes relapse into heathendom?

Not only is it not to be wondered at, but it is positively surprising

and a great cause for rejoicing among missionaries, that so many

grasping hold of the Everlasting Arm do once and forever shake off the

bog and filth of the bottomless pit and stand as monuments of His power

to save to the uttermost.

During the dry season of 1900 an aggressive campaign against Satan and

his followers among the rocks and strongholds was begun, for we felt

that the Lord would have us press the battle to the gates. During the

rainy seasons, when people are busy in their gardens, and when there is

a great deal of sickness, both school and evangelistic work suffer, so

that it is necessary to make the best use of the dry season. As soon as

the crops were gathered the school at the mission increased in numbers

and interest, and Brother and Sister Lehman opened a school at the

village of Chief Hluganisa. They rode back and forth day by day, and

when they were unable to go two of the boys were sent to teach. The

attendance and interest there were encouraging.

What of this chief, who had so kindly received the missionaries two

years before? It would be a pleasure to be able to report that he had

opened his heart to accept Christ as his Savior, but such was not the

case. He was very ready to receive the gifts of the white man, whether

from officials, missionaries, or any one else. He was also quite willing

that the school should be started in his village; for would not this

make his people wiser and more able to secure the good things of the

earth? But the white man's religion, he would none of it for himself. He

was a most troublesome beggar from first to last. Elder Engle, had made

him a present of a very good blanket, with which he was greatly pleased,

but he seldom came to services. When he came to the mission it was

always with the expectation of asking and receiving something.

One day he came to pay us sort of a state visit, and a little later his

three wives followed in order of their rank. We were desirous of

treating them all kindly after their long walk to pay us this visit, so

Mother Engle concluded to give them bread and tea. A plate of bread,

together with a quantity of tea and sugar, was placed before them. We

expected, of course, that all would receive some. The chief appropriated

everything; emptied all the sugar into the tea, drank all, and ate all

the bread. When they started home the wives went first, the lowest in

rank preceding, to prepare everything for their lord and master, who

followed at his leisure. One day one of the missionaries, tried by his

cupidity and avarice, gave him a straight talk. He did not return for

some months after this, not until the funeral of Sister Cress. Until

this day he continues to be a rank heathen, greedy, and superstitious,

and a lover of wives and beer.

All three of us by this time were fairly well prepared in the language,

and some of the boys were beginning to be helpful in evangelistic work.

Early in the season the Lehmans, with one of the men as guide, made a

tour to the southeast of us in a section not yet visited. They reported

an interesting and profitable trip and met the people from six different

kraals. As it was a section of raw heathendom, they were surprised to

find, at one of the kraals, a woman who joined heartily in the hymn

sung and was familiar with the words. On inquiry they found that when a

girl she had lived at the house of Rev. Thomas, one of the first

missionaries of Matabeleland. He had a station at some distance north of

Bulawayo, and his memory is much revered by those natives who knew him.

The brother and sister had the fortune, or misfortune, to be present at

a beer drink. This is their way of getting a lot of work done: They make

a quantity of beer; then call in their neighbors to help work, paying

them with beer. It is surprising how much beer they can consume at such

times. They often become quite boisterous and even intoxicated, and

frequently quarrel and fight as a result of their debauch. On this

occasion the men were friendly, but scarcely in a condition to receive

the Gospel. The travelers returned tired, but rejoicing in the Lord

because of another opportunity of sowing seed.

The life of a missionary is not full of exciting adventures and

encouraging incidents. It is very ordinary at times and very crushing at

others. The ups and downs would soon wear him out did he not take fast

hold of God and, looking up by faith, keep saying to Him, "Lord, this is

Thy work. Do Thou bear the burdens, the joys, and the sorrows that keep

crowding thick and fast upon me, and let me be only Thy instrument and

Thy weapon of warfare." I remember, during the first year, I at times

felt I was not burdened enough for the souls about me, and once spent

long hours of prayer, asking that the burden might rest more heavily. I

retired to rest. The next day the Lord answered the prayer of His

messenger. I thought it would crush me to the earth, but the lesson had

been learned. He knows how much we can bear, and we should always say,

"As Thou wilt."

In our visits among the people one day is much like another, but they

must be made in order to keep in touch with them. August 17 I wrote as

follows:

"One more day's work for Jesus,

One less of life for me,

But heaven is nearer and Christ is dearer,

Than yesterday to me.

His life and light fill all my soul tonight."

This being Saturday, I arose early to go out among the people.

After taking some food, I started a little after sunrise with

Sihlaba as guide. We went to visit the kraal of Siponka, about two

miles distant. These people have been on my mind for some time.

They are good-hearted but veritable heathen, and care only for the

good things of this life. They are entirely too indifferent to come

either to school or church, although two, who were members, live

here. The downward influence is too strong for even them, and

seemingly they have done according to the proverb.

Early as it was in the morning, the people were nearly all away,

but we found at home two men, some women, and boys and girls. There

was an opportunity for giving the Gospel to them, and the Lord

greatly helped in the presentation of His Word. They gradually

became interested and seemed at least to have greater light. May

the Lord send home the truth into their hearts!

Siyaya (one of the backslidden boys) went along with us to the home

of Amuzeze (another member). Here there were a number of women, one

man, and some young people. They were more willing than usual to

listen, also more able to understand, and Amuzeze took part in

prayer.

From there Siyaya also went along to Umvunzi's home. Poor boy! he

followed us around, seemingly hungry for the Word, but helplessly

overcome by the gross darkness surrounding him. At this last place

there were only a few present. The men from all these kraals had

gone a long distance to buy goats. Here the powers of darkness were

so great that I could not shake off the feeling and have victory in

speaking. I wonder what my spiritual status would be at the end of

the year, if I were obliged to live long amid such surroundings;

and yet I have Christ and His Spirit in my soul and much of His

Word written in my heart, while these poor ones have only

generations of paganism back of them.

We then turned our faces homeward, moving in something of a circle

and coming first to Seba's village. This is not far from the

mission, and yet it is our first visit to this place. The people

seemed very glad to see us, and some here had the privilege for the

first time of hearing the Gospel, and were eager to catch every

word. While we were speaking, a native, carrying poles, was

passing, and he put his poles down and entered to listen. He was a

stranger to me. A tall fine-looking fellow he was. He informed us

that he had moved near and was building a hut. Mapita and his wife

also had entered during the services. Seba invited us to remain for

dinner and eat of their _inkobe_ (boiled corn), but it was not yet

ready, so thanking him for his hospitality we continued our

journey.

