Early in our work there was a native who came occasionally to our

services. He had worked in Bulawayo and attended one of the native

churches sufficiently long to gain a smattering and lingo of

Christianity. He came clothed in black broadcloth and carrying a book

under his arm, and withal seemed a person of some consequence. He was a

brother of one of our boys, and we were informed that he could read. One

day in church, at the close of the services, he asked permission to say

something, and not knowing what was coming we gave him permission. He

arose and began to read out of his book and then talked. Again he read

and talked in a preaching way until he was finally requested to sit

down. As we were suspicious from his manner in regard to his ability to

read, we took occasion to test him and found that he knew absolutely

nothing about reading. What he gave had been memorized, and we learned

that his life too was decidedly corrupt. This taught us how necessary it

was to be careful of the stranger who came and claimed to be a

Christian.

December 26, 1902, there was a most welcome addition to the mission

family in the person of a little son to Brother and Sister Doner. This

was the first white child at the mission, and it was quite a curiosity

to the natives. Of course every one must have a look at it, and happy

was the one who might touch or hold this wonderful white baby.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Looking on the Fields

Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest? behold,

I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are

white already to harvest.--St. John 4: 35.

We moved into the new house early in 1903. This left the huts empty, for

our increasing family of boys. As soon as the rains were over for this

year, Brother and Sister Steigerwald and myself felt led to make a tour

of exploration in the interests of the work. Matopo Hills or Mountains

extend northeast and southwest for a distance of about sixty miles.

Between the hills and Bulawayo there is a mission station and work had

been carried on for some years, although there were at this time many

raw natives to be seen. Through the hills and south for a long distance

there were as yet no missionaries except our own, and as our mission was

on the north side of the hills, we desired to go through them and

explore some of the south side.

In June we arranged to make the trip, taking our large wagon on which

was a canvas top, which was drawn by donkeys, consequently progress was

slow. Three of our boys accompanied us. We were obliged to go west about

nine miles before a road could be found leading through the hills. This

wagon road was exceedingly rough and stony and very little traveled, and

the donkeys slowly wended their way in and out among the hills which

continually surrounded us and seemed to close us in. Frequently as the

immense piles of rock seemed to stretch across our path in front and bar

further progress, we would be led to exclaim, "Truly, there is no way

out of this," but on we went and the way continued to open.

The tediousness of the journey was relieved by the exceeding beauty of

the scenery as it gradually unfolded before our eyes. In the first of

the trip are to be seen the immense bald hills of solid granite, similar

to some in the vicinity of the mission. Soon the scene changes and the

eye is greeted on every side by lofty ridges, consisting of immense

boulders piled up in all sorts of fantastic shapes, by the Great

Architect, and from out of every possible crevice grow trees and

shrubbery of all sorts. The dark green of the foliage, interspersed with

the varying shades of grey, yellow, red, and green of the rock, forms a

picture of surpassing loveliness. Baboons, large and small, would make

their appearance on the jutting rocks, as we passed along, and bark at

these intruders into their peaceful domain.

As the hills abounded in game, and Elder Steigerwald was a good shot, we

did not want for meat on the journey. So, while the donkeys were

grazing, fires would be built and pot roasts and many sorts of

delectable dishes would be prepared and eaten with relish. Natives are

generally happy if they have plenty of meat to eat; so on this journey

Tebengo declared that they would be longing for the fleshpots of Egypt

when they returned to the mission. Next to meat, their favorite dish was

Graham flour made into a loaf by means of water and a little salt, then

baked in the hot ashes.

South of the hills we left the beaten track, which proceeds east to

Gwanda, and started south to the open country, which is known as Mapani

Land, named from the large amount of excellent hardwood Mapani trees

which grow here. Very few natives were seen on the journey through the

hills, but in this rich, open plain of the south there were numerous

kraals. The natives received us gladly and readily consented to have

services; and as there were no missionaries in this part of the country,

many of the people had the privilege of hearing for the first time the

Story of the Cross. On this trip we came to the home of Holi, a rich and

prominent native. His wife is a daughter of King Lobengula and a sister

of Ganukisa, who lived at the mission. Here we were very kindly received

and Holi presented Elder Steigerwald with a fine fat sheep.

From this point we turned west and north through the hills by a

different route. Along the way we visited some places of interest,

especially the "View of the World," where Mr. Rhodes was buried. Thence

we proceeded east and south to the mission. We had been absent about two

weeks, had traveled over one hundred miles, and had had a most pleasant

and profitable trip. It had also been a change from the labor and

routine of the station.

Brother and Sister Doner had for some time been contemplating opening

another station, and they concluded during this dry season also to make

a tour and explore the country, as well as do evangelistic work. They

made preparations to spend a month in this way, taking the wagon and

several boys. Little Oliver, who was then only seven months old, also

went along, thus early in his life learning what trekking in Africa

meant.

They went south over the same route we had taken, and it was on this

trip, if I mistake not, that the present site of Mapani Mission was

selected. They spent a very delightful month and came home quite

enthusiastic over the prospects of opening a new work and eager to

launch out at once. Permission did not come from the Board, however, in

time to open that dry season, and the work had to be postponed another

year.

During this year word came that one member of the Executive Board had

passed "over the river." Dear father died the latter part of March. It

was a double loss to some of us; for we should now miss not only his

fatherly letters, but the wise counsel that he gave in his capacity as a

member of the Mission Board. He always seemed to have such a keen

insight into the work, and wrote about it as if he had been on the field

and knew exactly our surroundings.

[Illustration: Matopo Mission Church. Built by Elder Steigerwald in

1905.]

The work at the mission continued to go along as usual, and two more

united with the Church, and everyone found plenty of profitable

employment. One feature of the work, not yet mentioned, but which always

requires much of the missionaries' time, is medical work and the care

of the sick. The natives accept the miracles of healing, mentioned in

the Scriptures, without question, and the sick frequently asked the

prayers of the missionaries. There were several instances of remarkable

cases of healing without the application of medicine, when the native

could be led to take hold of the Lord by faith. On one occasion a native

came for Elder Engle, from a kraal about five miles distant, where a

woman was very sick and had eaten nothing for several days. She was very

low indeed and seemingly unconscious of what was going on about her and

her friends were weeping. Brother Engle felt led to anoint her and pray

for her. The next day they came to say that the woman was much better

and was eating, and they declared that the missionary had raised her

from the dead.

At another time one of our Christian girls was sick with such a disease

that we knew we could not help her, and she desired prayer. We granted

her request and she was healed immediately, even to our surprise. Some

time after Brother Doner had come, an elderly native was quite ill with

lung trouble, and his people had been trying in every way to heal him.

They appealed to us, so we made the case a special subject of prayer and

he was healed immediately, and told everyone that Jesus had healed him.

A mother also wished us to pray for her child, who was very ill and

seemed ready to die at any minute; it too was healed at once. Other

instances of help might be cited; but we give these, because we see that

He is the same Christ yet today and often shows His power, saying unto

the sick, "According to your faith be it unto you."

[Illustration: Back View of Matopo Mission House, Showing Granite Hill

Beyond.]

Why He does not always choose to manifest His power in this way I know

not. I am giving things as I found them. At first we were more or less

loth to use medicine, and some of the early losses may have been owing

to this fact. We believe also that He receives honor in helping the

missionary make use of remedies to relieve the suffering of the sick.

With the natives sickness is always the result of witchcraft or the

influence of their ancestral spirits. If one can by means of remedies,

under the blessing of God, show them that this is not true, he is doing

much to overthrow some of their superstitious beliefs. So the sick are

visited in their homes and ministered to, and many come to the mission

for treatment. Sometimes the disease may be such as will not yield to

treatment, but the gentle sympathy and the delicacy for the appetite

are always much appreciated, even from some sources least expected. The

missionary necessarily becomes physician and nurse to his people, and it

brings him into contact with them and relieves their sufferings and thus

paves the way for ministering to their spiritual needs. He who neglects

this part of the work makes a grave mistake. Many missionaries, who had

done little medical work at home, have by a willingness and desire to

learn, become quite proficient in healing on the mission field.

Elder Steigerwald has been much used in this line of work. Many and

various cases have been treated by him most successfully. In addition to

the sick who come for medicine, there are generally some who remain for

a time at the mission to be treated.

During this dry season, as usual, kraal visiting occupied much of my

time outside of school hours, and many long and enjoyable trips were

made to all the villages surrounding us. During these journeys the Lord

was also reminding His messenger of some things that had been almost

forgotten. He was showing the large fields yet beyond where the people

were in pagan darkness and the Light of Life had not yet penetrated, and

where missionaries and teachers were greatly needed.

[Illustration: In the Matopo Hills.]

The reader of these pages will remember that our call had been to the

far interior of Africa, where Christ had not been named. When Matopo

Mission was started it was felt that here was my place to begin work,

but that the time would come when the Lord wanted me to press on farther

in the interior. This thought kept following me, and in the second

year of our work at Matopo, on my speaking to a friend of the call to

press on farther, the question was asked, "You do not intend to go

alone, do you?" My reply was, "No, I do not think that will be

necessary. Perhaps the Lord will raise up others who desire to go beyond

the Zambezi." Also, while Brother and Sister Van Blunk were at Matopo,

the question of going north was often mentioned, for their eyes were

likewise looking in that direction.

As time went on, however, and the work at Matopo increased, I entered

more and more deeply into it and became absorbed in my surroundings. The

children and also the older people occupied a large place in my heart

and crowded out for the time being all thought of anything else. The

Lord had to take His own way of cutting me loose and again lifting up my

eyes to the fields beyond, and I could not doubt but that His time was

near at hand. On the other hand, what a struggle it was to be willing to

leave these! He, however, showed me most strikingly one day that when I

was willing to lose these children there were others waiting to be

found; and when the work was given into His hands, He accomplished that

which to me was impossible.

First, the pushing out of the work must be presented to the Board and

the home Church and their consent and aid solicited. Permission was

given to return to America, and as Conference drew near, it seemed as if

the Lord's time had come for me to do this. Together with my colaborers,

we made it a special subject of prayer, and felt that I was to start at

once. So, on March 25, 1904, I left the mission for America. Sister

Emma Doner, as she bade me good-bye, said weeping, "If I did not know of

a truth that it was the Lord's will for you to go at this time I could

not say good-bye." That was the last time I was permitted to look into

her dear face. Brother and Sister Steigerwald, together with several of

the boys, accompanied me to Bulawayo, where I took the train for Cape

Town.

I shall not dwell on the events of that journey to America, for many

things connected with it are too sacred to find way into public print.

