HENRY DAVIDSON, Chairman.SAMUEL ZOOK, Treasurer.
The summer of 1897 passed slowly for some of us who were eager to be on the way; but even the days of waiting and visiting were a part of our preparation. They were solemn and momentous days also to others besides those who were going. Some of the friends felt that we should not go; others with tears bade us Godspeed, feeling that we might probably never look one another in the face on earth again. In October a little farewell meeting was held at Dayton, Ohio, where God's blessing was invoked on the work, and here I said good-bye to dear old father, realizing that it would likely be for the last time. At Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, we were pleased to receive into our number Miss Barbara Hershey, of Kansas, who also was called to the work.
The actual moving out of the missionaries was also a great impetus to the financial part of the undertaking. During the few months previous to sailing $1,500 was given by voluntary contributions into the hands of the missionaries themselves, more than half of which was handed to Brother and Sister Engle in their extended tour of the Brotherhood. In addition to this, $639.70 was during the same time handed to the Treasurer, making $1,211.64 in his hands.
On November 21 a general farewell and ordination meeting for all was held in the Messiah Home Chapel, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where the fiveprospective missionaries were set apart for the work of the Lord. No brother had volunteered to go along as a helper to Elder Engle. This was a solemn time to those going, for a new and untried field was before them and a voyage and country of which they as yet knew nothing. And yet there was no fear, no anxiety. On the contrary, to some of us the joy of having the privilege of being His messengers to those sitting in darkness transcended all other emotions, and our journal of that time is full of expressions of longing to be in darkest Africa. At that meeting Elder Engle delivered a farewell address with power and unction from on High, and the rest told of their call. After the ordination of all had taken place, we commemorated the death and sufferings of our Savior.
If we may judge from expressions made at the time and since, there were others in that large audience that evening to whom the occasion was an important and impressive one. The Church was rising to a sense of her opportunity and privilege—yes, and duty of carrying out the Great Commission. As we went forth, we felt that the prayers of the entire Church were bearing us up, and that gave renewed strength and courage all along the way. Those prayers buoyed us up as we went forth even into the blackness of heathendom; they opened doors that otherwise would have been closed; yes, and best of all, they opened dark hearts that the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ might penetrate. Those prayers yet today are rising as sweet incense in behalf of the Dark Continent.
Now the Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country and from thy kindred and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee.—Gen. 12: 1.
Now the Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country and from thy kindred and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee.—Gen. 12: 1.
Seventeen years ago a voyage to Africa was not the common occurrence to us plain country folk that it is today. The majority of us had never seen the sea, we knew no one who had made the trip, and we knew less about the continent of Africa.
It had been decided that we should sail November 24, 1897. While Elder and Mrs. Engle were making their tour of the churches, some of us had finished visiting and were waiting the time of sailing. So he suggested that we secure the tickets. We did so to England, and through an agent, Mr. Mills, of England, arranged in advance for tickets from England to Cape Town. The tickets were bought, the good-byes were over, and the date of sailing found us all at New York Harbor, a little anxious, it is true, but eager to launch.
Being inexperienced, we had a little difficulty in having some money matters attended to. Sister Hershey and myself had each a draft which we desired to have exchanged for one on an English bank, and were told by one of the men to take them to the bank on which they were drawn and haveit attended to there. So we were obliged to go up into the city the morning of the date of sailing, when the steamer was to leave at 12 M. We were gone all morning, only to find on reaching the bank that there was no one to identify us, and nothing could be done. Hurrying back to the hotel, we secured our hand baggage and hastened to the wharf. The rest of the company had already embarked, and only a few minutes remained until time of sailing, but we appealed to our agent to exchange the drafts for some on an English bank. Although one of the other men objected on account of the shortness of time, he promptly attended to them, Elders Jacob Engle and John Niesly, who were brothers of Brother and Sister Engle and had come to see them off, going security. The gangway for passengers had already been removed from the steamer and we hurried along that on which baggage was carried. As soon as we were aboard, the steamerMajesticbegan to move; and ere we found the rest of our company on board, a narrow stretch of water lay between us and our native land.
This, our first voyage across the Atlantic, was a delightful one. The sea was unusually calm for that season of the year, so that none of our number became sick, except one, as we neared the coast of Ireland. The passengers on board were on the whole congenial. As we paced up and down the deck, many thoughts crowded in upon us too deep for utterance. What did the future have in store for us? What awaited us on the other side? The Lord alone, whose messengers we were, could foresee. The great, wide, boundless space of water was anever-increasing source of interest and delight, and greatly enlarged our conception of the power and majesty of Him "who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand." We felt in truth that we had let go the shore lines and had launched out into the ocean of His love.
The second day out was Thanksgiving Day, and in company with another missionary on board we had a very enjoyable service which was attended by most of the second-class passengers. Sunday morning there were the regulation Church of England services, and later our genial table steward asked Elder Engle to preach in the evening. He did so to a large, intelligent, and interested congregation. As there had been much conjecture among the passengers as to who we were, and what our belief was, he embraced the opportunity, while speaking, of setting forth some of the tenets of our faith, much to the satisfaction of those present.
