YARRABAH
There is an old Persian story, which some of you may know, of a
wonderful magic carpet on which one only needed to stand in order to be
spirited away to some other land to which one wanted to go and see
strange scenes and unwonted sights.
Let us take our place on this magic carpet and utter the correct
formulæ, and in a few moments we shall be far away in distant and
beautiful Yarrabah on the North-eastern shores of Queensland. The name
means "beautiful spot," and it is, indeed, a lovely part of wild
Australia where the tropic sun looks down upon beautiful palm-trees and
where birds of the gayest plumage make their home, and where the coasts
are washed with coral seas.
[Illustration: GIRLS' CLASS AT YARRABAH SCHOOL]
Yarrabah is a mission reserve which the Queensland Government gave to
the Australian Church about twenty-five years ago. It covers about sixty
thousand acres and no white man except the missionaries is allowed to
make a home upon it. Its beginnings were most discouraging, and nothing
but the indomitable faith of the first missionaries could have kept them
to their work. The tribes settled on the "reserve" were extremely
fierce, and within a week or two of the actual founding of the mission
three men of the tribe were killed and eaten. The native who was more
responsible than any others for these acts of murder and cannibalism was
some years afterwards converted to Christ, baptized and confirmed, and
has for years been a respected and trusted Christian. It was among such
tribes that the missionaries went and made their home. Thousands of
people would have been afraid to have ventured amongst them, but the
missionaries (and there was a lady in their number) were so full of the
love of Jesus and so earnest in their desires to win these poor degraded
tribes for Him, that they never stopped to think about being afraid. It
was very different to going and settling down in some town or village in
China or India where there were other white people near and the dangers
were not so great. There were very few white people, and probably no
white women at all, nearer than Cairns, thirty miles away to the North.
Only the wild monotonous bush was around them and fierce cannibals from
whom at any moment a poisoned spear might come. At first all the
missionaries could do was wait. A rough little house was put up close to
the sea where they lived, said their prayers, and waited. After a while
a few natives came and built their _mias_ near the missionaries' home.
They soon came to see that these were kind, good people who only wanted
to be friendly, and little by little they began to give their
confidence. Soon a little hospital was erected where sick aboriginals
were attended to and healed, and a little school where the children whom
their parents allowed to come and live with the missionaries were
taught. To-day, about twenty-two years after its first founding,
Yarrabah is one of the most wonderful industrial missions in the whole
Island Continent. Please take note of those words "Industrial missions,"
for I want you to remember that it has been found that it is very little
good indeed teaching the children or the men and women of wild Australia
about the redeeming love of our Lord Jesus Christ unless they are at the
same time taught the duty of honest and useful work. The mere preaching
of the Gospel and the provision of a place of worship which would be
enough among a more civilized people is very far from enough in wild
Australia. So all missions in that land are what we call industrial.
If we visited Yarrabah to-day, by means of our magic carpet, what should
we see?
First we should see the head station, and we should be told that there
were five other settlements, little Christian villages in charge of an
aboriginal catechist, within a few miles of the head station, and that
altogether no less than 350 natives and half-castes were living happy,
contented, well-conducted lives.
The first visit some of us would be inclined to pay would be to the
school where we should see quite a number of dusky little scholars. The
head teacher is a white--one of the missionaries--but most of the
teaching is done by several excellent and fully-qualified aboriginals
who themselves learned their very first lessons in that same school and
were once wild blacks. Some might like to hear the children read and
would probably be quite surprised to find that they were able to acquit
themselves quite as well as British children of the same age. This would
be true, too, of their writing. Some of the older children would be able
to bring out some really beautiful specimens of penmanship for our
admiration. They also do sums, but these, perhaps, they do not take to
quite so kindly as some of the other subjects. Still, we should probably
find that they do almost as well as children of other lands of the same
age. But the subject which is regarded as of supreme importance at
Yarrabah school is the religious teaching. If the teachers were asked to
quote some text which might be taken as the motto of their school I
think they would choose those words from the last verse of the
twenty-eighth chapter of the Book of Job, "The fear of the Lord that is
wisdom," and they would tell us that the most important of all knowledge
is the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is why the Christians at
Yarrabah have not only attained considerable intellectual development
but have also, in many cases, become true saints. A few years ago at an
examination in religious subjects, open to all the children in
Queensland, white and coloured alike, the whole of the twenty-three
first-class certificates which were awarded, were won by children of
Yarrabah.