It is sufficient to say that it was a time of severe sifting and

testing, but of such sweet fellowship with the Father, that I would not

blot it out of my life, if I could. I learned, in truth, what that

meant, "With God all things are possible." After it was over one of

God's children greatly desired to hear of the trip home, and when told,

he was quiet for a time; then he said, "I believe it was God's

preparation for going farther into the interior. I believe the way will

open."

America was reached just in time for Conference in Ontario. We were

sorry to learn that Elder S. Zook, the Treasurer of the Foreign Mission

Board, had in the meantime passed away in February. We greatly missed

him who had always been such an able pillar in the Church and missionary

work, for his farsightedness and wise counsel had smoothed the way in

many a difficulty. The old fathers were thus passing away and the work

was devolving upon younger shoulders, but they were equal to the task.

The Executive Board now consisted of Brethren J. R. Zook, Chairman; Eli

M. Engle, Secretary; and Peter Climenhage, Treasurer, two of whom had

been connected with the foreign missionary work from its inception.

A report of the work from the field met with an enthusiastic reception,

and it was requested that the churches all be visited and an account of

the mission work be given. Permission was also granted for an appeal to

be made for pressing the work on into the interior, both for workers and

funds.

In the meantime Miss Sallie Kreider had gone to Africa to engage in

mission work, and Elder and Mrs. John Meyers and Miss Lydia Heise had

also gone there on a visit. Brother and Sister Doner, with some of the

mission boys, had gone to Mapani to open a mission station in August,

1904. At first Brother Doner was troubled with fever, and much of the

hut building fell to Ndhlalambi; then Sister Doner became quite ill, and

Sister Kreider hastened down to assist in caring for her, but she passed

away. Thus three precious lives had been sacrificed for the people and

the work. Brother Doner was desirous of taking the body and laying it by

the side of the others at Matopo. This was unusual in a hot climate like

this, where interment is usually attended to at once, and the natives

too object to carrying a dead body, so there was much parleying before

they would consent to take hold of the bier and carry it. The way over

the hills was much shorter, but it was also much more difficult. It was

an exceedingly trying journey for all of them, and only the grace of God

could have sustained them through it; but Brother Doner had the comfort

and satisfaction of seeing his loved one resting in the little cemetery

beside Sister Cress and Brother Engle.

Sister Doner's stay of over three years in Africa was almost a continual

struggle, one might say, against disease, and heroically she bore up

under it. Her constitution was naturally not very rugged, and this

malarial climate aggravated her disease, as it is sure to do with any

one who is not strong. She was afraid to write home and inform her

friends of the condition of her health, lest they should insist upon her

return to America, and that she did not desire. She loved the work among

the heathen, and we believe she had her desire in laying down her life

in their behalf, rather than return to America where she might have

lived for a longer time. Little Oliver continued to thrive, but as

Brother Doner's health was great impaired, it was deemed advisable that

he return to America on furlough and, after placing Oliver with friends,

regain his own health. So in the spring of 1905 he left for America, and

Ndhlalambi was left to care for the work just started at Mapani.

In America the work was progressing; a number had volunteered for the

foreign field, and four were ready to go to Africa at once; these being

Mr. and Mrs. Harvey Frey and Misses Adda Engle and Abbie Bert. Over

$2,000 had been donated toward pushing the work on into the interior.

This was offered to the Mission Board, but they concluded that it was

best to leave it in our hands toward the opening of the work. Of the

four new missionaries who were going to Africa, none were pledged to

the interior work except Sister Engle, but we still hoped others would

be ready to go.

We reached Matopo Mission August 1, 1905, and rejoiced that the Lord

permitted us again to return. Some very noticeable changes had taken

place during our absence: Brother Steigerwald had been busy making

improvements, and a fine, large brick church, with an iron roof, had

been erected. This was much needed and it added greatly to the

appearance of the mission premises. The women, about eighty in number,

gladly offered their services free to put in a fine polished earthen

floor. A number of the class members had been baptized, and Matshuba was

doing well in the schoolroom, where Sister Kreider was also doing some

teaching.

[Illustration: Mapani Mission, 1907.]

Ndhlalambi had been holding on faithfully at Mapani Mission. A number

there had accepted Christ and he had formed them into a class for

instruction. It was thought advisable for Sister Engle and myself to

spend the remainder of the dry season at Mapani and help in the work

there, so we turned our faces in that direction. We were there two

months and helped in the various lines of work and visited some of the

people in the surrounding neighborhood. Some of the converts were very

encouraging at that place. At the time in which the rains usually open

we returned to Matopo. On the way down we had gone by wagon road, but on

our return four donkeys had been sent down, two for pack saddles and the

other two for Sister Engle and me to ride, and two boys came along to

assist in the homeward journey.

[Illustration: Kwidine Taking His Aunt to Church. Matopo M. Hospital.]

We left Mapani Mission at sunrise and took the shorter journey across

the hills, the same path along which they had carried the body of Sister

Doner the year previous. It was a most difficult trip for us and we had

to marvel how they could have possibly made the journey. We were obliged

to stop on the way and let the donkeys graze and eat, and did not reach

the hills proper until afternoon. As the climbing was difficult and

there were many trees and shrubs growing out from between the rocks, it

was difficult for us to keep our seats, so we dismounted and walked. The

pack saddles would frequently be nearly brushed off the other donkeys.

Once one of the donkeys in attempting to go up a steep rock fell back

and became fast in the rocks. The boys removed the load and carried it

up; they then extricated the donkey and after much persuasion got it on

the rock and again placed on the load. By the time we reached the

summit, darkness had overtaken us and we were obliged to make the

descent in the dark. We knew not where we were going, and were

frequently in danger of broken limbs or becoming fast in the rocks. We

were very thankful when at last at eleven o'clock we reached the mission

without any serious accident. This was one of Sister Engle's first

experiences in Africa, but from her composure through it all one would

judge that she expected such things.

[Illustration: Christian Wedding Reception Near Matopo.]

Ndhlalambi remained on at the work in Mapani most of the time for one

and one-half years, and when Brother Doner at last returned there were

some nearly ready for baptism. Not long afterwards thirteen were

baptized there and proved faithful Christians.

Brother and Sister Steigerwald had now had four very strenuous years of

work at Matopo and were in need of a change. So, while the new workers

were at Matopo, the way was opened for them to go to Cape Town over the

rainy season. Here they had a good rest and returned in April, 1906,

quite refreshed, ready to take up their duties at their station. Brother

Doner also returned from America at the same time and was ready to

resume work at Mapani.

There had been some pupils attending school at Matopo Mission, from

Mtshabezi Valley, south of the hills, but about fifteen miles east of

Brother Doner's station. These had strongly urged that a mission be

planted in their midst. Brother Steigerwald promised them to consider

the matter, and at the opening of the dry season Brother Frey went to

see that part of the country. He was much pleased with the outlook and

felt led to open work there. This is the origin of Mtshabezi Mission

which was started in July, 1906. The phenomenal success attending that

work since helps to confirm the belief that it was a work of the Lord's

own planting.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Religion of the Matabele and Subject Tribes

In order to understand a people properly one must know something of

their religious beliefs; for all the important actions of their lives

rest upon their religion. Find out what a person believes and you have a

pretty good idea of his character. A native is loth to talk about his

religion, and will, unless he fully understands and trusts the

questioner, often evade answering directly questions asked upon this

subject. It is somewhat difficult to dissociate the religious beliefs of

the Matabele from those of the first inhabitants of the country, as the

two are so closely interwoven.

It would seem that all the natives, with whom we have come into contact,

have some conception of a God, however vague that conception may be.

They do not as a rule discuss Him and His attributes among themselves,

and so differ greatly in the attributes ascribed to Him. They often

prefer to deal with and worship the lesser spirits, especially the

shades of their ancestors with whom they are somewhat familiar, than a

great God Whom they do not know and Whom they fear, for the shades they

think can intercede for them. The native is really very religious, but

prefers to take that religion found ready to hand rather than to make an

attempt to fathom that which he does not understand.

The Matabele when asked who their god is will readily respond that it is

the King Umzilikazi. They say, "He gave us the country and everything we

have, and our customs and laws, and him we worship." This can be easily

understood from the belief of the Zulu tribe, of which this is a branch.

The Zulu will say that Umkulukulu (the oldest or first one) is the one

to be worshiped, as he gave all the rest their religion and customs. As

their ideas of worship were very elastic, there was no difficulty in

including other departed spirits in the list of those worshiped. All who

left them could intercede for them in the spirit world; hence, when the

old queen was buried, the woman who washed her face just before burial

said, "Go in peace and speak a good word for us to the king, and to

those who have gone before, so that we too may find a place and not be

found fault with."

This very fact, that their religious beliefs are so elastic, makes

missionary work often the more difficult and discouraging among them.

They will quite readily accept the God one preaches, and Christ as the

Savior of men, but to their way of thinking this does not interfere with

their worship. This fact was forcibly thrust upon me one day in coming

to a kraal near the mission that had been frequently visited. The people

here had much light and often came to the services, and their son

Masikwa was a baptized member. On this occasion we found the older

people worshiping the spirits, and said to the woman,

"How is this? We thought that you worshiped the Lord Jesus."

"Oh! yes, we do," she replied, "He is the Big Spirit and we worship Him

too."

It was not at all difficult for her to include Him among the number of

spirits to be worshiped. She was willing to accept all who might be able

to help them, and even give Him a large place alongside of the others.

The fact that He had been on earth and died only added to the conception

that He was like the rest. The force of the resurrection idea she had

not grasped. It will be readily seen how difficult it is to inculcate

the idea of one Supreme Being Who alone should be worshiped, and Who is

a jealous God and will brook no rivals.

On the other hand, the belief in an intercessor has its useful side in

giving them the Gospel, for we endeavor to impress upon their minds that

Christ is the Great Intercessor, Who "ever liveth to make intercession

for them," a risen Savior, not a dead One. The great question here is,

"Intercede for what?" Sins they do not claim to have. To them religion

has nothing to do with morals, for neither if they live pure moral lives

are they the better, nor if they are base and licentious are they worse

when they come to die. The spirits whom they worship are of their own

conception and have the same loves and hates. As Mr. J. W. Jack says:

"Down all the ages to the present time so frightful have been the

abysses of depravity, the intolerable cruelty, the extravagances of

nameless lust associated with religion, that if the veil were lifted,

Christianity could not bear the story." The raw native will tell you

that lying, stealing, murder, and adultery are bad, but they do not

look upon these as having anything to do with their religion.

