CHAPTER ONE

Bound for the Zambezi

Africa is a gigantic and dark continent. In fact, it is several

continents in one. Although nearly every one seems to know something of

its immensity, yet very few persons realize it unless they have resided

for a time in some portion of its vast interior; even then their

knowledge of it is likely to be quite vague. For centuries travelers of

various nationalities sought to penetrate it, many of whom perished in

the effort, while others brought back wonderful stories of peril and

adventure.

It remained for David Livingstone, however, to unearth the secrets of

Central Africa and to expose to the gaze of Christendom something of its

condition and needs. He inspired missionaries to press into the narrow

opening thus made, and to carry the light of the Gospel to the millions

bound in chains of darkness and blackest midnight. Messengers have been

heeding the call and have been kindling fires, one here and another

there, in the darkness.

In dealing with missionary work in Africa we must continually keep in

mind the fact that the natives are much scattered. The population cannot

definitely be ascertained, but it is variously estimated at from 130 to

150 millions of people. These are scattered over a territory equal in

area to the United States of America, Europe, India, and China

combined. In certain portions, such as the Sahara and Kalahari Deserts,

there are very few natives, while the lower plains and river valleys

support a large population. These alluvial plains, where nature affords

an abundance of food with a minimum of labor, offer great inducements to

the easy-going Africans. Here they settle in large numbers, not greatly

inconvenienced by the unhealthfulness of the locality. Pampered by the

amazing prodigality of nature on all sides, so that they need not exert

themselves much for food, and requiring little clothing in this mild

temperature, they settle themselves to the enjoyment of their animal

natures.

The missionary, as he enters these swamps, which are reeking with

malaria and other death-breeding diseases, takes his life in his hand;

for Africa has the unenviable reputation of being the "white man's

graveyard." It is true the medical fraternity are fast solving some of

the problems which confront everyone entering the country, yet many

difficulties still lie in the path of the missionaries who desire to

settle in the more densely populated regions.

In the old days of Dr. Livingstone and his immediate successors, it

required almost a small fortune to penetrate Central Africa. In addition

to this the way by wagon or by native carriers was long and tiresome,

and the traveler was subject to delays by swollen rivers, dying oxen,

and many other things. He was often in danger of his life by wild

animals or still wilder men, so that some never reached their desired

goal. Even after missionaries had succeeded in establishing mission

stations, they suffered much in health from exposure and lack of

comfortable homes, and they were obliged to live on the coarse native

food much of the time, on account of the difficulty in procuring

supplies, even though they might have had sufficient money to procure

better food.

At the present day the railroads are eliminating much of this

difficulty. Their advance is accomplishing more than any other agency in

opening up the continent to the Gospel. They are extending right into

the heart of the country, making use of the plateaus on which to build,

and bringing the necessities of life and even many of its luxuries

within reach of the white inhabitants.

In the year 1904 the Cape to Cairo Railroad was completed as far as the

Victoria Falls on the Zambezi River, a distance by rail of 1,642 miles

from Cape Town. This part of Africa as far as the Zambezi is generally

known as South Africa. If one examines a map, it is easy to be seen that

in size it is a very inconspicuous part of the African Continent; but in

point of modern civilization and twentieth-century methods of doing

things it compares very favorably with any other country. Especially can

this be said of the towns and vicinity, but there are yet many natives

who are without the Gospel. On my return to Africa, in 1905, the

railroad was being extended north of the Zambezi, the objective point at

that time being Broken Hill, making a total distance of 2,016 miles from

Cape Town.

The facts just mentioned had nothing to do with our call to interior

Africa, for that came before we knew what the actual conditions were and

before the railroad north of Bulawayo was built. The opening made by

the railroad, however, had much to do in making the advance practicable

at this time.

After our return from America we engaged in the work at Matopo and

Mapani for nearly a year, and continued looking to the Lord to ascertain

His will as to the time of opening the new work, for we were hoping that

there would be other missionaries ready to move out. Money was on hand

for the purpose. This meant something. While I was in America, as the

needs of pagan Africa were set forth, one after another would slip a

bill into my hand, saying, "I too want a share in pushing on that work

into the interior of Africa." What did it all mean--the lack of workers,

the ready money and the intense longing in my own soul to carry the

Light to those people? We had now waited a year with no prospects of

others being ready to go.

[Illustration: Victoria Falls Bridge.]

Brother Steigerwald was sending to America for a large Studebaker wagon,

and he advised that one also be ordered for the forward move, that both

might be sent out together. These arrived in May, 1906. Ndhlalambi had

felt called some time before to carry the Gospel beyond the Zambezi.

Although he was quite young, he was proving to be a very steadfast and

useful helper, both at Matopo and at Mapani Mission. When they were

opening the latter station, Sister Emma Doner wrote to me--as I was in

America at the time--and said, "Ndhlalambi is such a good helper in

erecting our buildings, as Levi has been quite sick. Perhaps the Lord is

preparing him so that he can build for you in Interior Africa." At that

time, however, I little thought that it would be necessary to rely

upon him for that work.

The time drew near when a decision must be made, either to move out or

to postpone the opening of the work for another year, and much time was

spent out among the rocks alone with Him. From a human standpoint it

appeared to be a hazardous undertaking to enter such a new country, and

many obstacles were in the way. I had been invited to spend the year at

Mapani Mission, and was quite ready to do so, providing that was the

Lord's will for me. On the other hand, if He desired that the work

beyond the Zambezi be opened this year, all power is in His hands; it

would be a small affair for Him to go before and prepare the way. The

more we looked to Him to ascertain His will the stronger the conviction

became that the time was at hand. Sister Adda Engle also expressed

herself as being ready for the work. The rest of the missionaries were

requested to make the matter a special subject of prayer. They did so,

and a few felt that an onward move was to be made; but the majority said

they did not have a clear understanding of the Lord's will in reference

to it.

It was hoped that Brother Steigerwald might be able to accompany us to

open up the work; but there were so many lines of work engaging his

attention at the time that it was impossible for him to leave. He,

however, fitted out the new wagon with a strong body and a fine large

tent, 6 x 13 feet over the whole, and as far as possible put everything

in readiness for the journey.

Our company included, besides Sister Engle and myself, the two native

Christian boys, Ndhlalambi Moyo and Gomo Sibanda. The latter was going

chiefly for the manual labor. They were both trustworthy and we knew

they could be depended upon. It was again the 4th of July when we

started on this northern journey, just eight years from the day on which

we had left Bulawayo for Matopo. Brother and Sister Steigerwald and

Sister Frey accompanied us as far as Bulawayo, expecting to aid us in

purchasing supplies and to assist us in getting started north. Mr.

Jackson, the English magistrate at Fort Usher, gave us letters of

introduction to the Civil Commissioner and the Administrator of Northern

Rhodesia, as the country north of the Zambezi is called.

Unfortunately it was found, on reaching Bulawayo, that much of the

business could not be attended to that week on account of holidays, so

that our friends were obliged to return to their station. The Monday

following was a busy and trying day on account of the many things to be

attended to and the long distances to be traversed. We wished to

purchase supplies for the greater part of the year, for we knew not what

awaited us and where the next would come from; and it was also necessary

that all the goods be sent on the same train on which we went.

Everything was finally accomplished, and July 10, 1906, found all our

supplies, about 2,800 pounds in weight, and the wagon, on the train

bound for Victoria Falls.

As Sister Engle and I entered our compartment on the train and began to

move northward, many conflicting emotions stirred within us, and it was

with much trembling and looking to the Lord that we went forward. We

knew not what opposition confronted us; for we had been informed by

those who knew something of the country that the officials might not

allow us to proceed farther than the Zambezi River. Only the

consciousness that we were under Divine orders gave courage to proceed.

We had the promise, "Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him and

He shall bring it to pass," and we were resting in it.

The journey of 280 miles to Victoria Falls is through new territory.

There were no towns--nothing but small station houses--and the country

is wild and in some places quite jungly-looking and infested by numerous

wild animals. At Wankie we passed through the region of the coal-mining

district, where there is a large vein of coal which is a most valuable

adjunct of the railroad. Victoria Falls was at that time the terminus of

the government-owned railroads, and the limit to which regular trains

ran; and we could not avoid wondering what was awaiting us beyond that.

As we stepped off the train at Victoria Falls a gentleman approached us,

and introducing himself as a forwarding agent, inquired if he could be

of any assistance to us. He inquired if we were not from Matopo Mission,

and at the same time stated that he had met Mr. Steigerwald in Bulawayo.

What a surprise and relief it was to us, for he seemed to be God's

especial messenger, sent to help us on the way. When he learned of the

situation he at once set our minds at rest by the assurance that he

would attend to everything and see that the goods and wagon, as well as

ourselves, were safely taken across the Zambezi River to the town of

Livingstone, seven miles on the other side. The railroad at this time

was completed to Broken Hill, 374 miles farther north, but trains were

run only occasionally. We were obliged to wait at this place two days

before an engine could be procured to take us over to Livingstone.

[Illustration: Main View of Victoria Falls, 1-1/4 Miles wide.]

An opportunity was thus afforded of viewing that magnificent sight,

Victoria Falls, which was discovered by David Livingstone in 1855, but

of which little was known until comparatively late years. This

surpassingly grand bit of scenery is considered by some people to

outrival that pride of all Americans, Niagara Falls. In dimensions, at

least, it certainly does surpass the American wonder. The Zambezi is

1,936 yards wide where it takes its mighty plunge of 400 feet into a

vast chasm below, only to be turned into clouds of spray again and rise

perhaps a thousand feet into the air. Rainbows play about it, forming a

scene of wonderful beauty and grandeur. The rock over which the river

flows has a gigantic V-shaped crack about 300 feet wide, into which

chasm the water plunges. The opposite wall is unbroken, save at one

place where it forms a gorge 300 feet wide, through which narrow channel

all the water of the falls, over a mile wide, escapes. Along this

opposite wall of rock is "Rain Forest," so called because it is always

dripping and, needless to say, the vegetation here is most luxuriant.

Six hundred and sixty feet below the gorge is a railroad bridge, 650

feet long and 420 feet above the water, the central span being 500 feet.

The view of these falls greatly changes at different seasons of the

year. To see them at the height of their magnificence, one should visit

them at the close of the rainy season in April, as at that time the

volume of water is much greater. At the close of the dry season, in

October or November, when the water is shallow, the Falls are often much

broken in some places. As this is one of the greatest of the sights of

South Africa, thousands of tourists visit the scene, and a hotel had

been erected near the railroad at this place.