First, the stranger invited us to go over and see his wife and the

hut he was building, which was only a short distance away. We did

so and here we met two women from our nearest kraal. We then

proceeded on our homeward way, and had gone only a short distance

when we met John (a Christian) and his brothers, who followed us

home.

On the way we stopped a few minutes at Mapita's home to see the

children, and then reached the mission at midday. The boys remained

a short time to talk. I then tidied my hut, made a dress and gave

it to a little girl,

and entertained a number of native women. After our three o'clock

dinner and worship I read and studied the language, and here it is

evening and the close of a very enjoyable day.

This account has been given, not because there was anything unusual

about it, but because it is typical of many Saturdays on the mission

field, and some of them have been days of the most exquisite enjoyment

we have ever known. Such days never seem to become monotonous. One

forgets the long and tiresome walk if he finds eager and interested

listeners at the end. Even if some steel their hearts against the Word,

there is still the consciousness to the messenger that he has done what

he could. Then again much of one's time on the mission station is spent

talking to the natives who come. They may not be anxious for the Gospel,

but one always hopes some word or message may sink into their hearts.

The first few years of the mission, the country was occasionally visited

by locusts, sometimes in such large swarms as almost to darken the face

of the sky. These were not the seventeen-year cicadas, which some people

are pleased to term locusts, but large grasshoppers, various kinds of

which made their appearance to the great destruction of crops and

vegetation. Sometimes the corn and the kafir corn would be stripped.

Again, an immense swarm would come suddenly and alight--so that in a

very short time the whole face of nature would be transformed from a

bright green to a reddish brown, the color of the locusts--and would

then as suddenly fly off without doing much harm. Wherever the locusts

settled for the night, the natives would be there early in the morning

with their nets and catch them for food.

The year 1900 was especially one of these locust years. During the dry

season, the adult locusts selected suitable places, remained to feed for

a time, then deposited their eggs in the earth and died. As at this time

the insects cannot fly, the natives catch them in large numbers and

carry them home for food. One such swarm settled about two miles from

the mission, and thither day after day went the women and girls to catch

them. They would put them in bags or large baskets and carry them home.

One could often see ten or twelve women walking through our premises,

each one carrying on her head a bushel or more of locusts. They would

cook them in large earthen pots, then spread them on the rocks to dry,

after which they would go for a fresh supply. When the locusts were dry

they would be stored away for food. In eating them the natives would

remove head, wings, and legs and eat them somewhat after the manner of

dried herring, and considered them a great delicacy, saying, "They are

our meat." We have partaken of them in this manner and found them not

unpalatable, and they are certainly a cleaner food than many things

eaten in civilized lands. The natives' favorite way of preparing the

locusts, however, was to stamp them in a stamping block, then cook them,

together with ground peanuts, into a gravy to be eaten with their

porridge.

Although many of the locusts had been safely stowed away in the native

storehouses, during this year, yet numbers remained in various parts of

the country to lay their eggs in the ground. When the rains came and

softened the ground these eggs hatched. After a colony hatched, the

little wingless larvae, or hoppers, started forth as an army, all going

in one direction. These armies were generally about a rod or two in

width and much greater in length, and woe to the young garden that came

in their way! They would spread over it, devour the tender shoots, and

then proceed in the same general direction in which they had been

traveling. The natural grass and herbage of the country was too tough

for them to eat. Not only one but several such armies coming from

different directions passed through our gardens that season, and some of

the cornfields had to be planted two or three times. One was finally

left unplanted, while our potatoes and many of the garden vegetables

were destroyed. At first we endeavored to fight them with fires when

they were seen to be approaching a garden, but this was soon found to be

useless. The missionaries felt the loss of their crops and vegetables,

but their loss could not be compared with that of the poor natives, many

of whom could not procure grain for a second planting, and they had

nothing else to depend upon.

During this year we were seriously contemplating an advanced step in the

work, by opening the way for more boys and girls to come as boarders.

They would thus be given a Christian home and be trained to work and to

habits of cleanliness. Up to this time the largest number staying at one

time was four boys; and one girl had come lately. The day was not far

distant when it would be necessary to erect better and more permanent

dwellings, as the huts were already showing signs of decay; and if more

boys could be received and these trained to make brick and assist in

building, it would be an advantage both to the boys and to the mission.

As the year drew near to a close there began to be a desire on the part

of some of the older boys to attend school and perhaps come to stay with

us. We knew enough of the native character to believe that it was best

not to throw out any special inducement, as it is always best for them

to desire a thing for themselves and to be fully persuaded in their own

minds so that they might not be wavering.

On New Year's Day, 1901, after the close of the services, a boy,

probably nineteen years of age, stood at the open door of my hut with

rather a wistful look on his face. He was well dressed and had been

working for white people, but had shown no interest in school or in the

Gospel up to this time. Something in his face that day prompted me to

say,

"Ndhlalambi, when are you coming to stay at the mission and give your

heart to the Lord?"

He promptly replied, "I am coming one week from tomorrow."

Afterwards, in giving his experience, he said, "While I was working at

the mines I became convicted of my wrongdoing and made up my mind that I

would come to the missionaries and go to school and give my heart to

Jesus. When I came I was afraid to ask and the Lord told Miss to ask

me."

He did come and did yield his heart to the Lord, and seemed to settle

it in his mind, if one may judge by subsequent actions. "I care not what

course others may take, but as for me I will serve the Lord." He made a

good confession and was always ready to step out into the light as it

shone on his pathway. His way, however, was not an easy one. He met with

violent opposition at times from an irascible pagan father, and

persecution in various ways, but he stood firm. A special test came to

him a year or two after he started to school. One day he came in great

distress and said,

"Father is very angry with me. My mother's brother died and left me a

lot of cattle and other property, and my parents wish me to go and claim

the property. But if I go, they will have a big dance and claim to call

back the spirit of my uncle and ask him his will about the property, and

they will want me to take part in their worship. I desire to follow the

Lord."

I said, "If you do not go perhaps you will not receive the property."

"That makes no difference," he replied. "I love the Lord more than I

love the cattle. Only pray that father will not be angry with me for

refusing to go."

Later he came with his face all aglow and said, "The Lord has heard our

prayers. Father is not angry with me any more."

In school he was slow but persevering, and in work likewise. He had his

faults, and seemed at times to be lacking in humility, yet he never

seemed to waver in his determination to follow the Lord.