Again, the very fact that they are so tolerant in their religious views,

and so ready to include all, led the Matabele early in their history to

adopt the religion of the conquered tribes. The oldest and, to them, the

most powerful and most widely-worshiped of these heathen deities was

Umlimo. This was the name of one worshiped by the Makalanga. He was

supposed to have his abode in the Matopo Hills, several of which places

are still pointed out. If one may judge from the information received

from the natives, the worship greatly resembled that of the ancient

Greek oracles. When any important question of the tribe was in need of

solution, or even when individual questions arose, they would go to the

hill or cave in which the Umlimo was supposed to have his dwelling

place, carry a present, perhaps of beer, meat, or other food, and,

placing it on the rock, remove to a respectful distance and then make

known their wants. They said the answer would come from the very depths

of the earth.

It is said: "The answer was given by means of ventriloquism and, as the

speaker was inside the cave and invisible, the voice appeared to the

inquirer to issue from the very bowels of the earth. The extreme

ingenuity of the device will be better appreciated when it is known that

the spirits of the departed are universally believed by the natives to

dwell in an under world. For a ventriloquist to practice his calling as

a diviner in the foregoing manner is probably not unworthy of that

oracle which Socrates himself felt it necessary to consult at Delphi."

In this way they would inquire as to the cause of drought, rinderpest

among the cattle, locusts, and the like, and they were told that these

came through the white man. In speaking of their worship some would

acknowledge that a priest dwelt in the cave and received their

offerings, and that he would consult Umlimo and give forth the answer in

sepulchral tones to the worshipers. This god was also worshiped at the

opening of every year by a great dance, so that he would send an

abundance of rain. One special place of worship was in a large cave in

the midst of the Makalanga country. As this was said to be only about

five or six miles from Mapani Mission, I had a desire to visit the spot

and see what it was like. Setyokupi, one of the first Christian girls at

Mapani, offered to accompany Ndhlamlabi and myself to the cave, as she

lived near the place but had never visited it. We started early one

morning to the home of Setyokupi, which was several miles from the

mission, and from there continued our journey to the cave. It was much

farther than we had anticipated, and we walked quite a distance before

reaching the immense kopje, or hill of stone, in which the cave was.

Then our way wound round and round among the rocks for a long distance.

Setyokupi saw that the task was greater than she had anticipated, and

fearful of losing ourselves, we asked a young lad, whom we met in the

neighborhood, to guide us. After reaching the cave we were obliged to

climb forty or fifty feet up the side of the rock before we could

enter.

It was a large cave, extending back into the rocks, and would have

formed several good-sized rooms. We had understood that the worshipers

generally took a present and left it in the cave. This was frequently a

branch or twig of a tree; consequently there were to be seen in it many

dried leaves and branches of trees, the thought in their mind in this

connection being no doubt similar to that of the olive branch of peace.

There were also a few old ornaments and cloth, but nothing of value.

Here it was said the people came to have their yearly dance and pray for

rain. Everything on the inside was quite old, and it looked as if the

place had not been visited lately, but we were informed that there was

another and more important place of worship in the vicinity in which

there was a pool of water. This we did not see, nor did we learn of its

location. The day was fast passing and we were obliged to hasten back to

the mission.

At this time, 1905, Europeans had already been fifteen years in some

parts of the country and the natives about Matopo Mission were always

quite willing for anyone to be present at their religious festivals.

Many were beginning to throw off some of their old superstitious ideas,

and some were accepting Christ; so there was no thought of impropriety

in our making this tour of investigation. The account of it no doubt

came out through the little boy who accompanied us, and although these

natives in Mapaniland were more raw than those about Matopo Mission,

perhaps nothing further would have been thought of the visit, had the

rains come on that year at the usual time. Unfortunately they were

exceptionally late, not really coming until the first of January, and

the people were becoming desperate. It is always necessary for the

heathen to let the blame rest somewhere, and as the witch doctors and

diviners generally hate the missionaries because of their loss of custom

and prestige, so they naturally put the blame upon our visit to the

cave. I never learned that they placed the blame upon myself, but they

did upon those who accompanied me. Ndhlalambi's life was really in

danger that year and his people were much concerned for his safety. He,

however, did not seem concerned about himself and continued to go back

and forth and see about the work at Mapani. Several years later

Setyokupi, who is a most devoted Christian, had to bear the blame from

the older people for a similar drought, the years of plenty intervening

being overlooked. We as missionaries, however, always try to be careful

not to stir up unecessarily the opposition of the natives.

According to some of the older natives Umlimo is worshiped under various

names; in fact, there is a trinity. In the hills to the south is the

father, Shologulu. He is stern and unbending and is to be greatly

feared. In the east is the son, Lunzi, who is kind and easy to be

entreated. The mother, Banyanchaba, is in the north. Just how much

tradition, handed down from Christianity, is embodied in this idea

cannot be ascertained, but the belief is quite ancient.

Again, some of the natives say that certain of the people at times

claimed to be Umlimo and to have the power ascribed to him. One of these

was a woman whom the king, in order to test her power, put in a hut

near him. He convinced himself of her false pretenses and punished her

accordingly.

In a general way natives do not concern themselves about a Supreme God.

Some, of course, will readily say that He made everything. Again we have

inquired of others,

"Who made the trees, the rocks, the grass?"

They will answer, "We came here and found them already created, so we

did not concern ourselves to inquire who made them."

This indifference or spiritual laziness had much to do with their

religion. On another occasion we were speaking with a native living near

Mapani Mission, and were telling him that he ought to repent and accept

Christ as his Savior. To excuse himself he said:

"He made me. He brought me into the world and it is His business to boss

me up."

He really meant to say, "I am here by no choice of my own. He made me. I

am His and He has a right to do as He pleases with me."

This idea of fate runs through all their beliefs. They have no volition

of their own. Everything that comes to them, whether of accident,

sickness, ill luck, or whatever it may be, is the result of malevolent

spirits which are in league against them. In fact, all their worship is

one of the propitiation of the malevolent spirits. Good spirits will not

harm them.

One day in the Sabbath-school class, where questions were freely asked,

one of the older men said, "Since I hear you tell who God is and what

He likes, and who Satan is and what he does, I see that our god, whom

we have been worshiping, is Satan himself."

The _amadhlozi_ (spirits of the departed) are constantly besetting their

path, causing sickness or misfortune, or else helping them to do what

they desire. Their expression, for ill luck is _Angi ladhlozi_ (I do not

have any spirit). When sick they send for the witch doctor to tell where

the trouble is. He may say that one of the spirits thinks he had not

been properly treated and wishes a goat. The goat is brought and killed,

and a small portion of meat is used with medicine for the sick, but by

far the greater part of the meat is generally appropriated by the witch

doctor himself, who was no doubt more desirous of it than the shades.

If health is not forthcoming for the sick, he is certainly bewitched.

This is generally the belief when one dies or is suffering from an

incurable disease. The witch doctor then takes his "bones" and "smells

out" the supposed witch, and he is very careful to select as his victim

one who is not very popular in the community by reason of his wealth or

other circumstances. This one is accused of bewitching, and is

ignominiously put to death, and all his property confiscated.

Since the occupation of the country by the English much of this killing

of supposed witches is done away with, but there are still violent

deaths, which looks suspicious. Since our stay at Matopo there was an

instance of an old woman being drowned, which was traced directly to the

witch doctor and he was punished. There were also several instances of

supposed suicide by hanging, which looked as if there might have been

foul play, but which could not be ferreted. It is not unusual for the

old or infirm to be gotten rid of in this way, especially by the ordeal

of drinking poison.

It would be unjust to say that their doctors never use remedies; in

fact, they have many herbs which they use and some of these are very

efficacious. In fever we have seen them administer a greenish-looking

powder of a native herb, which tasted much like quinine, and we were

surprised once to see a native physician pass through the mission

premises with a wallet full of various kinds of herbs. He had a pass

from the magistrate to practice among the natives, and he proudly opened

his wallet and displayed his drugs. Notwithstanding that they have these

remedies, yet, in practice, this is often so mixed with charms and other

superstitious ideas, that it is difficult to tell wherein the real

remedy lies. A witch doctor, who lived near us and who had much light,

exclaimed one day, "I can give medicine, and if the Lord says the sick

will recover, he will recover; if He says the sick one will die, he will

die; my medicine cannot save him."

When one treats a native in his home for any disease, it is always

difficult to induce his people to follow the prescribed treatment; for

they desire often to use their arts as well. A case of scurvy was at one

of the villages, and they came to the mission for help. We went over.

The boy had been losing blood for several days and was very weak,

seemingly in the last stages of the disease. They had been using their

arts, but to no avail, and had come to the mission as a last resort.

Elder Steigerwald reproved them for waiting so long, and took hold of

the case, hoping still to save him. After looking to the Lord for

guidance, he managed to get the bleeding stopped, but to see that

everything was properly carried out one of us remained for a time at the

kraal. When he was thought to be out of danger he was left with his

people, with strict injunctions to do just as they were told. When the

patient was next visited it was found that the people had again brought

out their charms and put them about his head, and it was necessary to

frighten them thoroughly before they would follow instructions.

Parents are always very anxious to have their children at home if they

become sick. This may partly be owing to natural solicitation on the

part of the parents, for they love their children as well as white

parents do, but it is also due to the fact that they cannot use their

divinations properly except at home. Then, too, if they die, they are

always anxious that their people die at home. In this way we often had

great difficulty in keeping at the mission some who were sick and needed

care.

One of our boys was very sick and we had been unable to help him, and

both he and ourselves were looking to the Lord in his behalf. He was a

good Christian and perfectly conscious all the time, and quite ready and

willing to die if such was the Lord's will. His parents lived near and

had been trying to take him home, but he did not wish to go; and we too

thought it best for him to remain under our care. When he became very

low, it was necessary to inform his parents. The father, who was a very

violent and wrathy man, was determined to take the boy home, but we

felt sure that a move at that time would be fatal, and told the father

so.

He replied, "I'll take him home if he dies on the way. I'll not have it

said that my child died and was buried away from home." And it was with

great difficulty that he could be prevailed upon to let the boy remain.

The Lord heard our prayer in his behalf and he recovered.

From what has been written it may readily be seen that the African

believes in the immortality of the soul; that the souls of the departed

take cognizance of what is done on the earth by the survivors; and that

they have power over those who dwell on the earth to help, harm, or

intercede in their behalf. They also believe in transmigration of souls,

that the spirit of the departed often enters a snake, bird, lion,

rhinoceros, or other animals, each of these tribes having its own

especial animal. This does not necessarily imply that the soul remains

in these forms. Frequently they speak of the animals as only a medium

through which the spirit appears to its friends.

The Matabele revere the snake and will not kill it. The first year of

the mission a long snake entered one of the huts, that was in process of

erection, and climbed up near the roof. I told one of the boys to knock

it down and kill it. He recoiled from the idea and refused. Thinking he

was afraid I took a hoe, knocked it down and killed it. When other

natives came to the mission the incident was related to them by the boys

and they expressed great surprise. I rather supposed that they were

surprised at my prowess, until one woman who knew me better than the

others exclaimed, "Were you not afraid to kill it? Perhaps it was one of

your friends." I then found out that the snake was an object of

reverence.