Our agent informed us that on July 13 an engine would come and transfer

ourselves, together with the goods and wagon, to the Livingstone station

on the north side. For this purpose the wagon and goods were loaded on

an open truck, and as there was no passenger car, we too climbed up into

the wagon, on the truck, and in this manner crossed the Zambezi on that

railroad bridge, 420 feet high. At Livingstone the car was met by

another agent who, with his boys, assisted by ours, unloaded the car and

placed the wagon under the shade of a tree. Here it was fitted up as a

dwelling-place for Sister Engle and myself for the remainder of the

journey. It was a home on wheels. We praised the Lord that He had cared

for us this far on our journey and permitted our feet to be planted on

the north side of the river. Oxen could not be taken beyond the Zambezi

for fear of carrying disease, so it was necessary that some be purchased

before we proceeded farther.

This part of the country, like Southern Rhodesia, is under control of

the British Charter Company, but with a separate government. Unlike

that, it does not belong to the English by right of conquest, but

through concessions granted by Lewanika, the King of Barotseland, and

paramount chief of the country, for the purpose of exploration and

development. The country is occupied by three main tribes--the Barotse,

living along the Upper Zambezi and west of Victoria Falls; the Baila, or

Mashukulumbwe, as they are often called, living along the Kafue River

and north, and the Batonga, on the plateau between the Kafue and Zambezi

Rivers and east.

Those familiar with his life will remember that this is part of the

country explored by Dr. Livingstone during his first and second great

missionary journeys through Central Africa, from 1853 to about 1860. The

Barotse at that time were subject to the Makololo, who had emigrated

from Basutoland and settled along the Upper Zambezi. The Makololo

warriors were also responsible for the death of the first party of

missionaries to this part of the country. I refer to the expedition

under Price and Helmore, sent out in 1859 in response to Dr.

Livingstone's urgent call. Nearly all of this party of missionaries died

from poison administered by these natives, to the great sorrow of the

African explorer. His memorable prophecy, "God will require the blood of

His servants at the hands of you Makololo," was soon fulfilled. It is

said that just four years afterwards the Barotse arose against their

rulers, the Makololo, and slew them and asserted their independence.

It was in this part of Africa too that Livingstone first saw some of the

evils of the slave trade, and in 1873 he wrote to Mr. Gordon Bennett:

"When I dropped among the Makololo and others in this central region, I

saw a fair prospect for the regeneration of Africa. More could have been

done in the Makololo country [which is today known as Barotseland] than

was done by St. Patrick in Ireland, but I did not know that I was

surrounded by the Portuguese slave trade; a barrier to all

improvement.... All I can say in my loneliness is, may Heaven's richest

blessing come down on every one, American, Englishman, Turk, who will

help to heal this open sore of the world." A very remarkable

circumstance connected with this utterance is that he evidently did not

imagine at that time that the healing was to come first from yet another

country, France. Just six years (in 1879) after those memorable words

were uttered, Rev. F. Coillard settled in Barotseland. He and his heroic

wife deserve of all people in this part of the country to be called

Livingstone's successors.

These natives could speak the Suto language, and as the Scriptures had

been translated into that language for years, those books could be used

here among the Barotse, just as Zulu could be used in Matabeleland. In

the opening up of that work, Christian natives from Basutoland, a

thousand miles farther south, volunteered to accompany Coillard. It is

said, "Just on the border of Barotseland one of these native

evangelists, Eleazer, died. 'God be blessed,' he exclaimed, when he knew

that he must give up his heart's desire of preaching Christ to the

Barotse, 'God be blessed! the door is open. My grave will be a finger

post of the mission,'" as quoted by James Steward. So that it may be

seen that consecrated Africans also did their part in helping to heal

this sore. Coillard and his successors have ever since carried on a most

far-reaching work in Barotseland. About twenty years after the work was

opened, Brother Engle had the great pleasure of accidentally meeting

this venerable messenger of the Cross, Mr. Coillard, in a store in

Bulawayo. His hair then was white, but he was as intensely interested as

ever in his work, and was in a hurry to be back to his field of labor.

As, at that time, there was no railroad farther than Bulawayo, he had to

travel about 300 miles by ox-wagon and then by boat on the river. The

labors of the missionaries and the advantages of good government have

accomplished marvelous results in bringing peace and safety to this

valley, yet even at this late date there are not wanting those who, if

they dared, would rejoice to resurrect the old slave trade.

Among the Baila tribe the Primitive Methodists of England, after

encountering many difficulties along the way, had begun a work in 1893

at Nkala, and a few years later at Nanzela. In 1905 they also opened one

at Nambala, about seventy-five miles north of the Kafue. Although they

were doing excellent work, they had as yet been able to reach only a

small portion of the Baila tribe when we appeared on the scene. There

were no missionaries among the Batonga tribe living on the plateau

between the Zambezi and Kafue Rivers, until 1915, when a mission was

opened about 175 miles northeast of Livingstone by Mr. Anderson, of the

Seventh Day Adventist Mission. This was just one year before we reached

the country. Livingstone in his journey had passed through much of this

country, including Kalomo, Monze Tete, and the Kafue River.

CHAPTER TWO

From the Zambezi River to Macha

The town, Livingstone, was, in 1906, quite small, and consisted chiefly

of government buildings, postoffice, native stores, railway station, and

shops. Some of these buildings, especially those owned by the

government, were well made and ant-proof. The town was at a short

distance from the railway station and seemed to have been built on a

hill of yellow sand, which sand was so deep that walking seemed almost

impossible, and riding was very little improvement over walking.

Our first step was to call on the Commissioner, Mr. Sykes, and present

the letter of introduction. He met us in a friendly and accommodating

spirit, but gave no encouragement to proceed on into the interior, owing

to the newness of the country and the unsettled condition of the natives

in some places. His version of the work accomplished by missionaries was

not very flattering, but that did not deter us in the least, as one

generally becomes accustomed to hearing such things. He, however, did

not offer to throw any obstacles in the way of our progress, but stated

that it would be necessary for us to have an interview with the

Administrator (governor) at Kalomo, the capital of North Rhodesia. He

expressed his willingness to do whatever lay in his power to aid us in

the undertaking, and advised that the purchasing of trained oxen for

drawing the wagon be left in his hands, and he would see to it that good

ones at a fair price were secured. This generous offer was most

gratefully accepted. We were also invited to his home, and were most

hospitably entertained by his estimable wife and his sister, and were

made to feel that as yet we were not beyond the reach of civilization.

They were living in a well-built mosquito-proof dwelling, which had been

made in England and sent out ready to be put together.

The next day a European brought to our tent ten trained oxen, with a

note from Mr. Sykes, that he had proved these and found them

satisfactory. The price too was below what had been expected. Thus

equipped we were prepared to proceed to Kalomo, a distance by wagon road

of nearly one hundred miles. A boy was employed to lead the oxen and a

native government messenger was also sent along as guide. Gomo was to do

the driving, but the man of whom the oxen had been purchased said he did

not think the boy knew much about driving oxen, and so it proved later.

There were occasional passenger trains running north through Kalomo, and

some of the people at Livingstone had advised us to take the train that

far and let the boys bring the wagon. Others, however, thought it best

for us to stay by the wagon and supplies, as there was no suitable hotel

at Kalomo, and it would be over a week before the wagon could reach that

place, so we decided to remain with our supplies.

The wagon was heavily laden, the roads were rough, and rivers

bridgeless. About ten miles out from Livingstone, in going over a piece

of rocky road, the reach of the wagon broke and further progress was

impossible. Had the drivers been accustomed to this wild country, and

the accidents incidental to it, they might soon have made another reach

with timber from the forest surrounding us, as they often did in later

years. At that time, however, we were helpless. What was to be done?

There was only one course open, and that was to take the wagon back to

Livingstone and have it mended. Some of the party remained with the

wagon and supplies and the rest of us walked back to Livingstone to see

what could be done. The question wanted to force itself upon us, Were we

after all mistaken as to the Lord's leadings?

Mr. Sykes was again the Good Samaritan, when he heard our story. The

next morning he sent out conveyances to bring all back to Livingstone,

and he and Mrs. Sykes insisted on our occupying the guest house until

our wagon was repaired. There were no hotels in the place, and we were

informed that prospectors and others often made use of the government

house for an indefinite length of time. They said they were glad the

accident had not occurred forty or fifty miles out, beyond the reach of

help. We too felt deeply thankful that it had been no worse, and in a

short time we were made to rejoice that there had been an accident; for

it was soon evident that it was a blessing in disguise, and God had

permitted it for a purpose. There were two roads to Kalomo, and neither

was much traveled at the time. We learned that the one on which our

guide was taking us was not well supplied with water, was infested with

many savage beasts and the tsetse fly, which kills oxen, so that it was

altogether unsafe for the journey.

While we were waiting at Livingstone this second time, a great deal of

information was gleaned in reference to the people and country north of

Kalomo, called the Mapanza Sub-district. We learned that the people

there were quiet and peaceable and that there were no missionaries in

that section of the country. We also met a gentleman from Kalomo, who

proved of assistance when we at last reached that place. Again

information was received that a number of wagons under Mr. King were

proceeding north to within a short distance of Kalomo, and if we could

travel in their company, all difficulties in regard to the route, the

finding of water for the oxen, and dangers along the way would be at an

end. A driver accustomed to the country was also secured to take the

wagon as far as Kalomo. Thus equipped we again started. As we left

Livingstone, Mr. Sykes exclaimed, "I feel more in favor now of your

going on than I did the first time."

On the first day out our wagon came up with Mr. King's company, which

consisted of five large wagons, all heavily laden with goods and each

drawn by eighteen oxen. They were traveling north to within twenty-five

miles of Kalomo, and thence west and north to Tanganyika. We might have

delayed a year and not have found so good an opportunity of traveling by

wagon to Kalomo. We followed this train of wagons and had no anxious

thought in reference to the journey. Traveling by ox-wagons is done

chiefly at night, or from very early morning until 9 A. M. Then the oxen

are outspanned and allowed to graze and rest during the heat of the day,

while the travelers cook, eat, and rest. Late in the afternoon the oxen

are again inspanned and they travel until about 9 or 10 P. M., when they

stop for the night. One or two large fires of logs are built at each

wagon and kept burning through the night to ward off wild beasts from

the oxen. Animals are afraid of the fire; especially do lions love

darkness rather than light, their favorite nights for prowling being the

dark, rainy ones. This king of beasts, although the strongest, is by no

means the bravest. He does his loudest roaring in the midst of his

native haunts, far away from harm, and when near his prey, human or

otherwise, his tread is most stealthy and catlike.

Before retiring for the night the natives, especially, cook and eat.

They often do with a small portion of food during the day, but before

retiring they like an abundance of good porridge and meat. They then

retire to rest, their favorite place being around the huge campfires.

