diff options
Diffstat (limited to '16657.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 16657.txt | 8428 |
1 files changed, 8428 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/16657.txt b/16657.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..662e57f --- /dev/null +++ b/16657.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8428 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Book of Missionary Heroes, by Basil Mathews + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Book of Missionary Heroes + +Author: Basil Mathews + +Release Date: September 5, 2005 [EBook #16657] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF MISSIONARY HEROES *** + + + + +Produced by Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Some Footnotes in this text contain special +characters, including a, e, and o with superior macron, represented by +[=a], [=e], and [=o], and a and u with superior breve, represented by +[)a] and [)u], to indicate pronunciation of native-language words.] + + + + +THE BOOK OF MISSIONARY HEROES + +BY + +BASIL MATHEWS, M.A. + +_Author of "The Argonauts of Faith," +"The Riddle of Nearer Asia," +etc._ + + +NEW YORK + +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + +_Copyright, 1922,_ + +_By George H. Doran Company_ + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + +PROLOGUE THE RELAY RACE 9 + +BOOK I: THE PIONEERS + + CHAPTER + I THE HERO OF THE LONG TRAIL (_St. Paul_) 19 + II THE MEN ON THE SHINGLE BEACH (_Wilfrid of Sussex_) 30 + III THE KNIGHT OF A NEW CRUSADE (_Raymond Lull_) 36 + IV FRANCIS COEUR-DE-LION (_St. Francis of Assisi_) 47 + +BOOK II: THE ISLAND ADVENTURERS + + V THE ADVENTUROUS SHIP (_The Duff_) 65 + VI THE ISLAND BEACON FIRES (_Papeiha_) 72 + VII THE DAYBREAK CALL (_John Williams_) 80 + VIII KAPIOLANI, THE HEROINE OF HAWAII (_Kapiolani_) 86 + IX THE CANOE OF ADVENTURE (_Elikana_) 92 + X THE ARROWS OF SANTA CRUZ (_Patteson_) 103 + XI FIVE KNOTS IN A PALM LEAF (_Patteson_) 108 + XII THE BOY OF THE ADVENTUROUS HEART (_Chalmers_) 113 + XIII THE SCOUT OF PAPUA (_Chalmers_) 118 + XIV A SOUTH SEA SAMARITAN (_Ruatoka_) 126 + +BOOK III: THE PATHFINDERS OF AFRICA + + XV THE MAN WHO WOULD GO ON (_Livingstone_) 131 + XVI A BLACK PRINCE OF AFRICA (_Khama_) 136 + XVII THE KNIGHT OF THE SLAVE GIRLS (_George Grenfell_) 150 + XVIII "A MAN WHO CAN TURN HIS HAND TO ANYTHING" (_Mackay_) 158 + XIX THE ROADMAKER (_Mackay_) 164 + XX FIGHTING THE SLAVE TRADE (_Mackay_) 172 + XXI THE BLACK APOSTLE OF THE LONELY LAKE (_Shomolakae_) 186 + XXII THE WOMAN WHO CONQUERED CANNIBALS (_Mary Slessor_) 196 + +BOOK IV: HEROINES AND HEROES OF PLATEAU AND DESERT + + XXIII SONS OF THE DESERT (_Abdallah and Sabat_) 213 + XXIV A RACE AGAINST TIME (_Henry Martyn_) 224 + XXV THE MOSES OF THE ASSYRIANS (_Dr. Shedd_) 236 + XXVI AN AMERICAN NURSE IN THE GREAT WAR (_E.D. Cushman_) 249 + XXVII ON THE DESERT CAMEL TRAIL (_Archibald Forder_) 260 + XXVIII THE FRIEND OF THE ARAB (_Archibald Forder_) 271 + + + + +THE BOOK OF MISSIONARY HEROES + + + + +PROLOGUE + +THE RELAY-RACE + + +The shining blue waters of two wonderful gulfs were busy with fishing +boats and little ships. The vessels came under their square sails and +were driven by galley-slaves with great oars. + +A Greek boy standing, two thousand years ago, on the wonderful +mountain of the Acro-Corinth that leaps suddenly from the plain above +Corinth to a pinnacle over a thousand feet high, could see the boats +come sailing from the east, where they hailed from the Piraeus and +Ephesus and the marble islands of the AEgean Sea. Turning round he +could watch them also coming from the West up the Gulf of Corinth +from the harbours of the Gulf and even from the Adriatic Sea and +Brundusium. + +In between the two gulfs lay the Isthmus of Corinth to which the men +on the ships were sailing and rowing. + +The people were all in holiday dress for the great athletic sports +were to be held on that day and the next,--the sports that drew, in +those ancient days, over thirty thousand Greeks from all the country +round; from the towns on the shores of the two gulfs and from the +mountain-lands of Greece,--from Parnassus and Helicon and Delphi, +from Athens and the villages on the slopes of Hymettus and even from +Sparta. + +These sports, which were some of the finest ever held in the whole +world, were called--because they were held on this isthmus--the +Isthmian Games. + +The athletes wrestled. They boxed with iron-studded leather +straps over their knuckles. They fought lions brought across the +Mediterranean (the Great Sea as they called it) from Africa, and +tigers carried up the Khyber Pass across Persia from India. They flung +spears, threw quoits and ran foot-races. Amid the wild cheering of +thirty thousand throats the charioteers drove their frenzied horses, +lathered with foam, around the roaring stadium. + +One of the most beautiful of these races has a strange hold on the +imagination. It was a relay-race. This is how it was run. + +Men bearing torches stood in a line at the starting point. Each man +belonged to a separate team. Away in the distance stood another row of +men waiting. Each of these was the comrade of one of those men at the +starting point. Farther on still, out of sight, stood another row and +then another and another. + +At the word "Go" the men at the starting point leapt forward, their +torches burning. They ran at top speed towards the waiting men and +then gasping for breath, each passed his torch to his comrade in the +next row. He, in turn, seizing the flaming torch, leapt forward and +dashed along the course toward the next relay, who again raced on and +on till at last one man dashed past the winning post with his torch +burning ahead of all the others, amid the applauding cheers of the +multitude. + +The Greeks, who were very fond of this race, coined a proverbial +phrase from it. Translated it runs: + +"Let the torch-bearers hand on the flame to the others" or "Let those +who have the light pass it on." + + * * * * * + +That relay-race of torch-bearers is a living picture of the wonderful +relay-race of heroes who, right through the centuries, have, with +dauntless courage and a scorn of danger and difficulty, passed through +thrilling adventures in order to carry the Light across the continents +and oceans of the world. + +The torch-bearers! The long race of those who have borne, and still +carry the torches, passing them on from hand to hand, runs before us. +A little ship puts out from Seleucia, bearing a man who had caught +the fire in a blinding blaze of light on the road to Damascus. Paul +crosses the sea and then threads his way through the cities of Cyprus +and Asia Minor, passes over the blue AEgean to answer the call from +Macedonia. We see the light quicken, flicker and glow to a steady +blaze in centre after centre of life, till at last the torch-bearer +reaches his goal in Rome. + + "Yes, without cheer of sister or of daughter, + Yes, without stay of father or of son, + Lone on the land and homeless on the water + Pass I in patience till the work be done." + +Centuries pass and men of another age, taking the light that Paul had +brought, carry the torch over Apennine and Alp, through dense forests +where wild beasts and wilder savages roam, till they cross the North +Sea and the light reaches the fair-haired Angles of Britain, on whose +name Augustine had exercised his punning humour, when he said, "Not +Angles, but Angels." From North and South, through Columba and Aidan, +Wilfred of Sussex and Bertha of Kent, the light came to Britain. + +"Is not our life," said the aged seer to the Mercian heathen king as +the Missionary waited for permission to lead them to Christ, "like a +sparrow that flies from the darkness through the open window into this +hall and flutters about in the torchlight for a few moments to fly out +again into the darkness of the night. Even so we know not whence our +life comes nor whither it goes. This man can tell us. Shall we not +receive his teaching?" So the English, through these torch-bearers, +come into the light. + +The centuries pass by and in 1620 the little _Mayflower_, bearing +Christian descendants of those heathen Angles--new torch-bearers, +struggles through frightful tempests to plant on the American +Continent the New England that was indeed to become the forerunner of +a New World.[1] + +A century and a half passes and down the estuary of the Thames creeps +another sailing ship. + +The Government officer shouts his challenge: + +"What ship is that and what is her cargo?" + +"The _Duff_," rings back the answer, "under Captain Wilson, bearing +Missionaries to the South Sea." + +The puzzled official has never heard of such beings! But the little +ship passes on and after adventures and tempests in many seas at last +reaches the far Pacific. There the torch-bearers pass from island +to island and the light flames like a beacon fire across many a blue +lagoon and coral reef. + +One after another the great heroes sail out across strange seas and +penetrate hidden continents each with a torch in his hand. + +Livingstone, the lion-hearted pathfinder in Africa, goes out as the +fearless explorer, the dauntless and resourceful missionary, faced by +poisoned arrows and the guns of Arabs and marched with only his black +companions for thousands of miles through marsh and forest, over +mountain pass and across river swamps, in loneliness and hunger, often +with bleeding feet, on and on to the little hut in old Chitambo's +village in Ilala, where he crossed the river. Livingstone is the +Coeur-de-Lion of our Great Crusade. + +John Williams, who, in his own words, could "never be content with +the limits of a single reef," built with his own hands and almost +without any tools on a cannibal island the wonderful little ship _The +Messenger of Peace_ in which he sailed many thousands of miles from +island to island across the Pacific Ocean. + +These are only two examples of the men whose adventures are more +thrilling than those of our story books and yet are absolutely true, +and we find them in every country and in each of the centuries. + +So--as we look across the ages we + + "See the race of hero-spirits + Pass the torch from hand to hand." + +In this book the stories of a few of them are told as yarns to boys +and girls round a camp-fire. Every one of the tales is historically +true, and is accurate in detail. + +In that ancient Greek relay-race the prize to each winner was simply a +wreath of leaves cut by a priest with a golden knife from trees in the +sacred grove near the Sea,--the grove where the Temple of Neptune, the +god of the Ocean, stood. It was just a crown of wild olive that would +wither away. Yet no man would have changed it for its weight in gold. + +For when the proud winner in the race went back to his little city, +set among the hills, with his already withering wreath, all the people +would come and hail him a victor and wave ribbons in the air. A great +sculptor would carve a statue of him in imperishable marble and it +would be set up in the city. And on the head of the statue of the +young athlete was carved a wreath. + +In the great relay-race of the world many athletes--men and +women--have won great fame by the speed and skill and daring with +which they carried forward the torch and, themselves dropping in their +tracks, have passed the flame on to the next runner; Paul, Francis, +Penn, Livingstone, Mackay, Florence Nightingale, and a host of others. +And many who have run just as bravely and swiftly have won no fame +at all though their work was just as great. But the fame or the +forgetting really does not matter. The fact is that the race is still +running; _it has not yet been won_. Whose team will win? That is what +matters. + +The world is the stadium. Teams of evil run rapidly and teams of good +too. + +The great heroes and heroines whose story is told in this book have +run across the centuries over the world to us. Some of them are alive +to-day, as heroic as those who have gone. But all of them say the same +thing to us of the new world who are coming after them: + + "Take the torch." + +The greatest of them all, when he came to the very end of his days, as +he fell and passed on the Torch to others, said: + + "I have run my course." + +But to us who are coming on as Torch-bearers after him he spoke in +urgent words--written to the people at Corinth where the Isthmian +races were run: + + "Do you not know that they which run in a race all run, but one wins + the prize? + So run, that ye may be victors." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: See "The Argonauts of Faith" by Basil Mathews. (Doran.)] + + + + +Book One: THE PIONEERS + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE HERO OF THE LONG TRAIL + +_St. Paul_ + +(Dates, b. A.D. 6, d. A.D. 67[2]) + + +_The Three Comrades._ + +The purple shadows of three men moved ahead of them on the tawny +stones of the Roman road on the high plateau of Asia Minor one bright, +fresh morning.[3] They had just come out under the arched gateway +through the thick walls of the Roman city of Antioch-in-Pisidia. The +great aqueduct of stone that brought the water to the city from the +mountains on their right[4] looked like a string of giant camels +turned to stone. + +Of the three men, one was little more than a boy. He had the oval face +of his Greek father and the glossy dark hair of his Jewish mother. +The older men, whose long tunics were caught up under their girdles +to give their legs free play in walking, were brown, grizzled, sturdy +travellers. They had walked a hundred leagues together from the +hot plains of Syria, through the snow-swept passes of the Taurus +mountains, and over the sun-scorched levels of the high plateau.[5] +Their muscles were as tireless as whipcord. Their courage had not +quailed before robber or blizzard, the night yells of the hyena or the +stones of angry mobs. + +For the youth this was his first adventure out into the glorious, +unknown world. He was on the open road with the glow of the sun on his +cheek and the sting of the breeze in his face; a strong staff in his +hand; with his wallet stuffed with food--cheese, olives, and some +flat slabs of bread; and by his side his own great hero, Paul. Their +sandals rang on the stone pavement of the road which ran straight as +a strung bowline from the city, Antioch-in-Pisidia, away to the west. +The boy carried over his shoulder the cloak of Paul, and carried that +cloak as though it had been the royal purple garment of the Roman +Emperor himself instead of the worn, faded, travel-stained cloak of a +wandering tent-maker. + +The two older men, whose names were Paul the Tarsian and Silas, had +trudged six hundred miles. Their younger companion, whose name was +"Fear God," or Timothy as we say, with his Greek fondness for perfect +athletic fitness of the body, proudly felt the taut, wiry muscles +working under his skin. + +On they walked for day after day, from dawn when the sun rose behind +them to the hour when the sun glowed over the hills in their faces. +They turned northwest and at last dropped down from the highlands of +this plateau of Asia Minor, through a long broad valley, until they +looked down across the Plain of Troy to the bluest sea in the world. + +Timothy's eyes opened with astonishment as he looked down on such a +city as he had never seen--the great Roman seaport of Troy. The marble +Stadium, where the chariots raced and the gladiators fought, gleamed +in the afternoon light. + +The three companions could not stop long to gaze. They swung easily +down the hill-sides and across the plain into Troy, where they took +lodgings. + +They had not been in Troy long when they met a doctor named Luke. We +do not know whether one of them was ill and the doctor helped him; we +do not know whether Doctor Luke (who was a Greek) worshipped, when +he met them, AEsculapius, the god of healing of the Greek people. The +doctor did not live in Troy, but was himself a visitor. + +"I live across the sea," Luke told his three friends--Paul, Silas and +Timothy--stretching his hand out towards the north. "I live," he would +say proudly, "in the greatest city of all Macedonia--Philippi. It is +called after the great ruler Philip of Macedonia." + +Then Paul in his turn would be sure to tell Doctor Luke what it was +that had brought him across a thousand miles of plain and mountain +pass, hill and valley, to Troy. This is how he would tell the story in +such words as he used again and again: + +"I used to think," he said, "that I ought to do many things to oppose +the name of Jesus of Nazareth. I had many of His disciples put into +prison and even voted for their being put to death. I became so +exceedingly mad against them that I even pursued them to foreign +cities. + +"Then as I was journeying[6] to Damascus, with the authority of the +chief priests themselves, at mid-day I saw on the way a light from the +sky, brighter than the blaze of the sun, shining round about me and my +companions. And, as we were all fallen on to the road, I heard a voice +saying to me: + +"'Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick +against the goad.' + +"And I said, 'Who are you, Lord?' + +"The answer came: 'I am Jesus, whom you persecute.'" + +Then Paul went on: + +"I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision; but I told those in +Damascus and in Jerusalem and in all Judaea, aye! and the foreign +nations also, that they should repent and turn to God. + +"Later on," said Paul, "I fell into a trance, and Jesus came again +to me and said, 'Go, I will send you afar to the Nations.' That (Paul +would say to Luke) is why I walk among perils in the city; in perils +in the wilderness; in perils in the sea; in labour and work; in hunger +and thirst and cold, to tell people everywhere of the love of God +shown in Jesus Christ."[7] + + +_The Call to Cross the Sea._ + +One night, after one of these talks, as Paul was asleep in Troy, he +seemed to see a figure standing by him. Surely it was the dream-figure +of Luke, the doctor from Macedonia, holding out his hands and pleading +with Paul, saying, "Come over into Macedonia and help us." + +Now neither Paul nor Silas nor Timothy had ever been across the sea +into the land that we now call Europe. But in the morning, when Paul +told his companions about the dream that he had had, they all agreed +that God had called them to go and deliver the good news of the +Kingdom to the people in Luke's city of Philippi and in the other +cities of Macedonia. + +So they went down into the busy harbour of Troy, where the singing +sailor-men were bumping bales of goods from the backs of camels into +the holds of the ships, and they took a passage in a little coasting +ship. She hove anchor and was rowed out through the entrance between +the ends of the granite piers of the harbour. The seamen hoisting the +sails, the little ship went gaily out into the AEgean Sea. + +All day they ran before the breeze and at night anchored under the lee +of an island. At dawn they sailed northward again with a good wind, +till they saw land. Behind the coast on high ground the columns of +a temple glowed in the sunlight. They ran into a spacious bay and +anchored in the harbour of a new city--Neapolis as it was called--the +port of Philippi. + +Landing from the little ship, Paul, Silas, Timothy and Luke climbed +from the harbour by a glen to the crest of the hill, and then on, for +three or four hours of hard walking, till their sandals rang on +the pavement under the marble arch of the gate through the wall of +Philippi. + +_Flogging and Prison._ + +As Paul and his friends walked about in the city they talked with +people; for instance, with a woman called Lydia, who also had come +across the sea from Asia Minor where she was born. She and her +children and slaves all became Christians. So the men and women of +Philippi soon began to talk about these strange teachers from the +East. One day Paul and Silas met a slave girl dressed in a flowing, +coloured tunic. She was a fortune-teller, who earned money for her +masters by looking at people and trying to see at a glance what they +were like so that she might tell their fortunes. The fortune-telling +girl saw Paul and Silas going along, and she stopped and called out +loud so that everyone who went by might hear: "These men are the +slaves of the Most High God. They tell you the way of Salvation." + +The people stood and gaped with astonishment, and still the girl +called out the same thing, until a crowd began to come round. Then +Paul turned round and with sternness in his voice spoke to the evil +spirit in the girl and said: "In the Name of Jesus Christ, I order you +out of her." + +From that day the girl lost her power to tell people's fortunes, so +that the money that used to come to her masters stopped flowing. They +were very angry and stirred up everybody to attack Paul and Silas. A +mob collected and searched through the streets until they found them. +Then they clutched hold of their arms and robes, shouting: "To the +praetors! To the praetors!" The praetors were great officials who sat in +marble chairs in the Forum, the central square of the city. + +The masters of the slave girl dragged Paul and Silas along. At +their heels came the shouting mob and when they came in front of the +praetors, the men cried out: + +"See these fellows! Jews as they are, they are upsetting everything in +the city. They tell people to take up customs that are against the Law +for us as Romans to accept." + +"Yes! Yes!" yelled the crowd. "Flog them! Flog them!" + +The praetors, without asking Paul or Silas a single question as to +whether this was true, or allowing them to make any defence, were +fussily eager to show their Roman patriotism. Standing up they gave +their orders: + +"Strip them, flog them." + +The slaves of the praetors seized Paul and Silas and took their robes +from their backs. They were tied by their hands to the whipping-post. +The crowd gathered round to see the foreigners thrashed. + +The lictors--that is the soldier-servants of the praetors--untied their +bundles of rods. Then each lictor brought down his rod with cruel +strokes on Paul and Silas. The rods cut into the flesh and the blood +flowed down. + +Then their robes were thrown over their shoulders, and the two men, +with their tortured backs bleeding, were led into the black darkness +of the cell of the city prison; shackles were snapped on to their +arms, and their feet were clapped into stocks. Their bodies ached; the +other prisoners groaned and cursed; the filthy place stank; sleep was +impossible. + +But Paul and Silas did not groan. They sang the songs of their own +people, such as the verses that Paul had learned--as all Jewish +children did--when he was a boy at school. For instance-- + + God is our refuge and strength, + A very present help in trouble. + Therefore will we not fear, though the earth do change, + And though the mountains be moved in the heart of the seas; + Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, + Though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. + +As they sang there came a noise as though the mountains really were +shaking. The ground rocked; the walls shook; the chains were loosened +from the stones; the stocks were wrenched apart; their hands and feet +were free; the heavy doors crashed open. It was an earthquake. + +The jailor leapt to the entrance of the prison. The moonlight shone on +his sword as he was about to kill himself, thinking his prisoners had +escaped. + +"Do not harm yourself," shouted Paul. "We are all here." + +"Torches! Torches!" yelled the jailor. + +The jailor, like all the people of his land, believed that earthquakes +were sent by God. He thought he was lost. He turned to Paul and Silas +who, he knew, were teachers about God. + +"Sirs," he said, falling in fear on the ground, "what must I do to be +saved?" + +"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ," they replied, "and you and your +household will all be saved." + +The jailor's wife then brought some oil and water, and the jailor +washed the poor wounded backs of Paul and Silas and rubbed healing oil +into them. + +The night was now passing and the sun began to rise. There was a tramp +of feet. The lictors who had thrashed Paul and Silas marched to +the door of the prison with an order to free them. The jailor was +delighted. + +"The praetors have sent to set you free," he said. "Come out then and +go in peace." + +He had the greatest surprise in his life when, instead of going, Paul +turned and said: + +"No, indeed! The praetors flogged us in public in the Forum and without +a trial--flogged Roman citizens! They threw us publicly into prison, +and now they are going to get rid of us secretly. Let the praetors come +here themselves and take us out!" + +Surely it was the boldest message ever sent to the powerful praetors. +But Paul knew what he was doing, and when the Roman praetors heard the +message they knew that he was right. They would be ruined if it were +reported at Rome that they had publicly flogged Roman citizens without +trial. + +Their prisoner, Paul, was now their judge. They climbed down from +their marble seats and walked on foot to the prison to plead with Paul +and Silas to leave the prison and not to tell against them what had +happened. + +"Will you go away from the city?" they asked. "We are afraid of other +riots." + +So Paul and Silas consented. But they went to the house where Lydia +lived--the home in which they had been staying in Philippi. + +Paul cheered up the other Christian folk--Lydia and Luke and +Timothy--and told them how the jailor and his wife and family had all +become Christians. + +"Keep the work of spreading the message here in Philippi going +strongly," said Paul to Luke and Timothy. "Be cheerfully prepared for +trouble." And then he and Silas, instead of going back to their own +land, went out together in the morning light of the early winter of +A.D. 50, away along the Western road over the hills to face perils +in other cities in order to carry the Good News to the people of the +West. + + +_The Trail of the Hero-Scout._ + +So Paul the dauntless pioneer set his brave face westwards, following +the long trail across the Roman Empire--the hero-scout of Christ. +Nothing could stop him--not scourgings nor stonings, prison nor +robbers, blizzards nor sand-storms. He went on and on till at last, as +a prisoner in Rome, he laid his head on the block of the executioner +and was slain. These are the brave words that we hear from him as he +came near to the end: + + +-----------------------------+ + | I HAVE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT; | + | I HAVE RUN MY COURSE; | + | I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH. | + +-----------------------------+ + +Long years afterward, men who were Christians in Rome carried the +story of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ across Europe to some savages in +the North Sea Islands--called Britons. Paul handed the torch from +the Near East to the people in Rome. They passed the torch on to the +people of Britain--and from Britain many years later men sailed to +build up the new great nation in America. So the torch has run from +East to West, from that day to this, and from those people of long ago +to us. But we owe this most of all to Paul, the first missionary, +who gave his life to bring the Good News from the lands of Syria and +Judaea, where our Lord Jesus Christ lived and died and rose again. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 2: The dates are, of course, conjectural; but those given +are accepted by high authorities. Paul was about forty-four at the +time of this adventure.] + +[Footnote 3: The plateau on which Lystra, Derbe, Iconium, and +Antioch-in-Pisidia stood is from 3000 to 4000 feet above sea-level.] + +[Footnote 4: The aqueduct was standing there in 1914, when the author +was at Antioch-in-Pisidia (now called Yalowatch).] + +[Footnote 5: A Bible with maps attached will give the route from +Antioch in Syria, round the Gulf of Alexandretta, past Tarsus, up the +Cilician Gates to Derbe, Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch-in-Pisidia.] + +[Footnote 6: Compare Acts ix. I-8, xxvi. 12-20.] + +[Footnote 7: St. Paul's motive and message are developed more fully in +the Author's _Paul the Dauntless_.] + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE MEN OF THE SHINGLE BEACH + +_Wilfrid of Sussex_ + +(Date, born A.D. 634. Incidents A.D. 666 and 681[8]) + + +Twelve hundred and fifty years ago a man named Wilfrid sailed along +the south coast of a great island in the North Seas. With him in the +ship were a hundred and twenty companions. + +The voyage had started well, but now the captain looked anxious as he +peered out under his curved hand, looking first south and then north. +There was danger in both directions. + +The breeze from the south stiffened to a gale. The mast creaked and +strained as the gathering storm tore at the mainsail. The ship reeled +and pitched as the spiteful waves smote her high bow and swept hissing +and gurgling along the deck. She began to jib like a horse and refused +to obey her rudder. Wind and current were carrying her out of her +course. + +In spite of all the captain's sea-craft the ship was being driven +nearer to the dreaded, low, shingle beach of the island that stretched +along the northern edge of the sea. The captain did not fear the +coast itself, for it had no rocks. But the lines deepened on his +weather-scarred face as he saw, gathering on the shelving beach, the +wild, yellow-haired men of the island. + +The ship was being carried nearer and nearer to the coast. All on +board could now see the Men of the Shingle Beach waving their spears +and axes. + +The current and the wind swung the ship still closer to the shore, and +now--even above the whistle of the gale in the cordage--the crew heard +the wild whoop of the wreckers. These men on the beach were the sons +of pirates. But they were now cowards compared with their fathers. For +they no longer lived by the wild sea-rover's fight that had made +their fathers' blood leap with the joy of the battle. They lived by +a crueller craft. Waiting till some such vessel as this was swept +ashore, they would swoop down on it, harry and slay the men, carry the +women and children off for slaves, break up the ship and take the wood +and stores for fire and food. They were beach-combers. + +An extra swing of the tide, a great wave--and with a thud the ship was +aground, stuck fast on the yielding sands. With a wild yell, and with +their tawny manes streaming in the wind, the wreckers rushed down the +beach brandishing their spears. + +Wilfrid, striding to the side of the ship, raised his hand to show +that he wished to speak to the chief. But the island men rushed on +like an avalanche and started to storm the ship. Snatching up arms, +poles, rope-ends--whatever they could find--the men on board beat down +upon the heads of the savages as they climbed up the ship's slippery +side. One man after another sank wounded on the deck. The fight grew +more obstinate, but at last the men of the beach drew back up the +sands, baffled. + +The Men of the Shingle Beach might have given up the battle had not +a fierce priest of their god of war leapt on to a mound of sand, and, +lifting his naked arms to the skies, called on the god to destroy the +men in the ship. + +The savages were seized with a new frenzy and swept down the beach +again. Wilfrid had gathered his closest friends round him and was +quietly kneeling on the deck praying to his God for deliverance from +the enemy. The fight became desperate. Again the savages were driven +back up the beach. + +Once more they rallied and came swooping down on the ship. But a +pebble from the sling of a man on the ship struck the savage priest +on the forehead; he tottered and fell on the sand. This infuriated +the savages, yet it took the heart out of these men who had trusted in +their god of war. + +Meanwhile the tide had been creeping up; it swung in still further and +lifted the ship from the sand; the wind veered, the sails strained. +Slowly, but with gathering speed, the ship stood out to sea followed +by howls of rage from the men on the beach. + + * * * * * + +Some years passed by, yet Wilfrid in all his travels had never +forgotten the Men of the Beach. And, strangely enough, he wanted to go +back to them. + +At last the time came when he could do so. This time he did not visit +them by sea. After he had preached among the people in a distant +part of the same great island, Wilfrid with four faithful +companions--Eappa, Padda, Burghelm and Oiddi--walked down to the south +coast of the island. + +As he came to the tribe he found many of them gathered on the beach +as before. But the fierceness was gone. They tottered with weakness as +they walked. The very bones seemed ready to come through their skin. +They were starving with hunger and thirst from a long drought, when +no grain or food of any kind would grow. And now they were gathered on +the shore, and a long row of them linked hand in hand would rush down +the very beach upon which they had attacked Wilfrid, and would cast +themselves into the sea to get out of the awful agonies of their +hunger. + +"Are there not fish in the sea for food?" asked Wilfrid. + +"Yes, but we cannot catch them," they answered. + +Wilfrid showed the wondering Men of the Shingle Beach how to make +large nets and then launched out in the little boats that they owned, +and let the nets down. For hour after hour Wilfrid and his companions +fished, while the savages watched them from the beach with hungry eyes +as the silver-shining fish were drawn gleaming and struggling into the +boats. + +At last, as evening drew on, the nets were drawn in for the last time, +and Wilfrid came back to the beach with hundreds of fish in the boats. +With eager joy the Men of the Beach lit fires and cooked the fish. +Their hunger was stayed; the rain for which Wilfrid prayed came. They +were happy once more. + +Then Wilfrid gathered them all around him on the beach and said words +like these: + +"You men tried to kill me and my friends on this beach years ago, +trusting in your god of war. You _failed_. There is no god of war. +There is but one God, a God not of war, but of Love, Who sent His only +Son to tell about His love. That Son, Jesus Christ, Who fed the hungry +multitudes by the side of the sea with fish, sent me to you to show +love to you, feeding you with fish from the sea, and feeding you with +His love, which is the Bread of Life." + +The wondering savages, spear in hand, shook their matted hair and +could not take it in at once. Yet they and their boys and girls had +already learned to trust Wilfrid, and soon began to love the God of +Whom he spoke. + + * * * * * + +Now, those savages were the great, great, great grandfathers and +mothers of the English-speaking peoples of the world. The North Sea +Island was Britain; the beach was at Selsey near Chichester on the +South Coast. And the very fact that you and I are alive to-day, the +shelter of our homes, the fact that we can enjoy the wind on the heath +in camp, our books and sport and school, all these things come to us +through men like Wilfrid and St. Patrick, St. Columba and St. Ninian, +St. Augustine and others who in the days of long ago came to lift our +fathers from the wretched, quarrelsome life, and from the starving +helplessness of the Men of the Shingle Beach. + +The people of the North Sea Islands and of America and the rest of +the Christian world have these good things in their life because +there came to save our forefathers heroic missionaries like Wilfrid, +Columba, and Augustine. There are to-day men of the South Sea Islands, +who are even more helpless than our Saxon grandfathers. + +To get without giving is mean. To take the torch and not to pass it on +is to fail to play the game. We must hand on to the others the light +that has come to us. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 8: The chief authority for the story of Wilfrid is Bede.] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE KNIGHT OF A NEW CRUSADE + +_Raymund Lull_ + +(Dates, b. 1234, d. 1315) + + +I + +A little old man, barefooted and bareheaded, and riding upon an ass, +went through the cities and towns and villages of Europe, in the +eleventh century, carrying--not a lance, but a crucifix. When he came +near a town the word ran like a forest fire, "It is Peter the Hermit." + +All the people rushed out. Their hearts burned as they heard him tell +how the tomb of Jesus Christ was in the hand of the Moslem Turk, of +how Christians going to worship at His Tomb in Jerusalem were thrown +into prison and scourged and slain. Knights sold lands and houses to +buy horses and lances. Peasants threw down the axe and the spade for +the pike and bow and arrows. Led by knights, on whose armour a red +Cross was emblazoned, the people poured out in their millions for the +first Crusade. It is said that in the spring of 1096 an "expeditionary +force" of six million people was heading toward Palestine. + +The Crusades were caused partly by the cruelty of the followers of +Mohammed, the Moslem Turks, who believed that they could earn entrance +into Paradise by slaying infidel Christians. The Moslems every day and +five times a day turn their faces to Mecca in Arabia, saying "There is +no God but God; Mohammed is the Prophet of God." Allah (they believe) +is wise and merciful to His own, but not holy, nor our Father, +nor loving and forgiving, nor desiring pure lives. On earth and in +Paradise women have no place save to serve men. + +The first Crusade ended in the capture of Jerusalem (July 15, 1099), +and Godfrey de Bouillon became King of Jerusalem. But Godfrey refused +to put a crown upon his head. For, he said, "I will not wear a crown +of gold in the city where Our Lord Jesus Christ wore a crown of +thorns." + + The fortunes of Christian and Moslem ebbed and flowed for nearly + two hundred years, during which time there were seven Crusades + ending at the fall of Acre into the hands of the Turks in 1291. + + The way of the sword had failed, though indeed the Crusades had + probably been the means of preventing all Europe from being + overrun by the Moslems. At the time when the last Crusade had + begun a man was planning a new kind of Crusade, different in + method but calling for just as much bravery as the old kind. + We are going to hear his story now. + + +II + +_The Young Knight's Vision_ + +In the far-off days of the last of the Crusades, a knight of Majorca, +in the Mediterranean Sea, stood on the shore of his island home gazing +over the water. Raymund Lull from the beach of Palma Bay, where he +had played as a boy, now looked out southward, where boats with their +tall, rakish, brown sails ran in from the Great Sea. + +The knight was dreaming of Africa which lay away to the south of his +island. He had heard many strange stories from the sailors about the +life in the harbours of that mysterious African seaboard; but he had +never once in his thirty-six years set eyes upon one of its ports. + +It was the year when Prince Edward of England, out on the mad, futile +adventure of the last Crusade, was felled by the poisoned dagger of an +assassin in Nazareth, and when Eleanor (we are told) drew the poison +from the wound with her own lips. Yet Raymund Lull, who was a knight +so skilled that he could flash his sword and set his lance in rest +with any of his peers, had not joined that Crusade. His brave father +carried the scars of a dozen battles against the Moors. Yet, when the +last Crusade swept down the Mediterranean, Lull stood aside; for he +was himself planning a new Crusade of a kind unlike any that had gone +before. + +He dreamed of a Crusade not to the Holy Land but to Africa, where the +Crescent of Mohammed ruled and where the Cross of Christ was never +seen save when an arrogant Moslem drew a cross in the sand of the +desert to spit upon it. It was the desire of Raymund Lull's life to +sail out into those perilous ports and to face the fierce Saracens who +thronged the cities. He longed for this as other knights panted to go +out to the Holy Land as Crusaders. He was rich enough to sail at any +time, for he was his own master. Why, then, did he not take one of the +swift craft that rocked in the bay, and sail? + +It was because he had not yet forged a sharp enough weapon for his new +Crusade. His deep resolve was that at all costs he would "Be Prepared" +for every counter-stroke of the Saracen whose tongue was as swift and +sharp as his scimitar. + +What powers do we think a man should have in order to convince +fanatical Moslems, who knew their own sacred book--the Koran--of the +truth of Christianity? Control of his own temper, courage, patience, +knowledge of the Moslem religion and of the Bible, suggest themselves. + + +III + +_The Preparation of Temper_ + +So Lull turned his back on the beach and on Africa, and plunged under +the heavy shadows of the arched gateway through the city wall up the +narrow streets of Palma. A servant opened the heavy, studded door of +his father's mansion--the house where Lull himself was born. + +He hastened in and, calling to his Saracen slave, strode to his own +room. The dark-faced Moor obediently came, bowed before his young +master, and laid out on the table manuscripts that were covered with +mysterious writing such as few people in Europe could read. + +Lull was learning Arabic from this sullen Saracen slave. He was +studying the Koran--the Bible of the Mohammedans--so that he might be +able to strive with the Saracens on their own ground. For Lull knew +that he must be master of all the knowledge of the Moslem if he was +to win his battles; just as a knight in the fighting Crusades must +be swift and sure with his sword. And this is how Lull spoke of the +Crusade on which he was to set out. + +"I see many knights," he said, "going to the Holy Land beyond the seas +and thinking that they can acquire it by force of arms; but in the end +all are destroyed before they attain that which they think to have. +Whence it seems to me that the conquest of the Holy Land ought not +to be attempted except in the way in which Christ and His Apostles +achieved it, namely, by love and prayers, and the pouring out of tears +and blood." + +Suddenly, as he and the Saracen slave argued together, the Moor +blurted out passionately a horrible blasphemy against the name of +Jesus. Lull's blood was up. He leapt to his feet, leaned forward, and +caught the Moor a swinging blow on the face with his hand. In a fury +the Saracen snatched a dagger from the folds of his robe and, leaping +at Lull, drove it into his side. Raymund fell with a cry. Friends +rushed in. The Saracen was seized and hurried away to a prison-cell, +where he slew himself. + +Lull, as he lay day after day waiting for his wound to heal and +remembering his wild blow at the Saracen, realised that, although he +had learned Arabic, he had not yet learned the first lesson of his own +new way of Crusading--to be master of himself. + + +IV + +_The Preparation of Courage_ + +So Raymund Lull (at home and in Rome and Paris) set himself afresh to +his task of preparing. At last he felt that he was ready. From Paris +he rode south-east through forest and across plain, over mountain and +pass, till the gorgeous palaces and the thousand masts of Genoa came +in sight. + +He went down to the harbour and found a ship that was sailing across +the Mediterranean to Africa. He booked his passage and sent his goods +with all his precious manuscripts aboard. The day for sailing came. +His friends came to cheer him. But Lull sat in his room trembling. + +As he covered his eyes with his hands in shame, he saw the fiery, +persecuting Saracens of Tunis, whom he was sailing to meet. He knew +they were glowing with pride because of their triumphs over the +Crusaders in Palestine. He knew they were blazing with anger because +their brother Moors had been slaughtered and tortured in Spain. He saw +ahead of him the rack, the thumb-screw, and the boot; the long years +in a slimy dungeon--at the best the executioner's scimitar. He simply +dared not go. + +The books were brought ashore again. The ship sailed without Lull. + +"The ship has gone," said a friend to Lull. He quivered under a +torture of shame greater than the agony of the rack. He was wrung with +bitter shame that he who had for all these years prepared for this +Crusade should now have shown the white feather. He was, indeed, a +craven knight of Christ. + +His agony of spirit threw him into a high fever that kept him in his +bed. + +Soon after he heard that another ship was sailing for Africa. + +In spite of the protestations of his friends Lull insisted that they +should carry him to the ship. They did so; but as the hour of sailing +drew on his friends were sure that he was so weak that he would die +on the sea before he could reach Africa. So--this time in spite of all +his pleading--they carried him ashore again. But he could not rest and +his agony of mind made his fever worse. + +Soon, however, a third ship was making ready to sail. This time Lull +was carried on board and refused to return. + +The ship cast off and threaded its way through the shipping of the +harbour out into the open sea. + +"From this moment," said Lull, "I was a new man. All fever left me +almost before we were out of sight of land." + + +V + +_The First Battle_ + +Passing Corsica and Sardinia, the ship slipped southward till at last +she made the yellow coast of Africa, broken by the glorious Gulf +of Tunis. She dropped sail as she ran alongside the busy wharves of +Goletta. Lull was soon gliding in a boat through the short ancient +canal to Tunis, the mighty city which was head of all the Western +Mohammedan world. + +He landed and found the place beside the great mosque where the +grey-bearded scholars bowed over their Korans and spoke to one another +about the law of Mohammed. + +They looked at him with amazement as he boldly came up to them and +said, "I have come to talk with you about Christ and His Way of Life, +and Mohammed and his teaching. If you can prove to me that Mohammed is +indeed _the_ Prophet, I will myself become a follower of him." + +The Moslems, sure of their case, called together their wisest men and +together they declaimed to Lull what he already knew very well--the +watchword that rang out from minaret to minaret across the roofs of +the vast city as the first flush of dawn came up from the East across +the Gulf. "There is no God but God; Mohammed is the Prophet of God." + +"Yes," he replied, "the Allah of Mohammed is one and is great, but He +does not love as does the Father of Jesus Christ. He is wise, but He +does not do good to men like our God who so loved the world that He +gave His Son Jesus Christ." + +To and fro the argument swung till, after many days, to their dismay +and amazement the Moslems saw some of their number waver and at last +actually beginning to go over to the side of Lull. To forsake the +Faith of Mohammed is--by their own law--to be worthy of death. A +Moslem leader hurried to the Sultan of Tunis. + +"See," he said, "this learned teacher, Lull, is declaring the errors +of the Faith. He is dangerous. Let us take him and put him to death." + +The Sultan gave the word of command. A body of soldiers went out, +seized Lull, dragged him through the streets, and threw him into a +dark dungeon to wait the death sentence. + +But another Moslem who had been deeply touched by Lull's teaching +craved audience with the Sultan. + +"See," he said, "this learned man Lull--if he were a Moslem--would +be held in high honour, being so brave and fearless in defence of his +Faith. Do not slay him. Banish him from Tunis." + +So when Lull in his dungeon saw the door flung open and waited to be +taken to his death he found to his surprise that he was led from the +dungeon through the streets of Tunis, taken along the canal, thrust +into the hold of a ship, and told that he must go in that ship to +Genoa and never return. But the man who had before been afraid to sail +from Genoa to Tunis, now escaped unseen from the ship that would have +taken him back to safety in order to risk his life once more. He said +to himself the motto he had written: + + +--------------------------------------+ + | "HE WHO LOVES NOT, LIVES NOT! HE WHO | + | LIVES BY THE LIFE CANNOT DIE." | + +--------------------------------------+ + +He was not afraid now even of martyrdom. He hid among the wharves +and gathered his converts about him to teach them more and more about +Christ. + + +VI + +_The Last Fight_ + +At last, however, seeing that he could do little in hiding, Lull took +ship to Naples. After many adventures during a number of years, in a +score of cities and on the seas, the now white-haired Lull sailed into +the curved bay of Bugia farther westward along the African coast. In +the bay behind the frowning walls the city with its glittering mosques +climbed the hill. Behind rose two glorious mountains crowned with the +dark green of the cedar. And, far off, like giant Moors wearing white +turbans, rose the distant mountain peaks crowned with snow. + +Lull passed quietly through the arch of the city gateway which he knew +so well, for among other adventures he had once been imprisoned in +this very city. He climbed the steep street and found a friend who hid +him away. There for a year Lull taught in secret till he felt that the +time had come for him to go out boldly and dare death itself. + +One day the people in the market-place of Bugia heard a voice ring out +that seemed to some of them strangely familiar. They hurried toward +the sound. There stood the old hero with arm uplifted declaring, in +the full blaze of the North African day, the Love of God shown in +Jesus Christ His Son. + +The Saracens murmured. They could not answer his arguments. They cried +to him to stop, but his voice rose ever fuller and bolder. They rushed +on him, dragged him by the cloak out of the market-place, down the +streets, under the archway to a place beyond the city walls. There +they threw back their sleeves, took up great jagged stones and hurled +these grim messengers of hate at the Apostle of Love, till he sank +senseless to the ground.[9] + +It was word for word over again the story of Stephen; the speech, the +wild cries of the mob, the rush to the place beyond the city wall, the +stoning.[10] + +Did Lull accomplish anything? He was dead; but he had conquered. He +had conquered his old self. For the Lull who had, in a fit of temper, +smitten his Saracen slave now smiled on the men who stoned him; and +the Lull who had showed the white feather of fear at Genoa, now defied +death in the market-place of Bugia. And in that love and heroism, in +face of hate and death, he had shown men the only way to conquer +the scimitar of Mohammed, "the way in which Christ and His Apostles +achieved it, namely, by love and prayers, and the pouring out of tears +and blood." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 9: June 30. 1315.] + +[Footnote 10: Acts vi. 8-vii. 60.] + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +FRANCIS COEUR-DE-LION + +(_St. Francis of Assisi_) A.D. 1181-1226 (Date of Incident, 1219) + + +I + +The dark blue sky of an Italian night was studded with sparkling stars +that seemed to be twinkling with laughter at the pranks of a lively +group of gay young fellows as they came out from a house half-way up +the steep street of the little city of Assisi. + +As they strayed together down the street they sang the love-songs of +their country and then a rich, strong voice rang out singing a song in +French. + +"That is Francis Bernardone," one neighbour would say to another, +nodding his head, for Francis could sing, not only in his native +Italian, but also in French. + +"He lives like a prince; yet he is but the son of a cloth +merchant,--rich though the merchant be." + +So the neighbours, we are told, were always grumbling about Francis, +the wild spendthrift. For young Francis dressed in silk and always in +the latest fashion; he threw his pocket-money about with a free hand. +He loved beautiful things. He was very sensitive. He would ride a long +way round to avoid seeing the dreadful face of a poor leper, and would +hold his nose in his cloak as he passed the place where the lepers +lived. + +He was handsome in face, gallant in bearing, idle and careless; a +jolly companion, with beautiful courtly manners. His dark chestnut +hair curled over his smooth, rather small forehead. His black +twinkling eyes looked out under level brows; his nose was straight and +finely shaped. + +When he laughed he showed even, white, closely set teeth between +thin and sensitive lips. He wore a short, black beard. His arms were +shortish; his fingers long and sensitive. He was lightly built; his +skin was delicate. + +He was witty, and his voice when he spoke was powerful and sonorous, +yet sweet-toned and very clear. + +For him to be the son of a merchant seemed to the gossips of Assisi +all wrong--as though a grey goose had hatched out a gorgeous peacock. + +The song of the revellers passed down the street and died away. The +little city of Assisi slept in quietness on the slopes of the Apennine +Mountains under the dark clear sky. + +A few nights later, however, no song of any revellers was heard. +Francis Bernardone was very ill with a fever. For week after week his +mother nursed him; and each night hardly believed that her son would +live to see the light of the next morning. When at last the fever left +him, he was so feeble that for weeks he could not rise from his bed. +Gradually, however, he got better: as he did so the thing that he +desired most of all in the world was to see the lovely country around +Assisi;--the mountains, the Umbrian Plain beneath, the blue skies, the +dainty flowers. + +At last one day, with aching limbs and in great feebleness, he crept +out of doors. There were the great Apennine Mountains on the side of +which his city of Assisi was built. There were the grand rocky peaks +pointing to the intense blue sky. There was the steep street with the +houses built of stone of a strange, delicate pink colour, as though +the light of dawn were always on them. There were the dark green olive +trees, and the lovely tendrils of the vines. The gay Italian flowers +were blooming. + +Stretching away in the distance was one of the most beautiful +landscapes of the world; the broad Umbrian Plain with its browns and +greens melting in the distance into a bluish haze that softened the +lines of the distant hills. + +How he had looked forward to seeing it all, to being in the sunshine, +to feeling the breeze on his hot brow! But what--he wondered--had +happened to him? He looked at it all, but he felt no joy. It all +seemed dead and empty. He turned his back on it and crawled indoors +again, sad and sick at heart. He was sure that he would never feel +again "the wild joys of living." + +As Francis went back to his bed he began to think what he should do +with the rest of his life. He made up his mind not to waste it any +longer: but he did not see clearly what he should do with it. + +A short time after Francis begged a young nobleman of Assisi, who +was just starting to fight in a war, if he might go with him. The +nobleman--Walter of Brienne, agreed: so Francis bought splendid +trappings for his horse, and a shield, sword and spear. His armour and +his horse's harness were more splendid than even those of Walter. So +they went clattering together out of Assisi. + +But he had not gone thirty miles before he was smitten again by fever. +After sunset one evening he lay dreamily on his bed when he seemed to +hear a voice. + +"Francis," it asked, "what could benefit thee most, the master or the +servant, the rich man