Matshuba said that when his father was ill a snake entered his hut and

he exclaimed, "That looks like a child of mine, it is so pretty. It is

your brother, Matshuba."

"Is that the reason," we inquired, "why so many people are afraid to

kill snakes?"

"Yes," he replied, "they think their friends come to visit them in this

form."

Again, once while out kraal-visiting we were speaking to some people who

were working in their garden. Some one came from their kraal with a

message of some kind, and soon all was commotion and hurry.

I inquired, "What is the matter? Where are you going?"

They answered, "Two snakes have entered our hut and we must go and see

them."

"Will you kill them?"

"No, they are probably some of our friends, who have come to visit us,"

was the reply.

The people were also accustomed to use a goat in their worship and then

drive it away on the veldt. I know very little of this ceremony, except

that when it was told to me, I was forcibly reminded of the "scapegoat"

of the Israelites. Each family also has a sacred ox or cow among the

herd. They do not worship images, and are surprised to find that there

are people on earth who do. Two of the boys in reading their Bibles one

day learned for the first time that some people worship images made by

men's hand, and they were as much surprised as any white child could

have been.

"Do they answer their prayers?" inquired they. "Can they talk, or do

they know anything? Is it something like we make cattle out of mud to

play with?"

We are accustomed to despise people who worship animals, and it is

certainly not very elevating; but they are God's handiwork, and are they

not superior to many of the hideous images of idolatrous nations? When

these people do worship, the object of their reverence is not the

animal, but the souls of their people who they think enter the animals.

Spiritualism is a legitimate product of their beliefs. I can best

illustrate this feature of their worship by giving an instance which

came to our notice in the year 1900. It was a religious dance. The chief

actors had come from a distance and the worship was in honor of one of

their dead relatives, the aim being to bring back the soul and hold

conference with it through one who acted as medium.

We felt to avail ourselves of this opportunity of seeing something of

their worship, that we might have a better understanding of the same.

The mother of Kelenki, one of our converts, participated and she,

heathenlike, was anxious to have her boy take part, but he of course

refused, as he had always done when urged to join with them. It was only

about two miles from the mission, so Brother and Sister Lehman and

myself went over for a short time. We entered the village at about 3 P.

M. and found about one hundred people assembled. They had just been

drinking beer and were feeling quite good. As many of them knew us, they

greeted us quite pleasantly, nothing loath to see us on this occasion,

provided we did not interfere in their worship.

One of the most noticeable features at first was the evident attempt at

ornamentation on the part of the women, especially the older women who

were to take active part in the proceedings. We might add that only the

older people took part in this dance, and that the ornamentation of the

body is always a noticeable feature of their worship. Their dress, or

rather undress, consisted of a short skirt of dirty, greasy leather,

covered with a heavy embroidery of bright-colored beads. The rest of the

body was ornamented with beads and heavy brass rings, neck, waist, arms,

and ankles being heavily laden. The headdress consisted of a broad band

of beads artistically put together.

Our attention was soon drawn to three women seated on the ground before

one of the huts, each with a large drum made from a hollowed log, over

one end of which was a skin tightly drawn. On this drum they were

beating with their hands and accompanying the sound with low, plaintive

singing. Presently a man, who proved to be the leader, or medium,

stepped out, beating at the same time on a drum made of a broad wooden

hoop, over which was stretched a piece of skin. He was a tall,

athletic-looking fellow, clothed in a short skirt similar to that worn

by the women. He had many yards of blue cloth wrapped about his body and

a yellow scarf thrown over one shoulder. The drum which was beaten with

a stick produced a sharp ringing sound, and he danced with a peculiar

backward step, keeping time to the beating of his drum, and sang,

calling upon the shades. To this the women, beating the drums or

tomtoms, would respond. A number of other men with similar drums joined

him in the dance, and the air was filled with their melody.

This was continued for some time, when all suddenly ceased and

disappeared within a hut and continued their dance within. We were

invited to enter, and after creeping through the low doorway we found

ourselves in a hut about eighteen feet in diameter, with a somewhat

higher roof than is to be found in many native huts. The performance was

similar to that on the outside, except that others joined in the dance,

but all danced alone. The actions and contortions of the body became

more and more rapid and violent, and there was also leaping and jumping,

the heat and violent exertion of the body causing the perspiration to

flow freely.

The medium finally worked himself up into sort of a frenzy and announced

that a spirit had entered the door. With this he pretended to enter into

conversation, but as he spoke in the Shuna language we did not

understand him. The dancers all finally rushed out on the rocks and the

leader fell down exhausted. After their return the same motions were

continued, but a new feature was added by women entering, having

native-made bells tied to their ankles, and these added to the general

din. The motions of all were more or less similar, and even when the

actions and contortions of the body were the most violent, they were

somewhat rhythmical. The noise was deafening in the extreme, and would

have surely waked the dead were such a thing possible. In addition to a

dozen drums and the bells, there were yelling, whistling, and singing. A

huge battle-axe was handed around from one to another, and part of the

time was dangling on the neck of the leader. Sad as one felt at the

delusion under which they labored, he could not but be impressed by

their evident earnestness, and only wished it might be expended in a

better cause.

They did not forget our presence, and no doubt we did interfere with the

freedom of their actions. The medium came toward us several times,

beating his drum. Thinking he might be annoyed at our presence we spoke

to the headman, but he hastened to assure us that we were welcome to

remain. In fact, he as well as many others in the kraal, seemed to be

spectators rather than participants in the worship.

They finally became quiet and the medium again claimed to converse with

the departed, and this time one of our boys interpreted. Of course both

questions and answers were given by the medium. Among other things he

said: "I see a spirit enter the door. It says, 'Who are these white

people? Are they the people who killed the Matabele?' No, they are

missionaries and like the black people." It seemed evident that not only

the spirit but some of the strangers present were somewhat afraid and

needed assurance that we were harmless.

We returned home sad at heart for their heathendom. We were informed

that this worship continued until late in the night and two days

following. There was much beer drinking and immorality, so that even

some of the heathen in the kraal were thoroughly disgusted.

The Matabele do not use drums in their religious dance like the Mashona.

Once when we were out kraal visiting we happened to come upon some of

these worshiping at Fusi's kraal. We stopped only a few minutes to see

what they were doing, and were greatly shocked by the hideousness of

their looks and actions. The very stamp of the bottomless pit seemed

impressed upon their features.

Heathen worship, heathen dances, and hideous rites are becoming less and

less in the vicinity of the mission, for the natives are fast losing

faith in their old religion. The missionaries need a great deal of

patience, forbearance, and firmness in dealing with the perplexing

problems in reference to the natives' beliefs, but in the end God's

cause is sure to win.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Some of the Customs

Custom is so interwoven with and dependent upon religion that it is

almost impossible to dissociate the two, so there is a difference of

opinion as to what constitutes custom and what religion. Whatever the

natives believe or practice has in their estimation been given them by

their god, even to the ornaments of their bodies. As Rev. W. Chapman

says, "The most satisfactory way of changing native customs is by

changing his religion." On the other hand, take away the native's

religion and the restraints which often accompany it, and place him in a

modern city, with its so-called modern civilization, without the

restraining influences of the Christian religion, and a monstrosity of

evil is often the result.

From infancy this inexorable law, custom, assails him. He must not step

aside from the laws of his ancestors or he will suffer the consequences.

If twins are born, they must be put to death. If a child cuts his upper

front teeth first instead of the lower, again death is the penalty. Not

because the mother does not love her child. It is just as dear to her as

the child of Christian parents is to them, and generally no amount of

money will induce her to part with it, but this infant is departing from

the customs followed by its ancestors, and if its precocity leads it

thus early to change the customs, what will it not do as it becomes

older? It is a monstrosity and must be dealt with accordingly.

If the child is a girl, it may at any time after birth be betrothed or

sold to a man for his wife, and a part or all of the pay be given to the

parents to bind the contract. This intended husband may be already

middle-aged or old, with several wives. That is to his credit, because

it frequently means that he is rich or a man of importance in the

community. An old, gray-haired man living near the mission had nine

wives when we arrived on the scene, some of whom were just young girls.

However, one frequently meets with heathen natives who have only one

wife.

The would-be bridegroom sends some one to the father or guardian of the

girl to ask for her hand in marriage. He consults his relatives in

reference to the matter, but even if they disagree, he may give his

consent, for he alone receives the pay. This may be in the form of

cattle, sheep, or goats, or even money in later years, and the amount of

pay the man can or is willing to give had much to do with the father's

consent. Of course the girl has no say in the affair, and may not, until

she is older, know who her intended husband is. If she is small, he

waits until she is about grown before the actual marriage takes place,

but in the meantime she is looked upon as his prospective wife and is

often thoroughly demoralized before marriage.

Before the missionaries or Europeans came to the country, it is doubtful

whether the girl rebelled much as to what disposition was made of her,

for one choice was about the same as another, only so that she might

become a married woman. In their eyes it was almost a disgrace to be

unmarried after they had reached the proper age.

It is said that when the time came for her to be married she would say,

"I am grown and want to marry." At first her people refuse, but finally

they give her a hoe and showing her a piece of raw veldt say, "Show how

you can dig, so that we may see whether you have strength to perform the

work of a wife." She takes the hoe and shows her strength by vigorous

work; for is she not to take the place of oxen or donkeys for her

husband and plow and sow his gardens? This is no exaggeration, for more

than one native has been heard to exclaim, "These are my oxen," pointing

to his wives, the chief difference being that whereas the oxen get some

time to rest and eat, the wife gets little, as she must grind and

prepare the food in the interim of digging.

When the day set for the wedding arrives, a number of girls of about her

own age are called and they have a feast, often of goat, after which

they accompany the bride to the home of the bridegroom, an old woman,

carrying a knife, leading the way. Here they are assigned their places

and various ceremonies. The wedding lasts several days and ends in a

feast, and very often much immorality is connected with it. During a

certain stage of the ceremony the bride runs and hides, not again making

her appearance until she is found by the others.

So-called marriages sometimes take place without any pay being given for

the wife, but in such instances the children do not belong to or are

not under the control of their parents; they belong to the father or

guardian of the wife, as she has not been paid for. It may thus be seen

that the giving of pay is not an unmitigated evil, as it leaves the

children in the hands of their natural guardians, the parents. With the

wife the pay is merely changing her from the ownership of her father to

that of her husband, and if she should leave her husband, the pay or

part of it must be returned to him.

