But Kai Bok-su had no sooner returned than he was off again. He was not
one of that sort who could settle down after an achievement, content to
rest for a little. He seemed to forget all about what had been done
and was "up and at it again." If he "did not know when he was beaten,"
neither did he seem to know when he was successful; and like Alexander
the Great he was always sighing for new worlds to conquer, yes, and
marching off and conquering them too.
But every time he returned to his work at Tamsui from one of these
tours, it was borne in upon him more forcibly every day that his
faithful assistant who was left in charge, could not long shoulder his
work. Mr. Jamieson was fighting a losing battle with ill health. The
terrible experiences during the war year, the hard work, and the trying
Formosan climate had all combined against him. His brave spirit could
not always sustain the body that was growing gradually weaker, and
one day, a dark, sad day, the devoted soul was set free from the poor
pain-racked body. He had given eight years of hard, faithful work to the
study of the language and to the service of the Master in the mission.
Mrs. Jamieson returned to Canada, and once more Dr. Mackay faced the
work, unaided except by native preachers. But he was not daunted even by
this bereavement, for he always lived in the perfect faith that God was
on his side.
And then, he had by this time three new assistants in the mission-house
on the bluff. They did not even guess that they were any help to him,
for they could never go with him on his mission tours. But by their
sweet merry ways and their joyous welcome to father, when he returned,
they did help him greatly, and made his home-comings a delight.
"How many did you baptize, father?" was baby George's inevitable
question on his father's return. For already the wise toddler had
learned something of the bitter enmity of the heathen world, and knew
that converts meant friends. Then father's home-coming meant presents
too, wonderful things, bows and arrows, rare curios for the museum in
the college, and, once, a pair of the funniest monkeys in the world,
which proved most entertaining playthings for the little boy and his two
sisters. Another time the father brought home a young bear to keep the
monkeys company, but they were not at all polite to their guest, for
they made poor bruin's life miserable by teasing him. They would torment
him until he would stamp with rage. But he was not always badly used,
for when the three children would come out to feed him, he was very
happy, and he would show his pleasure by putting his head between his
paws and rolling over and over like a big ball of fur. And he always
seemed quite proud of his performance when his three little keepers
shrieked with laughter.
The next year after Mr. Jamieson's death the empty mission-house was
once more filled. In September the Rev. Mr. William and Mrs. Gauld
sailed from Canada, and with their arrival Dr. Mackay took new heart.
The new missionaries had learned the language and their work was well
under way when the time came round once more for Dr. Mackay to go back
to Canada for a year's rest. This time there was quite a little party
went with him: his wife, their three children, and Koa Kau, one of his
students.
Among those left to assist Mr. Gauld, there was none he relied upon more
than A Hoa. Mr. Gauld, at the close of his second year's work, wrote of
this fellow worker: "The longer and better I know him, the more I can
love him, trust his honesty, and respect his judgment. He knows his
own people, from the governor of the island to the ragged opium-smoking
beggar, and has influence with them all."
There were many others besides A Hoa to render the missionary faithful
help; among them Sun-a and Tan He, the latter pastor of the church of
Sin-tiam; and just because Kai Bok-su was away they worked the harder,
that he might receive a good report of them on his return.
The separation was longer this time, for Dr. Mackay wished to send his
children to school, and he decided that they would remain in Canada
two years. He was made Moderator of the General Assembly, too, and the
Church at home needed him to stir them up to a greater desire to help
those beyond the seas.
While he was working and preaching in Canada, his heart turned always to
his beloved Formosa, and letters from the friends there were among his
greatest pleasures. A Hoa's of course, were doubly welcome. Pastor Giam,
the name by which he was now called, was Mr. Gauld's right-hand helper
in those days, and once he went alone on a tour away to the eastern
shore. While there he had an adventure of which he wrote to Kai Bok-su.
"The other morning while walking on the seashore I saw a sailing-vessel
slowly drifting shoreward and in danger of being wrecked, for there was
a fog and a heavy sea. I hastened back to the chapel and beat the
drum to call the villagers to worship. As soon as it was over I asked
converts and heathen to go in their fishing-boats as quickly as possible
and let the sailors know they need not fear savages there, and if they
wished to come ashore a chapel would be given them to stay in. The
whole crew came ashore in the boats at once. I gave your old room to the
captain, his wife and child, and other accommodation to the rest. I
then hurried away to a mandarin and asked him to send men to protect the
ship."
When Kai Bok-su read the story and remembered that, twenty-five years
earlier, the crew of that vessel would have been murdered and their ship
plundered, he exclaimed with joy, "Blessed Christianity! Surely,
Blessings abound where'er He reigns!"
