NHANGUEPEPO.
“Arrived in Nhanguepepo by a walk of fifty-one miles from Dondo, on Saturday, June 1, 1889. At present we have but one missionary on this station, Brother Carl Rudolph, but he is doing the work of two or three by breaking in the native boys. He has a self-supporting store of varieties, a large herd of cattle, is building a stone wall for enlarged corral for the cattle, teaching and preaching daily, and preparing to put in a large crop of corn, beans, manioc, sweet potatoes, sugar cane, etc.
“This was designed for a receiving and training station for our newly arriving recruits from America, but instead it has become a training station for native boys who are acclimatized, who know the language of the country and the life of the people, and have many points of adaptability which a foreigner must spend years to acquire, and meantime is likely to get sick—home sick, and skip out. Yet native agency can’t be trained without competent men of God to train them. God has developed such from our first force whom we settled in Angola four years ago, who will do a wonderful and widely extended work, even if no more should come. If we can get more from home, who, like these, will stick, and do and die for Jesus in Africa, well; but otherwise, Angola, already self-supporting, except some help in repairing and enlarging our mission properties, will be worked by our present force of Americans and the natives themselves. We have the nucleus of a Methodist Episcopal Church in Nhanguepepo, now consisting of half-a-dozen saved boys, and others are seeking.
“On Sabbath, the 2d inst., I was late in rising from bed, just off a journey; indeed, I wished, at any rate, to spend part of the day in Sabbatic rest in that way. But, I was going to say, as I lay in bed, a blind man, whom I met here four years ago, came to see me. He is a native of Dondo, and learned there to read and write in Portuguese, and speaks that language as well as his own Kimbundu, butfor years he has been blind, and lives alone in a hut not far from our house. His name is Esessah. He expressed great pleasure in meeting me again, and Brother Rudolph gave him a seat by my bedside, and sat down near him. After the compliments of the occasion I said to myself: ‘This is my chance for Sunday morning preaching, which has been the habit of my life for the last forty-seven years. If the Holy Spirit will use me this morning we can get this poor man saved. He has groped in the dark a long time; to walk in the light for the remaining time of his pilgrimage, and then leap into the joyous brightness of eternal day, will be a blessed gain for this poor man.’ So I said: ‘Brother Ruldolph, I want to preach to this man, and have you put it in plain Portuguese or Kimbundu.’ Brother Carl is perfect in love to God and man, and his whole soul and life are devoted to such work, and he is well up in those languages. So I gave him myGospel Short Cutto the mind, conscience and heart of the heathen. The Spirit of God put Divine electric fire into it, which broke us down with weeping again and again. At the close of the discourse, the three of us went on our knees. I was led to pray that the Divine Spirit would make his repentance so deep and expressive, and his conversion to God so clear and distinctive, as to leave no ground for doubt in his mind, nor ours, and which would give point and force to his testimony to his heathen neighbors. So I and Carl led in prayer, then the blind heathen broke out in audible prayer, and wept, prayed and wept, till finally he submitted to treatment andreceivedthe Lord Jesus, the Great Physician, and was straightway pardoned and healed, and gave a clear testimony to the facts in his case.
“We did not call to see him on Monday. I thought it was well to leave him alone with God for a season, but on Tuesday, yesterday, Brother Carl and I went to his hut, and he received us joyfully. He is not at all a noisy man, but courteous, unobtrusive and very sensible, and in low, distinct articulation, he is a fluent talker. We had a long teaching talk with him, and heard his most clear and distinct testimony to the saving power of God in his head and heart. I led in vocal prayer, Carl followed and then Esessah prayed intelligently and earnestly. As we were leaving, Carl and he embraced each other and wept, and held each other and wept onfor some time: meantime, I was waiting in the path, and tearfully thanking God for such a sight in the midst of heathendom. Glory to God! The big rain drops are falling on us. A thunder-gust of glory will sweep through these mountains, soon followed by the regular ‘former and latter rains’ in this season. Glory to God! My eyes shall not dim much with age till I shall see these things. Let all the people who have been praying for us, praise God for the glory to be revealed.Wm. Taylor.”
FROM NHANGUEPEPO TO PUNGO ANDONGO.
“Thursday, June 6, 1889.—I left Nhangue at 6.30 this morning, with my two carriers, whom I seldom see on the path, being usually ahead of them. Two miles out I called to see the Assistant Commandante. He and the Commandante called to see me the other day, and of course I returned their call. A Commandante, appointed by the Portuguese Provincial Government, has charge of a detachment of soldiers, and is also a magistrate of a certain district of the Province. Some of them are Portuguese. The others, probably the larger proportion, are Africans, who have had some advantages of education. They have been courteous and kind to me and to my missionaries almost invariably, and we reciprocate cordially.
“Three miles on my way I called to pay my respects to Sr. Jacintho, a Portuguese trader, whom we used to call ‘the honeyman,’ because he occasionally, when we were strangers in a strange land, presented us with a bottle of honey to sweeten us up a bit. We bought of him some of our best cattle in starting to form our herd.
“In the forenoon I walked fourteen miles to Sangue. On my first trip over this path, to settle Joseph Wilks in Pungo Andongo, we spent a night at the house of the Commandante at Sangue.
“I had been overworked at Nhangue, and was not in good condition for walking that day, and, on reaching Sangue, soon found a corduroy bedstead in a private room, and laid me down to rest. I heard Brother Wilks say to our host, “Bispo doente, muito doente”—Bishop sick, very sick. I said to myself: “If my kind Fatherwill give me a refreshing night’s rest across these rough irregular poles, we will see before to-morrow night who will be the delicate brother.”