Several other young men also applied for admission, among whom was

Gomo, a brother of Tebengo and Muza and Emyonleni; also two younger boys

who were already Christians, Masikwa and Madhliwa. There were now nine

boys, and several months afterward three girls came. These girls were

trained by Sister Lehman to do housework. The work was looking quite

encouraging, for all showed an interest in desiring to become

Christians.

As this rainy season came on, it could not fail to remind us of the loss

and of the trying times of the previous year. Some of our number thought

it best to go to a more healthy place until the rains were over. This,

however, would almost necessitate closing the work, which was not to be

thought of.

In the midst of the rains, in March, Sister Lehman took down with the

fever one day and on the following day her husband was also laid low.

The buildings at Matopo are in a healthy place, yet during the rainy

season one is always more or less exposed to fever, either by traveling

and sleeping out, or even by going down to the gardens in the valley in

the evening. At that time we did not understand so well how to check or

combat the fever as in later years. So the sick ones grew worse and

required my constant attention day and night for about ten or more days.

Fortunately the boys were good helpers, as there were no girls at the

time. Matshuba was able to take charge of the school; Ndhlalambi and one

of the little boys could help me in the kitchen and sickroom; Gomo did

the washing outside of the window where I could see and direct; and the

other boys attended to the gardens.

As the sick ones grew worse we sent a boy for a doctor, but on account

of the damp, rainy weather, he delayed several days before coming, so

that the fever was broken by the time he reached the mission. It was a

trying time and one of looking to the Lord on the part of the sick and

the well ones. To make matters worse some of the boys became quite ill,

and we were unable to give them the attention they needed. One day

Kelenki, who was very low, managed to crawl to the kitchen and begged to

be allowed to lie there by the stove. Mrs. Eyles kindly came out from

Bulawayo when at last the doctor was able to reach us. She remained for

a week during their convalescence and cared for the sick. This gave me a

much-needed rest and an opportunity to turn my attention to the boy, who

was still quite ill and needed help. It was a day of rejoicing when our

brother and sister and all were restored to health, and we were thankful

that the Lord had mercy upon us, lest we should have sorrow upon sorrow.

During the time we were passing through these afflictions, another

difficulty was staring us in the face, which threatened, if possible, to

be more serious than any which we had yet been called upon to meet. This

was the land question. Mention was made that we were looking toward the

erection of more permanent buildings. We had sent to the Board for money

for this purpose; also for money to survey the land. Up to this time the

3,000 acres upon which the mission had been located by the government,

had not been surveyed. It had been given only as a reservation for

mission purpose, and permission had also been granted that the

missionaries could stake off a plot of 3,000 acres and make a diagram

without going to the expense of employing a government surveyor, as that

kind of work is costly in Africa. For this purpose, the year previous,

four of us, Brethren Engle and Cress, together with Sister Heise and

myself, started out to stake out the land, supposing, as we had been

informed by the official who located the mission, that the two beacons

north of us were the limit of the surveyed territory. We climbed hills,

went over precipices, and waded swamps under a hot August sun and made a

diagram of the desired farm, only to find at the close that the result

was not satisfactory to the government. It was necessary for a

government survey to be made, and this had not been done; but we had

sent for money for the purpose, and the money had just arrived.

The day on which Sister Lehman took sick, two Europeans brought some

cattle and put them in our pen, from which the company's cattle had been

removed the previous year. They did not ask for permission to place

these cattle on the mission farm, and to us it seemed rather a bold

step. They informed us, however, that they thought a mistake had been

made in locating the mission, and that we were on surveyed land. They

stated that they were not certain in reference to the matter, as the

owners did not know the exact boundary of their farm.

The Charter Company, of Rhodesia had, especially at the close of the

war, made large concessions of land to companies, syndicates, and

individuals. These grants often comprised many thousands of acres, and

in many instances the owners, in the early days, did not know the

location of their land. They simply sent out a surveyor to measure and

stake off the requisite amount and erect beacons; then the land was left

entirely unimproved. If they were fortunate enough afterwards to know

the boundaries of the farms, they often sent out an agent to collect tax

of the natives living on it. The best of the land being disposed of,

very little remained for farmers, who would have improved the land, or

for missionaries, who would both improve it and instruct the natives. No

doubt the government, when too late, realized their lack of wisdom in

making some of these grants, as it greatly retarded the work of building

up and developing the country.

This was the condition of affairs when Matopo Mission was located. We

had, however, no intimation that a mistake might have been made in the

location, until informed by the two Europeans previously mentioned. One

of them desired to collect hut tax for the company owning the land, but

this he could not do, as he was not certain of the boundaries, and the

company, at the time, was not willing to bear the expense of having a

surveyor come out to locate the land. It is needless to say that it was

a dark and trying time for the missionaries. If we were on surveyed

land, we might have to change the mission site and much of the work

already accomplished would be lost. Again, how were we to find out where

we were? If a wealthy company did not care to bear the expense of

locating their land, how much less able were missionaries, whose

purses, at the best, are never too full! Should we go to the expense of

sending for a surveyor to locate us, we might be forced to move the

mission, and the outlay incurred would benefit the company alone. We

were in these wilds; could we succeed in locating ourselves?

As usual, when difficulties thus confronted us, we looked to Him who

never fails. Any one in the mission field has often reasons to be

thankful for the varied training and experiences of the home land; for

no knowledge or previous experience of whatever sort comes amiss when he

is out where there is little outside help. We had studied, hence had a

little knowledge of surveying. Would that knowledge help us here in

these fastnesses?

Mr. Jackson, the magistrate at Fort Usher, who had always been a friend

in need, was appealed to. He did not know the boundaries of the farms in

the immediate vicinity, but he knew the location of one important beacon

several miles north, for he had had occasion to settle a difficulty in

reference to it some time previous. So, with this knowledge to begin

with, we went to the government surveyor and secured a diagram of all

the farms in the vicinity of the mission. Thus equipped, and securing a

compass, we started for home. Brother Lehman made a temporary chain, and

together with some of the boys we went to the beacon pointed out by Mr.

Jackson. From this a survey was made south, and it was discovered that

the mission was on a tract of land known as "Matopo Block," owned by the

Bulawayo Syndicate. This was a farm of 25,000 acres, and it was about

twelve miles long. As there were no beacons for a distance of seven

miles on the south of the mission, it was not difficult to understand

how the mistake was made in the location. By further survey we

discovered that we were on the extreme east end of this farm, and a line

drawn nearly southeast from the beacon north of us would give the

mission the required 3,000 acres. Another surveyed farm lay adjoining

this on the east.