or the poor?" + +"The master and the rich man," answered Francis in surprise. + +"Why then," went on the voice, "dost thou leave God, Who is the Master +and rich, for man, who is the servant and poor?" + +"Then, Lord, what will Thou that I do?" asked Francis. + +"Return to thy native town, and it shall be shown thee there what thou +shall do," said the voice. + +He obediently rose and went back to Assisi. He tried to join again in +the old revels, but the joy was gone. He went quietly away to a cave +on the mountain side and there he lay--as young Mahomet had done, you +remember, five centuries before, to wonder what he was to do. + +Then a vision came to him. All at once like a flash his mind was +clear, and his soul was full of joy. He saw the love of Jesus +Christ--Who had lived and suffered and died for love of him and of +all men;--that love was to rule his own life! He had found his +Captain--the Master of his life, the Lord of his service,--Christ. + +Yet even now he hardly knew what to do. He went home and told his +friends as well as he could of the change in his heart. + +Some smiled rather pityingly and went away saying to one another: +"Poor fellow; a little mad, you can see; very sad for his parents!" + +Others simply laughed and mocked. + +One day, very lonely and sad at heart, he clambered up the mountain +side to an old church just falling into ruin near which, in a cavern, +lived a priest. He went into the ruin and fell on his knees. + +"Francis," a voice in his soul seemed to say, "dost thou see my house +going to ruin. Buckle to and repair it." + +He dashed home, saddled his horse, loaded it with rich garments and +rode off to another town to sell the goods. He sold the horse too; +trudged back up the hill and gave the fat purse to the priest. + +"No," said the priest, "I dare not take it unless your father says I +may." + +But his father, who had got rumour of what was going on, came with a +band of friends to drag Francis home. Francis fled through the woods +to a secret cave, where he lay hidden till at last he made up his mind +to face all. He came out and walked straight towards home. Soon the +townsmen of Assisi caught sight of him. + +"A madman," they yelled, throwing stones and sticks at him. All the +boys of Assisi came out and hooted and threw pebbles. + +His father heard the riot and rushed out to join in the fun. Imagine +his horror when he found that it was his own son. He yelled with +rage, dashed at him and, clutching him by the robe, dragged him along, +beating and cursing him. When he got him home he locked him up. But +some days later Francis' mother let him out, when his father was +absent; and Francis climbed the hill to the Church. + +The bishop called in Francis and his father to his court to settle the +quarrel. + +"You must give back to your father all that you have," said he. + +"I will," replied Francis. + +He took off all his rich garments; and, clad only in a hair-vest, he +put the clothes and the purse of money at his father's feet. + +"Now," he cried, "I have but one father. Henceforth I can say in all +truth 'Our Father Who art in heaven.'" + +A peasant's cloak was given to Francis. He went thus, without home +or any money, a wanderer. He went to a monastery and slaved in the +kitchen. A friend gave him a tunic, some shoes, and a stick. He went +out wandering in Italy again. He loved everybody; he owned nothing; he +wanted everyone to know the love of Jesus as he knew and enjoyed that +love. + +There came to Francis many adventures. He was full of joy; he sang +even to the birds in the woods. Many men joined him as his disciples +in the way of obedience, of poverty, and of love. Men in Italy, in +Spain, in Germany and in Britain caught fire from the flame of his +simple love and careless courage. Never had Europe seen so clear a +vision of the love of Jesus. His followers were called the Lesser +Brothers (Friars Minor). + +All who can should read the story of Francis' life: as for us we are +here going simply to listen to what happened to him on a strange and +perilous adventure. + + +II + +About this time people all over Europe were agog with excitement about +the Crusades. Four Crusades had come and gone. Richard Coeur-de-Lion +was dead. But the passion for fighting against the Saracen was still +in the hearts of men. + +"The tomb of our Lord in Jerusalem is in the hands of the Saracen," +the cry went up over all Europe. "Followers of Jesus Christ are slain +by the scimitars of Islam. Let us go and wrest the Holy City from the +hands of the Saracen." + +There was also the danger to Europe itself. The Mohammedans ruled in +Spain as well as in North Africa, in Egypt and in the Holy Land. + +So rich men sold their lands to buy horses and armour and to fit +themselves and their foot soldiers for the fray. Poor men came armed +with pike and helmet and leather jerkin. The knights wore a blood-red +cross on their white tunics. In thousands upon thousands, with John +of Brienne as their Commander-in-Chief (the brother of that Walter of +Brienne with whom, you remember, Francis had started for the wars as +a knight), they sailed the Mediterranean to fight for the Cross in +Egypt. + +They attacked Egypt because the Sultan there ruled over Jerusalem and +they hoped by defeating him to free Jerusalem at the same time. + +As Francis saw the knights going off to the Crusades in shining armour +with the trappings of their horses all a-glitter and a-jingle, and as +he thought of the lands where the people worshipped--not the God and +Father of our Lord Jesus Christ--but the "Sultan in the Sky," the +Allah of Mahomet, his spirit caught fire within him. + +Francis had been a soldier and a knight only a few years before. He +could not but feel the stir of the Holy War in his veins,--the tingle +of the desire to be in it. He heard the stories of the daring of the +Crusaders; he heard of a great victory over the Saracens. + +Francis, indeed, wanted Jesus Christ to conquer men more than he +wanted anything on earth; but he knew that men are only conquered by +Jesus Christ if their hearts are changed by Him. + +"Even if the Saracens are put to the sword and overwhelmed, still they +are not saved," he said to himself. + +As he thought these things he felt sure that he heard them calling to +him (as the Man from Macedonia had called to St. Paul)--"Come over and +help us." St. Paul had brought the story of Jesus Christ to Europe; +and had suffered prison and scourging and at last death by the +executioner's sword in doing it; must not Francis be ready to take the +same message back again from Europe to the Near East and to suffer for +it? + +"I will go," he said, "but to save the Saracens, not to slay them." + +He was not going out to fight, yet he had in his heart a plan that +needed him to be braver and more full of resource than any warrior +in the armies of the Crusades. He was as much a Lion-hearted hero +as Richard Coeur-de-Lion himself, and was far wiser and indeed more +powerful. + +So he took a close friend, Brother Illuminato, with him and they +sailed away together over the seas. They sailed from Italy with Walter +of Brienne, with one of the Crusading contingents in many ships. +Southeast they voyaged over the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. + +Francis talked with the Crusaders on board; and much that they said +and did made him very sad. They squabbled with one another. +The knights were arrogant and sneered at the foot soldiers; the +men-at-arms did not trust the knights. They had the Cross on their +armour; but few of them had in their hearts the spirit of Jesus who +was nailed to the Cross. + +At last the long, yellow coast-line of Egypt was sighted. Behind it +lay the minarets and white roofs of a city. They were come to the +eastern mouth of the Nile, on which stood the proud city of Damietta. +The hot rays of the sun smote down upon the army of the Crusaders as +they landed. The sky and the sea were of an intense blue; the sand and +the sun glared at one another. + +Francis would just be able to hear at dawn the cry of the muezzin from +the minarets of Damietta, "Come to prayer: there is no God but Allah +and Mahomet is his prophet. Come to prayer. Prayer is better than +sleep." + +John of Brienne began to muster his men in battle array to attack the +Sultan of Egypt, Malek-Kamel, a name which means "the Perfect Prince." + +Francis, however, was quite certain that the attempt would be a +ghastly failure. He hardly knew what to do. So he talked it over with +his friend, Brother Illuminato. + +"I know they will be defeated in this attempt," he said. "But if I +tell them so they will treat me as a madman. On the other hand, if +I do not tell them, then my conscience will condemn me. What do you +think I ought to do?" + +"My brother," said Illuminate, "what does the judgment of the world +matter to you? If they say you are mad it will not be the first time!" + +Francis, therefore, went to the Crusaders and warned them. They +laughed scornfully. The order for advance was given. The Crusaders +charged into battle. Francis was in anguish--tears filled his eyes. +The Saracens came out and fell upon the Christian soldiers and +slaughtered them. Over 6000 of them either fell under the scimitar or +were taken prisoner. The Crusaders were defeated. + +Francis' mind was now fully made up. He went to a Cardinal, who +represented the Pope, with the Crusading Army to ask his leave to go +and preach to the Sultan of Egypt. + +"No," said the Cardinal, "I cannot give you leave to go. I know full +well that you would never escape to come back alive. The Sultan of +Egypt has offered a reward of gold to any man who will bring to him +the head of a Christian. That will be your fate." + +"Do suffer us to go, we do not fear death," pleaded Francis and +Illuminato, again and again. + +"I do not know what is in your minds in this," said the Cardinal, "but +beware--if you go--that your thoughts are always to God." + +"We only wish to go for great good, if we can work it," replied +Francis. + +"Then if you wish it so much," the Cardinal at last agreed, "you may +go." + +So Francis and Illuminato girded their loins and tightened their +sandals and set away from the Crusading Army towards the very camp of +the enemy. + +As he walked Francis sang with his full, loud, clear voice. These were +the words that he sang: + + +Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will +fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they +comfort me. + + +As they walked along over the sandy waste they saw two small sheep +nibbling the sparse grass growing near the Nile. + +"Be of good cheer," said Francis to Illuminato, smiling, "it is the +fulfilling of the Gospel words 'Behold I send you as sheep in the +midst of wolves.'" + +Then there appeared some Saracen soldiers. They were, at first, for +letting the two unarmed men go by; but, on questioning Francis, they +grew angrier and angrier. + +"Are you deserters from the Christian camp?" they asked. + +"No," replied Francis. + +"Are you envoys from the commander come to plead for peace?" + +"No," was the answer again. + +"Will you give up the infidel religion and become a true believer and +say 'There is no God but Allah, and Mahomet is his prophet?'" + +"No, no," cried Francis, "we are come to preach the Good News of Jesus +Christ to the Sultan of Egypt." + +The eyes of the Saracen soldiers opened with amazement: they could +hardly believe their ears. Their faces flushed under their dark skins +with anger. + +"Chain them," they cried to one another. "Beat them--the infidels." + +Chains were brought and snapped upon the wrists and ankles of +Francis and Illuminato. Then they took rods and began to beat the two +men--just as Paul and Silas had been beaten eleven centuries earlier. + +As the rods whistled through the air and came slashing upon their +wounded backs Francis kept crying out one word--"Soldan--Soldan." That +is "Sultan--Sultan." + +He thus made them understand that he wished to be taken to their +Commander-in-Chief. So they decided to take these strange beings to +Malek-Kamel. + +As the Sultan sat in his pavilion Francis and Illuminato were led in. +They bowed and saluted him courteously and Malek-Kamel returned the +salute. + +"Have you come with a message from your Commander?" said the Sultan. + +"No," replied Francis. + +"You wish then to become Saracens--worshippers of Allah in the name of +Mahomet?" + +"Nay, nay," answered Francis, "Saracens we will never be. We have come +with a message from God; it is a message that will save your life. If +you die under the law of Mahomet you are lost. We have come to tell +you so: if you listen to us we will show all this to you." + +The Sultan seems to have been amused and interested rather than angry. + +"I have bishops and archbishops of my own," he said, "they can tell me +all that I wish to know." + +"Of this we are glad," replied Francis, "send and fetch them, if you +will." + +The Sultan agreed; he sent for eight of his Moslem great men. When +they came in he said to them: "See these men, they have come to teach +us a new faith. Shall we listen to them?" + +"Sire," they answered him at once, "thou knowest the law: thou art +bound to uphold it and carry it out. By Mahomet who gave us the law +to slay infidels, we command thee that their heads be cut off. We will +not listen to a word that they say. Off with their heads!" + +The great men, having given their judgment, solemnly left the presence +of the Sultan. The Sultan turned to Francis and Illuminato. + +"Masters," he said to them, "they have commanded me by Mahomet to have +your heads cut off. But I will go against the law, for you have risked +your lives to save my immortal soul. Now leave me for the time." + +The two Christian missionaries were led away; but in a day or two +Malek-Kamel called them to his presence again. + +"If you will stay in my dominions," he said, "I will give you land and +other possessions." + +"Yes," said Francis, "I will stay--on one condition--that you and your +people turn to the worship of the true God. See," he went on, "let +us put it to the test. Your priests here," and he pointed to some who +were standing about, "they will not let me talk with them; will they +do something. Have a great fire lighted. I will walk into the fire +with them: the result will shew you whose faith is the true one." + +As Francis suggested this idea the faces of the Moslem leaders were +transfigured with horror. They turned and quietly walked away. + +"I do not think," said the Sultan with a sarcastic smile at their +retreating backs, "that any of my priests are ready to face the flames +to defend their faith." + +"Well, I will go _alone_ into the fire," said Francis. "If I am +burned--it is because of my sins--if I am protected by God then you +will own Him as your God." + +"No," replied the Sultan, "I will not listen to the idea of such a +trial of your life for my soul." But he was astonished beyond measure +at the amazing faith of Francis. So Francis withdrew from the presence +of the Sultan, who at once sent after him rich and costly presents. + +"You must take them back," said Francis to the messengers; "I will not +take them." + +"Take them to build your churches and support your priests," said the +Sultan through his messengers. + +But Francis would not take any gift from the Sultan. He left him and +went back with Illuminato from the Saracen host to the camp of the +Crusaders. As he was leaving the Sultan secretly spoke with Francis +and said: "Will you pray for me that I may be guided by an inspiration +from above that I may join myself to the religion that is most +approved by God?" + +The Sultan told off a band of his soldiers to go with the two men and +to protect them from any molesting till they reached the Crusaders' +Camp. There is a legend--though no one now can tell whether it is true +or not--that when the Sultan of Egypt lay dying he sent for a disciple +of Francis to be with him and pray for him. Whether this was so or +not, it is quite clear that Francis had left in the memory of the +Sultan such a vision of dauntless faith as he had never seen before or +was ever to see again. + +The Crusaders failed to win Egypt or the Holy Land; but to-day men are +going from America and Britain in the footsteps of Francis of Assisi +the Christian missionary, to carry to the people in Egypt, in the Holy +Land and in all the Near East, the message that Francis took of the +love of Jesus Christ. The stories of some of the deeds they have done +and are to-day doing, we shall read in later chapters in this book. + + + + +Book Two: THE ISLAND ADVENTURERS + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ADVENTUROUS SHIP + +_The Duff_ + +(Date of Incident, 1796) + + +A ship crept quietly down the River Thames on an ebb-tide. She was +slipping out from the river into the estuary when suddenly a challenge +rang out across the grey water. + +"What ship is that?" + +"_The Duff_," was the answer that came back from the little ship whose +captain had passed through a hundred hairsbreadth escapes in his life +but was now starting on the strangest adventure of them all. + +"Whither bound?" came the challenge again from the man-o'-war that had +hailed them. + +"Otaheite," came the answer, which would startle the Government +officer. For Tahiti[11] (as we now call it) was many thousands of +miles away in the heart of the South Pacific Ocean. Indeed it had only +been discovered by Captain Cook twenty-eight years earlier in 1768. +_The Duff_ was a small sailing-ship such as one of our American ocean +liners of to-day could put into her dining saloon. + +"What cargo?" The question came again from the officer on the +man-o'-war. + +"Missionaries and provisions," was Captain Wilson's answer. + +The man-o'-war's captain was puzzled. He did not know what strange +beings might be meant by missionaries. He was suspicious. Were they +pirates, perhaps, in disguise! + +We can understand how curious it would sound to him when we remember +that (although Wilfrid and Augustine and Columba had gone to Britain +as missionaries over a thousand years before _The Duff_ started down +the Thames) no cargo of missionaries had ever before sailed from those +North Sea Islands of Britain to the savages of other lands like the +South Sea Islands. + +There was a hurried order and a scurry on board the Government ship. +A boat was let down into the Thames, and half a dozen sailors tumbled +into her and rowed to _The Duff._ What did the officer find? + +He was met at the rail by a man who had been through scores of +adventures, Captain Wilson. The son of the captain of a Newcastle +collier, Wilson had grown up a dare-devil sailor boy. He enlisted as +a soldier in the American war, became captain of a vessel trading with +India, and was then captured and imprisoned by the French in India. He +escaped from prison by climbing a great wall, and dropping down forty +feet on the other side. He plunged into a river full of alligators, +and swam across, escaping the jaws of alligators only to be captured +on the other bank by Indians, chained and made to march barefoot +for 500 miles. Then he was thrust into Hyder Ali's loathsome prison, +starved and loaded with irons, and at last at the end of two years was +set free. + +This was the daring hero who had now undertaken to captain the little +_Duff_ across the oceans of the world to the South Seas. With +Captain Wilson, the man-o'-war officer found also six carpenters, two +shoemakers, two bricklayers, two sailors, two smiths, two weavers, a +surgeon, a hatter, a shopkeeper, a cotton factor, a cabinet-maker, a +draper, a harness maker, a tin worker, a butcher and four ministers. +But they were all of them missionaries. With them were six children. + +All up and down the English Channel French frigates sailed like hawks +waiting to pounce upon their prey; for England was at war with France +in those days. So for five weary weeks _The Duff_ anchored in the +roadstead of Spithead till, as one of a fleet of fifty-seven vessels, +she could sail down the channel and across the Bay of Biscay protected +by British men-o'-war. Safely clear of the French cruisers, _The Duff_ +held on alone till the cloud-capped mountain-heights of Madeira hove +in sight. + +Across the Atlantic she stood, for the intention was to sail round +South America into the Pacific. But on trying to round the Cape Horn +_The Duff_ met such violent gales that Captain Wilson turned her in +her tracks and headed back across the Atlantic for the Cape of Good +Hope. + +Week after week for thousands and thousands of miles she sailed. +She had travelled from Rio de Janiero over 10,000 miles and had only +sighted a single sail--a longer journey than any ship had ever sailed +without seeing land. + +"Shall we see the island to-day?" the boys on board would ask Captain +Wilson. Day after day he shook his head. But one night he said: + +"If the wind holds good to-night we shall see an island in the +morning, but not the island where we shall stop." + +"Land ho!" shouted a sailor from the masthead in the morning, and, +sure enough, they saw away on the horizon, like a cloud on the edge of +the sea, the island of Toobonai.[12] + +As they passed Toobonai the wind rose and howled through the rigging. +It tore at the sail of _The Duff,_ and the great Pacific waves rolled +swiftly by, rushing and hissing along the sides of the little ship and +tossing her on their foaming crests. But she weathered the storm, and, +as the wind dropped, and they looked ahead, they saw, cutting into the +sky-line, the mountain tops of Tahiti. + +It was Saturday night when the island came in sight. Early on the +Sunday morning by seven o'clock _The Duff_ swung round under a gentle +breeze into Matavai[13] Bay and dropped anchor. But before she could +even anchor the whole bay had become alive with Tahitians. They +thronged the beach, and, leaping into canoes, sent them skimming +across the bay to the ship. + +Captain Wilson, scanning the canoes swiftly and anxiously, saw with +relief that the men were not armed. But the missionaries were startled +when the savages climbed up the sides of the ship, and with wondering +eyes rolling in their wild heads peered over the rail of the deck. +They then leapt on board and began dancing like mad on the deck with +their bare feet. From the canoes the Tahitians hauled up pigs, fowl, +fish, bananas, and held them for the white men to buy. But Captain +Wilson and all his company would not buy on that day--for it was +Sunday. + +The missionaries gathered together on deck to hold their Sunday +morning service. The Tahitians stopped dancing and looked on with +amazement, as the company of white men with their children knelt to +pray and then read from the Bible. + +The Tahitians could not understand this strange worship, with no +god that could be seen. But when the white fathers and mothers and +children sang, the savages stood around with wonder and delight on +their faces as they listened to the strange and beautiful sounds. + +But the startling events of the day were not over. For out from the +beach came a canoe across the bay, and in it two Swedish sailors, +named, like some fishermen of long ago, Peter and Andrew. These +white men knew some English, but lived, not as Christians, but as the +natives lived. + +And after them came a great and aged chief named Haamanemane.[14] This +great chief went up to the "chief" of the ship, Captain Wilson, and +called out to him "Taio."[15] + +They did not know what this meant, till Peter the Swede explained +that Haamanemane wished to be the brother--the troth-friend of Captain +Wilson. They were even to change names. Captain Wilson would be called +Haamanemane, and Haamanemane would be called Wilson. + +So Captain Wilson said "Taio," and he and the chief, who was also high +priest of the gods of Tahiti, were brothers. + +Captain Wilson said to Haamanemane, through Peter, who translated each +to the other: + +"We wish to come and live in this island." + +Haamanemane said that he would speak to the king and queen of Tahiti +about it. So he got down again over the side of the vessel into the +canoe, and the paddles of his boatman flashed as they swept along over +the breakers to the beach to tell the king of the great white chief +who had come to visit them. + +All these things happened on the Sunday. On Tuesday word came that the +king and the queen would receive them. So Captain Wilson and all his +missionaries got into the whale-boat and pulled for the shore. The +natives rushed into the water, seized the boat and hauled her aground +out of reach of the great waves. + +They were startled to see the king and queen come riding on the +shoulders of men. Even when one bearer grew tired and the king or +the queen must get upon another, they were not allowed to touch the +ground. The reason was that all the land they touched became their +own, and the people carried them about so that they themselves might +not lose their land and houses by the king and queen touching them. + +So at that place, under the palm trees of Tahiti, with the beating +of the surf on the shore before them, and the great mountain forests +behind, these brown islanders of the South Seas gave a part of their +land to Captain Wilson and his men that they might live there. + +The sons of the wild men of the North Sea Islands had met their first +great adventure in bringing to the men of the South Sea Islands the +story of the love of the Father of all. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 11: Ta-hee-tee.] + +[Footnote 12: Too-b[=o]-n[=a]-ee.] + +[Footnote 13: M[=a]-t[)a]-v[)a]-ee.] + +[Footnote 14: Haa-m[)u]-n[=a]y-m[)a]-nay.] + +[Footnote 15: Ta-ce-[=o].] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ISLAND BEACON FIRES + +_Papeiha_[16] + +(Date of Incident, 1823) + + +The edge of the sea was just beginning to gleam with the gold of the +rising sun. The captain of a little ship, that tossed and rolled on +the tumbling ocean, looked out anxiously over the bow. Around him +everywhere was the wild waste of the Pacific Ocean. Through day after +day he had tacked and veered, baffled by contrary winds. Now, with +little food left in the ship, starvation on the open ocean stared them +in the face. + +They were searching for an island of which they had heard, but which +they had never seen. + +The captain searched the horizon again, but he saw nothing, except +that ahead of him, on the sky-line to the S.W., great clouds had +gathered. He turned round and went to the master-missionary--the hero +and explorer and shipbuilder, John Williams, saying: + +"We must give up the search or we shall all be starved." + +John Williams knew that this was true; yet he hated the thought of +going back. He was a scout exploring at the head of God's navy. He had +left his home in London and with his young wife had sailed across the +world to the South Seas to carry the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the +people there. He was living on the island of Raiatea: but as he +himself said, "I cannot be confined within the limits of a single +reef." He wanted to pass on the torch to other islands. So he was now +on this voyage of discovery. + +It was seven o'clock when the captain told John Williams that they +must give up the search. + +"In an hour's time," said Williams, "we will turn back if we have not +sighted Rarotonga." + +So they sailed on. The sun climbed the sky, the cool dawn was giving +way to the heat of day. + +"Go up the mast and look ahead," said Williams to a South Sea Island +native. Then he paced the deck, hoping to hear the cry of "Land," but +nothing could the native see. + +"Go up again," cried Williams a little later. And again there was +nothing. Four times the man climbed the mast, and four times he +reported only sea and sky and cloud. Gradually the sun's heat had +gathered up the great mountains of cloud, and the sky was clear to the +edge of the ocean. Then there came a sudden cry from the masthead: + +"Teie teie, taua fenua, nei!"