Sister Engle and I were very comfortably situated in the tent of the

wagon. Two other difficulties likely to meet travelers in this part of

the country are scarcity of water and the tsetse fly. If the latter is

met with it is necessary to make the journey through the infested

district entirely by night. Since the uninitiated are not familiar with

the location of these districts, the oxen are often bitten without their

knowledge, and death is certain, for as yet no remedy for the bite has

been discovered. As for water, that is one of the great difficulties on

these African plateaus, and at one time we were obliged to travel

seventeen miles without seeing any. Since oxen, with heavily-laden

wagons, travel slowly, this required the oxen to be inspanned three

times before water was reached. Mr. King rode a horse and went in

advance to look for water and camping places, and also for game, which

generally furnishes a large proportion of the food, both for white

people and black ones on such trips. We ourselves would be favored with

a piece of delicious venison after such excursions. Water in casks was

carried along from one watering place to another for cooking and

drinking purposes, but it is never drunk without being boiled or made

into tea, and even then it is often very muddy-looking.

Mr. King was familiar with the country, and had formerly traded with the

people in the vicinity of Macha, north of Kalomo, so that he could

furnish all necessary information about the Mapanza district, to which

we desired to go. This was the first time we heard the name of the place

which was destined to be the future mission station. The information

received from him proved invaluable later on, when the question of

location was being considered. As the way thus opened, step by step, we

were continually made to feel that the Lord was guiding and causing all

things to work together for good toward the opening of the work, and our

hearts were filled with gratitude for His many favors.

The last forty miles of the journey were made alone, as we did not care

to travel on Sunday, and the other wagons were soon to leave and

proceed westward. We reached Kalomo August 1, after a journey of nine

days. This place, although the chief seat of government, could not be

designated a town. It was rather a scattered camp, containing two small

stores, a postoffice, and the dwellings and offices of the government

officials. The railway station was about three miles distant. Here the

fate of the undertaking was to be decided, as to whether we should be

permitted to proceed or be turned back. That morning in worship the Lord

gave us Isaiah 41: 10 for a promise, which greatly encouraged our

trembling hearts. We had now been absent from Bulawayo four weeks and

had received no mail, as it had been ordered sent to this place; so the

first journey was to the postoffice. I went for the mail alone, and

inquired first for myself. The clerk exclaimed, "And Miss Engle, too?"

and handed out a bundle of letters, all carefully laid together in a

place by themselves. Evidently we were expected, and visitors were not

common, especially women.

It was necessary first to meet the secretary of the Lands' Department,

so in the afternoon Sister Engle and I proceeded to his office. He had

heard of our coming and absolutely refused a place in Mapanza district

on which we might locate. His reasons were more or less plausible, and

we were not wholly unprepared for his answer. We learned afterwards that

we were not the only persons who had failed to receive encouragement

from this gentleman. He added, however, that they could not hinder our

proceeding farther if we felt so inclined. He suggested our going to

Broken Hill, the terminus of the railroad, 280 miles northeast, as

there were some white inhabitants there. That no doubt would have been a

good opening for a mission station, as there were no missionaries there

at this time, and only one between Kalomo and that place. It did not,

however, seem to be the Lord's will for us to proceed that far, and

since there would be a new set of officials there to deal with, our

reception might not be any better. After sending our letter of

introduction to the Administrator, we turned toward the wagon to

consider and pray over the affair, realizing that a more perplexing

problem than a broken wagon was facing us.

We had not proceeded far when a gentleman came to inform us that the

Administrator, who is the highest official in the country, requested an

interview. We were kindly received by the honorable gentleman and given

an opportunity of explaining in what part of the country we desired to

open a mission station, and the condition of the natives in that

section. He said that he saw no serious difficulty in the way, and that

he was in favor of allowing us to proceed and select a mission site. He

affirmed, however, that the unhealthfulness of the climate was the most

serious obstacle; and, since it was late in the season for us to put up

a mosquito-proof dwelling before the rainy and unhealthy season came, he

thought it best for us to select a place and then go south until the

rains were over. Otherwise we might be stricken with fever, a deadly

type of which, known as black water fever, is common in this section of

the country. We promised to consider seriously his advice, if a proper

dwelling could not be secured before the rains came. He then directed

us to the civil commissioner of that district, who especially encouraged

the undertaking, expressing his belief that we would encounter no

difficulty among the natives, since he was familiar with and had

jurisdiction of Mapanza district. He said, "The field is before you, and

as there are no other missionaries there, it is yours to occupy." He

also gave a letter to the magistrate at Mapanza and a native messenger

to show us the way.

It was with thankfulness too deep for words that we returned to the

wagon. God was again verifying His wonderful promises. Praise His Holy

Name! Part of our freight had been sent to Kalomo by train, so after

procuring that from the station, we proceeded north about sixty miles

through Macha and other places to the camp of the official at Mapanza.

When about half the distance was traversed we unexpectedly came upon a

Dutch family living there all alone in the wilds. They had not been

there long and were not permanent settlers, but we managed to purchase

from them some fine imported chickens and some banana sprouts, all of

which have proved to be a most useful addition to our mission property.

The natives were much scattered in a portion of the country through

which we passed until we approached the vicinity of Macha. Here they

were much more thickly settled, and also from this on to the camp at

Mapanza. At the latter place the official was not at home. While waiting

for him we concluded to visit some of the natives and went to the

village of one of the most prominent chiefs of this district, Mapanza

by name. There were thirty-five huts in the village. In the center of

this was a large cattle pen, and around it and the outside of the

palisade the huts were built in a circle, all opening toward the center.

As we entered this enclosure we were greeted with clapping of hands on

all sides. This is the native way of saluting their king and government

officials and sometimes other white people. In this instance the

uniformed government messenger accompanied us, and no doubt gave

prestige to our visit. The people of the village received us in a

friendly manner, but since their language was unintelligible to us we

soon returned to the wagon.

The time of the official's return was uncertain and we preferred not to

locate in the immediate vicinity of the camp, so it was thought

advisable to return a short distance and select a mission site. Some of

the rivers through which we had safely come proved more difficult on the

return journey. Gomo had been driving since we left Kalomo and did

excellent work; but he found the Myeki River here at the camp very

difficult to cross. There are long, steep hills on either side of the

river, and in addition to this the bed of the bridgeless stream is quite

deep. Our oxen had done splendid work on the long journey from

Livingstone, but in recrossing this river they seemed unequal to the

effort. After struggling awhile one finally lay down and refused to

move. This was a new experience for us, but perhaps not for the boys.

Gomo used every inducement to make it rise, but to no avail. To our

amusement he finally, as a last resort, bit its tail. It was up in an

instant and the wagon moved on. We have since learned that oxen are

often more stubborn than that one, especially new ones. They sometimes

lie down and nothing will induce them to move. They will endure fire and

even death itself.

We drove back and carefully looked over the various locations, and after

asking the Lord for direction, we finally decided upon our present site

on the bank of the Macha River, or rather on the hill above it. The tent

was removed from the wagon and placed on poles and prepared for

occupancy. This place is about fourteen miles from the camp at Mapanza,

and was reached August 17, a little over six weeks from the time we left

Matopo Mission. We had traveled in all about 485 miles, about 170 of

which was by ox-wagon. Our journal of the time records:

"In all the Lord has wonderfully given us health and strength, and no

harm of wild beasts or wilder men has befallen us. The journey had been

far more successful in every way than we had anticipated, and we praise

the Lord that at last we are settled."

CHAPTER THREE

The Opening of the Work at Macha

In selecting a location for the mission, the desire was to secure a

place sufficiently high so as to be at a distance from the low swamps,

breeding malaria and other deadly diseases, and yet near enough to the

river so as to have access to water. We desired also to have land in the

vicinity suitable for agriculture and industrial purposes in general,

and for the growing of fruit and vegetables. Then again, in addition to

the above requirements, the object of our coming to the country was not

to be lost sight of; _i. e._, the natives themselves. We desired to have

easy access to them so that they might receive the Gospel. All of these

requirements were prayerfully considered and we believe met in the

location of Macha. As eight years have passed since then, our

convictions have only been strengthened that it was the Lord's choice

for the work.

As near as can be estimated the location is about 16-1/2 deg. south latitude

and 27 deg. east longitude, and is about 4,500 feet above sea level, so

that, although it is within the tropics, the altitude causes the climate

to be pleasant the greater portion of the year and as healthful a site

as can be secured in that section of the country. Along one side of the

3,000-acre mission farm is a small river, which gives name to the

locality, and the tent was pitched over half a mile from this river.

The place afforded excellent facilities for agriculture and fruit

growing. Especially can bananas and citrus trees be grown without

irrigation. The country is rolling and there are numerous rich valleys

capable of supporting many natives. There are wagon roads which have

been made by traders who go through the country and buy grain of the

natives in exchange for cloth, ornaments, blankets, and clothing. There

were no surveyed farms in this vicinity, and the only farmers near lived

over twenty miles from Macha, but numerous villages of natives are

within walking distance and wagon road.

At the opening of Macha Mission there was a station of Primitive

Methodists northwest at a distance of at least sixty miles, and the one

of the Seventh Day Adventist Mission at about the same distance

northeast. With the exception of these two places one might go a hundred

miles in any other direction and not find a mission station, so that we

could certainly feel that we were not intruding into the territory of

any other missionaries. The natives in this part of the country had

heard absolutely nothing of Christ, and they knew not what missionaries

were or how they differed from other people.

Our little tent, 6 x 13 feet, was sufficiently commodious for eating and

sleeping, but all the work had to be performed on the outside in the

shade of a large tree, near which the tent had been placed. Beneath this

tree also our supplies were piled off the ground and away from the

destructive white ants, of which the ground was everywhere full. We had

no cookstove then, and all our cooking was done over an open fire,

while bread was baked in a large, flat-bottomed iron pot with long legs.

This was placed over a bed of live coals, while coals were also placed

on the iron cover. Some very good yeast bread came from that iron pot,

novel perhaps to Americans, but familiar to Africanders. Many people

traveling through the country made use of the ant hills as bake-ovens.

The Christian boys who accompanied us, as well as some younger ones who

came for work, camped at a short distance from the tent, and at night

slept around the fire until huts could be built for them. Before the

mission site had been agreed upon two young boys came and asked for

work. We took them, and one of these has been one of our most faithful

helpers. As grain was plentiful in the neighborhood there was no

difficulty in securing food for the natives. Many of the older people,

men and women, came to see and welcome us. Every effort was put forth

toward erecting buildings before the rains came on, but as fires had

swept over the country and destroyed most of the grass, it was evident

that our chief difficulty would be in procuring thatching grass. This

difficulty was obviated by a man at Mapanza, who was erecting a house

for the commissioner, offering us for a small sum a lot of grass that he

had on hand. Some time later our journal is as follows:

These have been busy days; much work has been crowded into them.

Building and making furniture have occupied the attention of all of

us, and everything has had to be done with native material and few

tools, which have increased the amount of labor. The poles had to

be hauled

five or six miles and some of the grass for thatching was brought

fourteen miles. Ndhlalambi has been a faithful and excellent

workman. He is not as quick as some, but few natives would have

succeeded in making better buildings, as he is careful and

painstaking in all he does. Gomo is just the opposite; he is just

as willing, but is no builder. He has, however, been very useful in

hauling poles and grass, and mud for plastering, and he performed a

splendid service in venturing among the Baila (a warlike tribe

north of us) and purchasing for us two cows. Sister Engle and I

have been bending all our energies toward helping with the building

in the more technical parts, so that the work might be accomplished

as soon as possible, and we have been spending some of our time in

making furniture. There has been no difficulty in securing natives

to work for us, and they have all worked faithfully under

Ndhlalambi's supervision.