“In due time our host sent me a basin of delicious native soup, which refreshed me very much, and though I spent much of the night in turning over, I slept well in the intervals, and was up with the day-dawn and ready for a march of twenty-four miles. We waded through long reaches of sand in the path, which made wearisome walking for us. Wilks was good for a long pull, but he had no more to say about “Bisbo doente,” as the walk that day put him up for all he could do to keep up, and to hold out till we reached Pungo Andongo, a little before sunset. We were kindly received and entertained at the trading ‘factory’ of Sanza Laurie & Co.
“Marcus Zagury, a member of this firm, had visited us at Nhangue a few days before, and gave us full information and encouragement in regard to Pungo Andongo, as the place for planting a mission, and tendered us the hospitality of their house. The evening of our arrival had been set for an entertainment—a big dinner—for the Government officials and traders of the town at this house; so we made somewhat the acquaintance of those gentlemen, also of a Catholic priest, who was an East Indian. All spoke encouraging words to us, but of course did not engage to paddle our canoe for us. Next day we rented from Sr. Zagury, at a cheap rate, a pretty good house for a school and for residence of the mission family, and I left Brother Wilks in charge and returned to Nhangue.
“These are some of the remembrances that crowd on me today, as I lay down on the leaves for noon rest and lunch at Sangue. In the afternoon of to-day I walked nine miles further to ‘Queongwa’ (Kaongwa), not a town, but a camping-ground for carriers and travelers, and a house for upper-class natives, with some villages contiguous and a running stream of water the year round, which is of great utility in this country. Brother Withy, our Superintendent, has bought a sight here for planting a mission school for the towns of this vicinity.
“A resident here, who has always shown kindness to my missionaries,Sr. Candanga, met me in the path and gave me a welcome to his house of ‘wattle and daub.’ It is 60x18 feet, divides into two large end rooms and a central hall.
“One of these seemed to be reserved for strangers, furnished with a table, two or three chairs, and a European double bedstead with mattress and spread, which he put at my disposal. I had a good portable bed which I preferred to any other, but to honor his hospitality I spread my bedding on his bedstead and enjoyed a night of balmy sleep.
“I had walked twenty-three miles during the day, waded the waters eight times, and verified the truth—the ‘rest of a laboring man is sweet.’
“On Friday, June 7th, I was up at peep ‘o day, rolled up my bedding, took my lunch in my hand, and was on the path long before the sunshine struck the tops of the mountains, and walked to Pungo, about fourteen miles distant, by 11 A.M.
“My second tramp over this path was in company with Sister Wilks and Agnes, in August, 1889, on their way to join Brother Wilks at Pungo. Such was the immense avoirdupois of Sister W. that at Dondo we spent a week in trying to get carriers to take her thence to Nhangue. All our men travel on foot, but the ladies are carried by a couple of strong men—two also as alternates—in a hammock suspended from a long pole. We could find no carriers for her at Nhangue, so she walked fourteen miles to Sangue. On the way that day, we met Brother Wilks coming to meet wife and daughter. Agnes was carried and took a fever; the mother walking, and perspiring freely and sluicing the sewerage of her system, was in no danger of fever. When we reached Sangue, I hired a native to get four strong men to carry her next day to Pungo. He succeeded, but it was 8 A.M. before we could get them on to the path. We stopped at Queongwa for lunch. At 2 P.M., when we were ready and anxious to proceed on our journey, we found our carriers had just hung on the pot for boiling their breakfast. It was Saturday, and fourteen weary miles between us and Pongo, so Brother Wilks ordered them to their burdens: ‘No time now for cooking. You should have done that an hour ago, and we can’t wait any longer. We must be off now.’ The carriers replied: ‘We can’tgo any further to-day; we will camp right here, and rest till tomorrow.’
“I waited till their temper abated, and went to them, and said: ‘You have had a heavy load, boys, and I know you must be very tired and hungry; so, cook away, and eat a good breakfast, and then come on. I and this lady whom you have engaged to carry through to Pungo Andongo to-day, will walk on till you overtake us,’ Then without waiting for a reply, we took the path, and in about an hour afterward they overtook us and shouldered the ‘mulker grande’—woman large—and struggled on. We reached the mission house about 10 P.M., when the poor fellows were relieved of a heavy load from their shoulders, and I from my mind.
“On this day, June 7, 1889, when about a mile short of our mission house in Pungo, I was met by Bertie Withey, a wholly consecrated lad of sixteen and one half years. He was a boy of twelve when he, with his parents and three sisters younger than himself, enlisted for this work. These children, like their parents, walk humbly before God on the line of supreme loyalty and love. They are well up in the use of the Portuguese language, and in the Kimbundu. The native people here bear the name of ‘Umbunda’ plural, Mubunda singular. Kimbundu with them means language. So with them it would be tautology to say Kimbundu language.
“Our missionary occupants here at present are Chas. W. Gordon, Sister Withey, Bertie, Lottie and Flossie; the eldest sister, Stella, being with her father at Dondo. Sister Withey is quite unwell just now. She has passed through the fiery ordeal of bilious fever in this country a number of times, but lives in the light and love of holiness, and carries no anxious care of any sort a bit longer than the casting of ‘all her cares on Jesus who careth for her.’ Her husband and she came to this work under a conscious call from God, and consecrated themselves and their children to it for life. One of the stipulations was that, if either should be struck down by the hand of Death, the other should remain in the work and train the children to stick to it to the end of their lives.