On November 31 the steamer reached Liverpool, England, and the first part of the voyage was at an end. As we stood on deck gazing at the strange scenes around us and at the sea of unfamiliar faces looking up into ours, and awaiting our turn to disembark, we realized in truth that we were strangers in a strange land. How was our agent to be found on that crowded wharf?—but this question was quickly settled. No sooner had we stepped off the gangway, than a gentleman approached, and, naming us, introduced himself as Mr. Mills, our agent. What a relief it was to all of us in our ignorance of foreign travel! We were thus forcibly reminded that He was going before and preparing the wayso that we need have no anxious fear. This thought was further impressed upon our minds as we entered our room in the little hotel in Liverpool, for there, on the opposite wall, as we opened the door were the words, "The Lord shall be thy confidence." Mr. Mills then and there took charge of us and our baggage and did not relax his vigilance until we had safely embarked for South Africa.
Fortunate it was that our baggage was in such good hands, for part of it had been miscarried and reached the steamer at Southampton only about an hour before we left that port for South Africa. English travel has many things to recommend it, some of which Americans would do well to profit by; but one learns to appreciate the excellent system of handling baggage in America only after he has had a little experience of the slipshod manner in vogue abroad. This fact was again brought to my attention on my first furlough to America nearly seven years later. When I disembarked at New York, an English lady from the same steamer bought a railroad ticket from New York to San Francisco and checked her baggage.
I said to her, "Now you need not trouble yourself about your baggage until you reach your destination."
"So they tell me," she replied. "It will seem so strange to travel without having to look after one's luggage."
One is pleased to note, however, that the increased amount of foreign travel of late years has brought about some improvement along this line, even in conservative England.
The ride from Liverpool to London was most enjoyable, and would have been still more so had there been some one to point out the places of interest. The fields, still green at that late date, were well kept; but the methods employed in farming seemed somewhat antiquated to people fresh from the farms of western America. As the train glided along we were favored with a glimpse of a hunting party in their brilliant colored costumes in pursuit of the poor little animals on one of the game reserves. The small private compartments on the train were a pleasing novelty, but there was no one to call off the names of the cities through which the train was passing, and the surroundings were too new for us to know where to look for the names. Once when the guard came to examine our tickets, I inquired the name of the place. Concluding from his silence that he had not understood, I ventured to repeat the question. The stare he gave made me realize that I had been guilty of a breach of something, but what it was is not exactly clear to me to this day. We also had a glimpse of London, that great metropolis, with its narrow, crowded streets, its rush of business, and its perfectly-controlled business traffic. Here our company was met by another agent, who conveyed us to Black Wall and placed us on the steamerPembroke Castle, of the Union Castle Line, for a three weeks' voyage to Cape Town.
The associations on theMajestichad been pleasant and we expected a similar experience on this second steamer; but the long voyage to Cape Town leaves much to be desired. One may always findsome congenial spirits, but even under the best circumstances the voyage finally becomes tiresome. Only too often the more turbulent element gains the upperhand, so that drinking, gambling, dancing, and even grosser evils prevail.
After sailing from Southampton one soon leaves behind the cold, chilly winds of the temperate climate and begins to enjoy the soft, balmy breezes of the subtropical climate. However, as the heat becomes more intense, this enjoyment gradually gives place to discomfort. The only stop on the way to Cape Town was at Las Palmas, on Canary Island. As we approached the place, the low-lying mountain peaks could have been mistaken for clouds, but soon the entire island lay before us in all its beauty. What appeared at first sight to be bare cliffs were soon seen to be clothed with verdure; and while we were feasting our eyes on the scene, on one side of the steamer, our attention was called to the opposite side where the city of Las Palmas lay. It was indeed a magnificent scene and beggars description. The city, which is almost entirely white, rises tier after tier up the mountain side, and the whole had a dark background of mountain peaks. We were in the bay with the island nearly surrounding us. In a short time our steamer was encompassed by a number of small boats full of natives, some of whom came to sell their wares of fruit or fancywork. Other boats were full of diving boys, ready to plunge into the sea for money thrown from the steamer into the water.
In a short time the steamer was again on its way; but where was it taking the little band of missionaries?and what was to be their final destination? Their tickets called for Cape Town, but beyond that the way seemed like a sealed book. Africa, with its barbarism, its unknown depths, its gross darkness, lay before them; and they were keenly conscious of their ignorance of the continent. They had implicit confidence, however, in their Great Leader, and believed that they were going to a place which the Lord said He would show them. Many prayers ascended that they might understand His voice when He spoke to them.
Personally their ideas about the location of the work differed. At first Elder Engle felt drawn for various reasons towards the Transvaal (not Johannesburg), because that was not so far inland. To one of the party the call had been distinctly into the interior and most needy regions where Christ had not been named. All, however, were ready to let the Lord lead.
A number of the passengers on the steamer were familiar with some parts of Africa and gave valuable information. One of the officers, the chief engineer, was especially helpful. He brought out his maps and went carefully over the ground, showing where missionaries were located and where there was need. Ere the party left the steamer, the consensus of opinion seemed to be that Rhodesia, or the part of it known as Matabeleland, was the Lord's place for them to begin aggressive missionary work. This was further confirmed when it was learned that the Cape to Cairo Railroad had just been completed as far as Bulawayo, the chief town of Matabeleland.