There seems to be nothing to mar the work and location thus far,

except the savage beasts, which prowl around at night, a terror to the

domestic animals and to ourselves. When we pray, "Keep us from harm

and danger," it is a more genuine prayer than formerly. Many nights

the howls of the wolves and hyenas are to be heard, and one night some

of the boys awoke to see in the firelight the eyes of a hyena glaring

at them. Some of the natives built a high, strong pen for our cattle,

and the first night they were enclosed in it a lion tried to force its

way in, as indicated by the spoors the next morning. Leopards have

also been seen. These evidences, as well as the stories told by

others, convince us that there are wild beasts in the neighborhood,

yet the Lord is able to keep and has thus far kept us from harm.

The 91st Psalm was very precious in those days.

These first buildings were constructed in a manner very similar to those

at Matopo Mission, except that it was thought advisable to build the

main part of the house all in one, so as to obviate the necessity of

going outside in passing from one room to another--a very important

consideration in such a wild country. The scarcity of grass limited the

size of the house to a certain extent. It was 26 x 14 feet, with a

veranda around three sides to protect from the sun and rain, and was

divided into three small compartments opening into one another, the

small doorways being closed by curtains. As there was no seasoned lumber

to be had, there was only one outside door, and this was made from one

of the boxes in which the goods had been packed. A table was

manufactured from another box, and the bedsteads, as well as nearly all

the rest of the furniture, were manufactured from native unseasoned

timber and draped with calico. A muslin ceiling was a necessity to

prevent the sawdust from falling from the rafters.

On the inside of the house the walls were carefully plastered up against

the thatched roof, and the openings for windows were closed by fine wire

gauze netting to exclude mosquitoes. An important question was how to

make a screen door for the only outside door of the building, as

unseasoned timber would not answer the purpose. The pole of the wagon

had been broken soon after our arrival at Macha, and one from the forest

put in its place; and since this broken piece of timber was of hardwood

and sufficiently long for a door frame, we decided to make use of it for

that purpose. It was sawed and with considerable labor made into a frame

and proved quite satisfactory. Sister Engle, who was always patient and

painstaking in her work and full of resources, deserves much credit for

this and many other things with which the house was equipped. That

screen door is still doing excellent service after a lapse of eight

years. After it was finished it was found that to fit it into the door

frame so as to make it mosquito proof was no small task. The door frame

had been manufactured from unseasoned native timber and was greatly

warped. After much chiseling and shaping even this feat was

accomplished, and the result was a mosquito-proof house, for that season

at least. Mosquito nets for the beds had also been brought along.

A small kitchen was also built and a hut for the native brethren before

the rains came. The grass, stumps, and underbrush were cleared off all

around the buildings and at some distance from them. This is customary

in this part of the country, and it is done for the purpose of removing

the hiding places of mosquitoes, snakes, and the like. Although more

natives were employed the first few months at Macha than at Matopo, we

experienced no difficulty in dealing with them; perhaps because we were

more familiar with their character, and our native Christians too were

quite capable of understanding them.

During the progress of the work, the advice of the Administrator had not

been forgotten, as it was our earnest desire to do that which was best,

and we looked to the Lord for guidance. It seemed advisable to remain.

Contrary to his expectations, a mosquito-proof dwelling-house had been

constructed, and the work which was started would certainly have

suffered if we had gone away. The boys who had accompanied us were in

every respect proving themselves capable and reliant; the natives were

quiet and respectful; and not the least difficulty in the way of our

return was the long, dangerous trip to Kalomo to reach the railroad. We

had safely come that way once, yet we dreaded the long trip back,

perhaps because we did not believe that it was the Lord's will for us to

make it. The post was brought to our door by the government messenger as

he passed on his way to Mapanza, and a trader near offered to bring out

from Kalomo any needed supplies.

All our needs thus far were abundantly supplied by a loving Father. All

praise to Him Who "is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we

ask or think." Even in our most sanguine expectations before coming to

the country we had not thought to be so well provided for. He in His

infinite wisdom and forethought had gone before and prepared every step

of the way; He had opened every door and enabled the mission to be thus

planted in raw heathendom where Christ had not been named. The location

proven by years of trial could not have been improved, for He makes no

mistakes. The call and the desire for the extension of His Kingdom,

which He had put into our hearts before ever Africa was reached, was

thus being fulfilled. He had done and was doing His part; what more

could we ask? Yea, we were weighted down and humbled by the multitude of

favors which He was showering upon us. The only thing to mar our peace

at this time was the consciousness that our friends and some of the

government officials were uneasy on our account. We saw no cause for

fear, and were conscious that the continued prayers ascending in behalf

of ourselves and the work were availing before God, and that we were at

the place where He desired us to be.

After the buildings were completed and the rains came the boys put forth

every effort to dig some of the ground and plant grain and vegetables.

This had to be done by hand, as the plow had not yet arrived.

In the many duties incident to starting a new station, the spiritual

part of the work was not neglected. A little visiting among the people

was done both by Sister Engle and myself and by the native brethren. An

attempt was also made each Sunday to instill into the minds of the

people something of the sacredness of the day. Since a number of natives

came daily to work at the mission, they were informed that we did not

work on Sunday, but worshiped God instead. It was thus not difficult to

assemble twenty-five or thirty on Sunday for services. These were always

married people, with the exception of the few boys who were staying at

the mission to work. The younger people, and especially the girls and

children, were conspicuous only by their absence. It was the same at the

village; none except men and women were to be seen, so that at first we

all concluded that there were no children in the neighborhood. Later it

was learned that these and all the unmarried girls ran and hid when we

approached a village.

We could invite the people on Sunday, or we could go to see them in

their homes, but to speak to them was a more difficult affair. There was

the same difficulty in the language as at Matopo, but with a

difference. There we had a translation of the Bible, dictionaries and

grammars, and could at least read the Word to them. Here we were among

the Batonga, and their language, although belonging to the same great

Bantu family of languages, was quite distinct from that of Southern

Rhodesia. There were no translations, no dictionaries, at the time the

mission opened, so that the task of acquiring it was no small one. We

soon realized that we had not sufficiently appreciated our blessings in

Southern Rhodesia. Here it was necessary to have notebook and pencil

continually on hand and write down the words as they fell from the lips

of the natives; nor was it an easy task to decide upon the spelling of

the words; especially was there difficulty in distinguishing the letters

_l_ and _r_. The same word as it fell from the lips of one native would

seem to have an _l_, and as spoken by another it would be _r_. Of course

there were many similar difficulties.

One of our first aims was to secure the expression for "What is that?"

"_Chi nzi echo?_" and with that as a basis the names at least of many

things could be learned. Then too it is not so difficult to learn to use

expressions common in everyday duties and the material things about one;

but to secure a suitable vocabulary for instruction in the Gospel is

generally a difficult task, and missionaries differ widely in reference

to terms for spiritual things.

The native vocabulary is by no means meager, and one is often surprised

that people living such seemingly narrow lives as they do have in

constant use such a copious vocabulary. Their thoughts as a rule can be

expressed in fewer words than in English. For instance, they will say

bona, to see; _bonwa_, to be seen; _bwene_, to have seen; _bonana_, to

see each other; _boneka_, to be visible; _bonela_, to see for; and

_bonesha_, to see clearly, and some verbs have additional forms. Again,

in the use of verbs, such as _go_, they will have different words to

express various phases of it: _Ya_, to go; _benda_, to go stooping, as

after game; _fwamba_, to go quickly; _endenda_, to go for a walk;

_ambuka_, to go aside, or astray; and so on for eighteen different

words.

The especial difficulty of the missionary is to secure the proper words

to convey spiritual conceptions not generally met with in their

comprehension; such as, _faith_, _holy_, _save_, _cross_, _heaven_, and

even in the word for God there is often a difference of opinion among

missionaries as to the word to be used. Among all tribes there seems to

be a word for God, but the conception upon which it is based is so

degrading that one often hesitates to make use of it in referring to the

Holy and Omnipotent One Whom we have learned to revere. Two opinions are

prevalent among missionaries in reference to some of the words. One is

to make use of the words already found in a language and to seek to

build up upon those words a new conception altogether foreign to the

native line of thought. Others think that it is better to introduce a

new word and attach the desired meaning to it. I think it is safe to say

that the former is the method generally employed among translators, but

whether it is in all instances the best method is open to question.

Natives very quickly learn the language of other tribes, and so it was

in this instance. Our native Christians soon acquired this language. A

few of those working for us could after a manner speak that "Esperanto

of South Africa," "Kitchen Kafir," and this enabled them from the first

to understand one another, in a slight degree at least, and gave them a

common basis from which to pass to the Tonga language proper, spoken by

the people about us. As Ndhlalambi, who took the name of David, had felt

the call definitely to give the Gospel to these people, and had had

experience in evangelistic work, both at Mapani and at Matopo Mission,

he was able in a comparatively short time to give the Gospel

intelligently to the people, and also to assist us in acquiring the

language. Of course this was by no means accomplished in a few months,

or even in a year, for it was often difficult for even him to secure the

proper words in spiritual language. These helpers too had their

difficulties in the work, and had their misunderstandings with the

natives. One day one of them was quite discouraged in an attempt to make

some natives understand properly, and he exclaimed, "I have a great deal

more sympathy with the white man now in his endeavors to make the people

understand, and to teach them how to work. These people seem so dull to

me, and I know why our masters became so out of patience with us."

There was at first no attempt at opening school; but stencils and

cardboard had been brought along, and with these charts were printed in

the syllables and sentences of the language as nearly as we understood

it. Sister Engle made use of these charts in teaching, by the light of

the campfire in the evenings, the young boys who had come to work for

us. Our two native helpers also continued their studies and were

instructed whenever there was time for it after the buildings were

completed.

As the first Christmas drew near, a query arose as to how it should be

observed, and whether services should be held, since no one could yet

speak very well the language. David and Gomo were eager for services,

saying that they would put forth every effort to speak to the people

about Christ. We longed to give the people something on that day as an

expression of our good will, but could not see the way open to do so. At

Matopo Mission salt was always given, but in this part of the country

salt was very expensive and there was only a little on hand, and we were

not prepared to give them meat, as we had little opportunity of

procuring game for ourselves. Services, however, were announced for the

day, and early in the morning some natives began to arrive, curious to

know what the day was like.

In the morning Sister Engle and I were sitting at the table on the

veranda, eating our breakfast, speaking of the plans for the day, and

expressing a wish that there was some food to set before the people.