It frequently happens that a man takes a wife according to native

marriage without paying for her, and afterwards, if he desires to retain

her or her children, he pays the father for her. A native in the

vicinity of Matopo had, in this manner, taken five wives, at various

times, without paying for any of them. When some of his children became

of an age that his wives' parents desired to take them, he took steps to

secure them by paying for his wives. One, however, whom he did not like,

he drove away without paying for her. These things show that the

marriage vow is exceedingly loose and leads to much immorality. Several

years after we came to Matopo Hills a law was passed by the British

Government, allowing the girls some freedom of choice in regard to the

marriage question, and it is now possible for Christian girls to choose

Christian husbands.

A man will have a hut for himself and one for each of his wives, and the

more wives he has, the greater his importance in the community. I think

that it is safe to say that an old heathen's ambition is to have many

wives, each with her hut, about him, many sons, who too, with their

wives, add to the number of huts, and many daughters, that he may sell

them for cattle or sheep and thus increase his flocks and herds. He also

likes to have nephews, younger brothers, and other relatives with their

wives come to him and swell the number of huts. This makes a large

number of huts, large herds, and he becomes an important headman; or if

his followers increase sufficiently he may become a chief. These huts,

built near together and often enclosed with a fence, are what constitute

a kraal. This is a Dutch word and applies only to native villages, but

there may be only three or four huts and it still be called a kraal.

Their huts are built of poles and mud, much as described in the making

of our own, except that the huts of the raw natives are much lower,

without windows and with a doorway only about three feet in height.

Sometimes no poles are used in the construction of the walls, but they

are moulded of earth from the bottom up and are well made. The floor is

made of ant-hill earth, well pounded. This is then covered with a thin

coat of black earth and polished with stones until it looks not unlike a

nicely-polished wooden floor. The Matabele build much better huts than

some of the subject tribes; these latter are good farmers, but often

have most miserable-looking huts.

[Illustration: Matabele Kraal near Matopo Mission.]

There is no furniture proper in the huts. The bed consists of a mat or

hide spread on the floor at night. During the day this, together with

the blankets, is rolled up and tied to the roof of the hut. The pillow

is made from a block of wood, and there are no chairs, a small mat

answering for this purpose. They have earthen pots for cooking and

brewing beer and for various purposes. They have many kinds of

nicely-woven baskets, and gourds for carrying and dipping water as well

as for drinking vessels. There are also the necessary stamping block and

a large flat stone on which the grain is ground. The wash basin is the

mouth. The mouth is filled with water, which is allowed to run in a thin

stream on the hands until they are washed, and then the hands are filled

in the same way to wash the face. I was greatly interested once in the

operation of bathing twins. This mother had sufficient light to keep her

from killing her babies because there were two of them. She spread a

blanket on a large rock in the sun. Then she took a gourd of water and

filled her mouth. (It is surprising how much water they can hold in the

mouth; practice aids greatly in this, no doubt.) She kept the water in

her mouth a short time to take off the chill, then picked up one child,

held it out and, with a thin stream of water pouring from her mouth,

washed the entire body of the child thoroughly. After this ablution she

laid it on the blanket in the sun to dry. She again filled her mouth and

taking the other baby repeated the process and also placed it on the

blanket. The children were evidently accustomed to such baths; for they

took it all quietly, and perhaps enjoyed it as much as a white child in

a bath tub of warm water.

Polygamy is not necessarily opposed among some of the heathen women.

They will frequently tell you, "I like my husband to have more than one

wife; then I do not need to work so hard." It is, however, a source of

much dissension and rivalry among them and a cause of much favoritism

among the children. One day Gomo was reading the story of Joseph and

Benjamin. He exclaimed, "That is just like our people. The children of

the favorite wife are loved more by the father." Of course polygamy is

one great drawback to the introduction of christianity, but we believe

that it has had its day and that in many places it is becoming less in

practice. Each wife cooks of her own food for the husband and places it

before him. He, with older boys, eats what he desires and leaves the

balance, if there be any, for the wife and her children. If he has many

wives a number of dishes are often placed before him during the day, and

he can eat that which he prefers. Or, if there are several men in the

kraal, they often all eat from one dish, and from each dish as it is

brought to them by the various wives, while the mother and daughters eat

from a separate dish.

Their chief occupation is farming, and they grow corn, kafir corn,

millet, sweet potatoes, peanuts, ground peas, melons, citrons, and

pumpkins. They generally hull the grain and then stamp or grind it into

a very fine meal or flour. This they put into boiling water and make a

very stiff porridge, or mush. Their favorite food seems to be this

porridge, eaten with meat into the broth of which ground peanuts have

been cooked. They generally have chickens, sheep, goats, or cattle, and

often hunt or trap game. Their usual way of eating is to allow the food

to cool a little and then dip the two front fingers into the porridge,

take a little and dip it into the gravy and then put it into their

mouth. They also greatly relish green corn, eaten from the cob or cut

off and ground on the millstones. This milky meal is then made into a

loaf and placed into a kettle and thoroughly steamed. This is their best

substitute for bread, and in its season it is considered their most

dainty dish, and with a little salt it is quite palatable, especially if

not much grit has combined with it in the process of preparation.

The African is fond of his beer, which also is made by the wives. For

this purpose they use any of the grains grown by them, but they prefer

kafir corn or millet. This is moistened and put in a warm place until it

sprouts. It is then ground or stamped and the meal is cooked into a thin

porridge and put into large earthen pots, where more water is added,

also the yeast or dregs of a previous brewing. It is then allowed to

stand in a warm place and ferment, and before drinking it is usually

strained through a loose bag of their own weaving. The native will tell

you that their god showed them how to make the beer, and I have no doubt

but that he did.

It is needless to say that it intoxicates and is the cause of frequent

brawls and fights among them, and it is not unusual for the missionaries

to be called upon to help settle some of these disturbances. It is less

difficult to convince the Africans of the evil effects of its use than

it is some Europeans. The latter will often tell you that the native

thrives and works better if allowed his beer. Missionaries are not

wanting who think it is best not to interfere with their native

Christians having their beer. Our missionaries, however, have no

difficulty in inducing the Christians to discard the use of it, and we

believe the sentiment against it is increasing among the missionaries in

general. In a native Conference held at Matopo Mission in February,

1914, the question of native beer came up. Of course all were opposed to

members drinking it, but the question was in regard to the Christian

girls, who were minors, assisting in the making of it, since they are

under the jurisdiction of their heathen parents. The older native

Christians were in favor of more stringent measures than even the

missionaries.

In order to show what an enlightened Christian native can and will do if

he has the power we need only refer to the work of King Khama. He is the

King of Bechuanaland, the country just west of Southern Rhodesia. His

father was a heathen king and a sorcerer, but Khama embraced

Christianity in his youth, and in the midst of most bitter persecutions

from his own father and others, he stood true. The people finally

recognizing his ability chose him king in place of his father in 1872.

Then his difficulties began in another line. If he was to be the chief

of the country, it must be founded on the principles of the Gospel. All

imported liquor was prohibited from crossing the border, nor was native

beer allowed to be made.

[Illustration: Matabele Women Stamping Grain.]

It was a fierce battle with some of the natives themselves, for they

were not all Christians and did not readily yield. This domestic

trouble, however, was nothing compared with the battle he had to wage

with unprincipled white traders and even with government officials, for

the country was under the protection of England, and they had some voice

in the management of affairs. But Khama won the day in such a struggle

as would have dismayed many a stouter heart. According to Mr. J. H.

Hepburn, Khama wrote to the British Administration as follows: "I dread

the white man's drink more than the assegais of the Matabele which kill

men's bodies and is quickly over; but drink puts devils into men and

destroys their souls and bodies forever. Its wounds never heal. I pray

your Honor never to ask me to open even a little door to drink." Words

worthy of a native Christian hero, indeed; a hero that could not be

bought, that could not be bribed or frightened by the liquor men.

The Government of Rhodesia is rather favorable toward native beer, yet

we owe it much for prohibiting imported liquor sold to natives within

its territory. Perhaps (who knows?) Khama's firm stand in his own

territory may have been an influence in keeping Rhodesian natives from

securing imported liquor.

Mention was made before that the native way of getting work done is to

make a quantity of beer and invite their neighbors. They do this in

digging and preparing the ground for sowing, in weeding, in cultivating,

and in threshing. While a little beer is given during the work, the

greater part is kept back until the work is completed, perhaps as an

inducement for them to persevere unto the end. If then one, in

evangelistic work, comes upon such a company early in the day, they are

not much the worse for drink and will often listen attentively.

Once Sister Steigerwald and I came to a place where a large company were

busy weeding. They had a large garden to weed and did not greatly

desire to stop for service, but we promised not to keep them long, so

they gathered under the shade of a tree. On opening our Bible our eye

fell on the "Parable of the Tares," which seemed quite suitable for the

occasion. They listened most attentively to the short talk, and as

illustrations taken from their gardens and work always seemed better

understood and appreciated, we made use of such entirely in the

application. After singing and prayer we told them they might return to

their work. We sat still and watched them awhile, and as they worked and

pulled out the weeds, we could hear them talking to one another and

saying, "Yes, the bad things Satan sows in our hearts are just like

these weeds, and they need to be rooted out or they will destroy us."

On another occasion, one Sunday morning, there were no natives from one

of the large kraals present at the services, and we felt to pay them a

visit. Ganukisa and some of the boys accompanying, we went to the place

in the afternoon to hold service. We always tried to impress upon the

people that they should not work on Sunday, and many were heeding, so on

this occasion we were surprised to find about seventy-five of them

having a digging. As we drew near, they had just finished the work and

were about to surround the huge beer pots for a "good time." We knew by

the time they had consumed all that beer they would scarcely be in a

condition to receive the Gospel. What should we do? We never like to ask

the natives to do anything unless there is some probability of its

being carried out, for one is likely to lose influence over them. Could

they be persuaded to leave their beer pots and let us talk to them

first? We could not make them do it, but God could, so looking to Him we

said,

"Leave the beer and come out under the shade of the trees while we talk

to you."

"Oh, no," they replied, "let us drink the beer first and then we will

come."

We knew that if they did their drinking first some of them would not

stay for the service, so again, with somewhat more authority, I repeated

the request, and at the same time, together with the Christian natives

who accompanied, moved toward the shade. It was almost more than we

expected, but the Lord moved upon their hearts to leave the beer

untouched, and come to listen. The Lord especially anointed some of our

native Christians for the service and they gave forth the Word with

power. One of them referred very strongly to their desecration of the

Sabbath. At first they sought to justify themselves, but as the truth

was pressed home to them they said they would never do it again. At the

close a number of the older men for the first time in their lives prayed

and pleaded for pardon. The old women who had invited them to work

seemed especially concerned and promised not to repeat it on Sunday.