This having been decided upon, the next question was as to how long they were to remain at Cape Town before proceeding into the interior. The amount of money at their disposal was not large, and as it was the Lord's money it was necessary to know His will as to its disposal. They soon learned that He was continuing to go before and prepare the way. Those were precious days of waiting on Him; for never does His will and guidance seem so precious as when He is showing only one step at a time, and as one becomes willing to take that, lo! another is revealed just beyond. Why then do we so often halt, fearing to walk alone with Him, knowing that we cannot stumble as long as we keep hold of His dear hand?
On December 26 the steamer entered beautiful Table Bay, and the long voyage was over. Praises ascended to Him Who had given such a prosperous journey. It was Sunday when land was reached and the passengers were allowed to remain on board the steamer until Monday if they so desired. All of us attended divine services on land Sunday morning, and in the afternoon Brother and Sister Engle went to the Y. W. C. A. Building where the Secretary, Miss Reed, offered to help them look for rooms.
They accordingly went on Monday morning, the rest of us remaining with the boxes and in prayer. They at first were unsuccessful in securing rooms, but after again looking to the Lord for guidance, Miss Reed was impressed to take them to a Mrs. Lewis (nee Shriner), a prominent temperance and reform worker of Cape Town, and a most devotedChristian. This lady was a friend in need to many of God's children. She had lately rented a large building in connection with her work; but the venture had not been as successful as she had hoped, and she was in prayer about the matter, pleading that the place might be made a blessing to some one. Even as she prayed, three persons stood at her door desiring to speak with her. These were Miss Reed and Elder and Mrs. Engle, whom the Lord had directed thither. As soon as she heard their errand, she felt that here was an answer to her prayer. Arrangements were immediately made by which they were to receive three plainly-furnished rooms for a sum which was very moderate indeed for Cape Town. She said she would prefer to give the rooms gratis if she were in a position financially to do so. Together they fell on their knees and thanked the Lord for answered prayer which meant so much to all concerned. When Elder Engle returned to the waiting ones their hearts, too, leaped for joy at the good news. They thought it was almost too good to be true, that so soon rooms had been secured, and that they were to have a little home of their own without the expenses of a hotel. Truly, "He is able to do exceeding abundantly all that we ask or think." Boxes were soon transferred to the new home and our feet planted firmly on African soil
.
We were here on the threshold of Africa, eager to move out. We realized, however, how meager was our knowledge of this vast continent and its needs, so it was necessary to go slow and gain all possible information from this vantage ground.
Cape Town is the oldest of South African cities and is the largest seaport town, having a population of about 80,000 inhabitants. The long, tiresome sea voyage being over, the sight of this picturesque city, nestling so cozily at the foot of Table Mountain, is one long to be remembered. The mountain rises abruptly 3,850 feet in the background of the city. Its majestic flat top is two miles long, and when the weather is clear, it stands sharply outlined against the blue sky. Frequently, however, a white cloud, known as the "Table Cloth," comes up from the sea from the back of the mountain and rolls down over the face, a sign that a change of weather is imminent. It has been said, "The glory of Table Bay is Table Mountain," and "The glory of Table Mountain is the Table Cloth." Bay, town, and mountain combine to make the picture beautiful and unique of its kind.
Cape Town was laid out by the Dutch, and the substantial, antiquated-looking houses in the olderparts of the city bear ample testimony to this fact. There are also many fine, modernly-built houses. The place is supplied with all the latest improvements, which are a necessary part of a modern city. The population is most varied. Dutch, English, Hottentots, Malays, and Kafirs abound. The scenes on some of the streets at that time, especially in the evenings and on holidays, were most varied and picturesque. There were to be seen Europeans in civilian dress, others in soldier's uniform, Malays in their turbans and bright, flowing robes, well-dressed blacks, and the raw native African with only a gunny sack to cover him, for clothed he must be before he can enter the city.
Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, together with other Christian people whom we met at Cape Town, thought Matabeleland, the chosen field, was a good one, especially the Matopo Hills, as there were no missionaries in that locality. The late Cecil Rhodes, who was still powerful in Rhodesia, was at that time living on his estate, Groot Schuur, near Cape Town, and Bishop Engle was advised to go to him and endeavor to obtain from him a tract of land for a mission site. This was another special season of looking to the Lord on the part of the little company, that He might overrule it to His glory and to the advancement of His Kingdom. Brother Engle was received kindly by the gentleman, and his request was favorably considered, especially the suggestion of going to the Matopo Hills. He at once gave Brother Engle a letter to the British Charter Company, of Rhodesia, with the recommendation that we be given 3,000 acresof land in the Matopo Hills for a mission station. He added that "missionaries are better than policemen and cheaper."
Every forward step only served to confirm us in the decision on the steamer that Matabeleland, which is a part of Rhodesia, was the Lord's place for opening up His work in Africa. The fact that the railroad had just shortly before been completed that far, thus making it easier of access; the advice of those on the steamer who were familiar with the country; the advice of the spiritually-minded friends met at Cape Town, and the encouragement given by him, the "Empire Builder," who perhaps more than anyone else had the welfare of the country at heart and whose name, Rhodesia, the country bore, together with the conviction of the missionaries themselves, all served to set at rest any further question as to location that might arise.
Sister Hershey, it is true, was somewhat burdened as to whether Rhodesia was the Lord's place for her. While she was seeking to know His will in the matter, she received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Worcester, of Johannesburg, inviting her to come and assist in the missionary work at the Compounds. She felt at once that this was the Lord's place for her, and accepted it as from Him. We were truly sorry to lose so valuable and consecrated a colaborer in the work, but felt to bow in submission to Him Who knoweth best.