[17] + +"Here, here is the land we have been seeking." + +All rushed to the bows. As the ship sailed on and they came nearer, +they saw a lovely island. Mountains, towering peak on peak, with deep +green valleys between brown rocky heights hung with vines, and the +great ocean breakers booming in one white line of foaming surf on the +reef of living coral, made it look like a vision of fairyland. + +They had discovered Rarotonga. + +But what of the people of the island? + +They were said to be cannibals. + +Would they receive the missionaries with clubs and spears? Who would +go ashore? + +On board the ship were brown South Sea men from the island where John +Williams lived. They had burned their idols, and now they too were +missionaries of Jesus Christ. Their leader was a fearless young man, +Papeiha. He was so daring that once, when everybody else was afraid to +go from the ship to a cannibal island, he bound his Bible in his loin +cloth, tied them to the top of his head, and swam ashore, defying the +sharks, and unafraid of the still more cruel islanders. + +So at Rarotonga, when the call came, "Who will go ashore?" and a canoe +was let down from the ship's side, two men, Papeiha and his friend +Vahineino,[18] leapt into it. Those two fearlessly paddled towards the +shore, which was now one brown stretch of Rarotongans crowded together +to see this strange ship with wings that had sailed from over the +sea's edge. + +The Rarotongans seemed friendly; so Papeiha and Vahineino, who knew +the ways of the water from babyhood and could swim before they could +walk, waited for a great Pacific breaker, and then swept in on her +foaming crest. The canoe grated on the shore. They walked up the beach +under the shade of a grove of trees and said to the Rarotongan king, +Makea,[19] and his people: + +"We have come to tell you that many of the islands of the sea have +burned their idols. Once we in those islands pierced each other with +spears and beat each other to death with clubs; we brutally treated +our women, and the children taken in war were strung together by their +ears like fish on a line. To-day we come--before you have destroyed +each other altogether in your wars--to tell you of the great God, our +Father, who through His Son Jesus Christ has taught us how to live as +brothers." + +King Makea said he was pleased to hear these things, and came in his +canoe to the ship to take the other native teachers on shore with him. +The ship stood off for the night, for the ocean there is too deep for +anchorage. + +Papeiha and his brown friends, with their wives, went ashore. Night +fell, and they were preparing to sleep, when, above the thud and hiss +of the waves they heard the noise of approaching crowds. The footsteps +and the talking came nearer, while the little group of Christians +listened intently. At last a chief, carried by his warriors, came +near. He was the fiercest and most powerful chief on the island. + +When he came close to Papeiha and his friends, the chief demanded that +the wife of one of the Christian teachers should be given to him, +so that he might take her away with him as his twentieth wife. The +teachers argued with the chief, the woman wept; but he ordered the +woman to be seized and taken off. She resisted, as did the others. +Their clothes were torn to tatters by the ferocious Rarotongans. All +would have been over with the Christians, had not Tapairu,[20] a brave +Rarotongan woman and the cousin of the king, opposed the chiefs and +even fought with her hands to save the teacher's wife. At last the +fierce chief gave in, and Papeiha and his friends, before the sun +had risen, hurried to the beach, leapt into their canoe and paddled +swiftly to the ship. + +"We must wait and come to this island another day when the people are +more friendly," said every one--except Papeiha, who never would turn +back. "Let me stay with them," said he. + +He knew that he might be slain and eaten by the savage cannibals on +the island. But without fuss, leaving everything he had upon the +ship except his clothes and his native Testament, he dropped into his +canoe, seized the paddle, and with swift, strong strokes that never +faltered, drove the canoe skimming over the rolling waves till it +leapt to the summit of a breaking wave and ground upon the shore. + +The savages came jostling and waving spears and clubs as they crowded +round him. + +"Let us take him to Makea." + +So Papeiha was led to the chief. As he walked he heard them shouting +to one another, "I'll have his hat," "I'll have his jacket," "I'll +have his shirt." + +At length he reached the chief, who looked and said, "Speak to us, O +man, that we may know why you persist in coming." + +"I come," he answered, looking round on all the people, "so that you +may all learn of the true God, and that you, like all the people in +the far-off islands of the sea, may take your gods made of wood, of +birds' feathers and of cloth, and burn them." + +A roar of anger and horror burst from the people. "What!" they cried, +"burn the gods! What gods shall we then have? What shall we do without +the gods?" + +They were angry, but there was something in the bold face of Papeiha +that kept them from slaying him. They allowed him to stay, and did not +kill him. + +Soon after this, Papeiha one day heard shrieking and shouting and wild +roars as of men in a frenzy. He saw crowds of people round the gods +offering food to them; the priests with faces blackened with charcoal +and with bodies painted with stripes of red and yellow, the +warriors with great waving head-dresses of birds' feathers and white +sea-shells. Papeiha, without taking any thought of the peril that he +rushed into, went into the midst of the people and said: + +"Why do you act so foolishly? Why do you take a log of wood and carve +it, and then offer it food? It is only fit to be burned. Some day soon +you shall make these very gods fuel for fire." So with the companion +who came to help him, brown Papeiha went in and out of the island just +as brave Paul went in and out in the island of Cyprus and Wilfrid in +Britain. He would take his stand, now under a grove of bananas on +a great stone, and now in a village, where the people from the huts +gathered round, and again on the beach, where he would lift up his +voice above the boom of the ocean breakers to tell the story of Jesus. +And some of those degraded savages became Christians. + +One day he was surprised to see one of the priests come to him leading +his ten-year-old boy. + +"Take care of my boy," said the priest. "I am going to burn my god, +and I do not want my god's anger to hurt the boy. Ask your God to +protect him." So the priest went home. + +Next morning quite early, before the heat of the sun was great, +Papeiha looked out and saw the priest tottering along with bent and +aching shoulders. On his back was his cumbrous wooden god. Behind the +priest came a furious crowd, waving their arms and crying out: + +"Madman, madman, the god will kill you." + +"You may shout," answered the priest, "but you will not change me. +I am going to worship Jehovah, the God of Papeiha." And with that he +threw down the god at the feet of the teachers. One of them ran and +brought a saw, and first cut off its head and then sawed it into logs. +Some of the Rarotongans rushed away in dread. Others--even some of +the newly converted Christians--hid in the bush and peered through +the leaves to see what would happen. Papeiha lit a fire; the logs were +thrown on; the first Rarotongan idol was burned. + +"You will die," cried the priests of the fallen god. But to show that +the god was just a log of wood, the teachers took a bunch of bananas, +placed them on the ashes where the fire had died down, and roasted +them. Then they sat down and ate the bananas. + +The watching, awe-struck people looked to see the teachers fall dead, +but nothing happened. The islanders then began to wonder whether, +after all, the God of Papeiha was not the true God. Within a year they +had got together hundreds of their wooden idols, and had burned them +in enormous bonfires which flamed on the beach and lighted up the dark +background of trees. Those bonfires could be seen far out across the +Pacific Ocean, like a beacon light. + +To-day the flames of love which Papeiha bravely lighted, through +perils by water and club and cannibal feast, have shone right across +the ocean, and some of the grandchildren of those very Rarotongans who +were cannibals when Papeiha went there, have sailed away, as we shall +see later on, to preach Papeiha's gospel of the love of God to the +far-off cannibal Papuans on the steaming shores of New Guinea. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 16: P[)a]-pay-ee-h[)a].] + +[Footnote 17: Tay-ee-ay: ta-oo-a: fay-noo-[)a]: nay-ee.] + +[Footnote 18: Va-hee-nay-ee-n[=o].] + +[Footnote 19: M[)a]-kay-[)a].] + +[Footnote 20: T[)a]-p[=a]-ee-roo.] + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE DAYBREAK CALL + +_John Williams_ (Date of Incident, 1839) + + +Two men leaned on the rail of the brig _Camden_ as she swept slowly +along the southern side of the Island of Erromanga in the Western +Pacific. A steady breeze filled her sails. The sea heaved in long, +silky billows. The red glow of the rising sun was changing to the +full, clear light of morning. + +The men, as they talked, scanned the coast-line closely. There was the +grey, stone-covered beach, and, behind the beach, the dense bush and +the waving fronds of palms. Behind the palms rose the volcanic hills +of the island. The elder man straightened himself and looked keenly to +the bay from which a canoe was swiftly gliding. + +He was a broad, sturdy man, with thick brown hair over keen watchful +eyes. His open look was fearless and winning. His hands, which grasped +the rail, had both the strength and the skill of the trained mechanic +and the writer. For John Williams could build a ship, make a boat and +sail them both against any man in all the Pacific. He could work with +his hammer at the forge in the morning, make a table at his joiner's +bench in the afternoon, preach a powerful sermon in the evening, and +write a chapter of the most thrilling of books on missionary travel +through the night. Yet next morning would see him in his ship, with +her sails spread, moving out into the open Pacific, bound for a +distant island. + +"It is strange," Williams was saying to his friend Mr. Cunningham, +"but I have not slept all through the night." + +How came it that this man, who for over twenty years had faced +tempests by sea, who had never flinched before perils from savage men +and from fever, on the shores of a hundred islands in the South Seas, +should stay awake all night as his ship skirted the strange island of +Erromanga? + +It was because, having lived for all those years among the coral +islands of the brown Polynesians of the Eastern Pacific, he was now +sailing to the New Hebrides, where the fierce black cannibal islanders +of the Western Pacific slew one another. As he thought of the fierce +men of Erromanga he thought of the waving forests of brown hands he +had seen, the shouts of "Come back again to us!" that he had heard +as he left his own islands. He knew how those people loved him in the +Samoan Islands, but he could not rest while others lay far off who +had never heard the story of Jesus. "I cannot be content," he said, +"within the narrow limits of a single reef." + +But the black islanders were wild men who covered their dark faces +with soot and painted their lips with flaming red, yet their cruel +hearts were blacker than their faces, and their anger more fiery than +their scarlet lips. They were treacherous and violent savages who +would smash a skull by one blow with a great club; or leaping on a man +from behind, would cut through his spine with a single stroke of their +tomahawks, and then drag him off to their cannibal oven. + +John Williams cared so much for his work of telling the islanders +about God their Father, that he lay awake wondering how he could +carry it on among these wild people. It never crossed his mind that +he should hold back to save himself from danger. It was for this work +that he had crossed the world. + +"Let down the whale-boat." His voice rang out without a tremor of +fear. His eyes were on the canoe in which three black Erromangans were +paddling across the bay. As the boat touched the water, he and the +crew of four dropped into her, with Captain Morgan and two friends, +Harris and Cunningham. The oars dipped and flashed in the morning sun +as the whale-boat flew along towards the canoe. When they reached it, +Williams spoke in the dialects of his other islands, but none could +the three savages in the canoe understand. So he gave them some beads +and fish-hooks as a present to show that he was a friend and again his +boat shot away toward the beach. + +They pulled to a creek where a brook ran down in a lovely valley +between two mountains. On the beach stood some Erromangan natives, +with their eyes (half fierce, half frightened) looking out under their +matted jungle of hair. + +Picking up a bucket from the boat, Williams held it out to the chief +and made signs to show that he wished for water from the brook. The +chief took the bucket, and, turning, ran up the beach and disappeared. +For a quarter of an hour they waited; and for half an hour. At last, +when the sun was now high in the sky, the chief returned with the +water. + +Williams drank from the water to show his friendliness. Then his +friend, Harris, swinging himself over the side of the boat, waded +ashore through the cool, sparkling, shallow water and sat down. The +natives ran away, but soon came back with cocoa-nuts and opened them +for him to drink. + + * * * * * + +"See," said Williams, "there are boys playing on the beach; that is a +good sign." + +"Yes," answered Captain Morgan, "but there are no women, and when the +savages mean mischief they send their women away." + +Williams now waded ashore and Cunningham followed him. Captain Morgan +stopped to throw out the anchor of his little boat and then stepped +out and went ashore, leaving his crew of four brown islanders resting +on their oars. + +Williams and his two companions scrambled up the stony beach over +the grey stones and boulders alongside the tumbling brook for over a +hundred yards. Turning to the right they were lost to sight from the +water-edge. Captain Morgan was just following them when he heard a +terrified yell from the crew in the boat. + +Williams and his friends had gone into the bush, Harris in front, +Cunningham next, and Williams last. Suddenly Harris, who had +disappeared in the bush, rushed out followed by yelling savages with +clubs. Harris rushed down the bank of the brook, stumbled, and fell +in. The water dashed over him, and the Erromangans, with the red fury +of slaughter in their eyes, leapt in and beat in his skull with clubs. + +Cunningham, with a native at his heels with lifted club, stooped, +picked up a great pebble and hurled it full at the savage who was +pursuing him. The man was stunned. Turning again, Cunningham leapt +safely into the boat. + +Williams, leaving the brook, had rushed down the beach to leap into +the sea. Reaching the edge of the water, where the beach falls steeply +into the sea, he slipped on a pebble and fell into the water. + +Cunningham, from the boat, hurled stones at the natives rushing at +Williams, who lay prostrate in the water with a savage over him with +uplifted club. The club fell, and other Erromangans, rushing in, beat +him with their clubs and shot their arrows into him until the ripples +of the beach ran red with his blood. + +The hero who had carried the flaming torch of peace on earth to +the savages on scores of islands across the great Pacific Ocean was +dead--the first martyr of Erromanga. + + * * * * * + +When _The Camden_ sailed back to Samoa, scores of canoes put out to +meet her. A brown Samoan guided the first canoe. + +"Missi William," he shouted. + +"He is dead," came the answer. + +The man stood as though stunned. He dropped his paddle; he drooped his +head, and great tears welled out from the eyes of this dark islander +and ran down his cheeks. + +The news spread like wildfire over the islands, and from all +directions came the natives crying in multitudes: + +"Aue,[21] Williamu, Aue, Tama!" (Alas, Williams, Alas, our Father!) + +And the chief Malietoa,[22] coming into the presence of Mrs. Williams, +cried: + +"Alas, Williamu, Williamu, our father, our father! He has turned his +face from us! We shall never see him more! He that brought us the good +word of Salvation is gone! O cruel heathen, they know not what they +did! How great a man they have destroyed!" + +John Williams, the torch-bearer of the Pacific, whom the brown +men loved, the great pioneer, who dared death on the grey beach +of Erromanga, sounds a morning bugle-call to us, a Reveille to our +slumbering camps: + + "The daybreak call, +Hark how loud and clear I hear it sound; Swift to your places, swift +to the head of the army, Pioneers, O Pioneers!"[23] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 21: A-oo-ay.] + +[Footnote 22: M[)a]-lee-ay-to-[)a].] + +[Footnote 23: Walt Whitman.] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +KAPIOLANI, THE HEROINE OF HAWAII + +_Kapiolani_ + +(Date of Incident, 1824) + + +"Pele[24] the all-terrible, the fire goddess, will hurl her thunder +and her stones, and will slay you," cried the angry priests of +Hawaii.[25] "You no longer pay your sacrifices to her. Once you gave +her hundreds of hogs, but now you give nothing. You worship the new +God Jehovah. She, the great Pele, will come upon you, she and +the Husband of Thunder, with the Fire-Thruster, and the Red-Fire +Cloud-Queen, they will destroy you altogether." + +The listening Hawaiians shuddered as they saw the shaggy priests +calling down the anger of Pele. One of the priests was a gigantic man +over six feet five inches high, whose strength was so terrible that he +could leap at his victims and break their bones by his embrace. + +Away there in the volcanic island[26] in the centre of the greatest +ocean in the world--the Pacific Ocean--they had always as children +been taught to fear the great goddess. + +They were Christians; but they had only been Christians for a short +time, and they still trembled at the name of the goddess Pele, who +lived up in the mountains in the boiling crater of the fiery volcano, +and ruled their island. + +Their fathers had told them how she would get angry, and would pour +out red-hot rivers of molten stone that would eat up all the trees and +people and run hissing into the Pacific Ocean. There to that day was +that river of stone--a long tongue of cold, hard lava--stretching +down to the shore of the island, and here across the trees on the +mountain-top could be seen, even now, the smoke of her anger. +Perhaps, after all, Pele was greater than Jehovah--she was certainly +terrible--and she was very near! + +"If you do not offer fire to her, as you used to do," the priests went +on, "she will pour down her fire into the sea and kill all your fish. +She will fill up your fishing grounds with the pahoehoe[27] (lava), +and you will starve. Great is Pele and greatly to be feared." + +The priests were angry because the preaching of the missionaries had +led many away from the worship of Pele which, of course, meant fewer +hogs for themselves; and now the whole nation on Hawaii, that volcanic +island of the seas, seemed to be deserting her. + +The people began to waver under the threats, but a brown-faced woman, +with strong, fearless eyes that looked out with scorn on Pele priests, +was not to be terrified. + +"It is Kapiolani,[28] the chieftainess," murmured the people to one +another. "She is Christian; will she forsake Jehovah and return to +Pele?" + +Only four years before this, Kapiolani had--according to the custom of +the Hawaiian chieftainesses, married many husbands, and she had given +way to drinking habits. Then she had become a Christian, giving up her +drinking and sending away all her husbands save one. She had thrown +away her idols and now taught the people in their huts the story of +Christ. + +"Pele is nought," she declared, "I will go to Kilawea,[29] the +mountain of the fires where the smoke and stones go up, and Pele shall +not touch me. My God, Jehovah, made the mountain and the fires within +it too, as He made us all." + +So it was noised through the island that Kapiolani, the queenly, would +defy Pele the goddess. The priests threatened her with awful torments +of fire from the goddess; her people pleaded with her not to dare the +fires of Kilawea. But Kapiolani pressed on, and eighty of her people +made up their minds to go with her. She climbed the mountain paths, +through lovely valleys hung with trees, up and up to where the hard +rocky lava-river cut the feet of those who walked upon it. + +Day by day they asked her to go back, and always she answered, "If I +am destroyed you may believe in Pele; if I live you must all believe +in the true God, Jehovah." + +As she drew nearer to the crater she saw the great cloud of smoke that +came up from the volcano and felt the heat of its awful fires. But she +did not draw back. + +As she climbed upward she saw by the side of the path low bushes, and +on them beautiful red and yellow berries, growing in clusters. The +berries were like large currants. + +"It is chelo,"[30] said the priests, "it is Pele's berry. You must not +touch them unless we ask her. She will breathe fire on you." + +Kapiolani broke off a branch from one of the bushes regardless of +the horrified faces of the priests. And she ate the berries, without +stopping to ask the goddess for her permission. + +She carried a branch of the berries in her hand. If she had told them +what she was going to do they would have been frenzied with fear and +horror. + +Up she climbed until the full terrors of the boiling crater of Kilawea +burst on her sight. Before her an immense gulf yawned in the shape of +the crescent moon, eight miles in circumference and over a thousand +feet deep. Down in the smoking hollow, hundreds of feet beneath her, a +lake of fiery lava rolled in flaming waves against precipices of +rock. This ever-moving lake of molten fire is called: "The House of +Everlasting Burning." This surging lake was dotted with tiny mountain +islets, and, from the tops of their little peaks, pyramids of flame +blazed and columns of grey smoke went up. From some of these little +islands streams of blazing lava rolled down into the lake of fire. The +air was filled with the roar of the furnaces of flame. + +Even the fearless Kapiolani stood in awe as she looked. But she did +not flinch, though here and there, as she walked, the crust of the +lava cracked under her feet and the ground was hot with hidden fire. + +She came to the very edge of the crater. To come so far without +offering hogs and fish to the fiery goddess was in itself enough to +bring a fiery river of molten lava upon her. Kapiolani offered nothing +save defiance. Audacity, they thought, could go no further. + +Here, a priestess of Pele came, and raising her hands in threat +denounced death on the head of Kapiolani if she came further. +Kapiolani pulled from her robe a book. In it--for it was her +New Testament--she read to the priestess of the one true, loving +Father-God. + +Then Kapiolani did a thing at which the very limbs of those who +watched trembled and shivered. She went to the edge of the crater and +stepped over onto a jutting rock and let herself down and down toward +the sulphurous burning lake. The ground cracked under her feet and +sulphurous steam hissed through crevices in the rock, as though the +demons of Pele fumed in their frenzy. Hundreds of staring, wondering +eyes followed her, fascinated and yet horrified. + +Then she stood on a ledge of rock, and, offering up prayer and praise +to the God of all, Who made the volcano and Who made her, she cast the +Pele berries into the lake, and sent stone after stone down into the +flaming lava. It was the most awful insult that could be offered to +Pele! Now surely she would leap up in fiery anger, and, with a hail +of burning stones, consume Kapiolani. But nothing happened; and +Kapiolani, turning, climbed the steep ascent of the crater edge and at +last stood again unharmed among her people. She spoke to her people, +telling them again that Jehovah made the fires. She called on them all +to sing to His praise and, for the first time, there rang across the +crater of Kilawea the song of Christians. The power of the priests +was gone, and from that hour the people all over that island who had +trembled and hesitated between Pele and Christ turned to the worship +of our Lord Jesus, the Son of God the Father Almighty. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 24: Pay-lay.] + +[Footnote 25: Hah-wye-ee.] + +[Footnote 26: Discovered by Captain Cook in 1778. The first Christian +missionaries landed in 1819. Now the island is ruled by the United +States of America.] + +[Footnote 27: Pa-h[=o]-e-h[=o]-e.] + +[Footnote 28: Kah-pee-[=o]-l[)a]-nee. She was high female chief, in +her own right, of a large district.] + +[Footnote 29: Kil-a-wee-[)a]. The greatest active volcano in the +world.] + +[Footnote 30: Chay-lo.