“Now, while I write I hear Lottie and Flossie quietly conversing with each other in the Kimbundu, seemingly oblivious of the English language.
“Brother Gordon is one of the forty who came with me four years and four months ago. He is slender but symmetrical in his build, blue eyes, pleasant countenance, gentle and courteous, firmly adhering to the principles of truth and righteousness. He was rather delicate in health at first, but has grown strong and healthy by all sorts of hard work in the radius of our mission industries. He has a clear head, is a good school-teacher, a good wayside preacher of the Gospel to a crowd, or to one poor native, or to any dignitary of the Provincial Government, and walks in love, perfect love to God, and is in profound sympathy with men. Brother Withey and he, from years of experience in Massachusetts, are our trained merchants. With the surplus of their earnings, in that line during the past year, above self-support of this station, they have bought and paid for the new mission property, before mentioned, at Queongwa, and a mission farm of probably three hundred acres of good land, bounded on one side by an ever-running stream of water, with many valuable fruit trees and a substantial adobe house, 55x18 feet, divided into three rooms. They are this dry season putting on a new roof, and will put the whole premises under good repair. This is the industrial school farm of the Pungo Andongo mission, and is sixty yards short of a mile west of it.
“In competent hands, suitably located, a store, like the one here, constitutes an importantbranch of our industries. Conducted, as it is, on strict principles of truth and honesty, it sheds light into the commercial sphere of this country, and brings our missionary traders into personal contact with native carriers and merchants from a radius east and south, covering the countries of the Lundas, Kiokos, Bilundas, Libolas and still others, 500 or 600 miles distant from this place.
“The traders are of different European nationalities, and, in the main, are smooth and gentlemanly in their bearing toward their neighbors, and we always get on pleasantly with them; but they are free to say our ‘principles are entirely impracticable in this country and can’t succeed.’
“The popular method of business here is: On the arrival of a caravan, laden with rubber, beeswax, ivory, etc., (1) to serve its traders and carriers with free rations of rum; (2) free rations offood. With that they usually pass the first night in a large, well-covered shed built for their accommodation. Camp-fires, cooking, eating and drinking is the order in every direction. After the feasting, comes the dancing, with clapping of hands, and singing and shouting at the top of their stentorian voices. This is kept up through most of the night. (3) From the traders further, a free distribution of cheap fancy goods, dressing up the head men of the caravan in broadcloth coats and pants, highly-colored silk sashes and umbrellas, and in a display of these, with music, they march through the town and back to the camp.
REED DANCE BY MOONLIGHT.
“Then (4) comes the weighing of the rubber, wax, ivory, etc., and payment in cloth of various kinds and colors, flint-lock guns, powder, beads, knives and fancy goods in variety, and rum in huge bottles encased in willow wicker-work. In the ‘Mohamba’ of the carriers—a kind of long basket—five of these demijohns are placed, weighing from seventy to eighty pounds, to be carried often 500 or 600 miles.
“(5) ‘The dispatch,’ just before the departure of the caravan, which consists of throwing out into the crowd, caps, hats and toys in variety for a grab game of the carriers. I once saw two fellows grab a cap, who pulled and hauled and quarreled till a third fellow ran up with his knife and cut the cap in two, and stopt the strife.
“Our Christian traders provide some accommodations for shelter and comfort for native carriers and traders. Those who come for the first time call for rum.
“‘We don’t sell rum; don’t use, nor keep it in the store.’ Some fellows here, the other day, disputed Brother Gordon’s statement, saying, ‘Don’t I see it there,’ pointing to some cans of kerosene.
“‘Well, do you want to try some of that?’
“‘Yes; that is what we want.’
“So he drew some and passed it to them, saying, ‘Now, you had better put it to your nose first.’ One or two of them smelled it, and passed it back with a look of surprise and horror.
“‘Well, we want some tobacco.’
“‘We don’t use tobacco; don’t sell it; don’t keep it to sell.’
“‘Do you want to buy rubber?’
“‘Yes, I am ready to buy your rubber,’
“‘What will you give us in exchange for our rubber?’
“‘I will give you money, if you like; or give you cloth, rice, fish, sugar, soap, anything you want, except rum, tobacco, beads and trinkets—such things as can do you no good. We sell nothing but what will be useful to you.’
“‘How much you give us for our rubber?’
“‘When I examine to see its quality I will show you whatever you want, and how much I will give you for each ‘arroba’ (thirty-two pounds). We give you no ‘matebeesh’—gifts—like other traders, and can afford to give you a good price for your rubber. If you, then, think that you can do better elsewhere, you can take your rubber away to the best market you can find. We want you to do the best you can for yourselves; remember, the men who give you things so freely, cannot afford to do it out of their own pockets; they must therefore take it out of you in their prices of purchase or sale.’
“Some leave us quietly, but many remain, and see, and confess to a fair deal. Then comes a free friendly talk about their country, and their people, and a Gospel talk about ‘Nzambi’—God.
“The people who thus trade with us go away in every direction, telling their friends they have become acquainted with ‘another people,’
“Thus our holy brethren are making more than a missionary self-support, and business increasing daily, and not only have their regular Sabbath services in the Kimbundu, but are talking six days a week beside; from morning till night they are talking in the Kimbundu of Jesus and Salvation to people who listen attentively, and repeat with great accuracy and earnestness any new thing that comes into their ears.