When they thresh they also invite a lot of their neighbors. They place

the grain on a large flat rock and then strike it with a straight stick.

Once I was present when a large number of the Amahole, or subject

tribes, were threshing. They were decked out with all their ornaments,

and being divided into two sides were placed opposite to one another,

like two opposing forces in battle array. Each being armed with his

threshing stick, they performed a mimic battle with the grain lying on

the rock between the two lines of battle, each one alternately driving

the other before it and at the same time beating the grain with their

sticks. They also sang their war song, of how the Matabele overcame them

and impaled them alive, and of the dire vengeance they would inflict in

return. The interlude would be occupied by a sort of ballet dancer among

them. The whole was exceedingly heathenish, but not uninteresting; and

as for the grain, a large amount of it was threshed.

While much of the work falls to the women, some of the native men are

quite diligent in digging in their gardens; but they generally wish to

sell their grain and secure money to pay taxes for themselves and their

wives. The women, in addition to growing most of the food that is eaten,

often help to furnish the tax money. Of course to the raw native dress

is a negligible quantity.

The people are always generous, and the food in the kraals is shared

with the strangers. No one needs to go through the country hungry unless

there is famine, and even then they will often divide the last morsel.

When the stranger comes among them, they always bid him welcome, and it

is etiquette to let him remain for at least one day without asking him

any questions as to his business among them.

Even in respect to continually begging, which is so obnoxious to

Europeans, the native is not so rude as it would appear. They are not

slow to ask one another, and they have often surprised me by saying that

they felt flattered to be asked for articles, as it showed that they had

something which the other did not have and they had an opportunity to

help. A native likes to have plenty, but he does not want to have his

gardens surpass too much those of his neighbors, in productiveness;

neither does he want his herds to surpass others too much, for fear he

may be an object of envy to those around him and a victim of malice, or

be accused of witchcraft.

There always seems to be a great attachment between the mother and her

children all through life. This does not hinder the big, stout boy,

however, from lying around and living on the bounty of his hard-working

mother, and on the other hand the heathen boy will often exert himself

to aid his mother and pay her hut tax, and she often lives with her son

when she becomes old.

The native women generally shave their heads with a piece of sharp

glass. It is a laborious and painful process and needs to be done by an

expert, but in the end it is well done. The married woman always leaves

a small tuft of hair on the crown of her head. This is her sign of

wifehood. The raw native has no means of keeping record of his age, so

we must always guess at it.

[Illustration: Matabele Women Digging.]

The government is patriarchal and the younger are generally respectful

to the elders, and all are more or less polite to one another. Their

very name implies this. The surname is handed down from father to child,

even the wife retaining that of her father unless she is married by

Christian marriage. The surname is also the _isibongo_, or thank word.

By that I mean that it is what they say if they wish to thank for any

favor. Among themselves they do not say "I thank you" for any favor

received. Suppose Muza Sibanda would give another one something. The

recipient on receiving it would say "Sibanda" instead of "I thank you."

Again, in addressing another, if one wishes to be polite or respectful

he will use the last, not the first name, or he may say "Father,"

"Mother," or the like. I at first thought them somewhat rude in not

thanking properly, but soon found that it was often the result of not

knowing what to say. One day I gave a piece of bread to a little fellow

about five years of age. He hesitated, then looking up into my face,

said, "_Isibongo sako sipi?_" ("What is your thank name?") If a native

is given anything, all the others present will join in thanking, for a

favor to one is a favor to all. The mother will often use the thank

name, or surname, as a term of endearment to her child. After she has a

child she is no longer known by her name, but if the child is Luju she

is known as the "mother of Luju."

If one falls or meets with an accident, however slight, all the rest

will say "_Pepa_" ("Beg pardon"). If one enters the kraal of another, he

enters the hut and sits down near the door without saying anything.

Presently he says "_Eh! kuhle_" ("Peace"), about equivalent to saying,

"Peace be to this house." It is not a salutation, but a polite way of

announcing his presence. The occupant of the hut then responds by

saying, "_Eh! sa ku bona_" ("We see you"). In reality, however, it is

equivalent to saying "How do you do?" to which the other responds.

It is a real treat to hear two old natives conversing together,

especially if they are unconscious of one's presence. Their gossip may

not be very elevating, but it is always carried on in a polite and

interesting manner. The Tebele language is most beautiful and

expressive, as its liquid syllables roll off the native tongue, and it

is always most correctly spoken--no errors in grammar among them.

This would not be complete without mention being made of death and

burial. In burial the various tribes differ somewhat among themselves.

Among the Matabele, when one dies the friends come and prepare the body

for burial by placing it in a sitting posture with the knees brought up

near the face. They clothe it in the garments which it owned, and wrap

the blanket about it, tying the body firmly in this position with the

face exposed. It is then left sitting in the hut, together with some of

the women mourners, while the men go and select a place for burial,

generally at a little distance from the kraal, unless the deceased

should be headman. They make the grave more or less circular in form,

and near the bottom a slight excavation is made in the side for the

reception of the body.

The body is then placed on a blanket or large hide and carried out to

the grave, the friends following and mourning. A gourd filled with fresh

water is brought, and with this a near friend or relative washes the

face of the dead, at the same time giving it a message to kindly

remember them to the king and to speak a good word for them. The two men

standing in the grave receive the body and place it in the excavation

with the face toward the east. They fasten it in position with stones

and then fill in the grave with earth. On top of the grave are placed

stones and the property of the deceased, together with branches of

trees, perhaps to protect it from the wild beasts, for the grave is

somewhat shallow.

As children do not have any garments which they can call their own, they

are often buried without anything being wrapped about the body. Once,

when a little son of Mapita died, Sister Doner and I went over to the

burial. The little body was lowered into the grave quite bare and they

were about to put in the earth. Sister Doner could not stand that, so

she hastily removed a large apron which she had on and told them to

wrap that around the little body before throwing in the earth. They did

so, but no doubt would have preferred keeping it for themselves before

it had been defiled by coming into contact with the dead body. When

Kelenki, one of our Christian boys, died in his home, they wanted to

know what to do with his books, and one of the other Christian boys said

he thought they had better leave them for the living.

After burial they all go to the river and wash, for death means

defilement. The women are the chief mourners, and they assemble early in

the morning, fill the air with their wailing and then return home until

the following morning. This is often done for four consecutive mornings.

In the interim the relatives sit about the kraal, quiet and with little

talking, except to answer the condolences of their friends, who come

from time to time to sympathize with them. There is no feast, as among

some natives. In fact, for a time little food is cooked or eaten except

that brought by neighbors.

Some of the other tribes lay the body down in burial, and often place it

in the crevices of the rocks. If the deceased is headman of the kraal,

he is generally buried in the enclosure and often inside his own hut,

and the people usually remain there for a year and then, after a period

of worship, the kraal is abandoned. The wives go to be the wives of the

brother of the deceased, unless they be old, when they usually live with

a son or daughter.

About fifteen miles from the mission, in the direction of Bulawayo, is

the grave of the first king, Umzilikazi. It is in a large kopje, between

some immense boulders. On the top of the grave, or in the immediate

vicinity--since one cannot point out the exact spot of the body--are

many wagon loads of rock thrown in to fill up the cavity between the

boulders. There are also wheels and the remains of broken wagons and

other property once owned by the king, and probably bought from the

white men in his emigration from Zululand to this country. I cannot give

the exact date of this king's death, but it was at least more than fifty

years ago. As he was considered the god of the Matabele, this grave was

often no doubt a place of worship by the tribe, but we have no knowledge

that it has been worshiped in late years. Perhaps it somewhat fell into

disuse after Umlimo, the god of the Makalanga, was considered so

powerful.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Later Visits

The missionary stands to the native for religion and education, for all

the help he may get to make his life cleaner, more moral, and more in

keeping with ideals of the white man at his best.--M. S. Evans.

In the year 1910 it was my privilege, on returning from a furlough to

Natal, to again visit Matopo, after an absence of nearly four years.

Bishop and Mrs. Steigerwald were at that time in America on furlough,

and Brother Doner and his wife, who was formerly Sister Sallie Kreider,

and Sister Mary Heise were in charge of Matopo Mission. When I reached

Bulawayo I found Brother Doner waiting to convey me to the mission. It

was indeed a pleasure again to visit the place and to look into the

faces of those natives who had grown very dear by reason of my long stay

among them. Here it was my privilege to come into contact, for the first

time, with raw heathendom, and to have the joy of seeing light enter

darkened minds and souls born into the Kingdom. So it occupies a tender

spot which later experiences cannot touch.

There had been improvements made since I had left. Prominent among these

were two substantial brick buildings, a house for the boys and one for

the girls, and there were thirty-three boys occupying the one and three

girls the other. There is a nice little band of believers at this

place, some of whom I wish especially to mention. First is poor old

blind Ngiga. Shortly after Elder Engle's death we found him at a kraal,

destitute and afflicted, with no one seemingly to care for him and give

him food. We carried or sent food to him for a time, and gave him a

blanket, and he gradually gained strength. Thinking that exercise would

do him good, Brother Lehman encouraged him to come to the mission for

his food, as he was only a short distance away. He had lain for so long

without exercising his body that at first it was with great difficulty

that he reached the mission, but being supplied with food, he grew

stronger and was enabled to walk the distance easily and to help himself

a little. Some time after Elder Steigerwald came he treated him for his

disease and built a hut and brought him to the mission to stay, as the

loathsome disease with which he was afflicted had left him about blind.

He, however, was converted and has been received into the Church. It is

a pleasure to hear him now testify to Christ's saving power, and to

praise the Lord for bringing the missionaries. Truly, the Lord is no

Respecter of persons.

Again, let us go to Buka's house. My readers will remember Buka, whom

Sister Heise and I found upon the rocks eleven years before when we went

in search of little Lomazwana. Yes, it is really he whose life and home

looked so black to us that day. He moved to within about three miles of

the mission, and his son Kolisa came to stay at the mission and go to

school. The father became sick and Brother and Sister Doner visited him

and ministered unto him. Then they built him a hut and made him more

comfortable. He finally became a paralytic and unable to help himself,

so Brother Steigerwald assisted them to get a home on the mission

premises, and gave them gardens, so that they are now quite comfortable.

The oldest daughter also accepted Christ, then the mother followed, and

these two with the son are now members of the Church.