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE CANOE OF ADVENTURE + +_Elikana_ + +(Date of Incident, 1861) + + + "I know not where His islands lift + Their fronded palms in air; + I only know I cannot drift + Beyond His love and care." + + +I + +Manihiki Island looked like a tiny anchored canoe far away across +the Pacific, as Elikana glanced back from his place at the tiller. He +sang, meantime, quietly to himself an air that still rang in his ears, +the tune that he and his brother islanders had sung in praise of +the Power and Providence of God at the services on Manihiki. For the +Christian people of the Penrhyn group of South Sea Islands had come +together in April, 1861, for their yearly meeting, paddling from the +different quarters in their canoes through the white surge of the +breakers that thunder day and night round the island. + +Elikana looked ahead to where his own island of Rakahanga grew clearer +every moment on the sky-line ahead of them, though each time his craft +dropped into the trough of the sea between the green curves of the +league-long ocean rollers the island was lost from sight. + +He and his six companions were sailing back over the thirty miles +between Manihiki and Rakahanga, two of the many little lonely ocean +islands that stud the Pacific like stars. + +They sailed a strange craft, for it cannot be called raft or canoe +or hut. It was all these and yet was neither. Two canoes, forty-eight +feet long, sailed side by side. Between the canoes were spars, +stretching across from one to the other, lashed to each boat and +making a platform between them six feet wide. On this was built a hut, +roofed with the beautiful braided leaves of the cocoa-nut palm. + +Overhead stretched the infinite sky. Underneath lay thousands of +fathoms of blue-green ocean, whose cold, hidden deeps among the +mountains and valleys of the awful ocean under-world held strange +goblin fish-shapes. And on the surface this hut of leaves and bamboo +swung dizzily between sky and ocean on the frail canoes. And in the +canoes and the hut were six brown Rakahangan men, two women, and a +chubby, dark-eyed child, who sat contented and tired, being lapped to +sleep by the swaying waters. + +Above them the great sail made of matting of fibre, strained in +the breeze that drove them nearer to the haven where they would be. +Already they could see the gleam of the Rakahanga beach with the rim +of silver where the waves broke into foam. Then the breeze dropped. +The fibre-sail flapped uneasily against the mast, while the two little +canvas sails hung loosely, as the wind, with little warning, swung +round, and smiting them in the face began to drive them back into the +ocean again. + +Elikana and his friends knew the sea almost like fish, from the time +they were babies. And they were little troubled by the turn of the +breeze, save that it would delay their homecoming. They tried in vain +to make headway. Slowly, but surely they were driven back from land, +till they could see that there was no other thing but just to turn +about and let her run back to Manihiki. In the canoes were enough +cocoa-nuts to feed them for days if need be, and two large calabashes +of water. + +The swift night fell, but the wind held strong, and one man sat at +the tiller while two others baled out the water that leaked into the +canoes. They kept a keen watch, expecting to sight Manihiki; but when +the dawn flashed out of the sky in the East, where the island should +have been, there was neither Manihiki nor any other land at all. They +had no chart nor compass; north and south and east and west stretched +the wastes of the Pacific for hundreds of leagues. Only here and there +in the ocean, and all unseen to them, like little groups of mushrooms +on a limitless prairie, lay groups of islets. + +They might, indeed, sail for a year without ever sighting any land; +and one storm-driven wave of the great ocean could smite their little +egg-shell craft to the bottom of the sea. + +They gathered together in the hut and with anxious faces talked of +what they might do. They knew that far off to the southwest lay the +islands of Samoa, and Rarotonga. So they set the bows of their craft +southward. Morning grew to blazing noon and fell to evening and night, +and nothing did they see save the glittering sparkling waters of the +uncharted ocean, cut here and there by the cruel fin of a waiting +shark. It was Saturday when they started; and night fell seven times +while their wonderful hut-boat crept southward along the water, till +the following Friday. Then the wind changed, and, springing up from +the south, drove them wearily back once more in their tracks, and then +bore them eastward. + +For another week they drove before the breeze, feeding on the +cocoa-nuts. But the water in the calabashes was gone. Then on +the morning of the second Friday, the fourteenth day of their +sea-wanderings, just when the sun in mid heaven was blazing its +noon-heat upon them and most of the little crew were lying under +the shade of the hut and the sail to doze away the hours of tedious +hunger, they heard the cry of "Land!" and leaping to their feet gazed +ahead at the welcome sight. With sail and paddle they urged the craft +on toward the island. + +Then night fell, and with it squalls of wind and rain came +and buffeted them till they had to forsake the paddles for the +bailing-vessels to keep the boat afloat. Taking down the sails they +spread them flat to catch the pouring rain, and then poured this +precious fresh water--true water of life to them--into their +calabashes. But when morning came no land could be seen anywhere. It +was as though the island had been a land of enchantment and mirage, +and now had faded away. Yet hope sprang in them erect and glad next +day when land was sighted again; but the sea and the wind, as though +driven by the spirits of contrariness, smote them back. + +For two more days they guided the canoe with the tiller and tried to +set her in one steady direction. Then, tired and out of heart, after +sixteen days of ceaseless and useless effort, they gave it up and let +her drift, for the winds and currents to take her where they would. + +At night each man stood in his canoe almost starving and parched with +thirst, with aching back, stooping to dip the water from the canoe and +rising to pour it over the side. For hour after hour, while the calm +moon slowly climbed the sky, each slaved at his dull task. Lulled by +the heave and fall of the long-backed rollers as they slid under the +keels of the canoes, the men nearly dropped asleep where they +stood. The quiet waters crooned to them like a mother singing an old +lullaby--crooned and called, till a voice deep within them said, "It +is better to lie down and sleep and die than to live and fight and +starve." + +Then a moan from the sleeping child, or a sight of a streaming ray +of moonlight on the face of its mother would send that nameless Voice +shivering back to its deep hiding-place--and the man would stoop and +bail again. + +Each evening as it fell saw their anxious eyes looking west and north +and south for land, and always there was only the weary waste of +waters. And as the sun rose, they hardly dared open their eyes to the +unbroken rim of blue-grey that circled them like a steel prison. They +saw the thin edge of the moon grow to full blaze and then fade to a +corn sickle again as days and nights grew to weeks and a whole month +had passed. + +Every morning, as the pearl-grey sea turned to pink and then to +gleaming blue, they knelt on the raft between the canoes and turned +their faces up to their Father in prayer, and never did the sun sink +behind the rim of waters without the sound of their voices rising into +the limitless sky with thanks for safe-keeping. + +Slowly the pile of cocoa-nuts lessened. Each one of them with its +sweet milk and flesh was more precious to them than a golden chalice +set with rubies. The drops of milk that dripped from them were more +than ropes of pearls. + +At last eight Sundays had followed one upon another; and now at the +end of the day there was only the half of one cocoa-nut remaining. +When that was gone--all would be over. So they knelt down under the +cloudless sky on an evening calm and beautiful. They were on that +invisible line in the Great Pacific where the day ends and begins. +Those seven on the tiny craft were, indeed, we cannot but believe, the +last worshippers in all the great world-house of God as Sunday drew +to its end just where they were. Was it to be the last time that they +would pray to God in this life? + +Prayer ended; night was falling. Elikana the leader, who had kept +their spirits from utterly failing, stood up and gazed out with great +anxious eyes before the last light should fail. + +"Look, there upon the edge of the sea where the sun sets. Is it--" He +could hardly dare to believe that it was not the mirage of his weary +brain. But one and another and then all peered out through the swiftly +waning light and saw that indeed it was land. + +Then a squall of wind sprang up, blowing them away from the land. Was +this last hope, by a fine ecstasy of torture, to be dangled before +them and then snatched away? But with the danger came the help; with +the wind came the rain; cool, sweet, refreshing, life-giving water. +Then the squall of wind dropped and changed. They hoisted the one sail +that had not blown to tatters, and drove for land. + +Yet their most awful danger still lay before them. The roar of the +breakers on the cruel coral reef caught their ears. But there was +nothing for it but to risk the peril. They were among the breakers +which caught and tossed them on like eggshells. The scourge of the +surf swept them; a woman, a man--even the child, were torn from them +and ground on the ghastly teeth of the coral. Five were swept over +with the craft into the still, blue lagoon, and landing they fell +prone upon the shore, just breathing and no more, after the giant +buffeting of the thundering rollers, following the long, slow +starvation of their wonderful journey in the hut on the canoes among +"the waters of the wondrous isles." + + "Wake: the silver dusk returning + Up the beach of darkness brims, + And the ship of sunrise burning + Strands upon the eastern rims." + + +II + +Thrown up by the ocean in the darkness like driftwood, Elikana and his +companions lay on the grey shore. Against the dim light of the stars +and beyond the beach of darkness they could see the fronds of +the palms waving. The five survivors were starving, and the green +cocoa-nuts hung above them, filled with food and drink. But their +bodies, broken and tormented as they were by hunger and the battering +breakers, refused even to rise and climb for the food that meant life. +So they lay there, as though dead. + + * * * * * + +Over the ridge of the beach came a man. His pale copper skin shone in +the fresh sunlight of the morning. His quick black eyes were caught by +the sight of torn clothing hanging on a bush. Moving swiftly down the +beach of pounded coral, he saw a man lying with arms thrown out, face +downward. Turning the body over Faivaatala[31] found that the man was +dead. Taking the body in his arms he staggered with it up the beach, +and placed it under the shade of the trees. Returning he found the +living five. Their gaunt bodies and the broken craft on the shore told +him without words the story of their long drifting over the wilderness +of the waters. + +Without stopping to waste words in empty sympathy with starving men, +Faivaatala ran to the nearest cocoa-nut tree and, climbing it, threw +down luscious nuts. Those below quickly knocked off the tops, drank +deep draughts of the cool milk and then ate. Coming down again, +Faivaatala kindled a fire and soon had some fish grilling for these +strange wanderers thrown up on the tiny islet. + +They had no time to thank him before he ran off and swiftly paddled +to Motutala, the island where he lived, to tell the story of these +strange castaways. He came back with other helpers in canoes, and the +five getting aboard were swiftly paddled to Motutala. + +As the canoes skimmed over the surface of the great lagoon Elikana +and his friends could see, spread out in a great semi-circle that +stretched to the horizon, the long low coral islets crowned with palms +which form part of the Ellice Islands. + +The islanders, men, women, and children, ran down the beach to see the +newcomers and soon had set apart huts for them and made them welcome. +Elikana gathered them round him, and began to tell them about the +love of Jesus and the protecting care of God the Father. It all seemed +strange to them, but quickly they learned from him, and he began to +teach them and their children. This went on for four months, till one +day Elikana said: "I must go away and learn more so that I can teach +you more." + +But they had become so fond of Elikana that they said: "No, you must +not leave us," and it was only when he promised to come back with +another teacher to help him, that they could bring themselves to part +with him. So when a ship came to the island to trade in cocoa-nuts +Elikana went aboard and sailed to Samoa to the London Missionary +Society's training college there at Malua. + + * * * * * + +"A ship! A ship!" The cry was taken up through the island, and the +people running down the beach saw a large sailing vessel. Boats put +down and sculls flashed as sailors pulled swiftly to the shore. + +They landed and the people gathered round to see and to hear what they +would say. + +"Come onto our ship," said these men, who had sailed there from Peru, +"and we will show you how you can be rich with many knives and much +calico." + +But the islanders shook their heads and said they would stay where +they were. Then a wicked white man named Tom Rose, who lived on the +island and knew how much the people were looking forward to the day +when Elikana would come back to teach them, went to the traders and +whispered what he knew to them. + +So the Peruvian traders, with craft shining in their eyes, turned +again to the islanders and said: "If you will come with us, we will +take you where you will be taught all that men can know about God." + +At this the islanders broke out into glad cries and speaking to one +another said: "Let us go and learn these things." + +The day came for sailing, and as the sun rose, hundreds of brown feet +were running to the beach, children dancing with excitement, women +saying "Goodbye" to their husbands--men, who for the first time in +all their lives were to leave their tiny islet for the wonderful world +beyond the ocean. + +So two hundred of them went on board. The sails were hoisted and they +went away never to return; sailed away not to learn of Jesus, but to +the sting of the lash and the shattering bullet, the bondage of the +plantations, and to death at the hands of those merciless beasts of +prey, the Peruvian slavers. + + * * * * * + +Years passed and a little fifty-ton trading vessel came to anchor +outside the reef. One man and then another and another got down into +the little boat and pulled for the shore. Elikana had returned. The +women and children ran down to meet him--but few men were there, for +nearly all had gone. + +"Where is this one? Where is the other?" cried Elikana, with sad face +as he looked around on them. + +"Gone, gone," came the answer; "carried away by the man-stealing +ships." + +Elikana turned to the white missionary who had come with him, to ask +what they could do. + +"We will leave Joane and his wife here," replied Mr. Murray. + + * * * * * + +So a teacher from Samoa stayed there and taught the people, while +Elikana went to begin work in an island near by. + +To-day a white lady missionary has gone to live in the Ellice Islands, +and the people are Christians, and no slave-trader can come to snatch +them away. + +So there sailed over the waters of the wondrous isles first the boat +of sunrise and then the ship of darkness, and last of all the ship +of the Peace of God. The ship of darkness had seemed for a time to +conquer, but her day is now over; and to-day on that beach, as the +sunlight brims over the edge of the sea, and a new Lord's Day dawns, +you may hear the islanders sing their praise to the Light of the +World, Who shines upon them and keeps them safe. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 31: F[)a]-ee-v[)a] t[)a] l[=a].] + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE ARROWS OF SANTA CRUZ + +_Bishop Patteson_ + +(Date of Incident--August 15th, 1864) + + +The brown crew of _The Southern Cross_ breathed freely again as the +anchor swung into place and the schooner began to nose her way out +into the open Pacific. They were hardened to dangers, but the Island +of Tawny Cannibals had strained their nerve, by its hourly perils +from club and flying arrow. The men were glad to see their ship's bows +plunge freely again through the long-backed rollers. + +As they set her course to the Island of Santa Cruz the crew talked +together of the men of the island they had left. In his cabin sat a +great bronzed bearded man writing a letter to his own people far away +on the other side of the world. Here are the very words that he wrote +as he told the story of one of the dangers through which they had just +passed on the island: + + "As I sat on the beach with a crowd about me, most of them + suddenly jumped up and ran off. Turning my head I saw a man (from + the boat they saw two) coming to me with club uplifted. I remained + sitting and held out a few fish-hooks to him, but one or two men + jumped up and, seizing him by the waist, forced him off. + + "After a few minutes I went back to the boat. I found out that + a poor fellow called Moliteum was shot dead two months ago by a + white trader for stealing a bit of calico. The wonder was, not + that they wanted to avenge the death of their kinsman, but that + others should have prevented it. How could they possibly know that + I was not one of the wicked set? Yet they did.... The plan of + going among the people unarmed makes them regard me as a friend." + +Then he says of these men who had just tried to kill him: "The people, +though constantly fighting, and cannibals and the rest of it, are to +me very attractive." + +The ship sailed on till they heard ahead of them the beating of the +surf on the reef of Santa Cruz. Behind the silver line of the breakers +the waving fronds of her palms came into sight. They put _The Southern +Cross_ in, cast anchor, and let a boat down from her side. Into the +boat tumbled a British sailor named Pearce, a young twenty-year-old +Englishman named Atkin, and three brown South-Sea Island boys from the +missionary training college for native teachers on Norfolk Island, +and their leader, Bishop Patteson, the white man who, having faced the +clubs of savages on a score of islands, never flinched from walking +into peril again to lead them to know of "the best Man in the world, +Jesus Christ." These brown boys were young helpers of Bishop Patteson. +And one of them especially, Fisher Young, would have died for his +great white leader gladly. They were like father and son. + +The reef, covered at mid-tide with curling waters mottled with the +foam of the broken waves, was alive with men; while the beach beyond +was black with crowds of the wild islanders who had come down to see +the strange visitors from the ship. The four men sculled the boat +on to the edge of the reef and then rested on their oars as Patteson +swung himself over the side into the cool water. He waded across the +reef between the hosts of savages, and in every hand was a club or +spear or a six-foot wooden bow with an arrow ready to notch in its +bamboo string. + +Patteson had come to make friends with them. So he entered a dark +wattled house and sat down to talk. The doorway was filled with +the faces of wondering men. As he looked on them a strange gleam of +longing came into his eyes and a smile of great tenderness softened +the strength of his brown face--the longing and the tenderness of +a shepherd looking for wandering sheep who are lost on the wild +mountains of the world. + +Then he rose, left the house, and went back to the boat. The water was +now one seething cauldron of men--walking, splashing, swimming. Some, +as Patteson climbed into his boat, caught hold of the gunwale and +could hardly be made to loosen their hold. The four young fellows in +the boat swung their oars and got her under way, but they had made +barely half a dozen strokes when, without warning, an arrow whizzed +through the air into the boat. A cloud of arrows followed. + +Six canoes were now filled with savage Santa Cruzans, who surrounded +the boat and joined in the shooting. Patteson, who was in the stern +between his boys and the bowmen, had not shipped the rudder, so +he held it up, as the boat shot ahead of the canoes, to shield off +arrows. + +Turning round to see whither his now rudderless boat was being pulled, +he saw that they were heading for a little bay in the reef, which +would have wrecked their hopes of safety. + +"Pull, port oars, pull on steadily," shouted Patteson; and they made +for _The Southern Cross_. + +As he called to them he saw Pearce, the young British sailor, lying +between the thwarts with the long shaft of an arrow in his chest, and +a young Norfolk Islander with an arrow under his left eye. The +arrows flew around them in clouds, and suddenly Fisher Young--the +nineteen-year-old Polynesian whom he loved as a son--who was pulling +stroke, gave a faint scream. He was shot through the left wrist. + +"Look out, sir! close to you," cried one of his crew. But the arrows +were all around him. All the way to the schooner the canoes skimmed +over the water chasing the boat. The four youths, including the +wounded, pulled on bravely and steadily. At last they reached the ship +and climbed on board, while the canoes--fearing vengeance from the men +on the schooner--turned and fled. + +Once aboard, Bishop Patteson knelt by the side of Pearce, drew out +the arrow which had run more than five inches deep into his chest, +and bound up his wound. Turning to Fisher, he found that the arrow had +gone through the wrist and had broken off in the wound. Taking hold +of the point of the arrow where it stood out on the lower side of the +wrist, Patteson pulled it through, though the agony of the boy was +very great. + +The arrows were wooden-headed and not poisoned. The wounds seemed to +be healing, but a few days later Fisher said, "I can't make out what +makes my jaws feel so stiff." + +Fisher Young was the grandson of fierce, foul Pitcairn Island +cannibals, and was himself a brave and pure Christian lad. He had +faced death with his master many times on coral reefs, in savage +villages, on wild seas and under the clubs of Pacific islanders. Now +he was face to face with something more difficult than a swift +and dangerous adventure--the slow, dying agony of lockjaw. He grew +steadily worse in spite of everything that Patteson could do. + +Near to the end he said faintly, "Kiss me; I am very glad I was doing +my duty. Tell my father that I was in the path of duty, and he will be +so glad. Poor Santa Cruz people!" + +He spoke in that way of the people who had killed him. The young brown +hero lies to-day, as he would have wished, in the port that was named +after the Bishop whom he loved, and who was his hero, Port Patteson. + +"I loved him," said Patteson, "as I think I never loved anyone else." +Fisher's love to his Bishop had been that of a youth to the hero whom +he worships, but Patteson had led that brown islander still further, +for he had taught the boy to love the Hero of all heroes, Jesus +Christ. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +FIVE KNOTS IN A PALM LEAF + +_The Death of Patteson_ + +(Date of Incident, September 20th, 1871) + + +The masts of the schooner _The Southern Cross_ swung gently to and +fro across the darkening sky as the long, calm rollers of the Pacific +slipped past her hull. Her bows spread only a ripple of water as the +slight breeze bore her slowly towards the island of Nukapu.[32] + +On deck stood a group of men, their brown faces turned to a tall, +bearded man. As the light of the setting sun gleamed on his bronze +face, it kindled his brave eyes and showed the grave smile that played +about the corners of his mouth. They all looked on him with that +worship which strong men give to a hero, who can be both brave and +kindly. But "he wist not that his face shone" for them. + +Patteson read to these young men from a Book; and the words that +he read were these: "And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God and +saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' And he knelt down and cried, +with a loud voice, 'Lord, lay not this sin to their charge'; and when +he had said this, he fell asleep." + +When he had spoken to them strongly on these words and said how it may +come to any man who worships Jesus to suffer so, Bishop Patteson and +all except the man on watch went to their sleep. The South Sea Island +men and the young Englishman who were there remembered all their +lives what Patteson had said that evening; partly because these men +themselves had seen him brave such a death as Stephen's again and +again, and, indeed, they had themselves stood in peril by his side +face to face with threatening savages, but even more because of the +adventure that came to them on the next day. + +At dawn they sighted land, and by eleven o'clock they were so near +that they could see, shimmering in the heat of the midsummer sun, the +white beach of coral sand and the drooping palms that make all the +island of Nukapu green.[33] Looking out under their hands to the +island, the men aboard _The Southern Cross_ could see four great +canoes, with their sails set, hovering like hawks about the circling +reef which lay between them and the island. On the reef the blue waves +beat and broke into a gleaming line of cool white foam. + +The slight breeze was hardly strong enough to help the ship to make +the island. It was as though she knew the danger of that day and would +not carry Patteson and his men into the perils that lay hidden behind +the beauty of that island of Nukapu. + +Patteson knew the danger. He knew that, but a little time before their +visit, white men had come in a ship, had let down their boats and +rowed to the men of the island, had pretended to make friends, and +then, shooting some and capturing others, had sped back to the ship, +carrying off the captives to work for them on the island of Fiji. The +law of the savages of the islands was "Blood for blood." And to +them all white men belonged to one tribe. The peril that lay before +Patteson was that they might attack him in revenge for the foul crime +of those white traders. + +Just before noon the order was given to lower a boat from _The +Southern Cross_. Patteson went down into it, and sat in the stern, +while Mr. Atkin (his English helper), Stephen Taroniara, James Minipa, +and John Nonono came with him to row. The boat swung toward the +reef. Between the reef and the island lay two miles of the blue and +glittering lagoon. + +By the time the boat reached the reef six canoes full of warriors had +come together there. The tide was not high enough to float the boat +across the reef. The Nukapuan natives said they would haul the boat up +on to the reef, but the Bishop did not think it wise to consent. Then +two of the savages said to "Bisipi," as they called the Bishop: + +"Will you come into our canoe?" + +Without a moment's hesitation, knowing that confidence was the best +way to win them, he stepped into the canoe. As he entered they gave +him a basket with yams and other fruit in it. + +As the tide was low, the Bishop and the savages were obliged to wade +over the reef, dragging the canoe across to the deeper lagoon within. +The boat's crew of _The Southern Cross_ stopped in the outer sea, +drifting on the tide with the other four Nukapu canoes. They watched +the Bishop cross the lagoon in the canoe and land far off upon the +beach. Then he went from their sight. + +The brown men and the white man in the boat were trying to talk to the +islanders in the remaining canoes outside the reef, when suddenly a +savage jumped up in the nearest canoe, not ten yards from them, and +called out in his native language: + +"Have you anything like this?" + +He drew his bow to his ear and shot a yard arrow. His companions +in the other canoes leapt to their feet and sent showers of arrows +whizzing at the men in the boat, shouting as they aimed: + +"This for New Zealand man, this for Bernu man, this for Motu man." + +Pulling away with all their speed, Patteson's men were soon out of +range, but an arrow had nailed John Nonono's cap to his head. Stephen +lay in the bottom of the boat with six arrows in his chest and +shoulders. Mr. Atkin, the white man, had one in his left shoulder. + +They reached the ship and were helped on board. The arrow head was +drawn out from Mr. Atkin's shoulder, and was found to be made of a +sharpened human bone. No sooner was the arrow head out than Mr. Atkin +leapt back into the boat, insisting on going back to find Patteson. +He alone knew how and where the reef could be crossed on the tide that +was now rising. + +So they got a boat's crew from the ship, put a beaker full of water +and some food in the boat, and pulled toward the reef. + +At half-past four the tide was high enough to carry them across, and +they rowed over, looking through their glasses anxiously at the white +shore which was lined with brown figures. A canoe rowed out towards +them bringing another canoe in tow. As the boat went towards the +island, one canoe cast off the other, and went back; the second canoe +drifted towards them slowly on the still waters of the blue lagoon. + +As it came nearer they saw that in the middle of it lay Something +motionless, covered with matting. They pulled alongside, leaned over +the canoe, and lifted into their boat--the body of Patteson. The empty +canoe now drifted away. + +A yell went up from the savages on the shore. The boat was pulled +towards the ship and then the body lifted up and laid on the deck. It +had been rolled in the native matting as a shroud, tied at the head +and feet. They unrolled the mat, and there on the face of the dead +Bishop was still that wonderful, patient and winning smile, as of one +who at the moment when his head was beneath the uplifted club said, +"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge," and had then fallen asleep. + +There was a palm leaf fastened over his breast. In its long leaflets +five knots were made. On the body, in the head, the side, and the +legs were five wounds. And five men in Fiji were at work in the +plantations--men captured from Nukapu by brutal white traders. + +It was the vengeance of the savage--the call of "blood for blood"; and +the death of Patteson lies surely upon the head of those white traders +who carried death and captivity to the white coral shore of Nukapu. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 32: Noo-k[)a]-poo.] + +[Footnote 33: Midsummer day on the Equator, September 21.] + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE BOY OF THE ADVENTUROUS HEART + +_Chalmers, the Boy_ + +(Born 1841, martyred 1901) + + +The rain had poured down in such torrents that even the hardy boys of +Inverary in Scotland had been driven indoors. Now the sky had cleared, +and the sun was shining again after the great storm. The boys were out +again, and a group of them were walking toward the little stream of +Aray which tumbled through the glen down to Loch Fyne. But the stream +was "little" no longer. + +As the boys came near to the place called "The Three Bridges," where +a rough wooden bridge crossed the torrent, they walked faster towards +the stream, for they could hear it roaring in a perfect flood which +shook the timbers of the bridge. The great rainfall was running from +the hills through a thousand streamlets into the main torrent. + +Suddenly there came a shout and a scream. A boy dashed toward them +saying that one of his schoolmates had fallen into the rushing water, +and that the full spate of the Aray was carrying him away down to the +sea. The boys stood horrified--all except one, who rushed forward, +pulling off his jacket as he ran, leapt down the bank to the lower +side of the bridge, and, clinging to the timber, held to it with one +arm while he stretched out the other as the drowning boy was being +carried under the bridge, seized him, and held him tightly with his +left hand. + +James Chalmers--the boy who had gone to the rescue--though only ten +years old, could swim. Letting go of the bridge, while still holding +the other boy with one arm, he allowed the current to carry them both +down to where the branches hung over the bank to the water's surface. +Seizing one of these, he dragged himself and the boy toward the bank, +whence he was helped to dry land by his friends. + +The boy whom young James Chalmers had saved belonged to a rival +school. Often the wild-blooded boys (like their fierce Highland +ancestors who fought clan against clan) had attacked the boys of this +school and had fought them. James, whose father was a stonemason and +whose mother was a Highland lassie born near Loch Lomond, was the +leader in these battles, but all the fighting was forgotten when he +heard that a boy was in danger of his life, and so he had plunged in +as swiftly to save him as he would have done for any boy from his own +school. + +We do not hear that James was clever at lessons in his school, but +when there was anything to be done, he had the quickest hand, the +keenest eye, the swiftest mind, and the most daring heart in all the +village. + +Though he loved the hills and glens and the mountain torrent, James, +above everything else, revelled in the sea. One day a little later on, +after the rescue of his friend from drowning, James stood on the +quay at Inverary gazing across the loch and watching the sails of the +fishing boats, when he heard a loud cry. + +He looked round. There, on the edge of the quay, stood a mother +wringing her hands and calling out that her child had fallen into the +water and was drowning. James ran along the quay, and taking off his +coat as he dashed to the spot, he dived into the water and, seizing +the little child by the dress, drew him ashore. The child seemed dead, +but when they laid him on the quayside, and moved his arms, his breath +began to come and go again and the colour returned to his cheeks. + +Twice Chalmers had saved others from drowning. Three times he himself, +as the result of his daring adventures in the sea, was carried home, +supposed to be dead by drowning. + +At another time he, with two other boys, thrust a tarred herring-box +into the sea from the sandy shore between the two rocky points where +the western sea came up the narrow Loch Fyne. + +"Look at James!" shouted one of the boys to his companions as Chalmers +leapt into the box. + +It almost turned over, and he swayed and rolled and then steadied as +the box swung out from the shore. + +The other boys, laughing and shouting, towed him and his boat through +the sea as they walked along the shore. Suddenly, as they talked, they +staggered forward. The cord had snapped and they fell on the sand, +still laughing, but when they stood up again the laughter died on +their lips. James was being swiftly carried out by the current to +sea--and in a tarred herring-box! He had no paddle, and his hands were +of no effect in trying to move the boat toward the shore. + +The boys shouted. There came an answering cry from the door of a +cottage in the village. A fisherman came swinging down the beach, +strode to his boat, took the two boys into it, and taking an oar +himself and giving the other to the two boys, they pulled out with the +tide. They reached James and rescued him just as the herring-box was +sinking. He went home to the little cottage where he lived, and his +mother gave him a proper thrashing. + +Some of James' schoolfellows used to go on Sundays to a school in +Inverary. He made up his mind to join them. The class met in the +vestry of the United Presbyterian Church there. After their lesson +they went together into the church to hear a closing address. Mr. +Meikle, the minister, who was also superintendent of the school, one +afternoon took from his pocket a magazine (a copy of the "Presbyterian +Record"). From this magazine he read a letter from a brave missionary +in the far-off cannibal islands of Fiji. The letter told of the savage +life there and of how, already, the story of Jesus was leading the men +no longer to drag their victims to the cannibal ovens, nor to pile +up the skulls of their enemies so as to show their own bravery. The +writer said they were beginning happier lives in which the awful +terror of the javelin and the club, and the horror of demons and +witches was gone. + +When Mr. Meikle had finished reading the magazine he folded it up +again and then looked round on all the boys in the school, saying: + +"I wonder if there is a boy here this afternoon who will become a +missionary, and by and by bring the Gospel to other such cannibals as +those?" + +Even as the minister said those words, the adventurous heart of young +Chalmers leapt in reply as he said to himself, "Yes, God helping me, I +will." + +He was just a freckled, dark-haired boy with hazel eyes, a boy +tingling with the joy of the open air and with the love of the heave +and flow of the sea. But when he made up his mind to do a thing, +however great the difficulties or dangers, James usually carried it +through. + +So it came about that some years later in 1866, having been trained +and accepted by the London Missionary Society, Chalmers, as a young +man, walked across the gangway to a fine new British-built clipper +ship. It had been christened _John Williams_ after the great hero +missionary[34] who gave up his life on the beach of Erromanga. + +This boy, who loved the sea and breathed deep with joy in the face of +adventure and peril, had set his face towards the deep, long breakers +of the far-off Pacific. He was going to carry to the South Seas the +story of the Hero and Saviour Whom he had learnt to love within the +sound of the Atlantic breakers that dashed and fretted against the +rocks of Western Scotland. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 34: See Chapter VII.] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SCOUT OF PAPUA[35] + +_Chalmers, the Friend_ + +(Date of Incident, about 1893) + + +The quick puffing of the steam launch _Miro_ was the only sound to +break the stillness of the mysterious Aivai[36] River. On the launch +were three white people--two men and a woman. They were the first who +had ever broken the silence of that stream. + +They gazed out under the morning sun along the dead level of the +Purari[37] delta, for they had left behind them the rolling breakers +of the Gulf of Papua in order to explore this dark river. Away to the +south rolled the blue waters between this vast island of New Guinea +and Northern Australia. + +They saw on either bank the wild tangle of twisted mangroves with +their roots higher than a man, twined together like writhing serpents. +They peered through the thick bush with its green leaves drooping down +to the very water's edge. But mostly they looked ahead over the bow of +the boat along the green-brown water that lay ahead of them, dappled +with sunlight under the trees. For they were facing an unknown +district where savage Papuans lived--as wild as hawks. They did not +know what adventure might meet them at the next bend of the river. + +"Splendid! Splendid!" cried one of the white men, a bearded giant +whose flashing eyes and mass of brown hair gave him the look of a +lion. "We will make it the white woman's peace. Bravo!" And he turned +to Mrs. Abel, whose face lit up with pleasure at his happy excitement. + +"No white man has even seen the people of Iala,"[38] said Tamate--for +that was the native name given to James Chalmers, the Scottish boy +who had now gone out to far-off Papua as a missionary.[39] "Iko +there"--and he pointed to a stalwart Papuan who stood by the +funnel--"is the only one of us who has seen them and can speak their +tongue. + +"It is dangerous for your wife to go among these people," he went on, +turning to Mr. Abel, "but she will help us more than anything else +possibly can to make friends." And Mr. Abel nodded, for he knew that +when the Papuans mean to fight they send their women and children +away; and that when they saw Mrs. Abel they would believe that the +white people came as friends and not enemies. + +As the steamer carried this scouting party against the swift current +up the river toward Iala, Tamate wanted to find how far up the river +the village lay. So he beckoned Iko to him. Tamate did not know a word +of the dialect which Iko spoke, but he had with him an old wrinkled +Papuan, who knew Iko's language, and who looked out with worshipping +eyes at the great white man who was his friend. So Tamate, wishing +to ask Iko how far away the village of Iala was, spoke first to old +Vaaburi,[40] and then Vaaburi asked Iko. + +Iko stretched out his dark forefinger, and made them understand that +that finger meant the length of their journey to Iala. Then with his +other hand he touched his forefinger under the second joint to show +how far they had travelled on their journey--not a third of the +distance. + +Hour after hour went by, as the steamer drove her way through the +swiftly running waters of Aivai. And ever Iko pointed further and +further up his finger until at last they had reached his claw-like +nail. By three o'clock the middle of the nail was reached. The eyes of +all looked anxiously ahead. At every curve of the river they strained +their sight to see if Iala were in view. How would these savage people +welcome the white men and woman in their snorting great canoe that had +no paddles, nor oars? There came a sharp bend in the river, and then +a long straight reach of water lying between the forest-covered banks. +Suddenly Iko called out, and Tamate and Mr. and Mrs. Abel peered +ahead. + +The great trees of the river nearly met above their heads, and only a +narrow strip of sky could be seen. + +There in the distance were the houses of Iala, close clustered on both +banks of the steaming river. They stood on piles of wood driven into +the mud, like houses on stilts, and their high-pointed bamboo roofs +stood out over the river like gigantic poke-bonnets. + +"Slow," shouted Tamate to the engineer. The _Miro_ slackened speed +till she just stemmed the running current and no more. + +"It will be a bit of a shock to them," said Tamate to his friends, +"to see this launch. We will give them time to get their wits together +again." + +Looking ahead through their glasses, the white men and Mrs. Abel could +see canoes swiftly crossing and re-crossing the river and men rushing +about. + +"Full speed ahead," cried Tamate again, and then after a few +revolutions of the engine, "Go slow. It will never do," he said, "to +drop amongst them while they are in that state. They will settle down +presently." And then, as he looked up at the sky between the waving +branches of the giant trees, "we have got a good two hours' daylight +yet," he said. + +Life and death to Tamate and his friends hung in the balance, for +they were three people unarmed, and here were dark savage warriors in +hundreds. Everything depended on his choosing just the right moment +for going into the midst of these people. So he watched them closely, +knitting his shaggy eyebrows together as he measured their state of +mind by their actions. He was the Scout of Christ in Papua, and he +must be watchful and note all those things that escape most men but +mean so much to trained eyes. Tamate seemed to have a strange gift +that made him able, even where other men could tell nothing, to say +exactly when it was, and when it was not, possible to go among a wild, +untouched tribe. + +Now the bewildered Ialan savages had grown quieter. Tamate called to +the engineer to drive ahead once more. Slowly the launch forged her +way through the running waters and drew nearer and nearer to the +centre of Iala. + +There on either side stood the houses in long rows stretching up the +river, and on the banks hundreds of men stood silent and as still as +trees. Their canoes lay half in and half out of the water ready for +instant launching. In each canoe stood its crew erect and waiting. All +the women and children had been sent away, for these men were out to +fight. They did not know whether this strange house upon the water +with the smoke coming from its chimney was the work of gods or devils. +Still they stood there to face the strange thing and, if need be, to +fight. + +Brown Iko stood in the bows of the _Miro_; near him stood Tamate. Then +the engine stopped and the anchor was dropped overboard. The savages +stood motionless. Not a weapon could be seen. The engineer, hearing +the anchor-chain rattle through the hole, blew the steam-whistle in +simple high spirits. As the shriek of the whistle echoed under +the arches of the trees, with the swiftness of lightning the Ialan +warriors swung their long bows from behind their bodies. Without +stooping each caught up an arrow that stood between his toes and with +one movement fixed it and pulled the bamboo strings of their black +bows till the notch of the arrows touched their ears. A hundred arrows +were aimed at the hearts of Tamate and Mr. and Mrs. Abel. + +Swiftly Iko stood upon the bulwark of the _Miro_, and shouted just one +word at the top of his voice. It was the Ialan word for "Peace." And +again he shouted it, and yet again "Peace, Peace!" + +Then he cried out "Pouta!"[41] It was the name of the chief of these +savages. They had but to let the arrows from their bows and all would +have been over. There was silence. What order would Pouta give? + +Then from the bank on their right came the sound of an answering +voice. In a flash every arrow was taken from its bow, and again not a +weapon was to be seen. + +Iko then called out again to Pouta, and Tamate told Iko what he was to +say to his friend, the savage chief. For some minutes the conversation +went on. At last Iko came to the point of asking for a canoe to take +them ashore. + +Chief Pouta hesitated. Then he gave his command, and a large canoe was +launched from the bank into the river and slowly paddled towards the +_Miro_. + +As the canoe came towards them, Tamate turned to Mrs. Abel, who had +stood there without flinching with all the arrows pointed toward the +boat; and he spoke words like these: "Your bravery is our strength. +Seeing you makes them believe that we come for peace. You give them +greater confidence in us than all our words." + +By this time the canoe had paddled alongside the launch. Tamate went +over the side first into the canoe, then Mrs. Abel, then Mr. Abel, +Iko, and Vaaburi. The canoe pushed off again and paddled toward the +landing place, where a crowd of Ialan savages filled every inch of +space. + +As soon as the bow of the canoe touched the bank, Tamate, without +hesitating a second, stepped out with Iko. Together they walked up to +the chief Pouta, and Tamate put his arms around him in an embrace of +peace. + +Pouta, standing on a high place, shouted to all his warriors. But none +of the white people knew a word of his meaning. + +Look where they would, in every direction, this white woman and the +two men were completely surrounded by an unbroken mass of wild and +armed savages, who stood gazing upon the strange apparitions in their +midst. + +Tamate, without a pause, perfectly calm, and showing no signs of fear, +spoke to Pouta and his men through old Vaaburi and Iko. + +"We have come," he said, "so that we may be friends. We have come +without weapons. We have brought with us a woman of our tribe, for +we come in peace. We are strangers. But we come with great things to +tell. Some day we will come again and will stay with you and will tell +you all our message. To-day we come only to make friends." + +Then Iko closed his eyes and prayed in the language of the people of +Iala. + +Turning to his friends when the prayer was over, Tamate said quietly: +"Now, we must get aboard as quickly as we possibly can. My plan for a +first visit is to come, make friends and get away again swiftly. When +we are gone they will talk to one another about us. Next time we come +we shall meet friends." + +So they walked down through an avenue of armed Papuans to the bank, +and got into the canoe again: the paddles flashed as she drove swiftly +through the water toward the launch. As they climbed her side, the +anchor was weighed, the _Miro_ swung round, her engines started, and, +carried down by the swift stream, she slipped past the packed masses +of silent men who lined the banks. + +It is a great thing to be a pathfinder through a country which no +man has penetrated before. But it is a greater thing to do as these +missionary-scouts did on their journey up the Aivai and find a path +of friendship into savage lives. To do that was the greatest joy in +Tamate's life. For he said, when he had spent many years in this work: + +"Recall the twenty-one years, give me back all its experiences, give +me its shipwrecks, give me its standings in the face of death, give +it me surrounded with savages with spears and clubs, give it me back +again with spears flying about me, with the club knocking me to the +ground, give it me back, and I will still be your missionary." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 35: Pa-poo-[)a].] + +[Footnote 36: A-ee-v[)a]-ee.] + +[Footnote 37: Poo-r[)a]-ree.] + +[Footnote 38: Ee-[)a]-l[)a].] + +[Footnote 39: He had spent some sixteen years in the South Sea Island +of Rarotonga and had in 1877 become a pioneer among the cannibals of +Papua (New Guinea).] + +[Footnote 40: V[=a][=a]-boo-ree.] + +[Footnote 41: Poo-o-t[)a].] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A SOUTH SEA SAMARITAN + +_Ruatoka_ (Date of Incident, about 1878) + + +It was a dark night and silent. The swish and lapping of the waters on +the Port Moresby beach on the southern shore of the immense island of +New Guinea, filled the air with a quiet hush of expectation. + +In a little white house sat a tall, dark man with his wife. The man +was Ruatoka. If you had asked "Who is Ruatoka?" of all the Papuans for +miles around Port Moresby, they would have wondered at your ignorance. +"Ruatoka," they would have told you, was a "Jesus man." He walked +among their villages, and did not fear them when they threatened him +with spears and clubs. He gave them medicines when they were ill, and +nursed them. He spoke strong words to them which made their hearts +turn to water within them when he showed that they did wrong. He often +stopped them from fighting. + +Ruatoka, with his wife, had sailed from the South Sea Islands with +Tamate,[42] who was to them their great hero. + +"My fathers of old were heathen, savage men on the island of Mangaia," +he would say. "The white men came to them and brought the story +of Jesus. Now we are happy. But we, too, must go to the men of New +Guinea, just as the white men came to us. To-day the New Guinea +Papuans are savage cannibals and heathen. To-morrow they will know +Jesus and be as happy as we are." + +So Ruatoka had been trained as a teacher and preacher as well as a +house-builder and carpenter; and his wife was taught how to teach +children as well as good housekeeping. + +This was the brown man, Ruatoka, who sat that night in his little +house at Port Moresby on the shore behind the great reef of Papua. +Suddenly there came a knock at his door. The door opened, and the +black, frightened faces of Papuans, with staring eyes, looked at him. + +"What is the matter?" he asked. + +And they told him that, as they came at sunset along the path from the +people of Larogi to Port Moresby, they found by the side of the path a +white man. "He was dying," they said. "We were afraid to touch him. If +we touched him and he died, his ghost would haunt us for evermore." + +Ruatoka stood up at once and reached for his lantern, and turning to +the men said: + +"Come and guide me to the place." + +They said, "No, we are afraid of the demon spirit. It is night. The +man will die. We are afraid of the spirits. We will not go." + +Ruatoka's father had told him when he was a boy how his own people in +the years before had dreaded the spirit-demons of Mangaia, but that +he must learn that there were no spirits to be dreaded; that one great +Father-Spirit ruled above all, and would take care of His children, +and that all those children must love one another. + +So Rua, as they called him, knowing that the white man who lay sick +by the roadside in the night, though of another colour, was yet a +brother, and knowing that no demon spirit could harm him in the dark, +lighted his lantern, poured water into a bottle, took a long piece of +cloth, folded it up, and started out under the stars. + +He walked for mile after mile up steep hills and down into valleys +along the path; but nothing did he hear save the cry of a night bird. +At last he had gone five miles, and was wondering whether he could +ever find the sick man (for the long grass towered up on either side +and all was still), when he heard a low moaning. Listening intently he +found the direction of the sound, and then moved towards it. He found +there, at the side of the path, a white man named Neville, nearly +dead. He was moaning with the pain of the fever, yet unconscious. + +Taking his bottle, Ruatoka poured a little water down the throat of +the man. He then took the long piece of cloth, wound it round Neville, +took the two ends in his hands, and stooping, he pulled and strained +with all his great strength, until at last Neville lay like a sack +upon his shoulders. Staggering along, Ruatoka climbed the hills that +rose 300 feet high. Again and again he was bound to rest, for the man +on his shoulders was as heavy as Ruatoka himself. He tottered down the +hill path, and at last, just as the first light of dawn was breaking +over the eastern hills, Ruatoka staggered into his home, laid the +sick man upon the only bed he had, and then himself laid down upon the +floor, wearied almost to death. There he slept while his wife nursed +and tended the fever-stricken Neville back to life. + + * * * * * + +Over a thousand years before that day Wilfrid[43] had brought life and +joy to the starving Saxons of the South coast of England. A hundred +years before that day white men, the great-great-grandchildren of +those Saxons, had started out in _The Duff_ and, sailing across the +world, had taken life and joy in the place of the terror of demons and +the death by the club to the men of the Islands of the Seas. + +Now Ruatoka, the South Sea islander, having in his heart the same +brave spirit of the Good Shepherd--that spirit of the Good Samaritan, +of help and preparedness, of courage and of chivalry, had carried life +and joy back to the North Sea islander, the Briton who had fallen by +the roadside in Papua. + +Ruatoka was a brown Greatheart. It was with him as it must be with all +brave sons who serve that great Captain, Jesus Christ: he wanted to be +in the front of the battle. When the great Tamate was killed and eaten +by the cannibals of Goaribari, Ruatoka wrote a letter to a missionary +who lived and still lives in Papua. This is the end of the letter: + +"Hear my wish. It is a great wish. The remainder of my strength I +would spend in the place where Tamate was killed. In that village I +would live. In that place where they killed men, Jesus Christ's name +and His word I would teach to the people that they may become Jesus' +children. My wish is just this. You know it. I have spoken. + + RUATOKA." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 42: James Chalmers: see Chapter XIII.] + +[Footnote 43: See Chapter II.] + + + + +Book Three: THE PATHFINDERS OF AFRICA + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE MAN WHO WOULD GO ON + +_David Livingstone_ + +(Dates born 1813, died 1873) + + +There was a deathly stillness in the hot African air as two bronzed +Scots strode along the narrow forest path. + +The one, a young, keen-eyed doctor,[44] glanced quickly through the +trees and occasionally turned aside to pick some strange orchid and to +slip it into his collecting case. The other strode steadily along +with that curious, "resolute forward tread" of his.