“All this talk, which I have indicated through the English language, transpired in the Kimbundu, so that our missionary traders are daily learning the vernacular of the country much more rapidly and accurately than they could if confined to their libraries, especially as there was but a single fragmentary grammar, till one of our missionaries, Hèli Chatelain, learned from the people who speak accurately, and has since printed a grammar and the Gospel by John; but as these are just from the press, our people have become familiarwith the Kimbundu by direct and daily contact with the people without the aid of books.
“On Saturday, June 8th, Brother Gordon and Bertie slept alternately night after night at the farm-house, and in the morning see that the hired men get early to work, and look after the cattle and send them out to pasture, and then return in time for breakfast.
“I went to the farm-house early this morning and found Brother Gordon reading and explaining Scripture truth to the hired men in their own Kimbundu. When one grasped a new thought, he repeated it to the rest, with a glowing face.
“Our cattle herd here is not large, but growing, and of choice stock. They require daily attention. Any fresh wounds on any of them will soon mortify if not properly attended to. I saw Brother Gordon lasso a couple of young bullocks this morning, almost as dexterously as I used to see the Spaniards do it in California. It took him about a minute to lasso one, throw him, tie his legs, and put a bar across his neck, so that the animal was entirely helpless. The object was, daily to clean and dress a wound till fully healed.
“A wild plant grows plentifully in this country, called by the natives ‘Lukange,’ a decoction of which applied hot—not to scald—appears to be more effective than carbolic acid. First, a cleansing of the wound with soap and warm water; second, an application of the lukange by means of a syringe. Then, to prevent ‘flyblow’ and its consequences, a preparation of salt and baked tobacco, pulverized, is applied. The nicotine of tobacco, boiled out, is the great remedy used by Australian sheep growers for killing a bad breed of lice, which would otherwise destroy their flocks. Tobacco is certainly a very poisonous, destructive weed, and death to vermin.
“On Sabbath, 9th, Brother Gordon had a teaching and preaching meeting in the chapel at 10 A.M., then I preached a short discourse, and he interpreted into the Kimbundu. We had first and last about thirty native hearers. Some of them were greatly interested, and repeated to the rest the new thought that had just struck him.
“At the close, a soldier, who was among the most attentive ofthe hearers, said, ‘I want to turn to God, and receive Jesus and be saved.’
“Brother Gordon questioned him about giving up all his sins, and let Jesus take them all away.
“He said, ‘Yes, I’ll give up everything that is wrong, and let Jesus save me,’
“Then Brother Gordon asked if he had more than one wife?
“‘Yes, I have two; but I am willing to give up either the one or the other; but I want you to tell me which one I should give up?’ Then, just as we were hoping to help him to come to Jesus, he had to respond to a call to duty as a soldier, and left, and we have not seen him since. Brother Gordon knows him, and will seek opportunity to help him.
“Our mission house here, of solid adobe walls, 3 feet thick, is about 100 feet front by 20 wide, for 82 feet, and the remaining 18 feet forms an L extension back about 50 feet, which is the chapel; the 82 feet being divided into four apartments, one of which is the room for trade. Back of the house is an abundant supply of oranges, mangoes in their season, and some other varieties, the whole covering about half an acre of ground; ‘the best site in town’ for all our purposes. Our committee bought it, and paid for it over three years ago.
“On Monday, 10th, I again visited Brother Gordon at the farm this morning, and visited on the premises, near a large tree, the grave of dear Sister Dodson—Miss Brannon. They had been united in marriage but about six months. She had on her wedding garment when called by the Master, and went quickly into the royal guest chamber of the King. Her short and sure way from Boston to heaven was through Angola in Africa.
“To-day Brother Gordon and I took breakfast with Sr. Coimbra—“Costa & Coimbra,” the largest business firm in Pungo Andongo. We took breakfast with Sr. Coimbra, seven miles this side of Malange, nearly four years ago. He is a kind, social man of the world.
“On Tuesday, 11th, preparing for an early start to-morrow morning for Malange. Will go alone, of course, except the occasional sight of my two carriers, yet in ‘blessed fellowship divine,’ never alone nor lonely.Wm. Taylor.”
FROM PUNGO ANDONGO TO MALANGE.
“On Wednesday, 7 A.M., June 12th, I started from Pungo. My two carriers, engaged yesterday, had not reported at 7 A.M., so I started on my journey, leaving orders for them to join me at Korima, ten miles out.
“I waited at Korima nearly an hour when they arrived, so we lunched and rested till 1.30 P.M. I walked that P.M. fifteen miles, and lodged at Kalunda Quartel. Quartel is not a hotel, but nevertheless a lodging place for travelers who carry their own bed and provisions. It is a rude barracks, for a small detachment of soldiers, under a Commandante, who lives in his own residence contiguous. I meant to stop at the house of the Commandante, who attended our preaching at Pungo last Sabbath, and dined with us, and who expressed a strong desire to have us establish a mission at Kalunda. It was, however, an hour after dark when I arrived at the Quartel, and the soldiers said it was a long distance to the house of the Commandante, so I waited about an hour for my carriers, and then took my cold lunch, put up my bed in a room without doors, and slept well. Was up and off at 6.15 in the morning, having rolled up my bedstead and bedding, and taken my breakfast in the early dawn. I walked thirteen miles, and waited three hours for my carriers, which put my dinner off till 3, so I walked but six miles that evening, and lodged in a rude construction of poles, with roof, but sides not covered with mortar or grass. It gave shelter from dew and afforded fresh outdoor air, which is always my preference in this country. I found several native travelers, with a camp-fire blazing when I arrived, among whom was a woman, husband and little girl of about 6 years. I spoke kindly to the naked little thing, and the parents were delighted. After I retired I was entertained till I lost consciousness in sleep, by the singing of the little six-year-old, who never heard a Christian hymn or tune in her life. She sang the words and tunes of about half-a-dozen native songs, and when she seemed to run out of words she sang on, ‘La, la, la, la,’ I thought of the countless millions of little children in Africa, all heirs of ‘the free gift which is unto the justification of life,’ and as susceptible of being ‘trained up in theway they should go,’ as the children of England or America; but, I said, with tears, Where are the trainers? O thou Creator and Redeemer of mankind, how long, how long?
