The Brightness of His Rising
Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is
risen upon thee. For, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and
gross darkness the peoples; but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and
his glory shall be seen upon thee. And nations shall come to thy
light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.--ISAIAH.
After fifteen days’ travel by bush-car, on bicycle, and on foot we
had traversed the 286 miles between the railway and Mbereshi. We
crossed a strip of the Congo-Belge territory shortly after leaving the
railway. At Sakania, the first station over the boundary, all our men
were examined by the doctor, and everyone who had not had small-pox
was vaccinated. We heard a gruesome story of a native postman who had
been arrested a fortnight before, in whose wallet a half-eaten human
foot had been discovered. A day or two later we crossed the Congo back
into Northern Rhodesia again. In the interval many rivers had to be
crossed, sometimes on tree trunks, but more often on the shoulders of
our carriers. The forest was magnificent, one of its most striking
features, perhaps, being the large number of giant ant-hills, some
30 feet high, generally around some great tree, and always covered
with bush and grass, flowers and trees. Butterflies were to be seen
in myriads, exhibiting all the colours of the rainbow. The crossing
of the Congo was a new experience. Descending the hill from the last
Belgian Post Office, Kalunga, the post-master of which was a young
Belgian Count, we crossed a bit of swampy ground on men’s shoulders and
then reached the landing-place, where pandemonium was raging. Our crowd
of carriers were there struggling for the two or three dug-out canoes
in which to transport themselves and their loads across the river,
which at this place--although it is thousands of miles from the sea--is
considerably wider than the Thames at London Bridge. It swarms with
hippopotami and crocodiles. But my most vivid recollection of the Congo
is that one of my bearers managed to drop an iron box containing my
papers into the river. Unfortunately it leaked and considerable damage
resulted.
The village on the other side, in which we encamped, was typical of
many another village we passed through on our journey. Just behind our
tents were three spirit-huts; all around us were native houses built
of straw and mud, and then came an enormous growth of kaffir-corn
about twelve feet high. Surrounding this was forest, save where the
river wound its tortuous course. In the clear light of the evening the
somewhat sparse foliage stood out with great distinctness against the
blue of the sky, each twig and leaf being defined as if seen through a
stereoscope. The neighbourhood abounds with lions, leopards, elephants,
buffaloes, rhinoceros, zebras and hyenas.
Half-way on our journey we camped for one night at Fort Rosebery, the
Government centre for the district. There we were the guests of the
Native Commissioner, Mr. Denton Thompson, one of the small band of
young Cambridge men who are now being employed by the Chartered Company
as Magistrates and Native Commissioners. It is satisfactory to be able
to state that almost without exception the Government officials we came
across in Northern Rhodesia were men really interested in the welfare
of the natives and anxious to do their duty by them. Here as elsewhere
we received the kindest hospitality. Whenever we visited the Government
station we were invariably entertained by the officials, to whom no
trouble seemed too great which ministered to our comfort.
During the following week we passed through country infested with
lions. At Mupeta we saw the skin of an enormous lion which had been
killed the day before. During the previous week this lion had killed
five natives. The people in the village laid a trap for him by tying a
goat in an empty hut, on each side of the door of which they had dug
a pit and had covered them over with laths smeared with mud. At the
bottom of the pits they had fixed spears pointing upwards. The lion
fell into one of them and the natives, who were on the watch, speared
him from above. There were at least a dozen holes in his skin. In
this neighbourhood twenty-two natives had been killed by lions in a
fortnight. We passed through one village where on the previous day a
man had been carried off by a lion, and a day or two before a woman and
a child, who were laying fish traps in the stream, had been killed and
carried away.
On our arrival at Mbereshi we received a very warm welcome. About five
miles from the station some fifty boys met us and ran with us along the
broad road, which has been made by Mr. Nutter, for some distance into
the forest. The men in charge of the bush-cars raced at full speed.
Groups of people met us nearer the station, all of whom joined the
racing cavalcade. Loud peals of thunder kept reverberating overhead
and drowned the reports of the guns which were fired to welcome us. We
arrived just as the first drops of a terrific thunderstorm fell. Mr.