While speaking, we heard a goat bleat, and presently two natives, one of

whom was carrying a goat on his shoulders, came toward us. They put the

goat down on the ground before us, saying as they did so, "The Chief,

Macha, sent you this as a present." Here was the answer to our wish and

unuttered prayer. Another native headman a short time previously had

also presented a goat, and we had bought one, and these three would be

sufficient for the dinner. Our praises ascended simultaneously, and we

realized that the promise was again verified, "Before they call, I will

answer; and while they are yet speaking I will hear."

The native brethren entered heartily into the preparations, and with the

assistance of the others, they soon had the animals killed and dressed,

and in the cooking kettles. Fortunately there was cornmeal on hand which

also furnished sufficient porridge. We rejoiced as we saw the people

coming that there was food to set before them, even though the Gospel

messenger could not be given satisfactorily; but there was still a

greater and more blessed surprise in store.

There were ninety-six grown people assembled, chiefly fathers and

mothers, heads of families, and these were all seated along the veranda

and in the shade of the tent. David took up the subject of Christmas and

its origin by first reading it from the Zulu Testament, which, of

course, they did not understand. Before he had read much the Lord sent a

first-class interpreter, in the person of a Mutonga native who had

worked for some time in Bulawayo, and there learned to read and speak

the Zulu language and to understand the Gospel. He was not, however, a

Christian, as we learned, but he proved a most ready and excellent

interpreter for the day; and as the message was given in Zulu, he as

readily interpreted it into the vernacular of the people.

The Lord especially anointed our brother David for the message that day,

and he most ably and feelingly presented the wonderful story of the

birth and life of our Savior and His great mission in the redemption of

the world. Perhaps the unique opportunity had some effect upon my

feelings, but it seemed to me that I never at any other time heard the

subject so well handled before a congregation of natives as it was on

that day. The native men, especially, listened most attentively

throughout that long discourse. Tears came into my eyes as I looked upon

those seamed faces before me, those middle-aged and elderly men who, for

the first time in their lives, had an opportunity of hearing of Him Who

had come to earth nineteen hundred years before to redeem them. How much

of the _makani mabotu_ (glad tidings) they grasped at the time it is

difficult to ascertain.

At the close of the discourse some of the rest of us spoke for a short

time on the same theme, and also explained the cause of our being among

them. Then after a hymn and prayer they were given their food. A

bountiful dinner had also been prepared for ourselves, a portion of

which we handed over to the two helpers who had so faithfully labored to

make the day a success. It is needless to say that they too thoroughly

enjoyed their dinner. In every way this first Christmas was one long to

be remembered, with nothing to mar the perfect harmony of the occasion.

CHAPTER FOUR

School Work. Reinforcements

Up to this time nothing had been said about school, except that a few

boys had been taught in the evenings. There was no word for it in their

language, and learning had no meaning or attraction for them. They only

desired to work and earn money.

The first herdboy came before the mission was located, and to him we

gave the name "Jim," as we did not fancy his native name. He remained

with us three months and then returned home and his cousin Tom came to

herd. Both of these boys manifested a great interest in what they heard,

and Tom was the first one to express a desire to be a Christian. Another

little boy ran off from home one day and begged permission to remain at

the mission. His mother immediately followed him and told him to go

home. He refused, and sitting down by a tree he put his arms around it

and clung to it; but the mother tore the poor little fellow from the

tree and dragged him away. Aside from these, very few children made

their appearance during the first five or six months of the mission, and

no girls came for a much longer period of time. The older people were

friendly from the first, but we often felt that some of them inspired

their children with a certain amount of fear of the newcomers.

January 1, 1907, the people were informed that we wished to open a

school and that they should come to learn. By this we had in mind a

day-school, where the pupils would come in the morning and return home

at the close of the session. It had been impossible to build a

schoolhouse, since nearly all the grass had been burnt off before our

appearance on the scene. We, however, set up the little tent and built a

straw shed at one end of it for a temporary schoolhouse.

As school and its advantages had no meaning to the people, no one came.

Then too it was the busiest season of the year. One, two, three weeks

passed, and still no one desired to learn. January passed and half of

February; still no scholars. This was a new experience. At Matopo the

children could scarcely wait until school opened, and they were the

pioneers there and gradually drew the older people to take an interest.

Here it was quite the reverse; the children were afraid of us, and would

run away, screaming, to hide in the tall grass when we approached their

villages. What was to be done? As usual we began to look to the Source

that never fails.

The middle of February it was thought advisable to have a week of

prayer. All work was laid aside and the time was spent by the Christians

in interceding at a Throne of Grace, for we felt that perhaps we had

been too much occupied in temporal affairs. In the midst of this week of

prayer, on February 19, Macha, the chief, came, bringing his little boy,

about twelve years of age, and said, "Here is my son. I should like to

have him stay with the missionaries and learn to read and to work."

Here then was a direct answer to prayer. The chief of the district had

set an example to his people by thus bringing his child. This was a

signal for others, Apuleni, another boy of about the same age, came the

next week, and Mafulo and Kajiga followed; also others. Jim and Tom came

to remain and attend school, and by the end of the year there were

seventeen boys in all staying at the mission.

These were nearly all boys from ten to sixteen years of age; a few were

older. None who applied were refused if they were willing to abide by

the regulations; and industrial work was at once inaugurated in

connection with the school. They were to be taught in school three and

one-half hours, and work early morning and afternoon, receiving, in

addition to their food and instruction, some clothing, and blankets for

the night. They were to remain at least a year before they could take

the clothing home with them. This stipulation was made to teach them

stability and prevent them from coming sufficiently long to secure

clothing and then leaving before they had properly earned it. The

arrangement proved very satisfactory. The few taxpayers who entered the

industrial school were given a small sum of money, provided they

completed the time agreed upon. They always had Saturday afternoon as a

half holiday, when they were to wash and mend their clothing and have

the remainder of the time for recreation.

It was always our aim to make them understand that they were expected to

earn what they received by giving labor in return. We had no sympathy

with pupils who desired to learn and lie about and be idle the rest of

the time. Several who desired to bring their food and remain at the

mission without working were not allowed to do so, as we thought it

would prove detrimental, both to themselves and to the rest. We

preferred a dozen industrious and stable boys to many times that number

who were lazy and indifferent. It is true some of the smallest could

scarcely be said to earn their way at first, but they were at least

taught habits of industry. In their homes many of them spent their time

in an indolent fashion, their muscles being flabby and unused to

exercise; and often, when they came to us, they were too lazy even to

play at recess. Gradually they brightened up and took hold of the tasks

assigned them. One day one of the mothers came and inquired about her

son, a boy about thirteen years of age, and she was told that he was

digging in the garden.

"Kanyama digging?" she asked, in great surprise. "Why, he does not know

how to work."

The first rainy season was quite pleasant, and it passed with very

little sickness among our workers. It gave us an opportunity also of

learning something of the fertility of the soil on the mission farm.

Much of the land, and especially that in the valleys, was unusually

productive, and the grass grew to the height of ten feet. Our aim was to

make use of the rainy season to instruct the boys in agriculture and

horticulture and to raise sufficient grain and other food at least for

their consumption; and more than that, if possible, so that the expense

of keeping a number of boys would not rest so heavily on the mission.

This first season very little food was grown, because there had been no

land ready for sowing, but the plow came in January, and Gomo was

enabled to break two large gardens ready for sowing the following year.

[Illustration: Macha Mission Huts, 1907.]

As soon as the rainy season was at an end, building was again undertaken

by David and Gomo, together with the assistance of the native men and

schoolboys. Thatch grass had to be cut and poles hauled and seasoned.

The Matabele women were always eager to work for cloth, salt, or money,

but the Batonga women were not. It was impossible to make satisfactory

arrangements with them, either to cut grass or plaster, so that the men

and boys were obliged to do this also in connection with the rest of the

building, and they performed the work very satisfactorily.

As there was only one small hut for the schoolboys, the first building

this second year was a hut, 13 x 16 feet, for their occupancy. Then a

building answering for church and school purposes was erected. This was

16 x 30 feet, with a large veranda in front, and was an excellent

building of the kind. The seats were made of bricks, built up in rows

and plastered over, and the floor was made of earth, pounded hard and

plastered. Another building, 14 x 20 feet, of poles and mud was also

built, and was divided into two rooms. It had a veranda all around it.

We were expecting missionaries out from America, and this last hut was

for their accommodation. These three buildings were all

respectable-looking ones and required a great deal of time and labor, so

that David and Gomo were very busy and deserved much credit for their

efficiency and perseverance. In addition to the outside work the

schoolboys were instructed in sewing, and two of them in housework.

The school at first was very poorly equipped, as we had nothing but the

homemade charts and a few slates, and knew not where our books were to

come from, since we did not know the language sufficiently to make any.

Some of our needs in this respect were also supplied later. In the

latter part of 1907 Rev. E. W. Smith, a missionary at Nanzela, published

an excellent "Handbook of the Ila Language." This was a grammar and

dictionary combined, and the language was closely allied to that of the

Tonga. We secured this book about a year after we had reached Macha and

found it very helpful in acquiring the language, since the grammar and

many of the words of the two languages were similar. He also published

in that language an excellent first reader and a book of over one

hundred pages of Bible stories. This latter book is a very faithful

account of Genesis and Exodus, and contains some of the more interesting

parts of later Old Testament history. Not long after, there was also

published a book of questions containing the essentials of Christian

belief, and also many quotations from the Scriptures. With the exception

of the mode of baptism this was so essentially like our own faith that

it could be used to excellent advantage in Inquirers' Classes.

All of these books proved of inestimable value to us in school and

church work. The pupils in the school proved bright and studious, and

before the end of this year some had started in the service of the Lord.

It was almost impossible for us to spend much time out among the natives

during the rainy season, since the rivers were often swollen and

difficult to cross, and the grass was high, rendering walking difficult

and even dangerous on account of savage beasts lurking about. It is true

we seldom saw any of these animals, but that they were in the vicinity

we had no reason to doubt. Once when David was on top of the church,

putting on the rafters, a native from a neighboring kraal called to say

that three leopards were after his sheep. Our boys all ran to hunt with

spears and clubs, and some of them had a glimpse of the animals as they

disappeared in the tall grass. Another morning some of the men on coming

to work reported that they saw four lions crossing one of our plowed

fields. Occasionally we would hear a lion roaring on the opposite side

of the river, so that there was no reason to doubt the presence of

danger.

Northwestern Rhodesia, where we found ourselves, is essentially the home

of wild and savage beasts and game of all kinds. In addition to smaller

animals there are the duiker, reedbuck, hartebeest, sable antelope,

eland, kudu, and many other varieties of game. The forests are full of

apes and baboons, and the gnu, the zebra, and the buffalo are to be

found. The mammoth elephant roams at will in herds or singly, the rivers

are full of crocodiles, and the larger ones abound in the ungainly

hippopotamuses. It is the paradise of hunters, and many avail themselves

of the opportunity for sport thus afforded; others for the gain to be

had from ivory and hides.