“Friday, 14th, I walked thirteen miles, lunched and rested a couple of hours, and six miles farther landed me in Malange. Just as I crossed the Malange River, I met Brothers Samuel J. and William H. Mead, and Robert Shields, accompanied by Mrs. Ardella and Miss Bertha Mead, mounted on bull backs, with portable organ, base viol, cornet, etc., on their way to Kolamosheeta, where I had lunched that day, to hold religious services.
“The people of that town are hungry for the truth of God. I begged them not to stop for me, but to go on to their appointment, but they replied that the people would not assemble till their arrival was announced, and said they ‘were going out at this time, thinking they might meet me there.’ So they returned and I accompanied them to the mission-house in Malange. Malange is sixty-two miles distant from Pungo Andongo.
“The fifty-one miles of travel from Dondo to Nhanguepepo is mainly through a region of rugged mountains and precipitous cliffs of solid rock, opening out into the long and widening grassy plateaus of Nhanguepepo. The thirty-eight miles from Nhangue to Pungo extend through and mainly across a series of ridges and hollows sparsely covered with scrubby timber. The soil not so rich, hence grass not so heavy and grass fires not so hot; therefore there is half a chance for trees to grow, with no chance at all from Dondo to Nhangue, except some very sappy varieties of but little value.
“From Pungo on for twenty miles the ridges are much broader and not so high as those described; there is more sand, less grass and heavier, but still scrub-timber. Then for eight or ten miles we cross low, beautifully rounded grassy ridges, with a little streams of water near the surface, about half a mile apart between the ridges. Then, for most of the way to Malange we cross ridges less fertile, much higher, with an ascent of from two to four miles. The whole line of march bears southeasterly. All appears to be a good grazing country, with many herds of cattle, but not a tithe of the number required to keep the grass down, and thus keep upgood short grass pasturage the year round, and preclude the great ‘prairie fires,’ which destroy the young timber and prevent the growth of forests. For many miles around Malange, there is a fair supply of good hard-wood timber in variety.
“Sam Mead, Ardella his wife, and Bertha his niece, and I came together to Malange, nearly four years ago. Sr. J. Preitas was then in charge of the long established business house of Sanza Laurie & Co., in Malange, and gave us the temporary use of a house for our missionaries. After a day or two here, he informed me that Sanza Laurie & Co. intended soon to close out their business in Malange, and that I had better buy their house and town lot on which it stood, containing an acre of land and some banana trees. The house was an extension of house added to house joined into solid walls, about one-third of wattle and earth, and the rest of adobe brick. The last one added, forty feet in length, was new, consisting simply of walls with no roof. The frontage of the whole was about 165 feet, by a width of 18 feet. I inquired: ‘What is the price of the whole property, house and land?’
“He replied: ‘You can have it for two hundred milreis, $214.’
“I said: ‘I’ll give that amount,’ and the bargain was closed in about as few words as I have written. It is worth four times that amount now. The plates, girders and timbers are nearly all of ant-proof, and almost everlasting hard-wood, most of which are as solid to-day apparently as when new. One of them has a fire-proof covering by means of a double roof. On the lower is a heavy layer of cement of adobe clay, precluding rats, rain and fire. Over this is a thatch roof of long native grass. On the sunny side it has kept dry and sound, but on the north side our brethren have put on new thatch, cleaned and whitewashed the rooms, and finished the new forty-foot room, and fitted it up for a school-room and chapel, which is the seventh room in the building.
“In the few days I was here, four years ago, Brother Sam and I selected and stept off a mission-farm adjoining our mission-house. He and Brother Gordon fenced, cleared and planted several acres in corn, beans, manioc, sweet potatoes, etc., and everything grew beautifully, but the brethren were kept indoors by illness for a few days, and just what an old Portuguese settler predicted came topass, their fencing was all stolen for firewood, and the cattle and hogs devoured every green thing from the premises. Bad outlook for self-support. It was in the midst of a ‘three years’ drought,’ which precluded the growth of supplies at our other Angola stations, but our farm was not far from the ‘laguna,’ a lake, a few hundred yards wide, and perhaps a mile long, occasioned by the spread of the Malange River over a plain, which gave moisture to the soil for a considerable distance from its shore. We did not seek to get nearer to the lake for fear of malaria, being warned of that peril by old residents.
“A fair share of the supplies for the first year of food, tools, and a little money, came to Malange for six missionaries, including Bertha, in her thirteenth year, with fresh supplies for the second year, and seven new missionaries to help to use them up, but all that was but to keep the wolf away, and afford means for the development of self-support. Sister Ardella’s health was so far gone, for months, that it was believed her life depended on her having apartments in a second story. But there were none in town, so a two-story house must be built. In the changes that were one way and another rapidly occurring, for the most part by attacks of home-sickness, that carried them off and clear out of the country, most of the work devolved on Brother Sam Mead, till two years ago his cousin, Brother Willie H. Mead and family moved hither from Nhangue, preceded by Brother Robert Shields, sent out by our Committee from Ireland. These have all stuck to the work here to which God called them, except that Edna Mead, a ripe Christian of about 12 years of age, at the call of God went up to join her sister, Nellie, in their heavenly home.