Nutter’s house was soon crowded with natives, and there was endless
shouting and hand-shaking. Never had the natives had such a time in
Mbereshi. The whole village rose to the occasion and turned out to give
the representatives of the L. M. S. a hearty welcome. On the following
day we were the recipients of numerous presents of fowl, flour, goats
and eggs.
[Illustration:
_Photo by_] [_Bernard Turner._
NATIVE WITH FISH TRAP.]
Mbereshi is a delightful station with a magnificent view to the
westward from the front of the Mission Houses, rolling parkland and
forest, with the Mofwe Lagoon four miles away on the horizon. Along
the shores of this lake and beyond there are about thirty villages
with a large population, which has settled there as a result of the
regulations to combat the sleeping-sickness. These have had the effect
of driving the Natives from the east and south shores of Lake Mweru
to the Mofwe villages. All the missionary activities of a flourishing
Mission station are in operation. There are Sunday services, schools,
classes for hearers and catechumens, and prayer meetings. The
Christians from the head-station go out to the villages on Sundays to
conduct services. Industrial work is being carried on under the able
superintendence of Mr. Bernard Turner. The fame of the cabinet-making
and carpentry of the boys trained by him is spread far and wide
over Northern Rhodesia. Much of the furniture in the houses of the
Government officials was manufactured here or at Kambole. Medical
work, too, has been carried on at this station, and for several years
a doctor was in residence. Leprosy is common. In the district there
are 147 registered cases, and probably not less than 200 people are
suffering from the disease. Our Mission work was commenced here in
1900, and the early days were times of great trial. One of the first
missionaries, Mr. Purvis, died there in 1901, a fortnight after Mr.
Nutter’s arrival, and his grave is to be seen under a tree near the
Mission houses. In 1903 a missionary and a missionary’s wife died on
two successive days. God buries his workmen, but carries on His work.
During our stay at Mbereshi we visited Kazembe, the paramount Chief of
the district, who nominally rules over 30,000 people. His town is some
six miles away from Mbereshi, through the thick forest and the long
grass. He received us outside his hut in the centre of the kraal, in
which are a hundred huts for his hundred wives. He was seated on the
ground, gorgeously and grotesquely adorned with beads and skins and
gaily coloured skirts, and wore four large bells, gaiters of beads, and
numerous heavy anklets above his bare feet.
We sat down on low stools and Mr. Nutter helped us to talk to him. He
showed us his treasures. One was a bloodthirsty-looking dagger which
had belonged to ten chiefs before him, and had often been used to kill
men. He produced a large number of charms, which he believes keep the
lions away, and played tunes on a wooden drum cut by himself out of a
solid tree trunk and decorated with brass-headed nails. He uses this
to call his servants when he wants them. The heads of the drum-sticks
are made of raw rubber. He sent for another and much larger drum made
in the same fashion, and carried by two men on a pole, and also showed
us two dulcimers made of wood and calabash. He gave us some raw green
mealies (Indian corn) to eat. Kazembe smoked cigarettes, and when
a member of the party offered him one he wanted to keep the silver
cigarette-case. Then he took us to the Mission School where there were
186 black boys and girls, many of whom were quite naked, and most of
the rest were dressed in pieces of string!
A day or two afterwards Kazembe came to pay us a return visit,
accompanied by hundreds of his followers. He was seated on a platform
suspended between two tree trunks and carried by thirty men, a great
umbrella being held over his head. He himself beat his wooden drum to
tell us he was coming, and a man carrying great yellow and black flags
walked in front of him, and when he got off the platform he strutted
about like a peacock.
Twenty years ago the Chief was a great warrior, and often led his
tribe to battle; but the coming of the British Government and of the
missionaries has changed all that. For fifteen years not a shot has
been fired in anger in his country, and the nearest British soldier or
policeman is stationed more than a thousand miles away at Bulawayo.
Such is the influence of the Pax Britannica in Northern Rhodesia!
On another day we crossed the picturesque Mbereshi river by the ferry
in two dug-out canoes, passing through masses of cream and mauve
water-lilies, visiting a considerable number of the Mofwe villages,
inspecting the schools and receiving the greetings of the Chiefs and
Headmen, with whom we exchanged gifts. The villages consist of one wide
street, and are almost continuous. The people live on fish and tapioca.
At the farthest point at the north end of the Lagoon was a village, on
the site of an older moated village, where Livingstone stayed for some
weeks when he first visited the district. We interviewed one or two of
the old inhabitants, who well remembered seeing him and were able to
describe him to us.