While we were waiting at Cape Town, we learned that the Tebele language spoken by the natives in Matopo Hills and vicinity was a dialect of the Zulu language. The Bible had been translated into theZulu, and there were grammars and dictionaries to be had, and we at once endeavored to procure these so that we might do some studying. Efforts were also made to secure a teacher, but the Zulu teacher recommended did not have sufficient English to be of any real service to us except in the pronunciation of Zulu words, so we were obliged to study on alone and consequently made very little progress.
We had arrived at Cape Town in the midst of the summer and dry season. Like California, Cape Town and vicinity have rains chiefly in the winter, and a most healthful climate the year round. Other parts of South Africa, however, have their rainy season in the summer, and in some localities, notably Rhodesia and farther inland, the deadly malarial fever is especially severe during the rainy season. So we were advised to remain at Cape Town until the rains were over in Rhodesia. Mr. Lewis was contemplating going north with us to assist Brother Engle in opening the work; but before this could be accomplished, both he and Mrs. Lewis were summoned north to Bulawayo by a telegram to minister to one of their friends there who was very sick.
After reaching Bulawayo they immediately sent a telegram south telling us to remain at Cape Town, and under no consideration to venture into the interior until the rains were over. As if to emphasize the message, both of them, while attending to the sick, were stricken with fever, and all were obliged to hasten south as soon as possible. We also came into contact with some of the Seventh Day Adventists in Cape Town, and through them learned thattwo of their missionaries in Rhodesia had just succumbed to the fever.
From the illness brought on at this time Mr. Lewis never fully recovered, and shortly after our departure from Cape Town, we learned, much to our sorrow, that he had been carried away by the disease. We were often made to feel, as Mrs. Lewis expressed it, that the Lord had sent them before us to preserve life. Otherwise we would undoubtedly have gone to Bulawayo at an earlier date than we did and would probably have had to suffer in consequence. We shall never forget the great kindness of these friends during the entire four months of our stay at Cape Town. The wise counsel, the spiritual and financial aid which they gave, will ever be a green spot in our memory. And not only then, but in later years, Mrs. Lewis' home, "The Highlands," and her large heart were ever open to our missionaries. As each recruit stepped foot on Africa's shores she was the first to welcome him. When any needed rest, her house was wide open for any who might choose to come and rest there. When a few years ago word came that she had gone to meet her Savior Whom she so much loved, we all felt that we had indeed lost a friend that could not be replaced.
At last the time came when it was considered safe to move out, Sister Hershey to Johannesburg and the rest to Bulawayo. Mrs. Lewis had given us a nice large tent, 16 x 16 feet, which could be used as a dwelling place while huts were being built, and she had also on her trip north met some of the white people of Bulawayo who were ready to assistus. Other friends at Cape Town also kindly helped us on the way.
On April 28, 1898, we took the train at Cape Town, bound for Bulawayo, 1,362 miles inland. We traveled four days and four nights in a comfortable coach and reached the place May 2. The same journey formerly required six months and longer with an ox team. We passed through only a few towns worthy the name; Kimberley, the center of the diamond mines, being the principal one. Some of the country through which we passed looked like a desert; not a blade of grass to be seen, but the red sand is covered with bushes. This is known as the Karroo, and, as rain seldom falls on much of this land, one is surprised to see flocks of sheep and here and there an ostrich farm. There are many flat-topped mountains and hills, at the foot of which one occasionally catches sight of a farmhouse with its accompanying sheep pen. A letter sent to America at the time adds:
Parts greatly resemble Kansas prairies, while the last four or five hundred miles of the journey the country looks like old, deserted orchards. We were also introduced to African life in its primitive state, and during the latter part of the journey no white people were visible save the few connected with the railway service, but many native huts were to be seen. Some were made of mud, others formed of poles covered with various-colored cloth, forming a veritable patchwork, while the natives in semi-nude condition came crowding about the car windows, begging for money and food. How my heart bled for these poor souls! Although the railroad was built, ostensibly, for the purpose of developing the commercial and mining interests of the country; yet, as I looked upon those poor natives, I wondered whether the realpurpose of it under the Providence of God was not to bring the Gospel to them. Other missionaries are here before us, but I believe we are the first to make use of the new railroad for this purpose.
Parts greatly resemble Kansas prairies, while the last four or five hundred miles of the journey the country looks like old, deserted orchards. We were also introduced to African life in its primitive state, and during the latter part of the journey no white people were visible save the few connected with the railway service, but many native huts were to be seen. Some were made of mud, others formed of poles covered with various-colored cloth, forming a veritable patchwork, while the natives in semi-nude condition came crowding about the car windows, begging for money and food. How my heart bled for these poor souls! Although the railroad was built, ostensibly, for the purpose of developing the commercial and mining interests of the country; yet, as I looked upon those poor natives, I wondered whether the realpurpose of it under the Providence of God was not to bring the Gospel to them. Other missionaries are here before us, but I believe we are the first to make use of the new railroad for this purpose.
Before proceeding with my story let me introduce to my readers the people and the country to which we had come. The Matabele are a branch of the Zulu tribe of Southeast Africa. During the reign of the great and despotic Zulu King, Tyaka, they revolted under the leadership of Mzilikazi, or Moselikatse, and started north through Africa, proving a terror to the various tribes along the way and meeting with numerous hardships and varying degrees of success. About the year 1836 found them in this country, to which they gave the name Matabeleland. This land, together with Mashonaland, constitutes what is now known as Southern Rhodesia.