“The results of this unpromising attempt at self-support I will sketch in my next letter.Wm. Taylor.”
MISSIONARY SELF-SUPPORT AT MALANGE.
“Malange Station received, at the beginning, its proportion of cloth, provisions, tools and a little money to tide a small band of workers—Sam Mead, Ardella his wife, and Bertha Mead, of 13, hisniece, and two young men—through the first year, which proved to be the second of a ‘three years’ drought and famine.’
“So a partial supply was sent for the ensuing year to prevent suffering from want. Meantime, the ‘tent-making’ by the missionaries, to ‘make ends meet,’ would have sufficed in a pinch, but the subsidy was salutary and safe, for they were not of the sort to be surfeited and suffocated even by an excess of supplies if they had had them, taking real pleasure in ‘scratching’ for themselves. Two years were required for apprenticeship, experimenting in many things, with everything to learn essential to self-support.
“About the beginning of the third year, after various changes by the coming and going of new workers, the coming of Willie H. Mead, with his family from Nhanguepepo, to join his cousin, Sam—about the beginning of the third year, marked the period when self-support really began to abound.
“Minnie Mead, Willie’s wife, turned in $40 by her sewing machine. Hèli Chatelain an equal sum by teaching languages to some traders. Robert Shields, from his private purse, put in $22. Willie has put in $80 per year from the rents of some property he has in Vermont, his old home, and, within a few months after arrival, put in $200 from pit-sawing and selling lumber. Most of these sums, with about $100 worth of goods sent as a present from Ireland to Brother Shields, were used to stock a little store for a small commercial business, as one branch of industry which was felt to be specially needful.
“Most of the business of the labor market of Angola is transacted through copper coin currency. It is so difficult to procure and keep a supply of it on hand that to purchase it, even with gold, ten per cent. premium has to be paid. The patrons of a variety shop bring in for the purchase of things they require a good supply of the copper coin.
“Robert Shields, having served a regular apprenticeship to the grocery business in Ireland, with an additional experience in it of a year and a half, was appointed to take charge of this industry, and work it in connection with his studies, and special evangelizing among the villagers adjacent to Malange.
“The farm selected at the beginning was found to be too near thetown, and the whole work of ‘a season’ on it having been destroyed in a night, there was no ground of hope for anything better by a repetition of the experiment of fencing and farming there. So Sam Mead, in a state of semi-desperation, mounted one of his bulls and managed to struggle through grass as high as his head to explore the lake shore, along which he found a neglected farm, on which were growing many valuable fruit trees; he also discovered that the farm, save its lake-side boundary, was enclosed by a strong growing hedge, and contained a body of about 300 acres of black clay and loam of the most productive quality. He immediately sought for the owner—the heir to the man deceased, who had spent so much time, toil and money on it, and he bought and paid for it with money belonging to Ardella, his wife. He then went to work with a will, under a new inspiration of hope, assisted for a time by Brothers Rudolph and Gordon, and produced abundantly a variety of tropical and temperate zone products for food.
“The mechanical industries were under the special charge of Wm. H. Mead. His sons—Johnnie and Sammy, the former about 12, and the latter nearly 11—out of school-hours are valuable helpers in each department, alternating where needed most.
“Willie’s two pit-saws, in the two years he has been in Malange, have turned out $1,500 worth of planks and scantling, about half of which he sold, and used up the other half on improvements of mission property. To haul the logs from the forest, Sam had the oxen and Willie bought a huge Portuguese cart, with wheels of hard-wood, about four feet in diameter, and a hard-wood frame to match, all very strong and durable.
“The outlay of the earnings of these workers, for the past two years, over and above self-supporting subsistence, may be seen in the following exhibit:
“(1) The roofing and fitting up for school and chapel purposes of the unfinished hall, 18x40 feet, belonging to the block of buildings first bought for the mission. The girders, plates, rafters and collar beams are all of enduring hard-wood. The roof is double; the nether is covered with fire-proof clay; the upper with thatch grass. The shutters and doors, and frames for both, are of sawn hard-wood. Its slab benches, without backs, give quite a ‘rise’ to people alwaysaccustomed to sit on the ground. The cost of these improvements in material, labor and money is estimated to have been $300.
“(2) The farm-house, 15x20 feet; corn crib, about 6x11 feet, set on posts, capt with inverted tin-pans, to prevent the rats from getting up; and two out-houses, about 10x10 feet, and a corral of heavy logs for the cattle, cost a total of $100.
“(3) Willie Mead’s saw-pits, a shed, workshop and appliances, located in the mission yard, cost about $100.
“(4) A new mission-house on the same lot on which stands the old one. It is 24x30 feet, two stories high. The lower story is built of dressed stone, the upper of adobe brick, solid walls, below and above, three and one-half feet thick, with a second-story, veranda front and rear of the building. Double fire-proof roof—as the chapel roof before described. Doors, window shutters, and frames of both, together with the verandas and upper-story floors, are all sawn hard-wood. The lower floor and walks outside are of flag-stones. It is the only two-story house in Malange, and believed to be the only house in Angola furnished with a chimney and fireplace, which adds greatly to its comfort in the really cold weather of Malange at this season of the year. The upper story is used by Sam and Ardella, and about half a dozen of their adopted native children. The lower story has also sleeping accommodations, but is the dining-room for Sam, Ardella, Robert Shields and Bertha, and the school ‘internoes.’ The house is not large, but most symmetrical and substantial, and is prophetic of progress, and bears from the veranda facing the street a tall flag-staff from which floats the flag of our home country—the stars and stripes.