After a stay of ten days at Mbereshi we plunged into the forest again
and journeyed to Chiengi on the north-east shore of Lake Mweru, which
was discovered by Livingstone in the late sixties. On the way we
paid a visit to Kashiba, a proposed site for the new station for the
Chiengi district. This visit brought home to us very clearly some of
the discomforts of Central African travel. After leaving our camp we
had to traverse some half-mile of bad swamp, being carried through
several stretches of water on the shoulders of our bearers. I used a
bicycle, but before we had gone very far a tremendous storm broke and
flooded the path. We sought shelter in a hut in one of the villages.
There was a fire inside, the smoke from which filled the hut and only
partially escaped through the thatch and the door. Except for the glow
of the fire and the flashes of lightning seen through the doorway
it was perfectly dark. The village street gradually became a raging
torrent. After the storm had ceased we pushed on through the long
grass, six to ten feet high and laden with water, arching over the
narrow winding path. We passed through a succession of villages, and
as we neared the site of the proposed station the people, who knew why
we were coming and who are most anxious to have a missionary residing
amongst them, gave us an ovation. The site overlooks the rapids of the
great Kalungwishi river, and a mile away a column of spray indicated
the presence of a great waterfall. Another deluge of rain descended
as we turned back. I hastened in front on the bicycle and reached the
swamp as it was getting dark. The heavy rain had converted it into a
lake. I rode along the path until the water was up to the pedals, then
I dismounted and pushed the machine. Soon both wheels were under water.
It grew deeper and deeper until finally, when the water became breast
high, I was obliged to lift the machine and carry it over my head. Such
are the joys of travel in Central Africa!
Next day we entered the sleeping-sickness area and crossed the great
Game Reserve to get our first sight of Lake Mweru. The day afterwards
we arrived at Chiengi, after experiencing the delights of travelling on
a narrow path along which for miles elephants had been walking after
the rain. Cycling under such conditions is a somewhat trying experience.
The view of Lake Mweru from the verandah of the Native Commissioner’s
house at Chiengi is of surpassing loveliness. To the south the lake
stretches away as far as the eye can see, bordered on the left side by
the forest and on the right by the mountains of the Belgian Congo 25
miles away. Opposite, a little to the south, is Lunza, the beautiful
home of Mr. Dan Crawford, the famous author of “Thinking Black.” At
one’s feet the water broke in tiny wavelets on the golden sand. Its
music was in our ears throughout our stay. The Central African sunset
from Chiengi was a sight to be remembered. The sun went down behind a
bar of cloud. A purple light, which rapidly turned to green, lit up the
western shores of the lake. After the sun had sunk below the horizon
there was a perfect blaze of colour over a large portion of the sky,
and purple, green and golden light stretched in broad bands above the
surface of the lake.
From Chiengi we journeyed to Mpolokoso, the newest of the stations
of the L. M. S. in Central Africa, where Dr. McFarlane has a small
hospital consisting of eight native huts. Our stay here was curtailed
owing to a very serious outbreak of small-pox, nearly half the
inhabitants of the village suffering from this scourge. Most of
those who were not isolated in the segregation camp had already had
the disease. Mpolokoso himself, the Chief of the village, succumbed
to it a few days later. The Government officials were using every
effort to stay the spread of the disease; all infected huts were at
once destroyed by fire, and no one was allowed to enter or leave the
village. The thin columns of smoke ascending from the burning huts into
the cloudless sky told a pathetic tale. On arrival our carriers were
put into custody to prevent them mixing with the people, and every
precaution was taken for the safety of ourselves and our men. One felt
great sympathy with Mr. Cullen Gouldsbury, the Native Commissioner,
upon whom great responsibility rested. Mr. Gouldsbury is a man of many
parts. He is in the service of the British South Africa Company’s
Administration, and we had many indications of the sympathetic way
in which he carried out his duties in looking after the welfare of
the natives. Moreover, he is a poet of no mean order, a constant
contributor of verse to the columns of the _Bulawayo Chronicle_, has
written a delightful book of poems, is the joint author of “The Great
Plateau of Northern Rhodesia,” the most authoritative work on the
country through which we were travelling, and last year published a
book entitled “An African Year.” He has always been a friend of the
Mission, and it will be of interest to quote his testimony from his
latest book, as to one of our missionaries and his wife, which is
rendered all the more valuable by the fact that Mr. Gouldsbury is
himself a Roman Catholic.