The fact that there was not only game, but that there were also

dangerous animals lurking about, may have been the chief reason why we

never succeeded in starting a day-school at Macha. It was scarcely safe

for children to go alone back and forth to school. Even men seldom

traveled far alone, and they always went armed. A native would carry

three or four assegais, and many were supplied with guns. It is

surprising how much game they managed to kill with those old

blunderbusses.

As stated previously, the presence of animals had much to do with the

amount of kraal visiting carried on. Sister Engle and I went, however,

quite frequently after the grass was burnt off in June, accompanied by

some of the schoolboys. As we neared a village, our approach was always

heralded by the barking of dogs and the screaming of children as they

ran away to be out of reach of the _mukua_ (white person). Every village

is supplied with its quota of dogs. One day I counted twenty-four in one

small village. Nor is their presence unnecessary in this animal-ridden

country, as they often succeed in driving off ferocious animals from the

herds, and they help supply their master with game. They are, however,

generally so lean and starved looking that one would like to see a

"Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals" among the natives.

It was a long time before we could get a sight of the girls in the

kraals around us. Once, in company with Apuleni, we went to his home,

and here as everywhere we were warmly welcomed by the older people and

given an opportunity of telling them of the Savior, as well as our

limited vocabulary would allow. While we were sitting there talking to

some of the older people, Sister Engle said she thought there were some

girls in a hut near by. I arose to investigate. The older people saw the

move and laughingly told the girls of my approach; but it was too late

for them to escape. As I reached the door I saw five girls in the hut,

some of whom were nearly grown. Some began to scream and hide their

faces, and others sat trembling, not daring to look up. They appeared as

if they were afraid of being torn from their home by violence. Two of

these were sisters of the boy who accompanied us. It required much tact

and patience to finally gain the confidence of these wild children

surrounding us, and to help them realize that we would do them no harm,

but we at last won the day.

During this dry season of 1907 word was also received of a threatened

native uprising. Our first information of this condition of affairs was

received from some officers who had come from the Transvaal and were

passing through on their way north on a hunting expedition. They said

that they did not know how serious the difficulty was, except that some

of the Europeans northeast had been ordered into the government camp.

The natives around us were quiet and law-abiding and gave no indication

that they were dissatisfied. They themselves were not of a warlike

nature, and they had in the past been harrowed and many of them

ruthlessly killed by the Matabele, the Barotse, and the Baila, each in

their turn, and they were now enjoying peace and quiet under the

beneficent rule of the English. They knew that they would gain nothing

by rebelling against the English, and the only condition that would

cause them to rise would be fear of their powerful neighbors. For this

reason we could see no cause for fear. They were, however, not ignorant

of the trouble in the country, and confided to David that Lewanika

wanted to fight. The powerful tribe north of us, the Baila, were

probably as dissatisfied as any. David at first did not tell us what he

had heard, for fear of alarming us, and we too said nothing to him at

once. Later, however, he told us and we gave him our information. The

danger at that time seemed past, and we would have allowed the affair to

rest; but it was learned that our fellow missionaries were uneasy on

our account. So we wrote to an official at Kalomo to inquire if they

anticipated a native uprising. He wrote, assuring us that whatever

danger there might have been, there was no more serious cause for alarm.

[Illustration: Macha Boys and Schoolhouse.]

In September of this year a young man from Cape Town came to assist in

the work. He was a nephew of our friend and benefactress, Mrs. Lewis,

and had been impressed with the importance of pressing on the work into

the interior; hence his presence at Macha. He suffered so much with

fever, however, that he concluded it was best to return south after a

stay of only a few weeks at the mission.

On November 10 our long-looked-for colaborer, Mr. Myron Taylor, reached

Macha. This was a welcome and much-needed addition to our number. The

new building was ready for occupancy, and Brother Taylor entered

enthusiastically into the work before him. He came just at the opening

of the rainy season, and perhaps entered on the work with too much

vigor; for in the latter part of December he was laid low with the dread

African fever, and for a time his life was despaired of; but the Lord

raised him up. During that, his first rainy season, he had frequent

relapses of the fever and saw very few well days until the season was at

an end. He was not, however, discouraged, but continued at the work

whenever his health permitted.

The boys who came to attend school remained, and others also applied for

admission, so that by the end of this second year there were thirty-two

staying with us, and they were becoming quite useful in the work, and

best of all were going on to know the Lord, and were formed into an

Inquirers' Class.

This second rainy season was in some respects a repetition of the first,

except that there was more land under cultivation, and we ourselves were

better supplied with fresh vegetables and more nourishing food, and

Brother Taylor with his rifle could furnish us with game. We were at

this time becoming more familiar with the pests with which we had to

contend in this tropical Africa. We thought we had learned something of

the ravages of the white ants, or termites, while at Matopo, but the

experience there was nothing compared to that at Macha. This is not in

any sense intended as a scientific treatise; yet even from a missionary

point of view one needs to know something of the difficulties in the

way. One cannot be long in America without realizing that the ordinary

reader is woefully ignorant of some of the most common experiences of

the Africander, and in nothing is this more noticeable than in the

ravages produced by the white ants. The species to be found in Africa is

unlike that found elsewhere and is much more destructive. A knowledge of

the presence of these pests also seems to help solve some of the

characteristics of the natives in this section of the country.

These white ants are of various kinds and sizes, but they are similar,

in that they build great nests of clay which extend above the ground

from one or two to twenty or more feet. These nests are known as ant

hills, and in this part of the country some of them are not unlike

hillocks. They are all honeycombed within and down deep into the earth,

and are the homes of the various members of the community, consisting of

the large, bulky, wormlike white queen, an inch or two in length, the

savage, warlike soldiers, and the small, inoffensive-looking workers.

There are also winged ones which leave the earth in great numbers at the

opening of the season after the ground has been softened by the rain.

These soon lose their wings and again enter the ground at various places

to form new colonies.

The white ants can work only under cover, and exposure to light and the

sun is generally fatal to them, so they build small clay tunnels

underneath the ground or on top where they desire to work, and through

these they pass to and fro, carrying particles of food to store it away.

They prefer dry food, such as wood, leather, paper, clothing, straw, and

vegetation as it is becoming dry, although if these articles are not to

be had they have no objections to attacking growing trees or plants.

Many trees in our young orchard have been destroyed by their ravages.

These ants are to be found all over South Africa, but as one approaches

the equator they are more numerous and destructive and the hills are

larger.

At Macha, boxes, shoes, clothing, everything had to be kept off the

ground floor. If this precaution was not observed, perhaps in a single

night a clay coating would be formed around the sole of a shoe and it

would be greatly damaged. Sometimes they would find their way up the leg

of a box and begin destroying the clothing or articles within. As I came

out of my room one morning, the noise of the sentinels of the ants gave

signal to the workers of the approach of danger. This led to an

examination of some bookshelves which were supposed to be safe out of

the reach of the pests. Wet clay was found to be all along the end of

the bookcase, and the end books on each shelf were partly eaten, all the

work of one night. Our bedposts had to be put on zinc or into old tin

cans to keep the ants from making their way to the top and soiling the

bedclothes. Several times they started to build an ant hill on the floor

of the hut, and one morning a small hill of wet clay nearly a foot in

height was to be seen, the result of one night's labors.

Nor did they confine their ravages to the floor and the articles placed

on the floor; walls and grass roof were full of them. No article could

be hung on the wall with safety. There was a ceiling of muslin in the

house, yet one day Sister Engle, on going into her room, found an army

of white ants marching around on the counterpane of her bed, having

fallen from a broken clay tunnel in the roof. In addition to these

pests, we were greatly annoyed by insects boring into the soft wood

which formed the rafters. During this season the sound made in the quiet

hours of the night by these insects sawing caused one to think the

entire hut was alive. The ants would carry their clay tunnels into the

opening made by the borers and complete the work of destruction. For a

time the ceiling became so heavy with falling sawdust and clay, that it

was necessary to open it about every two weeks and remove the dust,

which almost filled a small tub each time. Many more incidents might be

cited. We were forced to admit that, at least during the rainy season, a

large portion of our time was occupied in protecting our huts and goods

from the ravages of the ants.

[Illustration: The Last Invitation.]

Their work did not stop with the house. We would think that the grain

and meal were placed high and secure out of their reach, only to find

that they had formed a channel and destroyed a lot of grain. At first

when some boys came for school there was no suitable place prepared for

their accommodation, and they were obliged to lie on the floor. They

would occasionally come and show where the cuticle had been removed from

some portion of the body during the night. In the garden there was also

difficulty in protecting the growing crops. The cornstalk would be eaten

off and fall to the ground, where the ants would complete the work of

destruction; so that from the time corn began to be filled until it was

ripe, it was generally necessary to keep several boys most of the time

gathering the fallen corn. Continual vigilance was needful, or in an

unguarded moment something about the place would be destroyed.

The varieties of ants in the country are many and diverse, but we will

mention only one other kind, to which we were introduced during the

early days of the mission. One night some of the boys said they could

not sleep on account of ants coming into their hut. We supposed they

referred to large black ants, which often came in armies and made a raid

on white ants to carry them off for food. These black ones are very

troublesome when disturbed, and the boys were told to occupy another hut

for the remainder of the night. Again the boys spoke of being disturbed

and showed some small, reddish ants with vicious-looking heads, which

were marching in a straight line through the yard. But these looked

innocent and little attention was paid to the matter. Then one morning a

hen and two young guinea fowls, confined in a pen, were found to be

dead and covered with these insects. We concluded that they had died and

the ants were eating the carcass, but the boys assured us that the ants

had killed them. The pen was immediately burnt, together with as many of

the ants as possible. Another night the sheep began to bleat most

piteously. The lantern was lighted and the boys called to see what was

the difficulty, and while waiting for the boys I approached the pen.

Almost instantly needles seemed to penetrate my body in various places.

I gave the lantern to the boys to let out the sheep, while Sister Engle

and I hastened to the house, where she helped to remove the vicious

little insects. After that experience there was no further question in

my mind as to whether those ants could kill fowls or other animals.

These are called the army ants. Once it required two days for an army of

them continually on the march to pass through our yard. Fortunately we

have not been troubled much with this variety since that time, but in

some parts of Africa they are very numerous. Human bodies are sometimes

thrown to them, and even live ones, as a punishment in supposed

witchcraft.

We had been in correspondence with some of the Primitive Methodist

missionaries at Nanzela, from whom we had purchased books for the school

and ourselves; and we were eager to visit them and learn something of

their work. About the 1st of May we arranged to make the journey of

sixty miles and pay them a visit. Brother Taylor was here to take charge

of the journey, so we took the wagon with the ten oxen and a number of

schoolboys, as well as David, leaving Gomo in charge of the mission

during our absence. This was a new and untried road in a northwesternly

direction, and required four day of hard traveling to make it. On the

way we occasionally had an opportunity of preaching Christ to the

natives.