We had located the mission, but it remained to induce the government to

arrange with the syndicate and give them land elsewhere in exchange for

the amount promised to the mission. It is needless to enter into the

details of the slow process necessary for settling the difficulty, for

any one dealing with the affairs of government knows something of the

tediousness and red tape required. Letters were addressed to both the

government and to Mr. Rhodes, who was then on his estate near Bulawayo.

The government officials met the question in a spirit of conciliation

and fairness, promising to do all in their power to bring it to a

satisfactory settlement. We were asked later to make further survey, to

be certain that we had given the correct location. At one time it

appeared that the exchange could not be made, and we were requested to

look up another location. Looking to the Lord, we made another appeal,

which resulted, in September of the same year, in the mission being

allowed to retain its location. At first this was to have been only a

reservation, but the final papers, which were not made out until late in

1902, resulted in giving a ninety-nine-year lease, which was much more

satisfactory.

CHAPTER TEN

Reinforcements and Industrial Work

It is not the mere preacher that is wanted here. The bishops of Great

Britain, collected with all the classic youth of Oxford and Cambridge,

would effect nothing by mere talking with the intelligent people of

Uganda. It is the practical Christian tutor, who can teach people how to

become Christians, cure their diseases, construct dwellings, understand

and exemplify agriculture, turn his hand to anything, like a

sailor--this is the man who is wanted. Such an one, if he can be found,

would become the savior of Africa.--Henry M. Stanley.

During the progress of the land question and the negotiations with the

government, important changes were taking place in the personae of the

mission. In June of 1901 we were pleased to receive much-needed

reinforcements in the persons of Mr. Levi Doner and Miss Emma Long.

Accompanying them were Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Lehman, who were on their way

to engage in mission work at the Compounds in Johannesburg. On account

of the war they were not yet permitted to enter Johannesburg, so they

came to Matopo for a time.

At the same time Brother Isaac Lehman and wife thought it best to go to

Cape Town for a rest, as she had not fully recovered from her attack of

the fever. We were very sorry to lose so valuable colaborers at this

time, for they had the language and experience in mission work, and it

always requires time for new missionaries to take hold of the various

duties. I especially felt the loss of Brother Lehman, as I was the only

one left who could speak to the natives. Brother Doner, however, made

rapid strides in the language, and soon acquired a working knowledge of

it, and was also a willing and efficient messenger along all lines. Very

early in the work he was laid low with fever, but he recovered. Then

Sister Long was quite sick for a time. These experiences, coming so

early in their missionary career, were somewhat discouraging.

The mission family was steadily increasing. A number of other boys had

come to stay at the mission and become pupils and industrial workers.

From the very first in receiving boys at the mission station, it was our

plan to have them in school three and one-half hours and the rest of the

time, which was five or six hours, they were engaged in some industrial

work. As the natural inclination of the native is toward laziness and

filthiness in personal habits, we were opening the door and taking all

who desired to come and giving them a home, our aim being to take them

out of their degraded home surroundings and give them the threefold

training, spiritual, intellectual, and industrial, all of which seemed

necessary to help them become strong, established Christians.

These natives, for sanitary and other reasons, are always given their

own separate huts, away from the Europeans; they have their own native

food and live their own life. Some of them are appointed to grind and

cook their food and do the work of their kitchen. It could not be

otherwise in such a country. Even the most civilized natives as a rule

prefer to eat by themselves. The missionaries sometimes accept the

hospitality of the natives in their homes and eat of the food set before

them, but even there the natives will wait until the missionaries have

finished eating, or else they will eat in a separate place.

Since the pupils have time to do considerable work, they receive, in

addition to food and schooling, a small sum of money sufficient to

clothe themselves; and on Saturday afternoon, after washing their

clothing, they have the time for recreation and mending their clothing.

Up to this time the industrial work of the boys had been chiefly on the

farm and in the gardens; but now a new line of work was being

introduced, that of brickmaking. Brother Doner desired to start in this

work at least. It was at this time somewhat of an experiment, as the

various kinds of soil had to be tested so that he might know which was

best suited for this purpose. It was also too late in the season to

spend much time in this work. A few thousand of brick were made; and as

rains threatened to come early, they were hastily built into a kiln and

burnt. A beginning had been made, however, and some knowledge of

brickmaking gained.

During November of this year an event occurred which was second to none

in the history of the work. I refer to the arrival of Elder and Mrs.

Steigerwald, sent out to have charge of the mission.

We had been looking forward and hoping that some one might come in this

capacity. In the meantime we were carrying on the work as well as we

were able during the nineteen months since the death of Elder Engle. The

brother and sister took hold of the work courageously from the first. It

is not an easy task to begin mission work in heathen lands, among a

strange people, strange tongue, strange surroundings and ways of living.

It is no less easy to step into a work already begun amidst such

different surroundings and new ways of doing things, and find the work

pressing in on all sides. Such were the conditions that met Elder

Steigerwald from the first, but it soon became evident that he was equal

to the task.

Constant changes in the mission field are trying, both to the people and

to the missionaries themselves. Here two had been called away by death,

four had returned home (including Brother and Sister Van Blunk), and the

two Lehmans and their wives had gone to Cape Town. The people could not

help feeling these changes and scarcely knew what to expect. The changes

seem to have been unavoidable, yet it makes the people suspicious of

those who remain. The natives, like all those in heathen countries, love

to think that their missionaries have come to stay and be one with them.

The true missionary bears much the same relation to his people as the

parent does to the child; for they are his spiritual children. Then too

the language is not mastered in one, two, three years, or even in a

longer period of time. In fact, many do not master it in a lifetime, so

that all these changes could not fail to have their effect on the work

and the natives, and render the position of Brother Steigerwald a

difficult one.

His first important work was to unite in marriage, on Christmas Day,

Brother Doner and Sister Long. There were many more natives present on

this occasion than at the previous marriage to witness the ceremony and

to congratulate their missionaries.

Money had been forthcoming for permanent buildings which were greatly

needed. The huts were not only showing signs of decay, but some were

damp and unhealthful during the rainy season, and even became mouldy at

times. It was evident that, however convenient and useful they had been

in their time, their day was fast passing away, and for the comfort and

health of the missionaries something more permanent must be erected. The

rains had started before Elder Steigerwald's arrival, so no more bricks

could be made until the rains were over. Brother Doner was busy with the

farming, and this left Brother Steigerwald free to make preparations for

building.

There is an abundance of fine granite stones and slabs in the vicinity;

and as the new year of 1902 opened, he had these hauled together for a

foundation. During the rainy season, whenever the rains stopped for a

time, he built at the foundation of the house. Although he had natives

to assist, yet he found the work to be very heavy and taxing to his

strength, but by the end of the rainy season he had a most excellent

foundation for a house laid. Then he and Brother Doner, with the help of

the schoolboys and some other natives, made and burnt a large kiln of

bricks and were ready to begin the house.