A Hoa had another tale to tell. One afternoon he had a strange
congregation in that little chapel. There were one hundred and forty-six
native converts and twenty-one Europeans. These were made up of seven
nationalities, British, American, French, Danish, Turkish, Swiss, and
Norwegian. Their ship was from America and was bound for Hongkong with
coal-oil.
They were amazed at seeing a pretty, neat chapel away in this
wild, remote place, which they had always supposed was overrun by
head-hunters, and indeed it was just that little chapel that had made
the great change. These men now entered it and joined the natives in
worshiping the true God, where, only a few years before, their blood
would have stained the sands.
A Hoa told them something of the great Kai Bok-su and the struggles
he had had with savages and other enemies, when he first came to this
region. The visitors were very much interested and did not wonder that
the name "Kai Bok-su" was held in such reverence. When they left, the
captain presented the little chapel with a bell, a lamp, and a mirror
which were on board his ship.
The long months of separation were rolling around, when something
happened that brought Kai Bok-su back to his island in great haste. Once
more war swept over Formosa. This time the trouble was between China
and Japan. The big Empire proved no match for the clever Japanese, and
everywhere China was forced to give in.
One of the places which Japan set her affections on was Formosa. She
must have the Beautiful Isle and have it at once. China was in no
position to say no, so the Chinese envoy went on board a Japanese
vessel and sailed toward Formosa. When in sight of its lovely mountains,
without any ceremony he pointed to the land and said, "There it is, take
it." And that was how Formosa became a province of Japan. At noon on May
26, 1895, the dragon flag of China was hauled down from Formosan forts
and the banner of Japan was hoisted.
Of course this was not done without a struggle. The Formosans themselves
fought hard, and in the fight the Christians came in for times of
trouble. So Kai Bok-su, hearing that his "valuables" were again in
danger, set sail for Tamsui.
When he arrived the war was practically over, but everywhere were signs
of strife. As soon as he was able, he took A Hoa and Koa Kau and visited
the chapels all over the country. Everywhere were sights to make his
heart very sad. The Japanese soldiers had used many of the chapels for
military stables, and they were in a filthy state. At one place the
native preacher was a prisoner, the Japanese believing him to be a spy.
At another village the Christians sadly led their missionary out to a
tea plantation and showed him the place where their beloved pastor had
been shot by the Japanese soldiers. Mackay stood beside his grave, his
heart heavy with sorrow.
But his courage never left him. The native Christians everywhere forgot
their woes in the great joy of seeing him once more; and he joined them
in a brave attempt to put things to rights once more. The Japanese paid
for all damages done by their soldiers and in a short time the work was
going on splendidly.
"We have no fear," wrote Dr. Mackay. "The King of kings is greater than
Emperor or Mikado. He will rule and overrule all things."
His faith was rewarded, for when the troublous time was over, the
government of Japan proved better than that of China, and on the whole
the trial proved a blessing.
Oxford College had been closed while Dr. Mackay was away, and the girls'
school had not been opened since the war commenced, for it was not
safe for the girls and women to leave their homes during such disturbed
times. But now both schools reopened, and again Kai Bok-su with his cane
and his book and his crowd of students could be seen going up to the
lecture halls, or away out on the Formosan roads.
He had conquered so often, overcome such tremendous obstacles, and faced
unflinchingly so many awful dangers for the sake of his converts, that
it was no wonder that they adored him, their feeling amounting almost
to worship. "Kai Bok-su says it must be so" was sufficient to compel any
one in the north Formosa Church to do what was required. Surely never
before was a man so wonderfully rewarded in this life. He had given
up all he possessed for the glory of his Master and he had his full
compensation.
A few happy years sped round. The time for him to go back home again was
drawing near when there came the first hint that he might soon be called
on a longer furlough than he would have in Canada.
At first, when the dread suspicion began to be whispered in the halls
of Oxford College and in the chapel gatherings throughout the country,
people refused to believe it. Kai Bok-su ill? No, no, it was only the
malaria, and he always arose from that and went about again. It could
not be serious.
But in spite of the fact that loving hearts refused to accept it, there
was no use denying the sad fact. There was something wrong with Kai
Bok-su. For months his voice had been growing weaker, the doctors had
examined his throat, and attended him, but it was all of no use. At last
he could not speak at all, but wrote his words on a slate.
And everywhere in north Formosa, converts and students and preachers
watched and waited and prayed most fervently that he might soon recover.
Those who lived in Tamsui whispered to each other in tones of dread,
as they watched him come and go with slower steps than they had been
accustomed to see.