The kindly welcome received from Rev. and Mrs. Price, who were then at

Nanzela, more than repaid us for the tediousness of the journey. We

spent a most delightful four days at their mission and learned to know

something of our neighbors and of the work being accomplished at this

oldest station in this part of the country. They were working among the

Baila, and also some Barotse who were living in that section of the

country. The trip, however, proved a most unfortunate one for us, as we

were informed that we had passed through a small district of the tsetse

fly on the way. The result of this will be given in another chapter.

On account of the presence of these pests, as well as for other reasons,

a very common method of travel and transportation in this part of the

country is by native carriers. A native will carry fifty pounds of

goods, so that it requires forty persons to transport a ton of goods.

This means is employed by officials, and it is somewhat more expeditious

than by wagon. It is often not very satisfactory, however, and it is

difficult to secure natives who are willing to carry, unless they are

almost forced into service. The wages too, eight cents a day, is small,

but where the tsetse fly abounds this is the only safe method of

transportation.

CHAPTER FIVE

Additional Reinforcements. Preparing to Build

In June, 1908, we were pleased to receive additional reinforcements in

the persons of Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Wenger, who had lately arrived from

America and felt called to the work at Macha. Accompanying them were

Elder and Mrs. Steigerwald, who came to pay us a visit and to see about

the work.

There was now a strong force of missionaries at the place, and it was

thought that better and more permanent buildings should be erected. The

mission had been in progress nearly two years, and David and Gomo had

been active both dry seasons in erecting buildings--and they were good

buildings of their kind. From what has already been given, however, of

the ravages of the white ants, it can easily be seen that such buildings

were very unsatisfactory and of short duration. To make others of the

same kind would require the missionaries to be continually building.

My opinion in reference to missionaries' houses and surroundings had

gradually and materially undergone a change since I first entered the

mission field. My firm conviction on entering had been that missionaries

should be as approachable as possible, and that they should endeavor to

get on a level with their people; not in their dirt and filth, not in

their ignorance and degradation, but, leaving out these essentially

objectionable features, they should seek to imitate as much as possible

Him Who had no certain dwelling-place and went about doing good. He

became one with the people wherever He went, "Made Himself of no

reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant." He of course is

the Great Exemplar, after Whom the missionaries, His messengers, are to

pattern. The true missionary should and does esteem it a privilege to

endure any necessary privation and hardship in the cause of the Master

Whom he loves and seeks to imitate. Otherwise it would be impossible to

carry the Gospel to the heathen. But our God is a wise God, and has

promised wisdom to His children and to His messengers, which He expects

them to use on the mission field as well as elsewhere; so that they may

adapt themselves to their surroundings and do that which will best

advance His Kingdom.

The missionary goes to his field of labor. He builds himself huts of

poles, mud, and grass. He does this carefully, that he may protect

himself from the weather, the wild animals, and from the mosquitoes

which bring fever. He provides his hut with furniture, manufactured by

his own hand, so that it looks quite cozy and comfortable, and the poor

natives as they look inside may conclude that if heaven is no better

than this, it is at least worth striving for. The missionary himself for

the time feels quite satisfied and happy in his surroundings and

concludes that the place is good enough for anyone.

He opens his door and invites his dear dark friends to enter and sit and

talk with him--a privilege which they greatly appreciate and the

missionary also enjoys. Are not these the people for whom Christ died?

Are not these the poor people to whom he is bringing the privileges of

the Gospel? He loves to embrace every opportunity of getting into their

hearts, and he feels keenly everything which separates and tends to form

a barrier between them.

Time passes, and the rainy season comes. Perhaps the huts become damp

and even mouldy in places, and gradually, as the ants continue their

ravages, the walls crack and other difficulties arise. He is forced to

be continually on his guard to protect himself. Mosquitoes enter, and he

is incapacitated for work, by fever and other sickness. His health

becomes undermined and his appetite gives way. The coarse food of the

natives, if he has been using it, becomes distasteful and hurtful.

Perhaps, if there is no way out of the difficulty, his life pays the

penalty and his work on earth for God and the natives is stopped. This

is no fancy picture. It has been repeated over and over again in this

great "White Man's Graveyard."

Suppose, however, that by taking plenty of quinine and having

considerable vitality to start with, he survives and continues

successfully to combat disease; he soon finds that he must build a

separate hut in which to meet the natives, or his house will be overrun

with vermin and he cannot live in it. His hut, too, soon becomes a

hiding place for snakes, rats, and lizards. He may pick up a piece of

furniture and find a cobra lying beneath it, or go into the little

kitchen and find a deadly puff adder beneath the cooking kettle. Even if

he has in building kept as near to the natives as possible, they are in

no haste to get rid of their filth and improve their manner of living.

They have not yet seen the advantages of exerting themselves to that

extent, unless they are members of the mission family and compelled to

wash. Even then they may have conscientious scruples in reference to the

matter, as one of our best boys at Matopo did. He was frequently

remonstrated with for not keeping his clothing clean. He said that clean

clothing made him feel proud.

Again, the missionary soon sees that his hut is going to pieces, and he

must go over the laborious task every two or three years of building

another, and at the same time constantly fight the ants, so that his

life is one of long struggle with disease, pests, and building. When and

how is he to give the Gospel? He concludes that he must make brick,

build a house, and put on an iron roof, that it may be better protected

from the mosquitoes and furnish good rain water. He makes a tank, so

that he may have good drinking water instead of the muddy, disease-laden

stuff which comes from the river. It will make more work for a time, but

when completed he sees some result of his labor.

These reasons, any or all of them, are sufficient in the eyes of the

missionary for building a good, substantial house, but there are other

reasons, quite as patent to him, but they may not be to one who has

never been in his place. The natives like to see their missionary build

good dwellings, for then they think he has come to stay, and because he

has come to stay and is willing to work and to train the natives, he

sometimes has a better house than some of his white neighbors. And we

are loath to think, as some affirm, that it is a reproach to be better

housed, if he himself builds it.

There is another and more subtle reason for a good house, and one which

the writer could not enter into until the last few years. If one has

access to a town he has an opportunity to see other civilized places and

has a change of scenery and companionship, which is both interesting and

beneficial. Especially is this so to one who is continually surrounded

with uncouth barbarism in its many forms. When, however, one is far

removed from all civilized associations and sees nothing that is

beautiful and uplifting, week after week, month after month, year after

year; when all this time only dirt and squalor meet the eye as he steps

off his own premises, his range of vision becomes so narrowed, his brain

so benumbed by the monotony, that he feels he can endure it no longer.

He is not tired of his services for the Master; he is not tired of the

dark faces surrounding him; but his spiritual vision has become so

befogged that, as he rises before the people to give them the message,

he feels that he cannot give what he longs to. He cannot even take hold

of God by faith in prayer as he did, and he must get away for a change.

But what has this to do with a good house? Just this: If one has a good

home and pleasant surroundings, good and helpful literature and a few of

the things which minister to the aesthetic as well as to the spiritual

part of his nature, he has a change, at least, in his own home, and when

he can snatch time, from the many duties which continually confront him,

for a little quiet, the surroundings are pleasing and restful. He is

then just that much better fitted to cope with the opposite conditions,

and he can cope with them for a longer time and do better work for the

Master. On the other hand, missionaries are human and make many

mistakes, and we in the mission field need also to guard against the

other extreme of spending too much time in beautifying our surroundings

and making ourselves comfortable, to the neglect of that God-given

message.

Even under the best of surroundings, physically, the missionary has

enough to contend with. Circumstances over which he has no control,

difficulties which far outweigh any already mentioned, meet him on every

hand. As Rev. Stewart, of China, says, "'Agonia,' that word so often on

St. Paul's lips--what did it mean? Did it not just mean the thousand

wearinesses, and deeper, the stirrings, the travailings, the bitter

disappointments, the deaths oft of a missionary's life?"

The natives often are so indifferent, so disinclined to exert

themselves, that, after months and years of weary, persistent labor

among them, the missionary often feels that little is accomplished. He

dare build hopes on none but God, and must accept seeming success or

defeat as alike from Him. This continual drain on his system is quite

sufficient, without having to combat with poor dwellings, poor food, and

unhealthful surroundings.

After the Brethren came, they concluded to start at once to make the

preparations for building. Elder Steigerwald had had experience in this

line of work, so he generously offered to start the rest in brickmaking.

After a few weeks' visit he and Sister Steigerwald returned home and

Sister Engle decided to accompany them for a change. David and Gomo also

had been absent from their people for two years and wished to return,

the former for a visit and the latter, perhaps permanently. We were very

sorry to see all these leave at once, even for a few months, and

especially David, whose assistance in the language and in interpretation

was greatly needed.

[Illustration: Making Brick at Macha.]

[Illustration: Brick Kiln. Mr. Jesse Wenger and Helpers.]

The Brethren Taylor and Wenger, with the assistance of the schoolboys

and some other natives, moulded and burnt a large kiln of brick. Brother

Taylor attended to the moulding and Brother Wenger to building the kiln.

This gave the boys training in another line of industrial work, and at

the end of about six weeks a lot of excellent brick were ready for

building. Unfortunately there was no money on hand to build a house, for

the Board had not been informed of our needs in this respect, since

brickmaking had been undertaken rather suddenly. It was therefore

necessary to postpone building a house until the next dry season.

Brother Wenger, however, erected two small brick buildings, with

thatched roofs. One was for grinding and storing grain, and the other a

two-roomed cottage. In the latter a room was fitted up for the

occupancy of himself and wife, so that we were prepared for another

rainy season.

One thing which was a serious handicap in the building and work that

season was the condition of the oxen. After our return from Nanzela, in

May, the oxen gave no indication of being bitten by the tsetse fly.

Nearly a month later they were driven to Kalomo, a distance of about

forty-five miles, and brought out a heavy load of goods on the arrival

of our colaborers. They were also made use of in hauling sand for

brickmaking; and in July, when Brother Steigerwalds returned home, they

were again driven to the station. This time they made use of a new road

and went east to Choma Station, a distance of only about thirty-six

miles. By this time the oxen were showing signs of being bitten, and as

there was no cure for them, they gradually became weaker and died, one

by one, until we had lost nine, the last ones not dying until about six

months after they were bitten. The fly injects a parasite into the

blood, which gradually absorbs the red corpuscles, hence the lingering

death.

It was a serious loss to the mission at the time, as they had been in

use almost constantly in farming, hauling, and bringing out supplies. In

the Syracuse plow it was necessary to use all ten of the oxen in this

heavy clay soil, and also in hauling the wagon.

We still had a few, but there was not sufficient money on hand to

purchase others at once. With eight ill-matched oxen, Brother Taylor

undertook to go to Choma in November for the purpose of bringing out a

six months' supply of goods and provisions, which had been sent up from

Bulawayo. He took along five of the largest schoolboys to assist in

carrying the goods across the bridgeless rivers. To add to the

difficulty of the trip, grass was scarce at that season of the year, so

that there was little food for the oxen. A little rain also fell while

he was away and made the road muddy.