[Illustration: Matopo Mission House. Front View.]

The brethren in Africa can tell you that building on a mission station

in the wilds of Africa is quite a different affair from what it is in

civilized countries, or even in the cities of Africa. In these latter

places, a man, desiring to build, buys his timber, his ready-made brick,

and other material. Then the stone masons come and lay the foundation.

The bricklayers, carpenters, plumbers, plasterers, and painters all

follow in their order, together with their helpers, and the work is

completed in an incredibly short space of time. On the mission field all

this usually falls to the lot of one man, from the blasting out of the

stone for the foundation and the brickmaking until the building is

completed. He is mason, bricklayer, carpenter, plumber, plasterer, all

in one. That one often is not a trained mechanic, or even a practical

one, but many times he comes direct from the farm, schoolroom, or

pulpit. With the many duties of a missionary pressing in upon him,

sufficient to occupy all his attention, he must in addition undertake

the laborious task of building a house, and even make most of the

furniture with which it is fitted up.

Some one may inquire, is it not possible to secure skilled workmen to do

the building? Yes, in some instances this can be done; but the high cost

of living in Africa raises the wages of skilled mechanics to such an

extreme height as to make it practically impossible for the missionary

to employ them. Again, he has around him raw natives, who need to be

taught to work, and his ambition is to do mission work in connection

with his building.

Elder Steigerwald was equal to the emergency, and together with the help

of Brother Doner and the natives, he completed the house in a little

over a year from the time he began to haul the stone. The house is

large, having nine good-sized rooms, with a fireplace in each one. There

is a broad veranda nearly all around it and an iron roof over the whole,

and it is a building that would be a credit to any one. The building is

high and dry and has good board floors in four of the rooms, which add

much to the healthfulness of it. Brother Steigerwald could no doubt tell

you, if he would, of many days of arduous toil, which threatened to

undermine his health; of many difficult and perplexing questions which

confronted him in the process of construction; of lying awake at night,

planning how everything was to be accomplished; especially how he was to

build three fireplaces opening into one chimney and all have a good

draft--a feat which he most successfully accomplished.

There were natives who lightened some of the heavier parts of the work,

but to train these to perform their work properly is often a greater

task than to do it one's self. This training must be done, however, if

the missionary is faithful to his trust of developing the native

character along useful lines as well as in giving him the Gospel. One of

the officials, in making a report of the work, stated, "Here, at least,

are missionaries who believe in teaching the natives the dignity of

labor." This is the course pursued at all our stations. To train them

properly is no easy task. It requires much wisdom, patience, firmness,

and love. One meets with many discouraging results and often with great

ingratitude on the part of those instructed; yet in the end it pays, if

natives are ever to be brought to a more civilized plane of living.

There is one thing which operates strongly against the natives

respecting labor. The average European, on coming to Africa, even though

he may have been a day laborer and hard-working man in the country from

which he came, soon sees that the more menial tasks fall to the natives;

and when he takes the hoe or pick or shovel, he is told, "We do not do

that here. Let the nigger do it and you oversee." The majority do not

need a second invitation, and so such work is relegated to his black

neighbor. The native soon sees, or thinks that he sees, that the white

man regards manual labor as beneath him. This training is exactly what

the African finds in his own home. He leaves the distasteful and hard

tasks to his wife and the younger members of his family, while he sits

down and enjoys himself. He is thus confirmed in his belief that labor

is degrading.

Not so with the missionary. He works continually along many lines, and

seeks to teach the native by his example, as well as by precept, the

dignity of labor, and that only indolence, dirt, vice, and kindred evils

are degrading. It is true that on account of climatic conditions and the

many duties falling continually to men and women on the mission field,

they are obliged, as their field of labor widens, to leave many lines of

work to the natives they have in training. If they did not do this the

spiritual part of the work and their own health would greatly suffer in

consequence.

Perhaps some one might ask, Do those ignorant blacks ever learn to be

cleanly and do their work properly? Yes, some of them respond in a

surprisingly short period of time to faithful, energetic, yet patient

training, and become real helpers to the missionary, both in the house

and outside. Some, in addition to handling the oxen on the farm, also

learn to use hammer, saw, chisel, and plane, and work side by side with

white mechanics in certain lines of work.

While the house was being built at the Matopo Mission, Matshuba, still

quite a young lad, was an interested spectator of everything that was

done, and he himself did carefully whatever he was able to perform.

When he found a small piece of lumber which was not likely to be used,

he would say, "Mufundisi [Missionary], may I have this?" If permission

was granted he carefully put it away, but said nothing. After several

pieces had been obtained, he asked permission to use tools and work-shop

on Saturday afternoon, when other work was stopped. He worked away in

the shop, asking questions of no one. After a few weeks had passed he

finally surprised us by showing a neatly-made chair, patterned after one

that had been purchased in town. He gradually learned to do all kinds of

work, as well as to build himself a good dwelling house.

There are almost insurmountable difficulties, however, in the way of

teaching the trades to the natives as a means of earning money. The cry

of the country is for industrial schools and for native skilled labor,

but almost in the same breath the European will tell you that he will

not work side by side with the native in the same line of work. A

gentleman in Bulawayo had a contract for a fine, large building. His

mechanics were white, while the blacks were the attendants. Being in

need of more skilled labor, he sent south to the more civilized portion

of the country for a native mechanic, and of course paid his way to

Bulawayo. The white mechanics absolutely refused to work with this

native and threatened to strike. The only course left for the contractor

was to pay the native some wages and his fare home. This was no heathen

native, but one who had grown up amid civilized surroundings, and no

doubt his parents also were civilized.

We do not wish to criticise such mechanics, for here, in a land where

the blacks so far outnumber the white population, there are many things

to be considered. But with these facts staring the missionary in the

face, there is little inducement for him to spend a great deal of time

in training natives. The only course left which will give the native any

chance at all in some sections of the country is for a contractor to

have all native mechanics. He might then be employed by the more

broad-minded Europeans, but be boycotted by others. Notwithstanding

these difficulties, industrial training in its broadest sense is very

important on the mission field, and it is encouraged by the governments.

It enables the natives to improve their condition and way of living and

to earn more money.