“My views upon missionaries and their work, from the general point of
view, stand recorded elsewhere. I have no intention of recapitulating
them here. Let me rather dwell upon the personal standpoint, as
exemplified in the festive little couple who are our neighbours at
---- six miles away.
“Let us call them Saunders--since that is not their name, and quite
sufficiently unlike it--Joseph Saunders and Jane his wife.
“All missionaries in this country, whether Baptist, Presbyterian,
Church of England, or White Fathers, are hard-working, whatever else
they may be. Saunders himself is a man hung upon wires, each of which
would seem charged with a full circuit of electricity. He and his wife
and the sun rise together--a most energetic trio. Before breakfast
he has conducted service, taught for an hour or two in the school,
visited the workshops and checked the labourers about the station.
During the rest of the day he is occupied with blacksmithery, joinery
and the like--laid in slabs between other chunks of teaching. As
likely as not in the evening he will go out after a buck, for Joseph
Saunders is that _rara avis_ among missionaries, a keen hunter; and
after dinner if there are people in the house he will play ping-pong
till all is blue. Not the ordinary ping-pong, you may be sure; that
does not afford sufficient outlet for his exuberant spirits. Kapembwa
ping-pong has mysterious rules of its own, such as that the players
must bound upon the table between the strokes, or lie flat on the
floor between serving and receiving the return. It is a curious game.
I can generally stay out two sets, after that Beryl (the author’s
wife) and I sit on the sofa and watch Saunders and his wife play.
“As for Mrs. Saunders, she is one of the nicest little women in
Africa. Demure, placid, and the very antithesis of Joseph--an adorable
touch of Lancashire in her soft drawling speech, and an utter freedom
from affectation or pose of any kind--she is the ideal next-door
neighbour in Central Africa.
“Saunders sent over the _junga_ for Beryl, so that she was able
to cover the six miles in comparative comfort, while I paddled
furiously behind upon an antediluvian bicycle. For the benefit of
the uninitiated I should perhaps explain that a _junga_ is anything
which moves upon wheels. Originally it meant a bicycle, but in this
particular instance it refers to a marvellous construction, balanced
upon one wheel, which has been built by Saunders himself in the
Kapembwa workshop out of some old packing cases and gas piping,
and which has to my mind solved the question of locomotion in this
country.”
We stayed for two nights at the Mission house at Mpolokoso with Dr.
McFarlane. On account of the small*pox it was impossible to visit the
schools or to meet with the people, though on the Sunday night some
half-dozen of the Mission staff, who do not live in the village, met us
and presented us with a generous offering to the L. M. S. of £4 12s.
6d., made by the infant Church, which consisted of nine members only,
a welcome token of the missionary spirit of the newest and smallest of
the Central African Churches.
Travelling eastward from Mpolokoso we reached Kambole, near the south
end of Lake Tanganyika, after three days’ journey. On our way we had
our first view of this great lonely lake, eight miles away through the
trees, probably from the very spot where Livingstone saw it for the
first time. As we approached the station the people ran beside the
bicycle and bush-car shouting their salutations and showing their joy
in welcoming us in many other ways.
Kambole is the centre of a very widely-scattered district, and is in
an isolated position. The nearest village is an hour and a-half’s walk
away from the station-village, and some out-stations lie three or four
days’ journey distant. It takes the missionaries five weeks’ continuous
travelling to make a circuit of the district.
Many branches of missionary work are carried on at this centre. We
attended crowded services in the Church, and meetings with the classes
for hearers, catechumens, teachers and women. Some ninety-six youths,
who were teachers at the schools in the outstations, at which there
are 1,800 scholars, gathered at Kambole during our visit to attend the
school for the training of teachers, which is held twice a year at
the head station and lasts for about two months. Mr. Stewart Wright,
one of the Kambole missionaries, carries on an extensive out-patient
work at the dispensary near the wattle-and-daub church. Mr. Ross, the
other missionary, is engaged in manifold activities and has charge
of the industrial department which was established and carried on
so successfully by Mr. Bernard Turner, who is now at Mbereshi. The
prolific mission garden is another indication of the practical value
of Mr. Turner’s work. It is excellently irrigated by the construction
of water-furrows. Palms, limes, bamboos, bananas, yams, pineapples,
guavas, grenadiloes, coffee, wheat, tapioca, rice, rubber, and many
vegetables and flowers flourish abundantly.