Here they established themselves by ruthlessly slaughtering all who opposed them, and enslaving the natives already in the country. After the death of Mzilikazi, his son, Lobengula, became King. He was more or less tyrannical, like his father, and he lived with his sixty wives about two miles from what is now known as Bulawayo—the killing place—or, as the natives often say, "o Bulawayo," meaning murderer. A rock near this place is still pointed out as the place where a number of his wives met a violent death.
This King Lobengula ruled his people with a rod of iron. The young men were all enlisted in hisarmy and the women and children left to carry on the work in the gardens and kraals. Rev. Helm, one of the first missionaries in the country, said it was impossible to get hold of the young men; and even if the boys did start to school, the King would take them for his own use as soon as they were old enough. He, however, never molested the missionaries themselves, and probably considered it an honor to have a white teacher in the country; but, as Mrs. Helm remarked, they were careful not to offend him.
The British Charter Company had obtained some concessions from the King in 1889, and, in the next year, Europeans entered the country to prospect and mine the gold. It was a foreseen conclusion that there would eventually be a conflict between a savage despot, to whom many of the white people were obliged to cringe, and a civilized people. The inevitable reached a climax in 1893, when war broke out between the King and the white people of the country. There were only a few white men in the country at that time, but assegais and other native weapons were no match for Maxim guns and European tactics. The King's house being burnt, he himself fled and eventually died in January, 1894, thus causing the war suddenly to come to an end, as there remained no one to keep the forces together. The British South African Company took possession and began to occupy and build up the country.
The Matabele, however, did not consider themselves conquered, and many circumstances conspired to bring about a second conflict. Perhaps the chief among these was the fact that all the cattlewere regarded as the property of the King, although being distributed among the people and used by them as their own. However, since the cattle belonged to the King, the British Company looked upon them as theirs by right of conquest, and proceeded to appropriate some of them. This greatly angered the natives, as also the rinderpest, which came later and swept off many of the remaining cattle. Then 400 of the subject tribes were armed and enlisted as native police; and this was most galling to the proud Matabele warriors, that they should be exulted over by their former slaves. The disease among their cattle, the locust, which devoured their crops, and numerous other troubles were all, by their witch doctors, laid at the door of the white man. Umlimo (their god) also affirmed that their King was still alive and was ready to assist them in gaining their liberty.
This second conflict, known as the Matabele Rebellion of 1896, came very suddenly upon the 4,000 white people, scattered in various parts of the country. No one seemed to expect danger, although there were several who had had a little warning, and many natives who were working in Bulawayo were called home by their parents. One boy in speaking of the time said:
"I was working in Bulawayo when my father sent word that I was to come home. I did not want to but I was afraid to disobey. I was afraid to look at my father, he looked like a mad man. He said, 'We cannot live and be oppressed like this. We would rather die than be treated as we are!'
"The rest of the people, too, looked just that way!"
The natives rose against the Europeans and suddenly murdered 200 in the outlying districts, including a number of women and children. Some of these were murdered by their own servants. The rest of the white people hastily gathered into the new town of Bulawayo, while soldiers scoured the country in search of native troops. A large number of the native police had gone over to the enemy, carrying their rifles with them, and a number of the natives, both in Matabeleland and Mashonaland, had in some way secured several thousand firearms; so that in this war the natives were much better prepared.
This rebellion lasted eight months, and the natives were finally driven into the Matopo Hills. In these, nature's vast strongholds and caves, all efforts of the European soldiers to dislodge them proved unavailing. Here finally came Mr. Rhodes, unarmed, into the midst of the enemy's camp and made peace with them. The tree under which this famous council was held is still pointed out not many miles from where Matopo Mission now is. We entered the country a little over a year after the close of the rebellion, while all the causes and events were still fresh in the minds of the natives. What is still more significant, we were located in the very heart of these hills where no missionary had yet penetrated, and being surrounded by many of the rebels themselves, we were able to glean much of the above history at first hand. When we went among them they were still seething with discontentfrom the same cause which led to the Rebellion.
Mr. Rhodes, who had made peace with these natives, was always respected and trusted by them, and while he was no religious man himself, he thoroughly believed in missionary work among the people. His desire that we come to these hills and his statement, that "missionaries are better than policemen, and cheaper," was actuated by no mercenary motive. It was his conviction, borne out by experience and by long years of contact with the Africans, that missionary work and the Christianization of the natives was the only solution of the native problems.