While these changes and the industrial training were in progress, the

intellectual and spiritual part of the work was not neglected. New boys

were continually coming, and some who came during these years were

destined to be of help in after years. First was Nyamzana, who began to

follow the Lord before coming as a boarder. Although not so quick in

books as some, yet he was a faithful and devoted Christian, never giving

his missionaries any uneasiness as to his spiritual standing. There were

also Nkwidini, Mlobeka, and Mahlenkle. The last named was a nephew of

the late king, and he had begun to attend school when the Lehmans were

teaching at the kraal of the chief. He was an exceptional native, most

steady and unassuming, ready and willing for any task assigned him. I

have mentioned these names because they with others already referred to

were among our future evangelists and teachers. Nor do I wish to forget

Kolisa, a son of Buka, whom we visited up in the hills.

Not all, however, continued to remain at the mission. Some left, never

to return. Others went away to work for a time, that they might obtain

more money and then return again to enter school. The new boys as they

came generally showed a desire to leave their old heathen lives and

become Christians. Others were a cause of great anxiety to us. There

were times of heart-searching and crying out to God, which showed that

His Spirit was still at work in their hearts. One after another would

come and confess their temptations and failures, and ask for prayer and

help that they might be more victorious over evil. Some would receive

definite help and blessing, while others seemed, for some reason, unable

to take hold of the Lord by faith. Often we would feel greatly

encouraged over the progress some were making, and look forward to their

becoming able helpers and soul-winners for Him, only to have our hopes

and expectations suddenly dashed to the ground. This was all a part of

our training as missionaries. The Lord was teaching us by these

experiences to take our eyes off individuals and fix them upon Him. He

was also giving us sufficient encouragement, day by day, through some

who were steadfast, to enable us to realize that our labor was not in

vain for the Lord. There were a number in the inquirers' class, and in

July, 1902, three more were baptized by Brother Steigerwald. Of this

number were Ndhlalambi and Nyamazana.

The attendance at school was not as satisfactory as could be desired.

The authority of the parents being paramount in the home, if there was

anything to be done, such as digging in the gardens, herding, keeping

the animals from the gardens, or running errands, the children must stay

at home and attend to it. An early morning school was also started for

those who could not attend at midday, and this enabled some of the

herdboys to attend.

The parents were especially opposed to their daughters attending school,

because they became unwilling to marry the old men to whom they were

betrothed. As we mentioned previously, several girls did come to stay at

the mission. One of them was Ganukisa, a daughter of the king. She was a

very nice, modest girl and proved a great help in many ways. She also

became a Christian and member of the Church. Another girl, Zwadini, ran

off from home twice and came to us, imploring us to save her from the

man her parents were forcing her to marry. We tried to buy her freedom,

but to no avail, and she finally was forced to return home and marry the

choice of her parents. At this time we had no right by law to interfere

in these matters, however much we longed to free some of these dear

girls from their lives of slavery. It required time and prayer and much

looking to God before a certain amount of freedom of choice was granted

the daughters, and then it came through an action of the government.

In the school some were making good progress. English and some other

branches had been added to the curriculum, but the Bible continued to be

the chief Textbook, and some were acquiring a fair understanding of it.

Natives have generally a keenness of discernment and a clear grasp of

the subject, so that it is necessary for the teacher to be well prepared

for any question that may arise. The one who was first at the mission

was a philosopher and a keen thinker. Nothing seemed to escape him. I

have heard him deliver most excellent sermons and bring far more out of

a Sunday-school lesson than the ordinary teacher. One day in reading the

book of Isaiah, he came to the eighteenth chapter. He knows nothing

about Ethiopia, but after he had finished reading, I inquired what

people the prophet referred to. He thought for a moment and then

exclaimed, "I believe he means us, the black people."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Continuation of the Work

Furlough

The missionary, however robust he may be, cannot keep at his work all

the time; for he generally works seven days in a week and fifty-two

weeks in a year. After a few years of such labor it is necessary to call

a halt, if one does not wish to break down altogether. New missionaries

can take much of the burden, yet those who have something of the

language and can speak to the people must be ready in season and out of

season, to talk, interpret, explain, as well as to have heart-to-heart

talks with the people.

I had now been actively engaged on the mission station for four

strenuous years and was greatly in need of a rest and change. The Board

at home, as well as the missionaries on the field, had been urging me to

go south for a few months. The only difficulty in the way was the need

of some one to take the school, and so we had been looking forward to

the return of Brother and Sister Lehman from Cape Town to take charge of

it. They, however, had been looking on the fields for mission work at

the Compounds on Johannesburg, and had decided to go there. As a last

resort we decided to ask Matshuba to do the teaching. He was capable of

doing it, and he was also becoming able to do some interpreting from

English into the vernacular.

Before this happened an event occurred which more or less concerned all

South Africa, and especially Rhodesia. I refer to the death, on March

26, 1902, of Cecil Rhodes at his home, Groot Schuur, near Cape Town, the

place where he had so kindly received Brother Engle on our first coming

to Africa. It had been his request to be buried in Rhodesia, the country

that bore his name. In the Matopo Hills was a beautiful spot which he

had discovered and to which he gave the name, "View of the World." This

is about fifteen miles from Matopo Mission, as the crow flies, but over

twenty-five miles by wagon road. Here, on the summit of a large granite

hill, in the heart of Matopo, is the spot he selected to be his last

resting place.

When the body was brought to Bulawayo, thousands of people, both white

and black, vied with each other in paying a last tribute of respect to

him who had done so much for the development of the country. The natives

realized that they had lost a friend that could not be replaced; and the

white people believed that no one could carry out so successfully many

of the public affairs with which he was associated. When the funeral

procession reached the burial place, the heavy casket was raised to the

top of the granite hill. Into the solid rock a grave had been cut, and

into this the casket was lowered. The grave was then covered by an

immense granite slab, on which was fastened a large brass plate with

this inscription: "Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes."

A part of his property was left for the improvement of the country to

which he had devoted his time and talents. His two large estates in

Rhodesia, together with an annuity, were bequeathed to this country; and

his fine and well-built estate near Cape Town was given over for the use

of the government of Cape Colony, but the grounds are continually opened

to the public. The Rhodes scholarships for various countries, including

two for each State in the United States, were given with a hope of

cementing nations together. He wished no monument to be erected over his

grave, but near the place is the Shangani Monument to the memory of

those who fell in the Matabele War. The grounds have been beautifully

laid out and a well-built road extends from Bulawayo to the grave. On

his estate at Cape Town is a granite monument seventy feet long, built

near the seat overlooking both the Atlantic and the Indian Oceans, where

he used to sit and lay his world-wide plans. There is a sad feature

connected with his life, like that of many other men whom the world

calls great. While he made so much provision for earthly things, there

seems to be no evidence that he made provision for eternity.