On returning with the load he was able to get within twelve miles of

home when the oxen could go no farther. He sent four of the boys each

with a load of goods to the mission, and a call for help. Several native

men and about twenty schoolboys were sent to his assistance, and after

they reached the wagon, Brother Taylor concluded to endeavor to come a

little nearer home before resting for the night. Each of the natives

carried a load, and he himself carried one hundred pounds of flour and

drove the oxen. They came about two and one-half miles farther and then

camped for the night. A fire was kindled, but as the night was dark and

misty the fire burned low. The boys lay around this and Brother Taylor

on the open wagon. He was aroused several times during the night by a

disturbance among the oxen. Thinking it was caused by one of the new

oxen which had given him some trouble, he arose at three different times

during the latter part of the night to quiet them, but the darkness was

too great for him to see what was the trouble. The last time it was

dawning a little in the east, and he thought he discerned the form of an

animal moving toward an ant hill in the vicinity. The boys were aroused

and soon had a fire; and as the morning came they discovered by the

spoors that two lions had passed along within a few feet of where the

boys lay and had gored one of the oxen during the night. These were what

Brother Taylor had been trying to chase. The reader can imagine the

thankfulness of all of them, as well as of ourselves, when it was

discovered how wonderfully the Lord had preserved them all from harm. We

rejoiced when the goods as well as Brother Taylor and the boys were all

safely at home, but the heavy wagon had to remain for a time on the

veldt before it could be brought to the mission.

When the news of the misfortune to the oxen reached America the Lord

inspired some of His children to send special donations for the purchase

of others, and even before an account of the trouble had reached there

some had heard of the need by way of the Throne and had sent money.

CHAPTER SIX

Evangelistic and Other Labors

During this dry season the spiritual part of the work, together with

school and kraal-visiting, was not neglected, even though most of those

who could speak the language were away.

There were thirty-two boys in school, and they were doing good work. A

translation of the Gospel of St. Mark had been printed by Rev. Smith,

and an Ila hymn book by Rev. Chapman, of the same mission, and these

were both very useful in our work. After our boys had finished the Ila

books, we concluded to allow them to continue the Scriptures in the Zulu

Testament, as it is always easier for the natives to pass from one

native language into another than from English into their language. We

found later that this use of the Zulu Testament proved very

satisfactory, both to ourselves and the boys. Since we were familiar

with that language, and they readily acquired it, their knowledge was of

great assistance to us in translating portions of the Scripture into

their tongue, and they were soon capable of interpreting for Elder

Steigerwald and others who came to us from Southern Rhodesia. Here, as

at Matopo, every day and all the day were the Scriptures studied and

Christ held up, and morning, noon, and night we met in worship and

explanation of the Bible. The great aim, both in school and out, was to

produce sincere and ripe Christians, who should become teachers and

evangelists of their people.

[Illustration: Macha Mission Dwelling House.]

Other studies were gradually introduced. Arithmetic seems to be always a

difficult study for most of them, but some of them compared very

favorably in that branch with others whom we had instructed. They had

their own peculiar way at first of announcing whether their problems

were correct or not. If they were correct the pupils would answer "_Wa

pona_" (it is alive), and if incorrect they would say "_Wa fwa_" (it is

dead). Although they sat side by side in the schoolroom and could easily

look on the slates of their neighbors, they were generally very honest

and independent in their work and did not attempt to copy.

English also was introduced after they could read understandingly their

own language. The opportunity of learning English is a privilege which

all natives covet, as it seems to be more important in their eyes and

more European. In some respects this _importance_ is one of the

objectionable features about teaching it. Then too the native often is

dull in learning it, but we need interpreters, and the value

intellectually of this and arithmetic and kindred studies is not to be

despised. English often aids the native in securing better positions

with better pay when he goes to work among the Europeans; for go, at

least for a while, he will. Some Europeans prefer natives who can speak

and understand a little English. On the other hand, some white men, who

have themselves a little knowledge of the native tongue, prefer, for

their own purpose, that natives do not understand English. They want the

native to understand only enough to go at their bidding and "keep his

place," which is somewhat similar in their eyes with the lower order of

animals. This class is forever a foe to the missionary and to the

education and christianization of the natives. If one who has to some

extent been educated, goes out into the centers of civilization and

there, swallowed in the maelstrom of vice which surrounds him, imitates

his new white teachers, they will point to him and say, "Yes, there is

one of your mission boys. That is what missionary work does." Many a

well-meaning native, who was making a fair progress toward Christian

life, can trace his downfall to such teachers. If that class of

Europeans would remain at the centers of civilization, it would still

be more tolerable for the missionary, but often the towns are too moral

for them, and they seek to go into the region of raw natives. As one

glibly remarked, "When it becomes too civilized for me here, I'll go

farther inland."

Mr. Naylor, who has had an opportunity of studying at first hand the

work all over Africa, says, "In Africa conscienceless trade, social

vice, race hatred, and religious intolerance have freer scope because so

far removed from the restraining influence of Christian public

sentiment."

This seeming digression from the subject can be excused only on the

ground that it is one of the most difficult and perplexing problems the

missionary has to face, and every one coming into the country in such a

capacity is certain to meet it in one form or another. We are pleased to

add, however, that the missionary also finds Europeans who are generous

and helpful and favorable to the work; and the number of this class is

increasing, as the aim of the missionary and the results of his efforts

are more clearly understood.

The attendance at church services was constantly increasing, and those

present on Sunday sometimes reached 140 in number. Kraal-visiting also

was carried on as opportunity afforded. Before Sister Engle left we had

made a visit to Mianda, the home of Tom and Jim and of several other of

our boys. This was about seven miles from Macha and too far for some of

the older people to walk to services. As the boys were still with us,

those in the kraal had not yet received any light. They appeared to be

much pleased to see us, but when we attempted to point them to the

Savior they seemed so dark and so unable to grasp spiritual things. This

was especially true of Tom's mother, who sat in a little dark hut and

was afflicted with a very sore eye. She had such a hopeless expression

on her face, that the picture haunted us for many days afterwards.

When Tom, who had accepted the Light as far as he knew, had been at the

mission fifteen months, he desired to return home, and did so. A few

months after he had returned to his home, one day, in company with two

of the schoolboys, I went about four miles from the mission to visit

some of the people. Quite unexpectedly we came upon Tom's mother in one

of the huts. She was there visiting some of her friends. As usual, I

began telling her of Jesus, and her face brightened immediately as she

exclaimed:

"Oh, yes! Siwesi [Tom] told me that. He said we should not worship the

spirits any more; we should only worship God above [pointing upward]. He

reads from his Book and sings and prays. I enjoy hearing of those

things." This woman had never been at the mission, and this was the

first indication, apart from the boys staying with us, that we had of

Light entering the home. Her eagerness and evident sincerity showed

plainly that she believed and was accepting the truth, and that the

Light was coming through one of the schoolboys. The contrast between

this picture and the first sight of this woman was so marked, and the

joy of realizing that a ray of Light was entering one home at least,

was so great, that as I retraced my steps homeward I kept saying to

myself, "It pays, it pays."

Brother Taylor felt especially called to spend his time in evangelistic

work among the villages, and whenever he could snatch time from other

duties pressing upon him he went out among the people, and in this

manner a number of villages were visited.

Many of the people at this time were destitute of food, as the previous

season had not produced good crops. Many of them were living on fruits,

roots, and plants, and much sickness was the result. With our large

family, and only a moderate supply of grain, we were unable to give them

much assistance, but we did what we could. Had they been willing to

bring their small children to us we would have cared for them until

other food was grown. One mother did bring her little boy, Halikumba,

who was four or five years of age and nearly starved. He enjoyed his new

home so much, and the abundance of food it supplied, that he would run

and hide if he saw his mother come for fear she would take him away. He

was such a little mite of humanity that we were afraid of placing him in

the huts with the other boys, and for a time cared for him in the house.

David returned to Macha in January, 1909, ready to enter again with

enthusiasm into the work, and Brother Taylor concluded that the way was

now opened for him to spend additional time in evangelistic labor, so he

decided to take several boys and spend some time among the Baila north

of us. This is a bold and warlike tribe, living in large villages, and

much addicted to drink, dancing, and carousals. Rows, and even murders,

are not infrequent among them, and it required some courage to venture

into their territory. The Lord gave the Brother open doors, however, and

some attentive listeners, and we believe seed was sown that will bear

fruit in eternity.

He had some difficulties to encounter, which were not so pleasant. It is

a low, flat country; and as he was there in the midst of the rainy

season, heavy rains flooded the country on all sides, so that he was

frequently obliged to wade the water in going from one village to

another. After two months of arduous labor, his health gave way and he

was carried back sick to the mission. It required some time before he

fully recovered from the exposure and hardships of the trip.

These experiences are not pleasant, but they are incidental to the

country, and every missionary feels that he should be ready at all times

to endure for Christ's sake and the salvation of souls what men are

going through every day for money or a home.

Brother Wenger also had been suffering greatly in health while at the

mission, both from nervous disorders and from fever. Notwithstanding

this, he decided to begin building a house, since the rains were about

over and funds had been received for this purpose. David also was ready

to help in the work. With the assistance of the boys they brought

together stones and began the foundation. Near the mission there were

very few building stones, but this need had been supplied in a rather

unexpected manner. The brethren had undertaken to dig a well the

previous season, but on coming into contact with a great deal of stone,

which necessitated blasting, they went down only forty-five feet and

finally concluded the task was useless. The only beneficial result of

their labors was the stones which had been taken out of the well, and

which furnished a large part of the material for the foundation of the

house.

[Illustration: Eld. Steigerwald and Mr. Doner with Carriers on Their

Trip North of Macha.]

Brother Wenger laid the foundation of a house 41 x 16 feet, with a wing

18 x 10 feet, and began work on the brick. Unfortunately, while this was

in progress, his health gave way repeatedly, and he and Sister Wenger

concluded that it was advisable for them to leave for Bulawayo and

finally for America, and David continued to work at the house. Brother

Taylor had sufficiently recovered from his illness by this time to be

able to take the Wengers to the station. He then waited there a few

days for the train from the south, and brought back with him Elder

Steigerwald, Mr. Doner, Miss Engle, and Gomo, all of whom we were

expecting.

He was absent from the mission eight days, and during that time I had an

attack of fever and was obliged to be in bed for a week. This was my

first attack, and as it was quite severe, it enabled me to sympathize

better with those who had been sick so much. We were very glad to

welcome Sister Engle and the rest back to work. The two brethren from

Bulawayo were on a tour of exploration north, but they generously

decided to stay and assist Brother Taylor to finish the brick work of

the new house. This timely assistance was greatly appreciated by us all,

and that part of the building was completed in two weeks, after which

they proceeded north.