But to return to our story, we arrived at Bulawayo late in the evening and were taken to the Royal Hotel. This was a good, up-to-date hotel, with an up-to-date African price. In the morning, as we looked out of the window, the first sight which greeted our eyes was a large African wagon drawn by eighteen oxen. Except for this and similar sights we could easily have imagined that we were in an American town, for this place, with broad streets and thriving business, is said to have been patterned somewhat after American cities. My impressions of the town and vicinity written at the time were as follows:
Bulawayo is a modern wonder, an oasis of civilization in the midst of a desert of barbarism and heathendom. It has nearly 3,000 inhabitants, and has been built since 1894. Before that time Lobengula, the great Matabele King, held sway about two miles from here at the place where the Government House now stands. This place reminds one of the booming Kansas towns of a fewyears ago, but it is hundreds of miles from any other civilized place, and is well built of brick and iron, has good stores of all kinds, five churches, public library, electric lights and telephone, not only in town, but also extending to various police forts in the surrounding country, but no public schools. There are comfortable riding cabs, or traps, drawn by horses or mules, but the traffic is carried on by heavy carts or still heavier wagons drawn by a large number of oxen or donkeys. The manual labor is done chiefly by the native boys, the white people considering it beneath their dignity to do anything a native can do.The surrounding country is very pretty and level, and one can see an abundance of the "golden sands" mentioned by the poet, and even gold sands are not wanting, but I am sorry to say that the "sunny fountains" rolling down them are very few, especially at this season of the year when there are seven months of drought!
Bulawayo is a modern wonder, an oasis of civilization in the midst of a desert of barbarism and heathendom. It has nearly 3,000 inhabitants, and has been built since 1894. Before that time Lobengula, the great Matabele King, held sway about two miles from here at the place where the Government House now stands. This place reminds one of the booming Kansas towns of a fewyears ago, but it is hundreds of miles from any other civilized place, and is well built of brick and iron, has good stores of all kinds, five churches, public library, electric lights and telephone, not only in town, but also extending to various police forts in the surrounding country, but no public schools. There are comfortable riding cabs, or traps, drawn by horses or mules, but the traffic is carried on by heavy carts or still heavier wagons drawn by a large number of oxen or donkeys. The manual labor is done chiefly by the native boys, the white people considering it beneath their dignity to do anything a native can do.
The surrounding country is very pretty and level, and one can see an abundance of the "golden sands" mentioned by the poet, and even gold sands are not wanting, but I am sorry to say that the "sunny fountains" rolling down them are very few, especially at this season of the year when there are seven months of drought!
This for Bulawayo in 1898 and first impressions.
We remained at the hotel only two days. Our tent and the other goods had not yet arrived, but a gentleman, to whom we had a letter of introduction through Mrs. Lewis, most kindly offered the use of his house and furniture for two weeks, which offer was gratefully accepted. Before the end of that time our tent had arrived, and this being placed on a vacant lot furnished ample protection for that season of the year.
Bulawayo, being of such recent growth and being surrounded by pagan tribes, would have afforded abundant opportunity for missionary work. Daily these raw natives would come to our tent door to sell wood or other articles; and we longed to tell them something of a Savior's love, had we been able to speak to them. One morning thirteen nativewomen, each with a great load of wood on her head, arranged themselves, smiling and expectant, before the door of our tent. We could only smile in return, that one touch of nature's language which is akin the world over. We were thankful that we could do so much, but back of the smile was a heavy heart that we could do so little.
During the two months we remained at Bulawayo efforts were made to secure a suitable location among the Matopo Hills. Mr. Rhodes' letter had been delivered to the government officials, and they generously undertook to assist in locating the work. The first place to which they took Brother Engle—the one recommended by Mr. Rhodes—was found to have been surveyed by a private individual. They then made another selection, about thirty miles southeast of Bulawayo, the place now known as Matopo Mission, and they agreed to give us here a Mission Reservation of 3,000 acres. The officials, as well as other Europeans in Bulawayo, rendered us much assistance. In addition to these the Seventh Day Adventist missionaries also greatly helped us on the way. These had a mission station about thirty miles west of Bulawayo, and about fifty miles from the place selected for us; and while we were waiting in Bulawayo, they kindly took out, at different times, Brother and Sister Engle and Sister Heise, for a visit to their station.
The time came for us to move out to our location among the hills, and the question of how we should get ourselves and our goods to the place was becoming a serious one. Transportation, like everything else in the interior of Africa, was exceedinglyexpensive. In this emergency Mr. Anderson, of the Seventh Day Adventist Mission, offered to come that long way with his donkey wagon and move us for half the sum required by a regular transport driver.
It is difficult for the reader to form any conception of what these various expressions of kindness along the way, coming so unexpectedly from entire strangers, meant to that little band of missionaries out in the heart of Africa. Even as I write these things, after a lapse of sixteen years, and live over the events of that time, tears of joy unbidden come and my heart wells up in gratitude as I again recall these evidences of the wonderful "faithfulness of a faithful God."
We had been ignorant of our destination when we left the American shore, and even more ignorant of the cost of living in the interior of Africa; so that, by the time supplies had been purchased to take along to the hills, the money on hand was about exhausted. We knew not how long a time would elapse before a fresh supply could reach us. Knowing, too, that the Church had very little experience in foreign missionary work, one could not fail at times to be a little anxious. Thanks, however, to the wisdom, ability, and promptness displayed by the old fathers who formed the Mission Board, and to their support, backed up by the Church; as soon as conditions were understood at home means were forthcoming and we were never allowed to be in want.
We must remember that it was not by interceding for the world in glory that Jesus saved it. He gave Himself. Our prayers for the evangelization of the world are but a bitter irony so long as we only give of our superfluity and draw back before the sacrifice of ourselves.—M. Francois Coillard.
We must remember that it was not by interceding for the world in glory that Jesus saved it. He gave Himself. Our prayers for the evangelization of the world are but a bitter irony so long as we only give of our superfluity and draw back before the sacrifice of ourselves.—M. Francois Coillard.