[45] He was David +Livingstone. Behind them came a string of African bearers carrying in +bundles on their heads the tents and food of the explorers. + +Suddenly, with a crunch, Livingstone's heel went through a white +object half hidden in the long grass--a thing like an ostrich's egg. +He stooped--and his strong, bronzed face was twisted with mingled +sorrow and anger, as, looking into the face of his younger friend, he +gritted out between his clenched teeth, "The slave-raiders again!" + +It was the whitening skull of an African boy. + +For weeks those two Britons had driven their little steamer (the +_Asthmatic_ they called her, because of her wheezing engines) up the +Zambesi river and were now exploring its tributary the Shire. + +Each morning, before they could start the ship's engines, they had +been obliged to take poles and push from between the paddles of the +wheels the dead bodies of Africans--men, women, and children--slain +bodies which had floated down from the villages that the Arab +slave-raiders had burned and sacked. Livingstone was out on the long, +bloody trail of the slaver, the trail that stretched on and on into +the heart of Africa where no white man had ever been. + +This negro boy's skull, whitening on the path, was only one more +link in the long, sickening shackle-chain of slavery that girdled +down-trodden Africa. + +The two men strode on. The forest path opened out to a broad clearing. +They were in an African village. But no voice was heard and no step +broke the horrible silence. It was a village of death. The sun blazed +on the charred heaps which now marked the sites of happy African +homes; the gardens were desolate and utterly destroyed. The village +was wiped out. Those who had submitted were far away, trudging through +the forest, under the lash of the slaver; those who had been too old +to walk or too brave to be taken without fight were slain. + +The heart of Livingstone burned with one great resolve--he would track +this foul thing into the very heart of Africa and then blazon its +horrors to the whole world. + +The two men trudged back to the river bank again. Now, with their +brown companions, they took the shallow boat that they had brought +on the deck of the _Asthmatic_, and headed still farther up the Shire +river from the Zambesi toward the unknown Highlands of Central Africa. + + +_Facing Spears and Arrows_ + +Only the sing-song chant of the Africans as they swung their paddles, +and the frightened shriek of a glittering parrot, broke the stillness +as the boat pushed northward against the river current. + +The paddles flashed again, and as the boat came round a curve in the +river they were faced by a sight that made every man sit, paddle in +hand, motionless with horror. The bank facing them in the next curve +of the river was black with men. The ranks of savages bristled with +spears and arrows. A chief yelled to them to turn back. Then a cloud +of arrows flew over the boat. + +"Go on," said Livingstone quietly to the Africans. Their paddles took +the water and the boat leapt toward the savage semi-circle on the +bank. The water was shallower now. Before any one realised what was +happening Livingstone had swung over the edge of the boat and, up to +his waist in water, was wading ashore with his arms above his head. + +"It is peace!" he called out, and waded on toward the barbs of a +hundred arrows and spears. The men in the boat sat breathless, waiting +to see their leader fall with a score of spears through his body. +But the savages on the bank were transfixed with amazement at +Livingstone's sheer audacity. Awed by something god-like in this +unflinching and unarmed courage, no finger let fly a single arrow. + +"You think," he called to the chief, "that I am a slave-raider." For +Livingstone knew that he had never in all his wanderings been attacked +by Africans save where they had first been infuriated by the cruel +raiders. + +The chief scowled. + +"See," cried Livingstone, baring his arm to show his white skin as +he again and again had done when threatened by Africans, "is this the +colour of the men who come to make slaves and to kill?" + +The savages gazed with astonishment. They had never before seen so +white a skin. + +"No," Livingstone went on, "this is the skin of the tribe that has +heart toward the African." + +Almost unconsciously the man had dropped the spear points and arrow +heads as he was speaking. The chief listened while Livingstone, who +was now on the bank, told the savages how he had come across the great +waters from a far-off land with a message of peace and goodwill. + +Unarmed and with a dauntless heroism the "white man who would go on" +had won a great victory over that tribe. He now passed on in his boat +up the river and over rapids toward the wonderful shining Highlands in +the heart of Africa. + + +_"Deliverance to the Captives"_ + +Dr. Kirk was recalled to England by the British Government; but +Livingstone trudged on in increasing loneliness over mountains and +across rivers and lakes, plunging through marshes, racked a score of +times with fever, robbed of his medicines, threatened again and again +by the guns of the slave-raiding Arabs and the spears and clubs of +savage head-hunters, bearing on his bent shoulders the Cross of the +negroes' agony--slavery, till at last, alone and on his knees in +the dead of night, our Greatheart crossed his last River, into the +presence of his Father in heaven. + +Yet still, though his body was dead, his spirit would go on. For the +life Livingstone lived, the death he died, and the record he wrote +of the slave-raiders' horrible cruelties thrilled all Britain to heal +that "open sore of the world." Queen Victoria made Dr. Kirk her consul +at Zanzibar, and told him to make the Sultan of Zanzibar order all +slave-trading through that great market to cease. And to-day, because +of David Livingstone, through all the thousands of miles of Africa +over which he trod, no man dare lay the shackles of slavery on +another. To-day, where Livingstone saw the slave-market in Zanzibar, +a grand church stands, built by negro hands, and in that cathedral you +may hear the negro clergy reading such words as-- + + "The voice of one crying in the wilderness, + Prepare ye the way of the Lord, + Make His paths straight," + +and African boys singing in their own tongue words that sum up the +whole life of David Livingstone. + + "He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, + To preach deliverance to the captives." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 44: Dr Kirk, now Sir John Kirk, G.C.M.G., who, leaning upon +his African ebony stick and gazing with his now dimmed eyes into +the glow of the fire, told me many stories of his adventures with +Livingstone on his Zambesi journeyings, including this one. See next +chapter.] + +[Footnote 45: A friend of mine asked a very old African in +Matabeleland whether--as a boy--he remembered Dr. Livingstone. "Oh, +yes," replied the aged Matabele, "he came into our village out of +the bush walking thus," and the old man got up and stumped along, +imitating the determined tread of Livingstone, which, after sixty +years, was the one thing he remembered.] + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE BLACK PRINCE OF AFRICA + +_Khama_ + +(Dates 1850--the present day) + + +One day men came running into a village in South Africa to say that +a strange man, whose body was covered with clothes and whose face +was not black, was walking toward their homes. He was coming from the +South. + +Never before had such a man been seen in their tribe. So there was +great excitement and a mighty chattering went through the round wattle +of mud huts with their circular thatched roofs. + +The African Chief, Sekhome--who was the head of this Bamangwato tribe +and who was also a noted witch-doctor--started out along the southward +trail to meet the white man. By his side ran his eldest son. He was a +lithe, blithe boy; his chocolate coloured skin shone and the muscles +rippled as he trotted along. He was so swift that his name was the +name of the antelope that gallops across the veldt. Cama is what the +Bamangwato call the antelope. Khama is how we spell the boy's name. + +He gazed in wonder as he saw a sturdy man wearing clothes such as he +had not seen before--what we call coat and hat, trousers and boots. +He looked into the bronzed face of the white man and saw that his eyes +and mouth were kind. Together they walked back into the village. Chief +Sekhome found that the white man's name was David Livingstone; and +that he was a kind doctor who could make boys and men better when they +were ill, with medicines out of a black japanned box. + +When evening came the boy Khama saw the strange white man open another +box and take out a curious thing which seemed to open yet was full of +hundreds and hundreds of leaves. Khama had never seen such a thing +in his life and he could not understand why Livingstone opened it +and kept looking at it for a long time, for he had never seen a book +before and did not even know what letters were or what reading was. + +It seemed wonderful to him when he heard that that book could speak +to Livingstone without making any sound and that it told him about +the One Infinite, Holy, Loving God, Who is Father of all men, black or +brown or white, and Whose Son, Jesus Christ, came to teach us all to +love God and to love one another. For the book was the Bible which +Livingstone all through his heroic exploring of Africa read each day. + +So Livingstone passed on from the village; but this boy Khama never +forgot him, and in time--as we shall see--other white men came and +taught Khama himself to read that same book and worship that same God. + + +_The Fight with the Lion_ + +Meanwhile strange adventures came to the growing young Khama. This is +the story of some of them: + +The leaping flames of a hunting camp-fire threw upon the dark +background of thorn trees weird shadows of the men who squatted in a +circle on the ground, talking. + +The men were all Africans, the picked hunters from the tribe of the +Bamangwato. They were out on the spoor of a great lion that had made +himself the terror of the tribe. Night after night the lion had leapt +among their oxen and had slain the choicest in the chief's herds. +Again and again the hunters had gone out on the trail of the ferocious +beast; but always they returned empty-handed, though boasting loudly +of what they would do when they should face the lion. + +"To-morrow, yes, to-morrow," cried a young Bamangwato hunter rolling +his eyes, "I will slay _tau e bogale_--the fierce lion." + +The voices of the men rose on the night air as the whole group +declared that the beast should ravage their herds no more--the whole +group, except one. This young man's tense face and the keen eyes that +glowed in the firelight showed his contempt for those who swaggered so +much and did so little. He was Khama, the son of Sekhome, the chief. +The wild flames gleamed on him as he stood there, full six feet of +tireless manhood leaning on his gun, like a superb statue carved in +ebony. Those swift, spare limbs of his, that could keep pace with a +galloping horse, gave him the right to his name, Khama--the Antelope. + +The voices dropped, and the men, rolling themselves in the skins of +wild beasts, lay down and slept--all except one, whose eyes watched in +the darkness as sleeplessly as the stars. When they were asleep Khama +took up his gun and went out into the starry night. + +The night passed. As the first flush of dawn paled the stars, and +the men around the cold ashes of the fire sat up, they gazed in +awed amazement. For they saw, striding toward them, their tall young +chieftain; and over his shoulders hung the tawny skin and mane of a +full-grown king lion. Alone in the night he had slain the terror of +the tribe! + +The men who had boasted of what they meant to do and had never +performed, never heard Khama--either at that time or later--make any +mention of this great feat. + +It was no wonder that the great Bamangwato tribe looked at the tall, +silent, resolute young chieftain and, comparing him with his crafty +father Sekhome and his treacherous, cowardly younger brother Khamane, +said, "Khama is our _boikanyo_--our confidence." + + +_The Fight with the Witch-doctors_ + +The years went by; and that fierce old villain Sekhome plotted and +laid ambush against the life of his valiant son, Khama. Men who +followed David Livingstone into Africa had come as missionaries to +his tribe and had taught him the story of Jesus and given him the +knowledge of reading and writing. So Khama had become a Christian, +though Sekhome his father was still a heathen witch-doctor. Khama +would have nothing to do with the horrible ceremonies by which the +boys of the tribe were initiated into manhood; nor would he look on +the heathen rain-making incantations, though his father smoked with +anger against him. Under a thousand insults and threats of death Khama +stood silent, never insulting nor answering again, and always treating +with respect his unnatural father. + +"You, as the son of a great chief, must marry other wives," said +old Sekhome, whose wives could not be numbered. Young Khama firmly +refused, for the Word of God which ruled his life told him that he +must have but one wife. Sekhome foamed with futile rage. + +"You must call in the rain-doctors to make rain," said Sekhome, as +the parched earth cracked under the flaming sun. Khama knew that their +wild incantations had no power to make rain, but that God alone ruled +the heavens. So he refused. + +Sekhome now made his last and most fearful attack. He was a +witch-doctor and master of the witch-doctors whose ghoulish +incantations made the Bamangwato tremble in terror of unseen devils. + +One night the persecuted Khama woke at the sound of strange clashing +and chanting. Looking out he saw the fitful flame of a fire. Going out +from his hut, he saw the _lolwapa_ or court in front of it lit up +with weird flames round which the black wizards danced with horns and +lions' teeth clashing about their necks, and with manes of beasts' +hair waving above their horrible faces. As they danced they cast +charms into the fire and chanted loathsome spells and terrible curses +on Khama. As a boy he had been taught that these witch-doctors had the +power to slay or to smite with foul diseases. He would have been more +than human if he had not felt a shiver of nameless dread at this lurid +and horrible dance of death. + +Yet he never hesitated. He strode forward swiftly, anger and contempt +on his face, scattering the witch-doctors from his path and leaping +full upon their fire of charms, stamped it out and scattered its +embers broadcast. The wizards fled into the darkness of the night. + + +_The Fight with the Kaffir Beer_ + +At last Khama's treacherous old father, Sekhome, died. Khama was +acclaimed the supreme chief of all the Bamangwato.[46] He galloped out +at the head of his horsemen to pursue Lobengula, the ferocious chief +of the Matabele who had struck fear into the Bamangwato for many +years. Even Lobengula, who to his dying day carried in his neck a +bullet from Khama's gun, said of him, "The Bamangwato are dogs, but +Khama is a man." + +Khama had now freed his people from the terror of the lion, the +tyranny of witch-doctors, and the dread of the Matabele. Yet the +deadliest enemy of Khama and the most loathsome tyrant of the +Bamangwato was still in power,--the strong drink which degrades the +African to unspeakable depths. + +Even as Khama charged at the head of his men into the breaking ranks +of the Matabele, his younger brother, Khamane, whom he had put in +charge of his city in his absence, said to the people: "You may brew +beer again now." Many of the people did not obey, but others took the +corn of the tribe and brewed beer from it. + +At night the cries of beaten women rose, and the weird chants of +incantations and of foul unclean dances were heard. Khamane called the +older men together around his fire. Pots of beer passed from hand to +hand. As the men grew fuddled they became bolder and more boastful. +Khamane then spoke to them and said, "Why should Khama rule you? +Remember he forbids you to make and to drink beer. He has done away +with the dances of the young men. He will not let you make charms or +throw enchanted dice or make incantations for rain. He is a Christian. +If I ruled you, you should do all these things." + +When Khama rode back again into his town he saw men and women lying +drunk under the eaves of their huts and others reeling along the road. +At night the sounds of chants and drinking dances rose on the air. + +His anger was terrible. For once he lost his temper. He seized a +burning torch and running to the hut of Khamane set fire to the roof +and burned the house down over his drunken brother's head. He ordered +all the beer that had been brewed to be seized, and poured it out +upon the veldt. He knew that he was fighting a fiercer enemy than +the Matabele, a foe that would throttle his tribe and destroy all his +people if he did not conquer it. The old men of the tribe muttered +against him and plotted his death. He met them face to face. His eyes +flashed. + +"When I was still a lad," he said, "I used to think how I would +govern my town and what kind of a kingdom it should be. One thing I +determined, I would not rule over a drunken town or people. I WILL NOT +HAVE DRINK IN THIS TOWN. If you must have it you must go." + + +_The Fight with the White Man's "Fire-water"_ + +Khama had conquered for the moment. But white men, Englishmen, came +to the town. They set up stores. And in the stores they began to sell +brandy from large casks. + +The drinking of spirits has more terrible effects on the African than +even on white men. Once he starts drinking, the African cannot +stop and is turned into a sot. The ships of the white man have been +responsible to a terrible extent for sending out the "fire-water" to +Africa. + +Khama called the white traders in the tribe together. + +"It is my desire," he said, "that no strong drink shall be sold in my +town." + +"We will not bring the great casks of brandy," they replied, "but +we hope you will allow us to have cases of bottles as they are for +medicine." + +"I consent," said Khama, "but there must be no drunkenness." + +"Certainly," the white men replied, "there shall be no drunkenness." + +In a few days one of the white traders had locked himself into his +house in drunken delirium, naked and raving. Morning after morning +Khama rose before daybreak to try and get to the man when he was +sober, but all the time he was drunk. Then one morning this man +gathered other white men together in a house and they sat drinking and +then started fighting one another. + +A boy ran to Khama to tell him. The chief went to the house and strode +in. The room was a wreck. The men lay senseless with their white +shirts stained with blood. + +Khama with set, stern face turned and walked to the house where he +often went for counsel, the home of his friend, Mr. Hepburn, the +missionary. Mr. Hepburn lay ill with fever. Khama told him what the +white men had done. Hepburn burned with shame and anger that his own +fellow-countrymen should so disgrace themselves. Ill as he was he rose +and went out with the chief and saw with his own eyes that it was as +Khama said. + +"I will clear them all out of my town," cried the chief. + +It was Saturday night. + + +_Khama's Decisive Hour_ + +On the Monday morning Khama sent word to all the white men to come +to him. It was a cold, dreary day. The chief sat waiting in the +_Kgotla_[47] while the white men came together before him. Hepburn, +the missionary, sat by his side. Those who knew Khama saw as soon as +they looked into his grim face that no will on earth could turn him +from his decisions that day. + +"You white men,"[48] he said to them sternly, "have insulted and +despised me in my own town because I am a black man. If you despise us +black men, what do you want here in the country that God has given to +us? Go back to your own country." + +His voice became hard with a tragic sternness. + +"I am trying," he went on, "to lead my people to act according to +the word of God which we have received from you white people, and yet +_you_ show them an example of wickedness such as we never knew. You," +and his voice rose in burning scorn, "you, the people of the word +of God! You know that some of my own brothers"--he was referring to +Khamane especially--"have learned to like the drink, and you know that +I do not want them to see it even, that they may forget the habit. Yet +you not only bring it in and offer it to them, but you try to tempt +_me_ with it. + +"I make an end of it to-day. Go! Take your cattle and leave my town +and _never come back again_!" + +No man moved or spoke. They were utterly shamed and bewildered. Then +one white man, who had lived in the town since he was a lad, pleaded +with Khama for pity as an old friend. + +"You," said the chief with biting irony, "my friend? You--the +ringleader of those who despise my laws. You are my worst enemy. You +pray for pity? No! for you I have no pity. It is my duty to have pity +on my people over whom God placed me, and I am going to show them pity +to-day; and that is my duty to them and to God.... Go!" + +And they all went. + +Then the chief ordered in his young warriors and huntsmen. + +"No one of you," he said, "is to drink beer." Then he called a great +meeting of the whole town. In serried masses thousand upon thousand +the Bamangwato faced their great chief. He lifted up his voice: + +"I, Khama, your chief, order that you shall not make beer. You take +the corn that God has given to us in answer to our prayers and you +destroy it. Nay, you not only destroy it, but you make stuff with it +that causes mischief among you." + +There was some murmuring. + +His eyes flashed like steel. + +"You can kill me," he said, "but you cannot conquer me." + + * * * * * + + +_The Black Prince of Eighty_ + +If you rode as a guest toward Khama's town over seventy years after +those far-off days when Livingstone first went there, as you came in +sight of the great stone church that the chief has built, you would +see tearing across the African plain a whirlwind of dust. It would +race toward you, with the soft thunder of hoofs in the loose soil. +When the horses were almost upon you--with a hand of steel--chief +Khama would rein in his charger and his bodyguard would pull up behind +him. + +Over eighty years old, grey and wrinkled, he would spring from his +horse, without help, to greet you--still Khama, the Antelope. Old +as he is, he is as alert as ever. He heard that a great all Africa +aeroplane route was planned after the Great War. At once he offered +to make a great aerodrome, and the day at last came when +Khama--eighty-five years old--who had seen Livingstone, the first +white man to visit his tribe--stood watching the first aeroplane come +bringing a young officer from the clouds. + +He stands there, the splendid chief of the Bamangwato--"steel-true, +blade-straight." He is the Black Prince of Africa--who has indeed won +his spurs against the enemies of his people. + +And if you were to ask him the secret of the power by which he has +done these things, Khama the silent, who is not used to boasting, +would no doubt lead you at dawn to the _Kgotla_ before his huts. There +at every sunrise he gathers his people together for their morning +prayers at the feet of the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the +Captain and King of our Great Crusade for the saving of Africa. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 46: In 1875.] + +[Footnote 47: The chiefs open-air enclosure for official meetings.] + +[Footnote 48: These are Khama's own words taken down at the time by +Hepburn.] + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE KNIGHT OF THE SLAVE GIRLS + +_George Grenfell_ + +(Dates, b. 1849, d. 1906) + + +_The Building of the Steamship_ + +When David Livingstone lay dying in his hastily-built hut, in the +heart of Africa, with his black companions Susi and Chumah attending +him, almost his last words were, "How far away is the Luapula?" + +He knew that the river to which the Africans gave that name was only +a short distance away and that it flowed northward. He thought that it +might be the upper reaches of the Nile, which had been sought by men +through thousands of years, but which none had ever explored. + +Livingstone died in that hut (1873) and never knew what Stanley, +following in his footsteps, discovered later (1876-7), viz., that the +Luapula was really the upper stretch of the Congo, the second largest +river in the world (3000 miles long), flowing into the Atlantic. The +basin of the Congo would cover the whole of Europe from the Black Sea +to the English Channel. + +In the year when Livingstone died, and before Stanley started to +explore the Congo, a young man, who had been thrilled by reading the +travels of Livingstone, sailed to the West Coast of Africa to the +Kameruns. + +His name was George Grenfell, a Cornish boy (born at Sancreed, four +miles from Penzance, in England), who was brought up in Birmingham. +He was apprenticed at fifteen to a firm of hardware and machinery +dealers. Here he picked up, as a lad, some knowledge of machinery that +helped him later on the Congo. He had been thrilled to meet at Bristol +College, where he was trained for his missionary work, a thin, worn, +heroic man of tried steel, Alfred Saker, the great Kamerun missionary, +and Grenfell leapt for joy to go out to the dangerous West Coast of +Africa, where he worked hard, teaching the Africans to make tables and +bricks and to print and read, healing them and preaching to them. + +When Stanley came down the Congo to the sea and electrified the world +by the story of the great river, Grenfell and the Baptist Missionary +Society which he served conceived the daring and splendid plan of +starting a chain of mission stations right from the mouth of the +Congo eastward across Africa. In 1878 Grenfell was on his way up the +river--travelling along narrow paths flanked by grass often fifteen +feet high, and crossing swamps and rivers, till after thirteen +attempts and in eighteen months he reached Stanley Pool, February +1881. A thousand miles of river lay between Stanley Pool and Stanley +Falls, and even above Stanley Falls lay thirteen hundred miles of +navigable river. Canoes were perilous. Hippopotami upset them, and men +were dragged down and eaten by crocodiles. They must have a steamer +right up there beyond the Falls in the very heart of Africa. + +Grenfell went home to England, and the steamer _Peace_ was built on +the Thames, Grenfell watching everything being made from the crank +to the funnel. She was built, launched, and tried on the Thames; then +taken to pieces and packed in 800 packages, weighing 65 lbs. each, +and taken to the mouth of the Congo. On the heads and shoulders of +a thousand men the whole ship and the food of the party were carried +past the rapids, over a thousand miles along narrow paths, in peril of +snakes and leopards and enemy savages, over streams crossed by bridges +of vine-creepers, through swamps, across ravines. + +Grenfell's engineer, who was to have put the ship together, died. At +last they reached Stanley Pool. Grenfell with eight negroes started +to try to build the ship. It was a tremendous task. Grenfell said +the _Peace_ was "prayed together." It was prayer and hard work and +gumption. At last the ship was launched, steam was up, the _Peace_ +began to move. "She lives, master, she lives!" shouted the excited +Africans. + +A thousand thrilling adventures came to him as he steamed up and +down the river, teaching and preaching, often in the face of +poisoned arrows and spears. We are now going to hear the story of one +adventure. + +_The Steamer's Journey_ + +The crocodiles drowsily dosing in the slime of the Congo river bank +stirred uneasily as a strange sound broke the silence of the blazing +African morning. They lifted their heavy jaws and swung their heads +down stream. Their beady eyes caught sight of a Thing mightier than a +thousand crocodiles. It was pushing its way slowly up stream. + +The sound was the throb of the screw of the steamer from whose funnel +a light ribbon of smoke floated across the river. An awning shaded the +whole deck from bow to stern. On the top of the awning, under a little +square canopy, stood a tall young negro; the muscles in his sturdy +arms and his broad shoulders rippled under his dark skin as the wheel +swung round in his swift, strong hands. + +The steamer drove up stream while the crocodiles, startled by the wash +of the boat, slid sullenly down the bank and dived. + +A short, bearded man, dressed in white duck, stood on deck at the +bows, where the steamer's name, _Peace_, was painted. He was George +Grenfell. His keen eyes gleamed through the spectacles that rested on +his strong, arched nose. By his side stood his wife, looking out up +the river. They were searching for the landing-place and the hut-roofs +of some friendly river-side town. + +At last as the bows swung round the next bend in the river they saw +a village. The Africans rushed to the bank and hurriedly pushed out +their tree-trunk canoes. Grenfell shouted an order. A bell rang. The +screw stopped and the steamer lay-to while he climbed down into the +ship's canoe and was paddled ashore. The wondering people pushed and +jostled around them to see this strange man with his white face. + + +_The Slave Girls_ + +As they walked up among the huts, speaking