My first Sunday at Matopo, in company with Brother and Sister Doner, I

visited this home. A smile of recognition at once lighted up the face of

the invalid father; and though he could not speak, the family

interpreted the sounds he made. After he had expressed his welcome he

said that though his body and speech were paralyzed, yet his heart was

all right. During another visit he tried to explain how Jesus was

dwelling within, and how glad he was that when he got "over there" he

would not be sick. One could not help feeling that he had learned to

know the Lord. Truly, affliction had proved a blessing to him.

[Illustration: Building the Boys' House at Matopo, M. S.]

[Illustration: Boys' Brick House at Matopo Mission.]

There was a good school at Matopo, with Sister Heise and Matshuba as

teachers. Brother Doners were very busy overseeing this work, as well as

their own station at Mapani Mission, and they kindly took me to that

place to see something of the work there. Nyamazana had had charge of

the mission at Mapani for about six months and was doing good work,

especially spiritually. He is Spirit-filled and alive to the

responsibility resting upon him. He had charge of the Inquirers' Class

and Sunday services, and the natives say that he preaches powerful

sermons. He has a nice Christian wife, who is a help to him. There is a

company of earnest believers at this place. Brother Doner erected a

large brick church and a brick dwelling-house, which added greatly to

the appearance and comfort of the work, and he deserves much credit for

the work accomplished alone and single-handed in building.

The first Friday in each month has been set apart by the missionaries in

Africa as a day of prayer and fasting. On the Prayer Day in May of that

year we were permitted to meet with the believers at Mapani Mission.

Over seventy were assembled. They included the members of the Church

here and those of the Inquirers' Class. We had a most precious waiting

on the Lord and heard many soul-stirring prayers and testimonies. Many

seemed to be reaching out for a greater fulness of the Spirit, while

others were overflowing with the joy of the Lord. The work was most

encouraging and the members steadfast, and the Lord had been pouring out

His Spirit upon some of them in a marvelous manner, and our hearts were

made to rejoice with them.

We also spent a few days visiting some of the people and the schools

taught by Brethren Nkwidini, Mlobeka, and Nyamazana. All three of these

teachers were our former pupils and had been converted at Matopo.

Brother and Sister Doner then took me to Mtyabezi Mission, after which

they returned to Matopo. Mtyabezi is the mission station of Brother and

Sister Frey, and a little over a year after it was opened Miss

Elizabeth Engle also came to help in it. This was my first visit at the

station, and I was made to rejoice at what the Lord was doing at this

place. The buildings are pleasantly located at the foot of an immense

kopje, which towers high above them in the background. A neat-looking

brick church had been erected by Brother Frey, and well-built huts in

which they were living at the time.

[Illustration: A Native Christian's Home. Matshuba's.]

Sister Frey had been doing the teaching, but at the time of my visit,

Bunu, one of their pupils and converts, was teaching and doing excellent

work. On Thursday Sisters Frey and Engle and myself went in the wagon to

visit some members about eight miles distant, where we met with a warm

reception among those who were Christians. At one place there was a

Christian woman about sixty years of age, who seemed so happy in the

Lord and so eager to make us welcome and comfortable during our stay.

We were surprised to find in one of the kraals a native dressmaker who

owned a sewing machine and had all the sewing she could do for her

dark-skinned neighbors. The sisters have been teaching their girls and

women to sew.

In the evening about thirty natives, most of whom were believers,

gathered around our campfire to hold service. We spoke for a time, and

then a number gave a clear testimony to the saving power of Christ. We

had to contrast this little company with some other gatherings which we

have seen and heard in the hours of night in darkest Africa, where beer,

the dance, licentiousness, and all forms of devil worship made night

hideous. One can best understand what the Gospel message is doing for

the people, if he first sees something of paganism.

On Sunday at the mission there was a very impressive time, and when the

altar call was given a number came forward. There were truly penitent

hearts, among whom were a number of young men seeking to get right with

God; also some girls and married people. Here was a woman whose husband

had two wives, and she was much persecuted at home, but she wanted to

follow the Lord, and piteously, in the midst of her sobs, she inquired

what she should do. Then a Magdalene confessed that she had fallen into

grievous sin, and like the one of old came with bitter tears to the feet

of Jesus. Another's way was made hard on account of the unfaithfulness

of her husband, and so on. But the one whose experience seemed the most

touching was a woman of nearly sixty years. Her married daughter, who

is a Christian, had been much in prayer for her mother, and so the woman

came and with utter abandonment, seemingly, threw herself at the feet of

Jesus, weeping and confessing her sins and saying, "I am a dog. Pick me

up, Lord."

At the opening of 1913 we were permitted to make another visit to the

missions in this vicinity. This vacation was to be only a month, and as

I had in the meantime been cut off from association with white people,

except those at the mission, I concluded to spend the first few days in

Bulawayo. The place had grown since we reached it, nearly fifteen years

before, and although the growth had not been so rapid it was of an

enduring, steady kind. The place is laid out on broad lines, with broad

streets and roomy dwellings--no need for skyscrapers here. There are

many fine, substantial-looking business blocks, and as one goes into the

suburbs he sees many elegant, well-built dwelling-houses. There are fine

churches, a good hospital, museum, and library, and two large government

school buildings, each with a good dormitory attached. One of these is

for boys and the other, which is on the opposite side of the town, is

for girls. Here, as in all parts of South Africa, there is some

industrial work in connection with the schools. Bulawayo has also many

excellent stores and shops, so that one may purchase almost anything

required, not only in the line of provisions, household goods, and

clothing, but all lines of farming implements and many kinds of

machinery. The heavy wagons, drawn by great rows of oxen, donkeys, and

mules, are still to be seen, but there are also many dainty one-horse

traps, as well as two-horse conveyances, and a large number of

automobiles and motorcycles.

There is attached to the town a large native location, for the heavy

part of the work as well as the housework is about all done by native

boys. They are all called "boys." In the eyes of their white employers

the native seldom becomes a man. He may be an old boy or a young boy, a

little boy or a big boy, but he is always a boy. On the other hand, in

the eyes of many Europeans it is almost an insult to speak of their

children as boys. In the early days one of the missionaries, in speaking

to an old European lady, said something about her boy. She straightened

herself proudly and with emphasis said, "My son." At the mission one day

a native woman was begging very hard for a piece of cloth, and to

strengthen her request she said, "I am your boy," evidently meaning that

she belonged to me.

[Illustration: Mtshabezi Church and School.]

[Illustration: Mtshabezi Mission in 1910.]

Although Bulawayo is the largest town in Southern Rhodesia, there are

others, such as Salisbury, Gwelo, Victoria, and Gwanda, which deserve

mention. Farmers are scattered throughout the country, especially along

the high, rolling plain between Bulawayo and Salisbury. There are many

valuable gold mines and many old gold workings to be found in various

places. The most noted is Great Zimbabwe, near Victoria. It is said:

"The ruins cover a large area, and on an eminence are the remains of a

fortress, the walls of which are thirty feet high and ten feet thick,

and built of cut stones put together without mortar, so closely-fitting

that a knife can hardly be inserted between them. Smelting crucibles,

with gold in them, ingot moulds, and spears have been found." Some think

that the Sabeans from Arabia worked these about 3,000 years ago. This is

thought by some to be the "gold of Ophir." Ruins on a smaller scale are

to be found in various places. Not far from Mapani Mission we saw a

circular wall made of wedge-shaped stones, nicely fitted together. The

country is also rich in iron ore, and at Wankie is the great coal-mining

district. All these places furnish abundant work for all the natives of

Rhodesia, and are also centers for mission work.

January 1, I was again taken to Motopo Mission, not with the slow,

patient donkeys of fifteen years ago, but with the swifter mules. Many

changes have taken place among the natives surrounding the mission since

1898. On our first entering this valley the natives had just fled and

hid themselves away in these rocks at the close of the Rebellion. They

were then very poor, without flocks and herds, and had few gardens, and

very little of the land had ever been brought under cultivation. Since

then the natives have gradually come out of their hiding-places and

settled down to their work. Under the influence of peace and better

teaching their surroundings have greatly changed. There are more natives

near the mission than at first, and they have sheep, goats, and cattle,

and some of them have plows and oxen to draw them, so that they can plow

their large gardens. Every available place near the mission has been

brought under cultivation, but not in the old, laborious way with human

oxen, so that the wives are not the slaves they once were. Of course,

in the absence of the men at work the women often hold the plow, but

they have more time to keep house. One of the officials affirms that the

best way of doing away with polygamy is by introducing civilized ways of

farming.

The people began by bringing their oxen to Brother Steigerwald to be

trained, and then he helped them to procure plows, and they still come

to him for help in trouble. The 3,000-acre farm is far too small for all

who desire to live near the mission. If he had twice the amount of land

it would soon become filled with natives, who would thus be near the

mission and under the influence of the Gospel.

Let us visit some of the houses and see what changes have taken place.

Here first is the home of Matshuba. As he was first in the fold, he is

worthy of first notice. He lives in a small, neatly-built brick house,

with a well-swept yard inclosed by a fence. Inside the house are

homemade bedsteads, chairs and tables, and here is Matshuba the same as

of yore. He is older and has fought many battles since that first day

when, as a little boy, he came and watched the newcomers. He has found

the conflict severe and almost overpowering at times. It has left some

scars, but, praise God! he has come off victorious at last, and in a

more humble spirit he is following the meek and lowly Savior. He is

Elder Steigerwald's right-hand man and is capable of turning his hand to

almost any kind of work. He can take the blacksmith tools and mend the

large three-disc plow; he can make use of the small engine and grind the

meal for the native food, or do any other kind of work about the place.

Best of all, he can go out and tell the people about Jesus. He had hoped

that the elder's many-sided ability might be his, and he seems to have

had his wish. He could secure much larger pay as an engineer in the

mines, but he feels that his place is in the Lord's work. May he have

our prayers that he may always find God's grace sufficient.

[Illustration: Mtshabezi--Baptismal Scene.]

Here too is his wife, Makiwa. She was also educated at Matopo Mission,

where she learned not only in school, but also in the kitchen and

sewing-room, that she might know how to take care of her home and

family. A faithful helpmate she has been to her husband and a blessing

in the Church. Here are their little boy and girl, whom they are

bringing up in the fear of the Lord. This old woman, also neatly

dressed, is Matshuba's mother, long a slave to her old religion, her

superstitious ideas, her beer and her tobacco. Now she has accepted

Christ as her Savior and He has cleansed her and she is in the Church.

And this bright-looking girl is her daughter, Sixpence. She was only

about four or five years old when we came to Matopo. Now she is a tall,

fine-looking Christian woman and well taught. She has on a neat-looking

black dress which, Sister Steigerwald tells me, she cut and sewed

without any help from the missionaries. Yes, this is a Christian home,

from which we hope and pray that the evils of heathendom have flown

forever.