We heartily echo the words of this sainted missionary to the Barotse, but we believe that the thought uppermost in the heart of each of the four waiting ones at Bulawayo was not sacrifice but privilege, on that July morning, so long ago, when the command to go forward was given. We were soon to reach our destination, the place to which we had started from New York over seven months previously. An account of this trip written at the time reads somewhat as follows:
We left Bulawayo on the evening of July 4 and traveled three nights and two days before the mission valley was reached. The nights were cool and a bright moon lighted up the way, so that traveling went better at night than during the heat of the day. The wagon was about eighteen feet long, very strong and heavy, and was drawn by eighteen donkeys. These were led by one native boy, while another with a long whip was doing the driving. The load of about three tons was very heavy—too heavy, in fact, for a part of the way. Donkeys can travel only two miles an hour on good roads and on poor roads it sometimes requires two hours to go one mile. Occasionallywe stopped from two to four hours to let the donkeys rest and graze.During such times we would build fire on the veldt, and cook and eat our food; or, if it were night, we would wrap our blankets about us, take our pillows, and lie down in the shelter of some friendly bush and sleep. Mother Engle usually preferred the shelter of the tent on the back of the wagon, although the place was too much crowded for her to rest comfortably. Since the load was so heavy we spent a great deal of the time walking. We would walk ahead of the wagon for a distance, then sit down and rest until the wagon reached us. Only two of three settlers' houses were visible, and no native kraals, and we were informed that as soon as the white man makes a road, the natives move away from it.After twenty miles of travel we came to Fort Usher. At this place there reside an English magistrate and a number of white police. Here we were kindly received and given a native guide for the rest of the journey. We now left the government road and plunged into the hills. The wagon went along another five miles with very little difficulty. Then it mired on going through a swampy place, one side sinking nearly to the hubs of the wheels, and further progress was impossible. All put forth every effort to extricate it but to no avail. What was to be done?While we were in this dilemma, the Chief of the natives in this part of the country, Hluganisa by name, with some natives came to meet us and bid us welcome. They gave us a very friendly reception, and then joined in to assist in extricating the wagon, but without success. Mr. Anderson, who could speak the native language, explained to the chief who we were and our object in coming, and he promised to meet us at the mission site the next day, as it was now evening.Mr. Anderson then took our party forward a little distance to a dry spot, where we rested during the night. He and his native boys returned to the wagon, and, removing the greater part of the load, carried it beyond the marshy place. The donkeys were then able to pull outthe wagon. It is needless to add that Mr. Anderson and his boys were extremely tired after this laborious task and were glad to snatch a little rest. Even under such circumstances they did not indulge long in the much-needed rest, but at an early hour were again ready for the journey. Those of us who had enjoyed a good night's rest were also aroused, and we started on our last trek into the hills. We reached the valley, which is to be our home, on the morning of July 7.This valley is surrounded by immense granite hills and boulders, some of which cover hundreds of acres, so that at first sight the rocks seem to constitute the chief part of the country, but a closer inspection showed us to what a beautiful place God had led us for His work. There, spread out before our eyes, was a beautiful rolling valley of rich, dark earth, well supplied with an abundance of fresh water. It was stated that the "sunny fountains" are rare in this part of Africa, and that is true. Here, however, in this beautiful valley, in the heart of Matopo Hills, are sparkling fountains of beautiful water, crystal clear, oozing from under the surface of the rocks, and flowing down the valley. Some contain delicate mosses and pretty water lilies, and surpass the Michigan lakes in transparency.In the meantime the Chief had sent word to the headmen of the various kraals to meet us. So, in the morning, obedient to the call of their superior, they came and sat in a semi-circle while their chief addressed them (Mr. Anderson interpreting for our benefit):"These are not like other white people."The deep-toned voices of the headmen responded in unison, "Yes, my lord."He continued, "They have come to teach you and your children and to do you good."Again came the response, "Yes, my lord.""Now do what you can for them and help them."And again the same response was repeated.One may imagine how that impressed us. Here we are, far from other white people, among a class of nativeswho have never been subdued by the English soldiers. They are kept in subjection only by forts of police stationed among the hills, the nearest being ten miles distant. Yet these people recognized us at once as their friends and received us with kindness far above what we dared expect. Our hearts overflow with thankfulness to Him who rules the hearts of men.
We left Bulawayo on the evening of July 4 and traveled three nights and two days before the mission valley was reached. The nights were cool and a bright moon lighted up the way, so that traveling went better at night than during the heat of the day. The wagon was about eighteen feet long, very strong and heavy, and was drawn by eighteen donkeys. These were led by one native boy, while another with a long whip was doing the driving. The load of about three tons was very heavy—too heavy, in fact, for a part of the way. Donkeys can travel only two miles an hour on good roads and on poor roads it sometimes requires two hours to go one mile. Occasionallywe stopped from two to four hours to let the donkeys rest and graze.
During such times we would build fire on the veldt, and cook and eat our food; or, if it were night, we would wrap our blankets about us, take our pillows, and lie down in the shelter of some friendly bush and sleep. Mother Engle usually preferred the shelter of the tent on the back of the wagon, although the place was too much crowded for her to rest comfortably. Since the load was so heavy we spent a great deal of the time walking. We would walk ahead of the wagon for a distance, then sit down and rest until the wagon reached us. Only two of three settlers' houses were visible, and no native kraals, and we were informed that as soon as the white man makes a road, the natives move away from it.