Half-an-hour’s walk from the Mission House, along an eight-foot road
cut through the forest for a mile and a-half, at a total cost of £2
10s. 0d., takes one to the edge of the Tanganyika Plateau, where there
is a sheer fall of from 400 to 500 feet. On the right is the river,
which descends in a series of beautiful waterfalls, arched over with
foliage and rock, to the level of the lake below. In front the lake
stretches away into the distance extending for 400 miles northward.
It is bordered on the left by the mountains of the Belgian Congo
and on the right by the hills of German East Africa. At the foot of
the precipice is a fertile valley, once thickly populated but now
uninhabited, owing to the sleeping sickness, and through this beautiful
valley flows the river Lovu.
At Kambole we came across a cripple, by name Kalolo, whose history
affords an illustration of the sort of missionary work which is being
carried on in our Central Africa Mission.
Mr. Ross found Kalolo at Katwe, near Kambole, in 1906, destitute and
emaciated, cowering over a few embers of fire, his feet a mass of
putrid ulcers, which had not been washed or dressed for many a long
day. He seemed to have no relations. Mr. Ross brought him to the
station at Kambole, and on his arrival prepared lotions for him, and
put him in charge of another youth, also a cripple, whom he told to
wash Kalolo’s sores. Cripple No. 2, by name Nundo, was afraid and
demurred. Mr. Ross took him into the house and read to him the story
of the Good Samaritan, and told him to go and help Kalolo. He then
consented, and assisted the missionary to attend to Kalolo for a long
time. Mr. Ross had taught Nundo to repair boots and shoes, and this
work he did for some time, but ultimately disappeared while Mr. Ross
was on furlough. Mr. and Mrs. Ross did their best for Kalolo for five
years, thus bearing witness to the people of the compassionate spirit
of the Gospel they had come to teach. The Mission doctors when visiting
the station treated Kalolo, but at last (in 1910) Dr. Wareham, after
vainly endeavouring to cure his tedious ulcers by palliative measures,
amputated both feet. When Kalolo returned to consciousness he was so
depressed that he tried to destroy himself. He still bears a scar on
his forehead caused by dashing his head upon the ground in his despair.
He was, however, brought through that crisis, and when he had recovered
he was sent back to Kambole station. A wooden waggon was made in the
joiner’s shop to enable him to get about. Then he was taught boot and
shoe repairing, as the Europeans in the neighbourhood all sent their
boots and shoes to Kambole to be repaired. Kalolo was highly delighted
to have a means of making a living, and became a most useful man at
that station. Later, when Mr. Ross wished to find employment for two
blind men who came seeking work, he put them with Kalolo to grind
wheat. They proved to be a most successful trio at this work, and in
sawing up timber with the cross-cut saw, at which employment they were
engaged during my visit. Kalolo came to Mr. Ross long ago to say that
he wished to join the Enquirers’ Class, and was enrolled. He afterwards
came to the missionary and offered to help to dress the repulsive sores
of another unfortunate occupant of the little station hospital. Thus
the light of the Gospel is spreading in Darkest Africa, and the Native
torch-bearers are lifting it high, and passing it on from hand to hand
until “the beauty and the glory of the Light” shall illumine the people
that are now sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death.
Accompanied by a large crowd of people, who escorted us on our way
for two or three miles, we left Kambole, still travelling eastward,
for Kafukula, a mission station near the south-eastern corner of
Lake Tanganyika, staying for a night at a village to which some of
the people on the lake shore had been moved in consequence of the
sleeping-sickness. It was amongst these people that Livingstone stayed
for some weeks when he first visited the lake. The exterior of many
of the huts was decorated with charms in the shape of snail shells.
Nearly all the women of the village had holes, about the size of
five-shilling pieces, in the lobes of their ears, in which large discs
of wood, decorated with grotesque specimens of native art, were placed.