During this year there also died near us a native who had been more or

less interested in the work, by the name of Fusi. He had been a

prominent soldier under King Lobengula, and also remembered the first

king, Mzilikazi. He loved to talk about the good old days, and could

tell of a visit that Rev. Moffat, the father-in-law of Livingstone, once

made to this country. He said, "I remember Chete [Rev. Moffat] quite

well. I was just a young man at the time and King Mzilikazi treated

Chete nicely. He said to me, 'Go and milk a cow and bring some milk for

the missionary.'"

This old warrior, however, never showed any desire to become a

Christian; but he was always glad to have his people attend school, and

his youngest son was one of the first communicants. The native finally

became sick with dropsy, and when we visited him during his sickness, he

said an enemy had bewitched him, adding:

"Before the white man came into the country we put all the witches to

death and we were well. Now we are not allowed to kill them and we must

suffer."

Later we again visited him. When asked if we should sing for him, he

replied, "Yes, sing one of the old hymns you used to sing when

Missionary Engle was alive." We did so, and he too joined his quavering

voice in the chorus. He also listened most attentively to the Scripture

reading and comments that day, and joined us in prayer. What thoughts

these things stirred in his heart we know not, for that was the last

time we saw him.

In July of this year the time finally came for our furlough. I took a

ticket from Bulawayo south to Port Elizabeth. This was shortly after the

close of the Boer War, and all along the railway in the south were to be

seen the blockhouses erected to guard the railway from destruction. Here

and there were the demolished farmhouses and the orchards and beautiful

groves that had been leveled to the ground. Worst of all were the many

graves--mute testimony to that saddest of all human employment, human

butchery. Kimberley already was recovering from this terrible siege.

This was still a small town, its chief attraction being the great masses

of blue earth surrounding it. This diamondiferous blue rock is mined far

down in the earth, where it had been formed under great pressure; and

when brought to the surface, the combined action of rain and sun slakes

it somewhat like quicklime. It is then washed, which removes the lighter

earth, leaving the diamonds and other precious stones.

From this place I went to Port Elizabeth, which is 1,200 miles south of

Bulawayo. It is the principal seaport of Cape Colony, as it furnishes a

shorter and more direct route into the interior than Cape Town does.

This is a town of about 35,000 inhabitants, but there is nothing

especially inviting about the place except its thriving business. It has

been said of it: "Out of sand-hills and scrub, Anglo-Saxon energy has

created a town that, for cleanliness and health, and for the

handsomeness of its business buildings, is second to none in South

Africa." After a stay of a few days at this place I took the steamer

_Norman Castle_ for Durban, where the greater part of my vacation was to

be spent.

Durban is the seaport and largest town of Natal, and has nearly 70,000

inhabitants. The business part is low and often quite hot, but the part

known as the Berea is high and cool, and has many fine dwelling houses.

Natal is more thickly populated than other parts of South Africa. It has

a most luxuriant vegetation and varied and picturesque scenery, and well

deserves the appellation, "Garden of South Africa." In this warm, moist,

subtropical climate of the coast many delicious and tropical fruits are

grown. This is the home of the Zulu tribe of Africans, of which the

Matabele are a branch.

My special purpose in coming to this section of the country to rest was

to make my furlough as profitable as possible, and to gain information

helpful for mission work. Missionaries had been in this section of the

country the greater part of the nineteenth century. The American Board

had started their work some time in the '30s, and this formed an

excellent opportunity of seeing some of the fruits of missionary labors.

I spent some time at an English Mission under Mr. Eyles at Imbezana, at

a Free Methodist Mission and girls' school, Fairview, and at four

missions of the American Board--a boys' school at Adams, a large girls'

school at Inanda, and one at Umzumbi, and also visited their work at

Durban, in charge of Rev. Bridgeman. At all these places I was most

hospitably entertained and given every opportunity for studying the

work. It was an inspiration to see what God had wrought among these

erstwhile heathen. Here were large boarding-schools, and natives living

like white people in neat brick houses, built by themselves. Here were

missionaries, like Mrs. Edwards and Mrs. Bridgeman, grown old in this

soul-saving work, and yet so attached to the natives and the work that

they could not think of leaving the country.

Natal, like Cape Colony and the Transvaal, can no longer be called

heathen Africa, as so many of the natives are civilized. The large

cities of white people are built in modern style, with all the latest

improvements, electric lights, street cars, telephones, and the like,

and since then automobiles. There are also many white farmers, as well

as small towns of white people, throughout the country. Missionaries of

many societies are here in this densely-populated and easily-accessible

district of Natal. This is considered one of the greatest fields for the

overlapping of missionaries, perhaps, to be found anywhere, yet all seem

to have plenty to do.

With all the advantages for improvement which the Africans here possess,

I was surprised to meet, within a mile or two of one of the oldest

mission stations, natives with paint and grease, and when the

evangelists go to the homes of the people they still find some raw

heathen. Some not only do not and will not accept Christ, but they also

prefer their dirty, indolent, ignorant way of living to that introduced

by civilization.

At Durban I took the train to go north to Johannesburg, a distance of

480 miles. The war had been over for some time, yet it was still

necessary to procure a pass to enter Johannesburg. This I procured

through Brother Lehman, who was then at Johannesburg. People were

flocking thither as fast as they could procure passes and trains to

carry them. The trains were crowded every day, and one was obliged to

book ahead in order to secure a seat. This ride to Johannesburg is a

delightful one, so far as the scenery is concerned, but the winding

railroad is exceedingly rough and uncomfortable. One passes through a

landscape most beautiful and varied, from the green, grassy hills of the

coast, through mountains and valleys, to the high, rolling veldt of the

Rand, where the famous gold reefs of South Africa are to be found. In

this journey one leaves the sea level at Durban and gradually rises to

the height of 6,000 feet at Johannesburg. It is said of this place: "In

1886 the site was nothing but a bleak, bare plain, that could have been

bought for one hundred pounds. Then came the discovery of gold reefs

east and west for sixty miles, and stores, public buildings, and

churches sprang up with marvelous rapidity." This is now the largest,

richest, and most modern city of South Africa, and the Rand is this

sixty miles of gold-reef mines.

At these mines are many thousands of natives from all parts of South

Africa, and when they are not at work they are confined in large

enclosures known as "Compounds." This furnishes the missionary an

excellent opportunity of doing mission work among this conglomerate mass

of natives. The great variety of languages is one hindrance in the way,

but if the missionary is able to speak one of the chief divisions of the

Bantu family of languages, such as the Zulu, he can generally find some

native to interpret for him into other languages.