Perhaps as we came out of the schools we should like to pass into the
homes where the children live. Many of them, however, remain at school
as boarders, their parents living in one or other of the little
villages on the reserve. How different these homes are to the rough,
uncomfortable humpies described in Chapter IV which form the homes of
the poor children of the wilderness. Each home at Yarrabah is a little
cottage of wood and iron with two or more rooms which has been built by
the people themselves. It stands in an enclosed garden in which mangoes,
sweet potatoes and other vegetables are growing and for part of the year
beautiful flowers bloom brightly. In some of the cottages the little
flower patch is the children's especial care. Everything within the
house is beautifully neat and clean. The older girls help their mothers
to keep it so. They wash and make and mend, and as many of them dress
entirely in white there is plenty of work to do.
After our visit to some of the homes we pass into the little Church
dedicated in the name of the first British martyr, St. Alban. The very
name reminds us of that for which the church stands. It stands there to
turn the heathens into good soldiers of Jesus Christ like St. Alban. It
is far too small for the needs of the little community which lives in
its neighbourhood, and we hope before very long to be able to build a
much larger and better one. It is of white wood and across the chancel
is carried a scroll with these words upon it, "Lift up thy prayer for
the remnant that is left."
Services are held in it every day at 7 A.M. and 7 P.M., and nearly every
one comes. On one side are seated the boys and young men, on the other
the girls and unmarried women. The missionaries and the married couples
take their places at the western end, while the babies and infants squat
and occasionally crawl about on the floor. Most of them sit or stand
very reverently with folded arms. A little black curly-headed boy plays
the harmonium, and the choir enters noiselessly. Their feet are bare,
their long surplices reach nearly to the ground, their scarlet loin
cloths sometimes showing through them. An aboriginal catechist in all
probability leads the service, also wearing a surplice. Everything is
done exactly as it would be in an English village church. On Sundays the
psalms as well as the canticles are sung. On other days they are
sometimes read but very, very slowly, for it must be remembered that
only the younger members of the congregation, those brought up on the
mission, are able to read. The lessons from Holy Scripture, too, are
read very slowly. The reverence and devotion of all alike, the hearty
singing not only with the lips but with the heart, are a wonderful
illustration of what the Lord Jesus Christ has done for these dusky
children of a savage and primitive people.
After church each morning there is an interval for breakfast and then a
parade for work. The children pass into the school, the men and boys to
their allotted tasks on the farm or in the different workshops, the
women and unmarried girls to their various domestic duties. All are
given something to do and all are required to perform their tasks to
the satisfaction of those set over them. Yet I do not think anyone would
talk about "tasks" at Yarrabah. There is a suggestion of unpleasantness,
of an imposition about the word, but no one looks at work in that light
at Yarrabah. It has become almost second nature and a delight to them
here. Sometimes, of course, when the weather is very hot and close and
sultry they do not work as well as at other times, but what white man or
child would not prefer to rest under such circumstances? Even the
tiniest children like to feel they are doing something and very soon
learn to run about and pick up rubbish and fallen leaves and so help to
keep the settlement clean and tidy.
Up on the hillside is the hospital where the sick children, as well as
the men and women are carefully nursed and cared for by a kind black
matron and nurses.
There is a branch of the Church Lad's Brigade, and a most efficient
brass band.
[Illustration: BATHING OFF JETTY AT YARRABAH]
After dinner comes play-time for a while in which all are free to amuse
themselves in any way they like. Then work again till service time at 7.
Then follows supper, then night prayers in their homes, then bed. The
life at Yarrabah might well be described as a life of honourable work,
and innocent recreation hallowed by Christian worship. What a wonderful
contrast it all is to the wild undisciplined life of the aboriginals in
the bush. The contrast almost reminds us of that wonderful story in the
Gospels which tells of the poor wild maniac of Gergesa whose savage
yells were the terror of the whole surrounding neighbourhood. People
were afraid to go near him, and "no man could tame him." He wore no
clothes, he had no fixed dwelling-place, and often cut himself with
stones. But One came where He was and had compassion on him and
commanded the evil spirits to leave him. The Voice was a Voice of Power,
and when next we see him he is "sitting at the feet of Jesus clothed and
in his right mind." Is not this just exactly what has happened at
Yarrabah where the Lord Jesus has indeed worked a wonderful miracle,
delivering those poor wild aborigines from the bondage of evil spirits
and causing them to sit in love and wonder as changed men "at His feet"?