There are others. First is Anyana, long a faithful helper of the

mission, and his wife, Citiwa, also one of our girls. Then comes Siyaya,

who had some falls, but he has at last got his feet on the Rock and is

helping to tell others of Christ. Mahlenhle is also here. He is the same

faithful boy as of old, one of those who never give their missionary any

uneasiness. He is always ready and willing to do what he can, which is

not a little. He teaches, he preaches, and interprets for others, or he

can go out and handle the oxen and see to the farming. There are also

many new ones in church and school, several of whom are assisting in

teaching. There are forty-two boys staying at the mission for school,

and a number coming to day-school. Sister Heise has plenty to do, for

she teaches both early morning and midday, and is doing excellent work.

There are about 150 regular attendants at the Sunday services. The

majority of them are young men and women and children. Almost all are

respectably clothed and are seeking to know the Lord. The girls who

desire to stay at the missionaries' and be trained are now sent to the

Girls' School at Mtyabezi Mission. There is a large sewing class at this

place for those who wish to learn. Two new missionaries, Brother Levi

Steckly and Sister Cora Alvis, are also assisting in the work at Matopo.

I went out among the people, eager to secure a snapshot of a kraal, as

they formerly were, but I failed. They are all better built and more

cleanly than formerly. In every village there are some who wear European

clothing, for even if they have not accepted Christ as their Savior,

some have put on the garments of civilization. There are, of course,

many among the older ones who have not changed much, and who have always

hardened their hearts and stiffened their necks against the truth. This

has been the condition of the world ever since the Fall, and it will no

doubt continue until all sin and wickedness shall be put under foot and

He shall reign in righteousness. If the command had been "Go into all

the world and make disciples of every creature," missionaries would have

given up long ago in despair. Miss Carmichael, in her work, "Things as

They Are in Missionary Work in Southern India," says, "It is required in

a steward that a man be found faithful. Praise God! it does not say

'successful.'" The same will apply to missionary work in Africa.

During the year of our visit the rains were unusually late, and, as the

harvest had been quite light the previous year, some of the people were

in great need of grain. Brother Steigerwald was doing all in his power

to get grain out from Bulawayo for them. The six mules were hauling out

every week to the extent of their strength, for farmers are not allowed

to take their oxen on the road, for fear disease may spread among the

cattle. As the wagon returned from Bulawayo with fifteen 200-pound bags

of grain on it, the people, who had been watching for its return,

hastened to come to the mission to purchase. Grain was expensive, about

seven or eight dollars a bag; but as soon as it was unloaded it was

sold. Their people must have food, and many of the able-bodied natives

had been away to work and thus procured money, and perhaps a month's

wages would buy one bag of grain. Others were trying to sell some of the

cattle and sheep for grain. Although many of these old people who were

buying had not accepted Christ as their Savior, yet they have absolute

confidence in His messenger, Elder Steigerwald, and they come to him in

their difficulties, knowing that he has a kind heart. He is their

father, as Sister Steigerwald is their mother.

A love feast had been announced for Mtyabezi Mission the middle of

January, and arrangements had been made for all the white workers and as

many of the native converts as possible to attend. Mr. Steckly and Mr.

Hemming went across the hills, twenty-five miles, on foot, and the rest

of us went by wagon around on the road--a distance of about forty-five

miles. This road was down through the hills in the direction of Mapani

Mission. We started on Thursday morning, sleeping out on the veldt

during the night, and reached Mtyabezi on Friday afternoon.

Brother Freys were at that time in America on furlough, but the work was

ably carried on by Brother Walter Winger and his wife, formerly Abbie

Bert, and Sister Elizabeth Engle. This is now known as our Girls'

School. Twenty-five girls were then staying at the mission, and they are

being trained in housework and sewing, in addition to school and outside

work. They are also supplying some of our Christian boys with Christian

wives, and Christian marriage is taking the place of heathen rites. In

addition to these there was a good-sized day-school, which was under the

excellent management of Miss Sadie Book. There were also several large

out-schools in connection with this mission. A large brick house was

nearly completed and they were at the same time living in it. This part

of the country south of the hills was especially suffering from drought

at this time. Although this was in the middle of what should have been

the rainy season, yet no rains had fallen, and the entire country was

bare, not a blade of grass was to be seen, and the grain sown had not

yet sprouted. Brother Winger was busy with his wagon, getting grain out

from the station ten miles away to help the people.

This was the first love feast in Southern Rhodesia that I had been

permitted to attend for nearly seven years, and I had looked eagerly

forward to this gathering. The joy of seeing the natives assemble for

the occasion was too deep for words. First to come were some of the

communicants from Matopo Mission on Friday evening. The sisters were

walking in front, Indian file, with their blankets and Sunday clothing

tied up in a bundle and carried on their heads, and Sixpence leading the

way. Following these were the brethren, with Matshuba bringing up the

rear. It was now sundown and they had walked twenty-five miles and were

tired, so they were shown their places for the night, and after eating

their supper, and prayer, they retired. The next morning early a similar

crowd came from Mapani Station, fifteen miles distant. A number also

gathered from the vicinity of Mtyabezi and out-schools on Saturday

morning. The little church could not hold all and an overflow meeting

was held on the outside. There were also a number of members who could

not be present.

Saturday morning was devoted to a short discourse and self-examination

meeting, followed by testimonies. It was an inspiration to look over the

crowded house and listen to the earnest testimonies following one after

another in rapid succession. Often four or five would be on their feet

at once, and yet there was no confusion or disorder, as each one quietly

waited for his time to speak. We had to say to ourselves, again and

again, "What hath God wrought!" We could not avoid contrasting the early

days of nakedness and midnight heathendom with this enlightened,

well-dressed company before us. In fact, the contrast was so marked that

one could scarcely bridge the chasm even in imagination.

[Illustration: Girls at Mtshabezi Mission.]

In the afternoon seventeen from Mtyabezi Mission and its out-schools

were received into the Church by the right hand of fellowship. On

account of the drought and lack of water in the streams, the baptism was

deferred until a later date. There were several others who made

application, but after examination it was thought that some were not

ready. On Saturday evening the natives had a meeting of their own and

were addressed by Myamazana, while the missionaries had an English

service and were addressed by Bishop Steigerwald.

On Sunday morning we again gathered to observe the ordinance of

feet-washing and to commemorate the sufferings and death of our Savior.

There were over 300 natives gathered together, nearly all of whom were

either members or inquirers. The native communicants were 129 and the

white ones eleven, making 140 in all, and these assembled in the Church

while the rest were addressed by Mahlenhle and others on the outside. We

had now a better opportunity of looking into the faces of those who had

been received into Church fellowship. As our missionaries are in close

touch with their people and know pretty well their private lives, we

knew something of the company before us.

It was indeed an intelligent and respectable-looking company of men and

women, one to be proud of, if I might use the term. Its respectability

did not depend so much on the fact that they had thrown off the undress

of paganism and had donned the garments of civilization. That is not

necessarily an adjunct of Christianity, nor is it all due to Christian

influence. While the missionaries have been laboring these years to win

souls to Christ, many civilizing influences have been at work throughout

the country, some of which have been previously mentioned. Stores with

European clothing are to be found everywhere, and many natives discard

their heathen garb for civilized clothing and yet know absolutely

nothing of Christ and His power to save. Some of these well-dressed

natives about the towns have learned far more of the evils of

civilization than of its virtues, and hide under their new dress an even

blacker heart than they did under their old pagan exterior. Then too we

are sorry to say that intelligence in the sense of having been at a

mission station and learning to read does not necessarily make them

Christians. Some of these also, to the great sorrow of their teachers,

have made poor use of their knowledge.

It is because the missionary sees this, and knows only too well the many

pitfalls before their unwary feet; it is because he realizes, as

probably no one else does, what it means to these poor souls to be so

suddenly brought from the dense darkness of heathendom into the glaring

lights of modern civilization, and how unprepared they are for it all,

how little they know to shun the evil and choose the good; it is because

he knows how helpless these are who have suddenly broken loose from

their old tribal laws and customs--some of which were beneficial--and

have been cast on the untried sea of strange and bewildering

surroundings, without any anchor to hold or compass and chart to guide

them--I say it is because the missionary knows all this and much more

that he can rejoice over such a crowd of fine-looking, stalwart men and

women as were gathered there that day to commemorate the sufferings and

death of our Lord.

He sees in the company before him Christian homes, free from ignorance

and superstition, free from witchcraft and pagan worship, free from the

beer, the filth, and degradation of their neighbors. He sees in this

company, homes free from the licentiousness and vice so common not only

among their heathen neighbors, but, sad to say, also among some of their

white ones. The missionary can rejoice that here are men and women who

have the Anchor in their souls and are standing as beacon lights to

their heathen neighbors and friends. It means much to them on the one

hand to break off from their old heathen lives; it means much on the

other not to be allured by the evils of the white man's civilization and

the inducements so often thrown out to lead lives of sin. To come out

from all these and accept Christ as Savior and be true to Him would seem

to be an almost Herculean task, and much greater than those in Christian

lands are called upon to perform. But we know that it has been and is

being accomplished. While one feels to rejoice over these sheep, at the

same time he bears a heavy heart for those other ones which have been

devoured by the grievous wolves.

The missionary is about the only force that makes for righteousness

among the natives, and he would often feel that his task was an

impossible one did he not continually realize that he is only under

orders of Him Who is sure in the end to win. Lest some may think that I

am overestimating some of these things, let me again quote Mr. Evans,

who is an authority on native affairs from a governmental standpoint. He

says:

"What is effecting the most profound change in the native is his contact

with the white man at all points, and this change is proceeding with

ever-accelerating speed. The fundamental difference between these

changes and those wrought by the missionaries is that, in the former

there is little building up of any salutary influence to take the place

of the old wholesome restraints, whilst in the latter religion and

morality are inculcated and replace the checks weakened or destroyed."

The work in Southern Rhodesia is by no means completed; it is only

fairly begun. The natives are just beginning to see the advantages of

Christian teaching, and are calling more and more loudly for schools,

and they are eagerly availing themselves of the opportunities afforded.

There is a large field to work and the time is opportune. Let every one

of God's children ask himself what his duty and privileges are in taking

possession of the country for God. Our people should have at least one

more station of white missionaries here as well as others for native

workers. Shall we leave to themselves these people, who are emerging

from centuries of darkness, to the influence of a corrupt civilization?

Our missionaries are laboring to the extent of their ability and the

means at their disposal. The work can advance only as it is backed up by

the people of the homeland, together with their prayers and money.

Something depends upon you, my reader, whoever you may be. What part

have you had in the winning of these souls? What part are you going to

have in those yet unborn into the Kingdom?

PART TWO

MACHA MISSION

"Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world"

--Matt. 28: 20