[Illustration:
_Photo by_] [_Ernest H. Clark._
KAFUKULA MISSION HOUSE, WHICH COST £40.]
On the following day, escorted by Mr. Clark, the Kafukula missionary,
we reached that station, having descended some 2,000 feet from the edge
of the Plateau, enjoying on the way magnificent views of the lake,
near the shores of which we could see the ruins of the old Mission
station at Niamkolo, which we were to visit a few days later. The
Kafukula Mission house is a wattle-and-daub erection, and one of the
most picturesque residences in Central Africa, as will be seen from the
picture on the opposite page. It was built by Mr. Clark in 1910 at a
total cost of £40. The view from the verandah can never be forgotten.
In front the valley shelves down to the lake shore some 300 feet below.
A small island, which is the property of the Society, nestles in the
lake close to the bank, while beyond away to the north stretch the
crystal waters in their mysterious loneliness. The eastern shore is
visible for some distance, but the western is hidden by the trees in
the foreground. This exquisite picture is framed by the forest-crowned
hills on either side.
We had a great reception. As soon as we were seen descending the hill
the drums began to beat, the bugle sounded and a gun was discharged.
The people showed their gladness by smacking their mouths with their
hands while emitting a clear bell-like sound. At the bottom of the hill
the village Headman, a Christian, and a Church member of many years’
standing, met us, and we walked into the village between rows of people
who, as we passed along, closed in behind and formed a long procession.
Here and there were groups of children singing hymns, some of them in
the native language and some in English. We passed through the village
and down the slope to the beautiful river Lunzua, a rushing torrent,
over which a primitive bridge of tree-trunks and mud in the shape of a
crescent moon leads to the path to the Mission house, which is situated
on a hill on the other side and is reached by a flight of forty-five
steps.
Kafukula is the village to which many of the people from Niamkolo on
the lake shore were moved in consequence of the sleeping-sickness
regulations. During our stay we paid a visit to Niamkolo and the lake.
The following description, written on the evening of the day of our
visit, will speak for itself:--
“We were up early--as is usual in Central Africa. After breakfast
we started for Niamkolo and the lake shore. On Mr. Clark’s advice I
donned my ‘ulendo’ dress--a large white sun-helmet, a khaki flannel
bush-shirt, khaki shorts, and stout boots and stockings and leather
leggings. The Mission family accompanied us, Mrs. Clark travelling in
a machila; the children--Dennis and Marjorie Clark--were accommodated
in a box slung on a pole, carried by two men. My colleague travelled
in a chair suspended between two poles and carried by relays of four
men. Mr. Clark and I walked. It was a glorious morning. We stayed for
a few moments at two villages to see the schools, or rather to see the
teacher and his scholars, for school is held in a kind of stockade
open to the sky, but partially shaded by a tree. The children sang
lustily some verses of Mambwe hymns. Like all Central Africans they
have wonderful memories, and soon learn the hymn-book of nearly one
hundred hymns by heart.
“The walk was somewhat arduous, as much of it was through very long,
thick, bamboo-like grass. Beyond the second village the land is
uninhabited, and is forbidden ground owing to the sleeping-sickness
regulations. We had to obtain special passes from the officials at
Abercorn to permit us to make the trip. Mr. Clark had gone down with
thirty men a week before to clear the path as much as possible and to
burn the grass where necessary and practicable. It was an eight-mile
walk to the former Mission station at Niamkolo, and nearly two miles
further to the shore. The old station was a pathetic sight. The brick
house in which the Stewart Wrights and the Clarks had lived was in
ruins, as it had been left after the fire seven years ago. The walls
were standing to the first floor, and inside trees, shrubs and grasses
were growing in wild profusion. It was on Saturday evening, the 29th
June, 1906, that the detached kitchen took fire in a great gale of
wind. The sparks were carried on to the thatch of the dwelling house,
and in two hours the place was burnt out--very little being saved.
The Clarks were there to see their home destroyed before their eyes.
This was the first time Mrs. Clark had visited the spot since the
conflagration.