After twenty miles of travel we came to Fort Usher. At this place there reside an English magistrate and a number of white police. Here we were kindly received and given a native guide for the rest of the journey. We now left the government road and plunged into the hills. The wagon went along another five miles with very little difficulty. Then it mired on going through a swampy place, one side sinking nearly to the hubs of the wheels, and further progress was impossible. All put forth every effort to extricate it but to no avail. What was to be done?
While we were in this dilemma, the Chief of the natives in this part of the country, Hluganisa by name, with some natives came to meet us and bid us welcome. They gave us a very friendly reception, and then joined in to assist in extricating the wagon, but without success. Mr. Anderson, who could speak the native language, explained to the chief who we were and our object in coming, and he promised to meet us at the mission site the next day, as it was now evening.
Mr. Anderson then took our party forward a little distance to a dry spot, where we rested during the night. He and his native boys returned to the wagon, and, removing the greater part of the load, carried it beyond the marshy place. The donkeys were then able to pull outthe wagon. It is needless to add that Mr. Anderson and his boys were extremely tired after this laborious task and were glad to snatch a little rest. Even under such circumstances they did not indulge long in the much-needed rest, but at an early hour were again ready for the journey. Those of us who had enjoyed a good night's rest were also aroused, and we started on our last trek into the hills. We reached the valley, which is to be our home, on the morning of July 7.
This valley is surrounded by immense granite hills and boulders, some of which cover hundreds of acres, so that at first sight the rocks seem to constitute the chief part of the country, but a closer inspection showed us to what a beautiful place God had led us for His work. There, spread out before our eyes, was a beautiful rolling valley of rich, dark earth, well supplied with an abundance of fresh water. It was stated that the "sunny fountains" are rare in this part of Africa, and that is true. Here, however, in this beautiful valley, in the heart of Matopo Hills, are sparkling fountains of beautiful water, crystal clear, oozing from under the surface of the rocks, and flowing down the valley. Some contain delicate mosses and pretty water lilies, and surpass the Michigan lakes in transparency.
In the meantime the Chief had sent word to the headmen of the various kraals to meet us. So, in the morning, obedient to the call of their superior, they came and sat in a semi-circle while their chief addressed them (Mr. Anderson interpreting for our benefit):
"These are not like other white people."
The deep-toned voices of the headmen responded in unison, "Yes, my lord."
He continued, "They have come to teach you and your children and to do you good."
Again came the response, "Yes, my lord."
"Now do what you can for them and help them."
And again the same response was repeated.
One may imagine how that impressed us. Here we are, far from other white people, among a class of nativeswho have never been subdued by the English soldiers. They are kept in subjection only by forts of police stationed among the hills, the nearest being ten miles distant. Yet these people recognized us at once as their friends and received us with kindness far above what we dared expect. Our hearts overflow with thankfulness to Him who rules the hearts of men.
The Chief and one or two other natives went with us to look up a location on which to pitch the tent and build huts. The tent was finally pitched under the shade of a large umkuni tree, Mr. Anderson returned to his station, and we were left without an interpreter, and with no practical knowledge of mission work. We had, however, a Great Teacher, and we were willing to be taught.
Both Matabele and their subject races, known as Amahole, live in the Matopo Hills. The majority of them are not black, but a chocolate brown, and some have features resembling white people. They are generally large, well-formed, and intelligent-looking. They are more or less rude in manner, uncouth in appearance, and wear little or no clothing except the loin cloth. This in the men usually consists of the skin of small animals, and among the women a short skirt of cloth or skins. Over the upper part of the body is sometimes thrown a larger piece of cloth.
Among those that gathered about us that first day were some who had been quite active in the late rebellion. As we gained their confidence, they often pointed out to us the caves where they stored their grain, and where they themselves hid during that terrible time. A year of famine had followed thewar, and some had starved to death. At the time we entered upon the work there was a great deal of destitution all about us; for some had not yet been able to grow grain, and they had no flocks to fall back upon as they usually had in time of grain famine.
Many of the white people in the country and in Bulawayo were continually talking about and expecting another uprising. They looked for it to come from these Matopo Hill natives, and some sought to warn us not to venture into this, the enemy's stronghold. We, however, living among them from day to day, saw no cause for fear.
The natives came to see us in large numbers. Sometimes fifty would appear in one day and crowd around the door of our tent, desiring to have a good view of the newcomers and their belongings. Many of them, especially the women and children, had never seen a white person before, or at most a white woman. Some three or four families had heard a little of Jesus, but the great majority knew absolutely nothing of the Gospel.
Our ignorance, both of the language and the people, led to many blunders, both ludicrous and otherwise. The desire to help them and to show them that we were their friends caused them often to take advantage of our kindness. We soon learned that the African is not so much interested in the things that are for the good of his soul as in that which ministers to his body and appetite. It was so difficult to know just what to do at all times, for they were destitute of nearly everything which we considered necessary for comfort. They were confirmedbeggars, and the more they received the more they wanted. The missionary opens his Bible, and reads, "He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat let him do likewise"; he then gets down on his knees and prays that the Lord might help the poor souls about him, but he often feels that his prayers do not ascend very high. What he needs to do is to get up and answer his own prayers.