“The brethren estimate the cost of this building, in materials, money and labor, at $800. To buy all the materials, and depend on hiring workmen, it could not be done for that amount. It will be observed that the aggregate outlay for these improvements amounts to $1,300, not a dollar of which was furnished by our Transit and Building Fund Society; the brethren preferring to do it themselves than to ask for or receive aid from home. They are now engaged in building a wall round our Malange Mission premises 1,000 feet long.
“(5) The farm Brother Sam bought, with its field of sugar cane, so thickly set as to defy anything short of an elephant a passage through it; its fruit orchard; its live stock of twenty herd of cattle, including three yoke of oxen; and eleven breeding sows and male, and chickens, is worth in the market one thousand dollars.
“As soon as Sam began to inquire for the owner, others began to compete with him as bidders for it, so, to avoid the peril of delay, he bought it at the earliest possible moment, and had it deeded to himself, and has held it in good faith for the mission. During my recent visit to Malange, I offered to refund Ardella’s money with interest.
“Sam and Ardella laid the subject before the Lord, and returned answer, that, having given themselves and all they have to God for his self-supporting missions in Africa, they refuse a refund; but will immediately deed the farm and all the appurtenances thereunto belonging to the Transit and Building Fund Society, to be held in trust for the self-supporting missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church. I put the matter into the hands of Brother C. W. Gordon, our legal attorney, and the conveyance will be made, no doubt, before this MS. can be printed.
“The building of the new house has absorbed a large proportion of the stock in trade of their little store. They were quite disinclined to allow me to help them stock it up a bit, but I prevailed on them to accept the small amount of $214.
“As Willie Mead is a noted mechanical genius, on the short-cut-cheap-line, adapted to a country like this, and as Malange has greatly the advantage of any of our other Angola missions in timber supply, and the farthest inland, he should have an outfit of tools and machinery for a few branches of industry well adapted to that locality. This need has been in part provided for. Our Committee has sent a new supply of farming implements and carpenter’s tools for Malange, soon to arrive.
“I have, on my return trip to the sea, ordered them a turning lathe from Nhangue; also a farmer’s outfit, the gift of Thomas Walker & Sons, of England; and have sent from Dondo a blacksmith’s anvil, vice, tongs, etc. What Malange yet needs is a small steam-engine, of four or five horse-power, with ‘arbor’ and belting,and other appliances, and a thousand feet of small piping for pumping water, to run by steam, (1) their sugar cane crushing mill; (2) their corn meal grinding mill; (3) their turning lathe; (4) a small circular saw of eighteen or twenty inches diameter, also a small circular cross-cut saw, the saw to be sent from home with the engine, belting, and water-piping. We don’t want for Malange a saw mill, big engine, or anything costly or too heavy for easy transport on the heads of natives 150 miles from Dondo to Malange. Willie Mead did not ask for these things, but needs them for mission industrial teaching, in connection with his powerful preaching in the Portuguese language. He was proposing to sell his little property in Vermont, to use the money derivable from the sale of his homestead, to buy the engine, etc., as above, for Malange Mission, but I protest against that. Such men as the Meads are just the men we can afford to help with certainty of broad self-supporting missionary independency and wide-spread efficiency, without danger of dependency.Wm. Taylor.”
RETURN FROM MALANGE TO DONDO.
“I was planning to leave Malange, Monday, 24th of June, but ‘Magady was dying,’ so I yielded to the request of our brethren and sisters, and postponed till Wednesday, the 26th. Magady was a ‘Labola boy,’ who, as a little fellow, gave himself to Sam and Arda, nearly four years ago. He was very black, but pronounced by some as ‘the most beautiful boy they ever saw.’ The people on the south side of the Coanza, from its mouth up for 250 miles, are called Kasamas; thence on for 200 or 300 miles, a similar people are called the Libólos. Neither will allow the Portuguese people to travel through their country.
“Magady’s story was that his parents were dead, and that his uncle treated him so badly he ran away from his country, and became cook for the Malange mission. He was taught to know, to fear and to love the Lord, and to sing our hymns. For about two years he was a consistent Christian. Then, through the intrigues of an influential, designing, bad man, he was enticed into bad company, and forsook the Lord. Then he was visited by a disease ofhis head. He would be walking along, and fall as suddenly as if shot by a Remington rifle, and lie some time in a state of insensibility, but that was as nothing compared with severe and sudden pains in his head that caused him to scream aloud at all hours, day and night. None but himself attempted to diagnose his case. He said ‘Gan N’Zambi’ sent it on him for his wicked departure from Him, and would destroy his body, but had forgiven him, and washed his spirit, and that he was sure he would soon go to live with God, and was anxiously waiting for the call of the King. About 2 P. M. Monday, June 24th, he died. Willie Mead made him a hard-wood coffin, and lined and covered it with white cotton cloth, and he was laid in a grave six feet deep in our own mission burial-ground, where dear Edna Mead sleeps. I conducted the funeral service, about thirty persons being present—a ‘brand snatched from the burning,’ our first Angola representative in heaven.