“Then came the walk down the hill past the site of the house in which
Mr. and Mrs. Hemans, the black missionaries from Jamaica, used to
live. Then we crossed the plain, once a great garden and rice field,
now a swamp, to reach the Church and the shore. I was carried across
the swamp by two men holding hands, on which I sat with my arms round
their necks. We reached the ruins of the Church about mid-day. It
is picturesquely situated on a hill overlooking the south end of
the lake, and the island belonging to the Society. Its appearance
suggests, on a smaller scale, the ruins of Iona Cathedral far more
than those of a Church in Central Africa. The walls and gable end
and the roofless bell-tower are still standing--and what walls
they are!--all of light stone fashioned in large slabs, and a yard
thick. We had lunch in the bell-tower in some trepidation, as the
over-hanging stones threatened to fall, and then we made our way down
to the stony beach, where we lingered long. The scene was beautiful
beyond description. The lake stretched away to the north into the
‘glow and glory of the distance,’ where water and sky met on the
horizon. The hills on each side were clothed with sylvan loveliness.
The sky was reflected on the bosom of the water. White cloud was piled
on white cloud with many a glimpse of deepest blue, and the glorious
sunshine dominated the scene. It was a dream of beauty.
“The beach is covered with the loveliest shells of all descriptions.
As we sat on the shore the wind blew the spray from the waves into our
faces. The children and I paddled, and though, doubtless, there were
crocodiles in the bulrushes to our left, we did not see any. After tea
we turned our faces towards Kafukula. Long before we arrived at our
destination the shadows of departing day crept on, and by the time
we reached the villages it was quite dark. The sunset was worthy of
the beauty of the day. For some moments the western sky looked like
the very gate of the eternal. Then the fireflies flitted about in
thousands. Their light was, however, from time to time obliterated,
as it were, by flashes of summer lightning. Then the moon came out,
nearly at her fullest, and lit up the landscape with clear, cool,
placid light, and in the solemn beauty of the scene we forgot all
about the lions and puff-adders which infest the country after dark.
“We had a great reception in the villages. The people all turned out
and greeted us, and bade us farewell with ear-splitting salutations,
following us for two miles and keeping up an unearthly noise all the
time. Then all was peaceful again as Mr. Clark and I reached Kafukula,
and crossed the arched bridge over the rushing river, and climbed up
the steps to the Mission House. From the verandah we could see the
great lake ten miles away peacefully asleep in the moonlight. It has
been a glorious day, which will live in the memory as long as life
lasts.”
Evangelistic and educational work is carried on in Kafukula itself and
in the district of which it is the centre. Services and classes for
inquirers and catechumens are regularly held, and the missionary visits
the whole district three times a year, conducting services, inspecting
schools, interviewing inquirers and carrying on the usual missionary
activities. There are seventy-nine teachers connected with the station
whose wages range from £1 (one senior teacher alone gets this; the next
gets 9s. 6d.), to 1s. 6d. a month, and these wages are only paid during
the six or seven months that teaching in the schools is carried on. If
the teacher is placed far from his home he gets in addition 1s. a month
for food. There is also an evangelist, paid at the rate of 6s. a month,
who visits and preaches in the villages. There are 1,300 scholars in
thirty-two schools, and their education consists of reading, writing,
very elementary arithmetic and the memorising of the Lord’s Prayer, the
Commandments, the Beatitudes and other passages of Scripture and hymns.
Valuable medical work is also carried on. Some of the teachers acquire
a little knowledge of the English language, which they are proud to
show off on occasion. After our meeting with the teachers we received a
letter in English, signed by some seventy of them and addressed to the
Directors, from which the following extracts may be given as specimens
of their English scholarship. The opening sentence is as follows:
“We are exceedingly glad to write you this little note to give you
a hearty greeting to you all in this district, so that the old men,
women childrens, boys and girls and whose tribes of this country are
anxiously to send you a good compliments as they couldn’t reach there
to see your faces or to gathered in the same Church.”
It goes on: “But we were very glad to receipt those representatives
who came from their long journey as far as when they came from and we
had a very good general service and Mr. Horlick was one who had held
the service in our Church and it was interests wonderful to hear from
him about his describes preaching he told us many things about jesus
christ our saviour and how a man would follow the secularity of the
kingdom of God.”
The letter concluded as follows: “We thanks you very much for sending
us these Deputation to visit us and to hear many things from them
how do you loved us. We haven’t more information to tell you about.
farewell, Sirs with lots of salutation to all. We hope you are whole
in good health we should like to hear if you are better.”