"He will be well next month," they would say hopefully, or, "He
will look like himself when the rains dry." But little by little the
conviction grew that the beloved missionary was seriously ill, and a
great gloom settled all over north Formosa. There was a little gleam of
joy when the doctor in Tamsui advised him finally to go to Hongkong and
see a specialist He went, leaving many loving hearts waiting anxiously
between hope and fear to hear what the doctors would say. And prayers
went up night and day from those who loved him. From the heart-broken
wife in the lonely house on the bluff to the farthest-off convert on
the Ki-lai plain, every Christian on the island, even those in the south
Formosa mission, prayed that the useful life might be spared.
But God had other and greater plans for Kai Bok-su. He came back from
Hongkong, and the first look at his pale face told the dreaded truth. The
shadow of death lay on it.
Those were heart-breaking days in north Formosa. From all sides came
such messages of devotion that it seemed as if the passionate love of
his followers must hold him back. But a stronger love was calling him
on. And one bright June day, in 1901, when the green mountainsides, the
blue rivers, and the waving rice-fields of Formosa lay smiling in the
sun, Kai Bok-su heard once more that call that had brought him so far
from home. Once more he obeyed, and he opened his eyes on a new glory
greater than any of which he had ever dreamed. The task had been a hard
one. The "big stone" had been stubborn, but it had been broken, and not
long after the noontide of his life the tired worker was called home.
They laid his poor, worn body up on the hill above the river, beside
the bodies of the Christians he had loved so well. And the soft Formosan
grass grew over his grave, the winds roared about it, and the river and
the sea sang his requiem.
Gallant Kai Bok-su! As he rests up there on his wind-swept height, there
are hearts in the valleys and on the plains of his beloved Formosa and
in his far-off native land that are aching for him. And sometimes to
these last comes the question "Was it well?" Was it well that he should
wear out that splendid life in such desperate toil among heathen that
hated and reviled him? And from every part of north Formosa, sounding on
the wind, comes many an answer.
Up from the damp rice-fields, where the farmer goes to and fro in the
gray dawn, arises a song:
I'm not ashamed to own my Lord, Or to defend his cause.
Far away on the mountainside, the once savage mother draws her little
one to her and teaches him, not the old lesson of bloodshed, but the
older one of love and kindness, and together they croon:
Jesus loves me, this I know, For the Bible tells me so.
And up from scores of chapels dotting the land, comes the sound of the
old, old story of Jesus and his love, preached by native Formosans, and
from the thousand tongues of their congregations soars upward the Psalm:
All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice!
These all unite in one great harmony, replying, "It is well!"
But is it well with the work? What of his Beautiful Island, now that Kai
Bok-su has left for a greater work in a more beautiful land? Yes, it is
well also with Formosa. The work goes on.
There are two thousand, one hundred members now in the four organized
congregations, and over fifty mission stations and outstations. But
better still there are in addition twenty-two hundred who have forsaken
their idols and are being trained to become church-members. The Formosa
Church out of its poverty gives liberally too. In 1911 they contributed
more than thirty-five hundred dollars to Christian work. "Every year,"
writes Mr. Jack, "a special collection is taken by the Church for the
work among the Ami--the aborigines of the Ki-lai plain." This is the
foreign mission of the north Formosa Church.
A Hoa lately followed his pastor to the home above, but many others
remain. Mr. Gauld and his family are still there, in the front of the
battle, and with him is a fine corps of soldiers, comprising fifty-nine
native and several Canadian missionaries, including the Rev. Dr. J. Y.
Ferguson and his wife, the Rev. Milton Jack and Mrs. Jack, the Rev. and
Mrs. Duncan MacLeod, Miss J. M. Kinney, Miss Hannah Connell, Miss Mabel
G. Clazie, and Miss Lily Adair. Miss Isabelle J. Elliott, a graduate
nurse, and deaconess, will join the staff shortly, and a few others
will be sent when secured, in order that the force may be sufficient to
evangelize the million people in north Formosa.
Mrs. Mackay and her two daughters, Helen and Mary, the latter having
married native preachers, Koa Kau and Tan He, are keeping up the work
that husband and father left. A new hospital is being built under Dr.
Ferguson, and plans are on foot for new school and college buildings.
And the latest arrived missionary? What of him? Why his name is George
Mackay, and he has just sailed from Canada as the first Mackay sailed
forty-one years earlier. He has been nine years in Canada and the United
States, at school and college, and now with his Canadian wife, has gone
back to his native land. Yes, Kai Bok-su's son has gone out to carry on
his father's work, and Formosa has welcomed him as no other missionary
has been welcomed since Kai Bok-su's day.
But these are not all. From far across the sea, in the land where Kai
Bok-su lived his boyhood days, comes a voice. It is the echo from the
hearts of other boys, who have read his noble life. And their answer is,
"We too will go out, as he went, and fight and win!"