In this mission field we found our beloved colaborers, Brother and

Sister Isaac Lehman, who had just come from Cape Town and were becoming

settled in their new home. A dear little girl, Faith, had come to bless

their home and cheer their hearts. Brother Jacob Lehmans also were

engaged in mission work here, as well as our dear Sister Swanson (nee

Hershey), who had left us at Cape Town to come to this place. As our

Board had no mission station here at that time, these were all laboring

in connection with an undenominational mission in charge of Mr. A. W.

Baker. All were actively engaged in mission work. It is a broad field

and is a great opportunity for giving the Gospel to the heathen.

However, one has the same obstacles to encounter as in the native

village, _i. e._, the indifference of the people. While we would be

having a service in one part of the Compound, other natives would be

dancing within sight in another part, and often be making such a noise

as to disturb the meeting. One difficulty with the work is that the

natives often remain at the mines only six months or a year, not

sufficiently long to get them established. Much good is, however, being

done; schools are established to teach the natives when they are not at

work, and services are held regularly at various places. Natives,

accepting the Light, carry it to other parts of Africa, and sometimes

become teachers of their people.

After spending a most enjoyable month at this place I again returned to

Matopo Mission, after an absence of three and one-half months. It was a

pleasure to get back to the old battle ground, for it was still the most

beautiful spot on earth and its people the dearest. Great changes had

taken place during our absence. Then the foundation of the house had

been laid and the brick burnt, but now an imposing structure met the eye

and the house was rapidly being completed. It looked as if the

missionaries had come to stay and were to have a comfortable place to

live in.

The school was progressing favorably under Matshuba's management, and

all parts of the work seemed encouraging. As there was continually some

difficulty about the stability of some of the industrial pupils, it was

decided to divide the school year into two terms of five months each,

with a month's vacation intervening in which the pupils could return

home if they so desired. This worked well and seemed more satisfactory

to all. The one who had been teaching was retained as pupil teacher and

was also permitted to take advanced work.

[Illustration: "Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes."]

There was again opportunity for me to visit in their homes. So,

accompanied by some of the boys or girls, we made long excursions on

foot among the people, sometimes walking from eight to twelve miles and

meeting many people. Because so many missionaries had left them and did

not return, they were not a little pleased to see me back, and,

native-like, were inclined to make flattering speeches. One day we

visited nine kraals, and everywhere had attentive listeners, and the

people seemed to be hungry for the Word. At another time we went to

Sibula's village for the first time, where we met and gave the Gospel to

over one hundred people. They had never been visited before and seemed

anxious for a school. Later they built a schoolhouse, and Nyamzana was

given to them as a teacher.

One day when we were out to the kraals we happened to come to a beer

drink, where they were having a digging-bee.

They said, "Why does not Missionary Steigerwald invite the people to

come and dig his large gardens? He is so busy with building."

"Will you come if he invites you?" we asked.

"Certainly we will," they replied.

When we reached home we told Brother Steigerwald what they said, and he

at once thought it a splendid opportunity for getting his corn planted.

So he appointed a day and sent out invitations to the people. One

hundred and sixty-four adults with their hoes came and digged and

planted an eight or ten-acre lot. It was an interesting sight to see

that many people digging in one place. They would usually sing a native

song, and with their hoes keep time to the music. They performed this

piece of work without pay, and of course received no beer, but a

generous supply of bread and tea was furnished them, which they greatly

enjoyed. These Matabele are always very ready to come out to work when

invited, and in this respect they were a contrast to some natives. When

hired to do work, however, it was necessary to make them keep their

promise and come at the time appointed, and also finish their work.

Sister Steigerwald was much amused at Sibongamanzi shortly after she

came to the mission. My hut needed replastering, and Sibongamanzi was

engaged to do the work. The appointed day arrived, but the girl did not

come according to her promise, and as the work was urgent I employed

another girl to do it. The next day Sibongamanzi came to do the work and

was quite disappointed to find some one else had accomplished it.

I said, "Why did you not come yesterday according to your promise?"

"I am sure a person has a right to change her mind," she replied.

"Yes, I think so, too, so I employed some one else."

In school one is obliged to use the English word for such articles as

slate, pencil, and paper, since there is no word in the language for

these things. When Steigerwalds came, there were also a number of boxes

of goods sent out; and in unpacking these a pencil fell out. Sister

Steigerwald picked it up, and handing it to Masikwa, said, "Here is a

pencil." He was most delighted, and came and said, "The Inkosikazi

[Mrs.] can speak our language already. She said 'Pencil.'" Sister

Steigerwald, together with the other sisters, had their own experiences

in teaching natives in the kitchen and housework, as well as in sewing.

She proved most capable and patient in training various ones to be

cleanly and to do their work properly.

The services at the mission were well attended at this time, and

sometimes we were obliged to have an overflow meeting. Natives would

come fifteen miles to be present at the Sunday services. "Our little

church is too small," said some. "We need a new one."

Our congregations were gradually emerging from barbarism, and their

appearance on Sunday was often quite striking. Some of the boys and

young men would come, clean and neatly dressed in European clothes,

including hat and shoes, and exhibit good taste in the selection of

their clothing. Some again came well dressed but without shoes; others

would appear partly dressed, but anxious to display all the clothing

they had. Perhaps on a sweltering, hot day some would don a heavy winter

overcoat reaching below the knees, or a heavy suit of bright red

flannel. Another would have on a coat turned wrong side out to show all

the colors, and a vest outside of this, while a number continued to wear

the purely native garb of skins. A few of the girls were neatly clothed

in dresses; others in short skirts with or without a cloth thrown over

their shoulders. Some of the women's clothing was very modest and

picturesque.

Natives, especially at this stage of their advancement, do not as a rule

dress according to the weather, for to them clothing is more or less a

matter of ornamentation and they don it accordingly. One must be very

careful about placing special emphasis upon clothing, as the native is

naturally vain, and when he is able to be better clothed his vanity

often increases. He soon thinks that if he is clothed he is a Christian,

or if he goes to school and learns he is a Christian. He is quite ready

to put on these outward semblances of civilization without yielding

himself to God. If the missionary is willing to accept the outward form

of Christianity, whether of clothing or ceremonials, he may soon have a

large membership. He must continually guard against these things, and

seek to know the inner life of those about him, and their daily walk;

nor is it always easy to ascertain what is beneath the surface.

Hypocrisy is not at all unusual.