“Mr. Horlick” requires some explanation. The natives were not familiar
with the names of the strangers who had come amongst them, but seeing
on the walls of the verandah a glazed sheet, which had arrived a few
days before, advertising the merits of “Horlick’s Malted Milk,” they
assumed that this “banner with a strange device” had some reference to
their visitors. Hence the mistake.
From Kafukula we continued our journey eastward to Kawimbe, the oldest
of the Society’s Mission stations in Central Africa. On the road, which
was hilly and very beautiful, we were met by Dr. Wareham. At Abercorn,
the Government centre for the northern part of Northern Rhodesia, we
were hospitably entertained by the Magistrate, and then we continued
our journey to Kawimbe, ten miles away, where another great welcome
awaited us. Hundreds came out to meet us, many of the women and girls
being decorated for the occasion with yellow and red flowers in their
black woolly hair. They escorted us, laughing, singing and dancing all
the way to the Mission station, which is 5,600 feet above the level
of the sea, and picturesquely situated in a shallow basin. The native
village is built on the hillside half-a-mile away, and is well laid
out. Four miles off to the west is Fwambo, the original site of the
first Mission station on the Tanganyika Plateau. A few miles to the
east is the boundary between Northern Rhodesia and German East Africa.
To the south-east is the fertile and populous Saise Valley, forty miles
along which the sphere of the Society’s work abuts upon the field of
the great Livingstonia Mission of the Free Church of Scotland. It may
be mentioned that the river Congo takes its rise a few miles south of
the Mission station. We remained at Kawimbe for nearly three weeks.
The Annual Meetings of the Central Africa District Committee were held
there during our stay. The first week was spent in seeing the work,
visiting parts of the district and interviewing the missionaries and
preparing for the meetings of the District Committee. One day, under
the guidance of Mr. Govan Robertson, we spent over twelve hours in
visiting several of the villages of the district, and accomplished the
latter part of the journey in the dark. We shall long remember the
struggle in the dusk through the almost impenetrable undergrowth of a
picturesque mountain pass, and afterwards through the long grass.
The three Sundays spent at Kawimbe were days of great interest. On
the first two large numbers of people came in to meet us from the
neighbouring villages. On the second a crowded harvest-thanksgiving
service was held at which offerings in kind were contributed, including
sheep, goats, fowl, eggs, nuts, maize, beans, flour, cloth, bracelets,
cash, etc. On the third Sunday I visited one of the adjacent villages
with Mr. Robertson. Communion Services for the Native Christians
and the Missionaries were held. An interesting incident during our
stay was the unveiling of a brass tablet in the Church commemorating
the twenty-fifth anniversary of the commencement of the work on the
Plateau.
The work at Kawimbe is divided amongst the three missionaries by mutual
arrangement. We had not the pleasure of meeting the senior missionary,
Mr. Draper, who was away on furlough.
An early morning prayer meeting, a morning service and an afternoon
class are held every Sunday. The number of Church members has been
steadily increasing in later years and has now reached forty-seven.
There are in addition fifty Catechumens (Christians under probation).
The Church work, as far as the men are concerned, has been affected
by the attraction of better pay offered elsewhere at the mines,
in the stores and in German East Africa. Most, however, of the
Christian men who have remained at Kawimbe have gone out regularly to
preach, and some have conducted Bible classes in the villages in the
neighbourhood. Besides the station classes and Sunday schools there
have been during last year classes in fifty-three villages, attended
by over 900 persons. There is a branch of the International Bible
Reading Association. The Educational work makes steady progress, and
schools are held in every village in the extensive district. At the
close of 1912 there were 2,408 children on the school rolls, with an
average attendance of 1,691. For the most part the school buildings
are provided by the people themselves. Dr. Wareham carries on a much
valued medical work, connected with which is a small hospital admirably
adapted for its purpose.
Our visit to Kawimbe completed our tour of the Society’s Central Africa
stations.
Northern Rhodesia can still be described as a land that is dark, but at
the mission stations we visited, and at many a little outstation, the
light of the Gospel is being kindled, and everywhere there is promise
that the darkness is turning to dawning. The Church is in its infancy,
but it is a growing Church; and, under the blessing of God, will in the
days that are coming be His instrument in spreading the light where now
the darkness reigns.
C.--MADAGASCAR