“During my sojourn in Malange, this trip, I slept in my own bed, as usual, set up in the second-story veranda of our new house, overlooking the street. The nights were very cold and the winds very high, but I rested sweetly, and improved the tone of my health. For two years I had endured an unmitigated high pressure of care and anxiety, on account of the combinations against the success of my work, within and without, front and rear, threatening the life of my missions. But for the great kindness and care of my gracious God and Father it would have killed me. Viewing the blessed harmony and efficiency of our workers from Loanda, and on for 390 miles to Malange, I set up my Ebenezer, and wept, wept, and praised God softly, softly. Then I rested my weary spirit on the bosom of Jesus, and resigned my way-worn body to sleep. There, in the breezes of the high veranda, days and nights together, I slept and slept, and waked, only to say ‘thank God,’ and slept again. Then I got up feeling as fresh as the morning. I bade adieu to my kindred dear in Malange, and left at a quarter to eight Wednesday morning, June 26th, and Friday P.M. reached Pungo Andongo, and had a blessed two days’ sojourn with Brother Gordon, Sisters Withey, Bertha, Lottie and Flossie—holy, lovely people. Brother Gordon is a master in the Portuguese and Kimbundu. We preached an hour Sunday A.M. I knew his rendering into Kimbundu wasclear and forcible, by its manifest effect on the hearers. It was their regular chapel service for each Sabbath. The soldier who was awakened on my way out has been called away on duty, so that we can’t report progress in his case, but half-a-dozen men, or more, came forward on this occasion as seekers of pardon, and prayed audibly, but did not appear to enter into life.
“I left for Nhangue, Monday morning, July 1st. Brother Gordon accompanied me fourteen miles to Queongwa, to show me a mission farm Brother Withey recently bought there, of probably 250 acres. We went through it that afternoon, from end to end. It is bounded on the west by a bold running stream, and on the north by the caravan path, stretching across a ridge of fertile soil over 200 rods wide. The former owner was with us, and wanted to sell us the lower end of the same ridge, extending from this path about 200 rods to the hollow, northward, where it is bounded by another little river, till it flows into the one that bounds the whole tract on the west side, and has another shallow stream flowing through the addition near its eastern boundary. So, as this new survey, of about 200 acres, was offered to us at a very small figure, we bought it. The former purchase from self-supporting earnings, has already been conveyed to the T. and B. F. Soc. for the M. E. Church, and this will be, or is by this time.
“Brother Gordon is a symmetrical, lovely character, and efficient in everything he takes hold of. When Brother Withey and he took hold of our little store in Pungo a little over a year ago, its assets were $200, now over $1,000, and the preaching done across the counter in all holy conversation and honest dealing, is a power for God in that centre of far-reaching influence.
“I reached Nhangue on Tuesday P.M., and rested Wednesday till 4 P.M. We had a preaching and baptismal service. Brother Rudolph has had several young natives converted during my absence. Here, as at Malange, many candidates for baptism we had to put off for better preparation. We baptized none of responsible years who were not well recommended by missionaries who had been training them for many months, and who were assured, from their profession and lives, of real conversion to God, and declined to baptize any children whose parents were not preparedpublicly to pledge themselves to teach or have their children taught their baptismal relation and obligations to God, and to trust Him for His baptismal pledges to them. Those rejected were disappointed. However, on Wednesday P.M., I baptized twenty-one little children, and several converted lads, and five new probationers were added to our native church, making thirteen natives at Nhanguepepo, and twenty-one at Malange.
“On Thursday morning, Brother Karl accompanied me as far as Nellie Mead’s grave, under a shade tree, about two rods from the caravan trail. A construction of solid masonry, about 5x8 feet, and two feet high, covers her consecrated bones, all given to God before she left America, and laid at the front, according to her covenant, to live and die for Jesus in Africa. She was a natural musician, and has gone to take lessons where ‘the new song’ is attuned to the ‘harpers’ of the melody of heaven. She was one of our children, of the same age, but less stature, of Bertha Mead. Dear little Willie Hicks sleeps beside her, and will, with her, wake up at the first call, early in the morning.
“I bade dear Karl adieu, and walked that day twenty-six miles, and camped at Kasoki, and next day, July 5th, walked twenty-five miles, and put up with dear Brother Withey and Stella, at our mission-house at Dondo. I thus completed my walk of 300 miles with less weariness than the same route cost me nearly four years ago. Glory to God, my patient loving Father in heaven and here in the mountains and vales in Africa!Wm. Taylor.”
Writing in September, 1889, Bishop Taylor says of his Congo missions:
“Vivi is about 100 miles from the ocean, on the north side of the Congo River.
“Old Vivi, founded by Mr. Stanley, is reached by climbing a steep ascent of half a mile or more from the steamboat landing and Government warehouses at the river-side. It is now entirely deserted. Proceeding by the same road along the slope of the ridge on which old Vivi stands, and thence across a deep glen and up another steep hill, we reach ‘Vivi Top,’ the site of the first capital of the State. It is located on a broad and beautiful plateau, commanding a full view of several miles of the river with its whirlpools and sweepingcurrents. The villages of Matadi, Tundua, the site of Underhill Mission of the English Baptists, and several trading stations, all dressed in white paint and lime, stand out and grace the scene on the south bank of the great river.
“The Government imported and built several large houses of wood and iron at Vivi. One of the houses, I was informed, cost the Governor-General $17,000. We could have bought it for $9,000, but had to decline the generous offer for lack of means.