with the men of the town, +Grenfell came to an open space. As his quick eyes looked about he saw +two little girls standing bound with cords. They were tethered +like goats to a stake. Their little faces and round eyes looked all +forlorn. Even the wonder of the strange bearded white man hardly kept +back the tears that filled their eyes. + +"What are these?" he asked, turning to the chief. + +The African pointed up the river. Grenfell's heart burned in him, +as the chief told how he and his men had swept up the river in their +canoes armed with their spears and bows and arrows and had raided +another tribe. + +"And these," said the chief, pointing to the girls, who began +to wonder what was going to happen, "these are two girls that we +captured. They are some of our booty. They are slaves. They are tied +there till someone will come and buy them." + +Grenfell could not resist the silent call of their woeful faces. +Quickly he gave beads and cloth to the chief, and took the little +girls back with him down to the river bank. As they jumped into the +canoe to go aboard the S.S. _Peace_, the two girls wondered what this +strange new master would do with them. Would he be cruel? Yet his eyes +looked kind through those funny, round, shining things balanced on his +nose. + +The girls at once forgot all their sorrows when they jumped on board +this wonderful river monster. They felt it shiver and throb and begin +to move. The bank went farther and farther away. The _Peace_ had again +started up stream. + +The girls stood in wonder and gazed with open eyes as the banks slid +past. They saw the birds all green and red flashing along the surface +of the water, and the huge hippopotami sullenly plunging into the +river like the floating islands of earth that sail down the Congo. +Their quick eyes noted the quaint iguana, like giant lizards, sunning +themselves on the branches of the trees over the stream and then +dropping like stones into the stream as the steamer passed. + + +_The Slave Girl's Brother_ + +Then, suddenly, as they came round a bend in the river, all was +changed. There ahead Grenfell saw a river town. The canoes were being +manned rapidly by warriors. The bank bristled with spears in the hands +of ferocious savages, whose faces were made horrible by gashes and +loathsome tattooing. In each canoe men stood with bows in their hands +and arrows drawn to the head. The throb of the engines ceased. The +ship slowed up. But the canoes came on. + +The men of this Congo town only knew one thing. Enemies had, only a +few weeks earlier, come from down-river, had raided their town, +burned their huts, killed many of their braves, and carried away their +children. Here were men who had also come from down the river. They +must, therefore, be enemies. + +Their chief shouted an order. In an instant a score of spears hurtled +at the ship and rattled on the steel screens around the deck. The yell +of the battle-cry of the tribe echoed and re-echoed down the river. + +Grenfell was standing by the little girls. Suddenly one of them with +dancing eyes shouted and waved her arms. + +"What is it?" cried Grenfell to her. + +"See--see!" she cried, pointing to a warrior in a canoe who was just +poising a spear, "that is my brother! That is my brother! This is my +town!" + +"Call to him," said Grenfell. + +Her thin childish voice rang out. But no one heard it among the +warriors. Again she cried out to her brother. The only answer was a +hail of spears and arrows. + +Grenfell turned rapidly and shouted an order to the engineer. +Instantly a shriek, more wild and piercing than the combined yells +of the whole tribe, rent the air. Again the shriek went up. The +warriors stood transfixed with spear and arrow in hand like statues +in ebony. There was a moment's intense and awful silence. They had +never before heard the whistle of a steamer! + +"Shout again--quickly," whispered Grenfell to the little African +girl. + +In a second the child's shrill voice rang out in the silence across +the water, crying first her brother's name, and then her own. + +The astonished warrior dropped his spear, caught up his paddle +and--in a few swift strokes--drove his canoe towards the steamer. His +astonishment at seeing his sister aboard overcame all his dread of +this shrieking, floating island that moved without sails or paddles. + +Quickly she told her story of how the strange white man in the great +canoe that smoked had found her in the village of their enemies, had +saved her from slavery, and--now, had brought her safely home again. +The story passed from lip to lip. Every spear and bow and arrow was +dropped. + +The girls were quickly put ashore, and as Grenfell walked up the +village street every warrior who had but a few moments before been +seeking his blood was now gazing at this strange friend who had +brought back to the tribe the daughters whom they thought they had +lost for ever. + + Grenfell went on with his work in face of fever, inter-tribal + fighting, slave-raiders, the horrors of wife and slave-slaughter + at funerals, witch-killing--and in some ways worse still, the + horrible cruelties of the Belgian rubber-traders--for over a + quarter of a century. + + In June 1906, accompanied by his negro companions, he lay at + Yalemba, sick with fever. Two of the Africans wrote a letter for + help to other missionaries: + + "We are very sorrow," they wrote, "because out Master is very + sick. So now we beging you one of you let him come to help Mr + Grenfell please. We think now is near to die, but we don't know + how to do with him. Yours, + + DISASI MAKULO, + MASCOO LUVUSU." + + To-day all up the fifteen hundred miles of Congo waterway the + power of the work done by Grenfell and the men who came with him + and after him has changed all the life. Gone are the slave-raiders, + the inter-tribal wars, the cruelties of the white men, along that + line. There stand instead negroes who cap make bricks, build + houses, turn a lathe; engineers, printers, bookbinders, + blacksmiths, carpenters, worshipping in churches built with their + own hands. But beyond, and among the myriad tributaries and the + vast forests millions of men have never yet even heard of the love + of God in Jesus Christ, and still work their hideous cruelties. + + So Grenfell, like Livingstone, opened a door. It stands open. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +"A MAN WHO CAN TURN HIS HAND TO ANYTHING" + +_Alexander Mackay_ + +(Dates 1863-1876) + + +The inquisitive village folk stared over their garden gates at Mr. +Mackay, the minister of the Free Kirk of Rhynie, a small Aberdeenshire +village, as he stood with his thirteen-year-old boy gazing into the +road at their feet. The father was apparently scratching at the stones +and dust with his stick. The villagers shook their heads. + +"Fat's the minister glowerin' at, wi' his loon Alic, among the stoor +o' the turnpike?"[49] asked the villagers of one another. + +The minister certainly was powerful in the pulpit, but his ways were +more than they could understand. He was for ever hammering at the +rocks on the moor and lugging ugly lumps of useless stone homeward, +containing "fossils" as he called them. + +Now Mr. Mackay was standing looking as though he were trying to find +something that he had lost in the road. If they had been near enough +to Alec and his father they would have heard words like these: + +"You see, Alec, this is the Zambesi River running down from the heart +of Africa into the Indian Ocean, and here running into the Zambesi +from the north is a tributary, the Shire. Livingstone going up that +river found wild savages who ..." + +So the father was tracing in the dust of the road with the point +of his stick the course of the Zambesi which Livingstone had just +explored for the first time. + +On these walks with his father Alec, with his blue eyes wide open, +used to listen to stories like the Yarn we have read of the marvellous +adventures of Livingstone.[50] Sometimes Mr. Mackay would stop and +draw triangles and circles with his stick. Then Alec would be learning +a problem in Euclid on this strange "blackboard" of the road. He +learned the Euclid--but he preferred the Zambesi and Livingstone! + +One day Alec was off by himself trudging down the road with a fixed +purpose in his mind, a purpose that seemed to have nothing in the +world to do with either Africa or Euclid. He marched away from his +little village of Rhynie, where the burn runs around the foot of +the great granite mountain across the strath. He trudged on for four +miles. Then he heard a shrill whistle. Would he be late after all? +He ran swiftly toward the little railway station. A ribbon of smoke +showed over the cutting, away to the right. Alec entered the station +and ran to one end of the platform as the train slowed down and the +engine stopped just opposite where he stood. + +He gazed at the driver and his mate on the footplate. He followed +every movement as the driver came round the engine with his long-nosed +oil-can, and opened and shut small brass lids and felt the bearings +with his hand to see whether they were hot. The guard waved his green +flag. The whistle of the engine shrieked, and the train steamed out of +the station along the burnside toward Huntly. Alec gazed down the line +till the train was out of sight and then, turning, left the station +and trudged homeward. When he reached Rhynie he had walked eight miles +to look at a railway engine for two and a half minutes--and he was +happy! + +As he went along the village street he heard a familiar sound. + +"Clang-a-clang clang!--ssssssss!" It was irresistible. He stopped, +and stepped into the magic cavern of darkness, gleaming with the +forge-fire, where George Lobban, the smith, having hammered a glowing +horseshoe into shape, gripped it with his pincers and flung it hissing +into the water. + +Having cracked a joke with the laughing smith, Alec dragged himself +away from the smithy, past the green, and looked in at the stable to +curry-comb the pony and enjoy feeling the little beast's muzzle nosing +in his hand for oats. + +He let himself into the manse and ran up to his work-room, where +he began to print off some pages that he had set up on his little +printing press. + +At supper his mother looked sadly at her boy with his dancing eyes as +he told her about the wonders of the railway engine. In her heart she +wanted him to be a minister. And she did not see any sign that this +boy would ever become one: this lad of hers who was always running off +from his books to peer into the furnaces of the gas works, or to tease +the village carpenter into letting him plane a board, or to sit, with +chin in hands and elbows on knees, watching the saddler cutting +and padding and stitching his leather, or to creep into the +carding-mill--like the Budge and Toddy whose lives he had read--"to +see weels go wound." + +It was a bitter cold night in the Christmas vacation fourteen years +later.[51] Alec Mackay, now a young engineering student, was lost to +all sense of time as he read of the hairbreadth escapes and adventures +told by the African explorer, Stanley, in his book, _How I found +Livingstone_. + +He read these words of Stanley's: + + "For four months and four days I lived with Livingstone in the + same house, or in the same boat, or in the same tent, and I never + found a fault in him.... Each day's life with him added to my + admiration for him. His gentleness never forsakes him: his + hopefulness never deserts him. His is the Spartan heroism, the + inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the + Anglo-Saxon. The man has conquered me." + +Alexander Mackay put down Stanley's book and gazed into the fire. +Since the days when he had trudged as a boy down to the station to see +the railway engine he had been a schoolboy in the Grammar School at +Aberdeen, and a student in Edinburgh, and while there had worked in +the great shipbuilding yards at Leith amid the clang and roar of the +rivetters and the engine shop. He was now studying in Berlin, drawing +the designs of great engines far more wonderful than the railway +engine he had almost worshipped as a boy. + +On the desk at Mackay's side lay his diary in which he wrote his +thoughts. In that diary were the words that he himself had written: + + "This day last year[52] Livingstone died--a Scotsman and a + Christian--loving God and his neighbour, in the heart of Africa. + 'Go thou and do likewise.'" + +Mackay wondered. Could it ever be that he would go into the heart of +Africa like Livingstone? it seemed impossible. What was the good of an +engineer among the lakes and forests of Central Africa? + +On the table by the side of Stanley's _How I found Livingstone_ lay a +newspaper, the Edinburgh _Daily Review_. Mackay glanced at it; then he +snatched it up and read eagerly a letter which appeared there. It was +a new call to Central Africa--the call, through Stanley, from King +M'tesa of Uganda, that home of massacre and torture. These are some of +the words that Stanley wrote: + + "King M'tesa of Uganda has been asking me about the white man's + God.... Oh that some practical missionary would come here. M'tesa + would give him anything that he desired--houses, land, cattle, + ivory. It is the practical Christian who can ... cure their + diseases, build dwellings, teach farming and turn his hand to + anything like a sailor--this is the man who is wanted. Such a one, + if he can be found, would become the saviour of Africa." + +Stanley called for "a practical man who could turn his hand to +anything--_if he can be found_." + +The words burned their way into Mackay's very soul. + +"If he can be found." Why here, here in this very room he sits--the +boy who has worked in the village at the carpenter's bench and the +saddler's table, in the smithy and the mill, when his mother wished +him to be at his books; the lad who has watched the ships building in +the docks of Aberdeen, and has himself with hammer and file and lathe +built and made machines in the engineering works--he is here--the "man +who can turn his hand to anything." And he had, we remember, already +written in his diary: + + "Livingstone died--a Scotsman and a Christian--loving God and his + neighbour, in the heart of Africa. 'Go thou and do likewise.'" + +Mackay did not hesitate. Then and there he took pen and ink and +paper and wrote to London to the Church Missionary Society which was +offering, in the daily paper that lay before him, to send men out to +King M'tesa. The words that Mackay wrote were these: + + "My heart burns for the deliverance of Africa, and if you can + send me to any one of those regions which Livingstone and Stanley + have found to be groaning under the curse of the slave-hunter I + shall be very glad." + +Within four months Mackay, with some other young missionaries who had +volunteered for the same great work, was standing on the deck of the +S.S. _Peshawur_ as she steamed out from Southampton for Zanzibar. + +He was in the footsteps of Livingstone--"a Scotsman and a +Christian"--making for the heart of Africa and "ready to turn his hand +to anything" for the sake of Him who as + + "... the Carpenter of Nazareth + Made common things for God." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 49: "What is the minister gazing at, with his son Alec, in +the dust of the road?"] + +[Footnote 50: See Chapter XV.] + +[Footnote 51: December 12, 1875.] + +[Footnote 52: May 1, 1873.] + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ROADMAKER + +_Alexander Mackay_ + +(Date, 1878) + + +After many months of delay at Zanzibar, Mackay with his companions +and bearers started on his tramp of hundreds of miles along narrow +footpaths, often through swamps, delayed by fierce greedy chiefs who +demanded many cloths before they would let the travellers pass. One +of the little band of missionaries had already died of fever. When +hundreds of miles from the coast, Mackay was stricken with fever +and nearly died. His companions sent him back to the coast again to +recover, and they themselves went on and put together the _Daisy_, the +boat which the bearers had carried in sections on their heads, on the +shore of Victoria Nyanza. So Mackay, racked with fever, was carried +back by his Africans over the weary miles through swamp and forest to +the coast. At last he was well again, and with infinite labour he cut +a great wagon road for 230 miles to Mpapwa. With pick and shovel, axe +and saw, they cleared the road of trees for a hundred days. + +Mackay wrote home as he sat at night tired by the side of his +half-made road, "This will certainly yet be a highway for the King +Himself; and all that pass this way will come to know His Name." + +At length, after triumphing by sheer skill and will over a thousand +difficulties, Mackay reached the southern shore of Victoria Nyanza at +Kagei, to find that his surviving companions had gone on to Uganda in +an Arab sailing-dhow, leaving on the shore the _Daisy_, which had been +too small to carry them. + +On the beach by the side of that great inland sea, Victoria Nyanza, in +the heart of Africa, Mackay found the now broken and leaking _Daisy_. +Her cedar planks were twisted and had warped in the blazing sun till +every seam gaped. A hippopotamus had crunched her bow between his +terrible jaws. Many of her timbers had crumbled before the still +greater foe of the African boat-builder--the white ant. + +Now, under her shadow lay the man "who could turn his hand to +anything," on his back with hammer and chisel in hand. He was +rivetting a plate of copper on the hull of the _Daisy_. Already he had +nailed sheets of zinc and lead on stern and bow, and had driven cotton +wool picked from the bushes by the lake into the seams to caulk some +of the leaks. Around the boat stood crowds of Africans, their dark +faces full of astonishment at the white man mending his big canoe. + +"Why should a man toil so terribly hard?" they wondered. + +The tribesmen of the lake had only canoes hollowed out from a +tree-trunk, or made of some planks sewn together with fibres from the +banana tree. + +At last Mackay had his boat ready to sail up the Victoria Nyanza. +The whole of the length of that great sea, itself larger than his own +native Scotland, still separated Mackay from the land of Uganda for +which he had left Britain over fifteen months earlier. + +All through his disappointments and difficulties Mackay fought on. +With him, as with Livingstone, nothing had power to break his spirit +or quench his burning determination to carry on his God-given plan to +serve Africa. + +Every use of saw and hammer and chisel, every + + "trick of the tool's true trade," + +all the training in the shipbuilding yards and engineering shops at +Edinburgh and in Germany helped Mackay to invent some new, daring and +ingenious way out of every fresh difficulty. + + +_The Wreck of the "Daisy"_ + +Now at last the _Daisy_ was on the water again; and Mackay and his +bearers went aboard[53] and hoisting sail from Kagei ran northward. +Before they had gone far black storm clouds swept across the sky. +Night fell. Lightning blazed unceasingly and flung up into silhouette +the wild outlines of the mountains to the east. The roar of the +thunder echoed above the wail of the wind and the threshing of the +waves. + +All through the dark, Mackay and those of his men who could handle an +oar rowed unceasingly. Again and again he threw out his twenty-fathom +line, but in vain. He made out a dim line of precipitous cliffs, yet +the water seemed fathomless--the only map in existence was a rough +one that Stanley had made. At last the lead touched bottom at fourteen +fathoms. In the dim light of dawn they rowed and sailed toward a shady +beach before the cliffs, and anchored in three and a half fathoms of +water. + +The storm passed; but the waves from the open sea came roaring in and +broke over the _Daisy_. The bowsprit dipped under the anchor chain, +and the whole bulwark on the weatherside was carried away. The next +sea swept into the open and now sinking boat. By frantic efforts they +heaved up the anchor and the next wave swung the _Daisy_ with a crash +onto the beach, where the waves pounded her to a complete wreck, +wrenching the planks from the keel. But Mackay and his men managed to +rescue her cargo before she went to pieces. + +They were wrecked on a shore where Stanley, the great explorer, had +years before had a hairbreadth escape from massacre at the hands +of the wild savages. But Stanley, living up to the practice he had +learned from Livingstone, had turned enemies into friends, and now the +natives made no attack on the shipwrecked Mackay. + +For eight weeks Mackay laboured there, hard on the edge of the lake, +living on the beach in a tent made of spars and sails. With hammer and +chisel and saw he worked unsparingly at his task. He cut the middle +eight feet from the boat, and bringing her stern and stem together +patched the broken ends with wood from the middle part. After two +months' work the now dumpier _Daisy_ took the water again, and carried +Mackay and his men safely up the long shores of Victoria Nyanza to the +goal of all his travelling, the capital of M'tesa, King of Uganda. + +The rolling tattoo of goat-skin drums filled the royal reception-hall +of King M'tesa, as the great tyrant entered with his chiefs. M'tesa, +his dark, cruel heavy face in vivid contrast with his spotless white +robe, sat heavily down on his stool of State, while brazen trumpets +sent to him from England blared as Mackay entered. The chiefs squatted +on low stools and on the rush-strewn mud-floor before the King. At his +side stood his Prime Minister, the Katikiro, a smaller man than the +King, but swifter and more far-sighted. The Katikiro was dressed in a +snowy-white Arab gown covered by a black mantle trimmed with gold. In +his hard, guilty face treacherous cunning and masterful cruelty were +blended. + +M'tesa was gracious to Mackay, and gave him land on which to build +his home. More important to Mackay than even his hut was his workshop, +where he quickly fixed his forge and anvil, vise and lathe, and +grindstone, for he was now in the place where he could practise his +skill. It was for this that he had left home and friends, and pressed +on in spite of fever and shipwreck to serve Africa and lead her to the +worship of Jesus Christ by working and teaching as our Lord did when +on earth. + +One day the wide thatched roof of that workshop shaded from the +flaming rays of the sun a crowded circle of the chiefs of Uganda with +their slaves, who loved to come to "hear the bellows roar." They were +gazing at Mackay, whose strong, bare right arm was swinging his hammer + + "Clang-a-clang-clang." + +Then a ruddy glow lit up the dark faces of the watchers and the +bronzed face of the white man who in the centre of his workshop was +blowing up his forge fire. Gripping in his pincers the iron hoe that +was now red-hot, Mackay hammered it into shape and then plunged it all +hissing into the bath of water that stood by him. + +Hardly had the cloud of steam risen from the bath, when Mackay once +more gripped the hoe, and moving to his grindstone placed his foot on +the pedal and set the edge of the hoe against the whirling stone. +The sparks flew high. A murmur came from the Uganda chiefs who stood +around. + +"It is witchcraft," they said to one another. "It is witchcraft by +which Mazunga-wa-Kazi makes the hard iron tenfold harder in the water. +It is witchcraft by which he sends the wheels round and makes our hoes +sharp. Surely he is the great wizard." + +Mackay caught the sound of the new name that they had given +him--Mazunga-wa-Kazi--the White-Man-at-Work. They called him by this +name because to them it was very strange that any man should work with +his own hands. + +"Women are for work," said the chiefs. "Men go to talk with the King, +and to fight and eat." + +Mackay paused in his work and turned on them. + +"No," he said, "you are wrong. God made man with one stomach and with +two hands in order that he may work twice as much as he eats." And +Mackay held out before them his own hands blackened with the work of +the smithy, rough with the handling of hammer and saw, the file and +lathe. "But you," and he turned on them with a laugh and pointed to +their sleek bodies as they shone in the glow of the forge fire, "you +are all stomach and no hands." + +They grinned sheepishly at one another under this attack, and, as +Mackay let down the fire and put away his tools, they strolled off to +the hill on which the King's beehive-shaped thatched palace was built. + +Mackay climbed up the hill on the side of which his workshop stood. +From the ridge he gazed over the low-lying marsh from which the women +were bearing on their heads the water-pots. He knew that the men +and women of the land were suffering from fearful illnesses. He now +realised that the fevers came from the poisonous waters of the marsh. +He made up his mind how he could help them with his skill. They must +have pure water; yet they knew nothing of wells. + +Mackay at once searched the hill-side with his spade and found a bed +of clay emerging from the side of the hill. He climbed sixteen feet +higher up the hill and, bringing the men who could help him together, +began digging. He knew that he would reach spring water at the level +of the clay, for the rains that had filtered through the earth would +stop there. + +The Baganda[54] thought that he was mad. "Whoever," they asked one +another, "heard of digging in the top of a hill for water?" + +"When the hole is so deep," said Mackay, measuring out sixteen feet, +"water will come, pure and clean, and you will not need to carry it up +the hill from the marsh." + +They dug and dug till the hole was too deep to hurl the earth up over +the edge. Then Mackay made a pulley, which seemed a magic thing to +them, for they could not yet understand the working of wheels; and +with rope and bucket the earth was pulled up. Exactly at the depth of +sixteen feet the water welled in. The Baganda clapped their hands and +danced with delight. + +"Mackay is the great wizard. He is the mighty spirit," they cried. +"The King must come to see this." + +King M'tesa himself wondered at the story of the making of the well +and the finding of the water. He gave orders that he was to be carried +to view this great wonder. His eyes rolled with astonishment as he saw +it and heard of the wonders that were wrought by the work of men. + +Yet M'tesa and his men still wondered why any man should work +hard. Mackay tried to explain this to the King when he sat in his +reception-hall. Work, Mackay told M'tesa, is the noblest thing a +man can do, and he told him how Jesus Christ, the Son of the Great +Father-Spirit who made all things, did not Himself feel that work +was a thing too mean for Him. For our Lord, when He lived on earth at +Nazareth, worked with His own hands at the carpenter's bench, and made +all labour forever noble. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 53: August 23, 1878.] + +[Footnote 54: The people of Uganda.] + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +FIGHTING THE SLAVE TRADE + +_Alexander Mackay_ + +(Date, 1878) + + +In the court of King M'tesa, Mackay always saw many boys who used to +drive away the flies from the King's face with fans, carry stools +for the chiefs and visitors to squat upon, run messages and make +themselves generally useful. Most of these boys were the sons of +chiefs. When they were not occupied with some errand, they would +lounge about playing games with one another in the open space just by +the King's hut. + +Often when Mackay came to speak with the King, he had to wait in this +place before he could have audience of M'tesa. He would bring with +him large sheets of paper on which he had printed in his workshop the +alphabet and some sentences. The printing was actually done with the +little hand-press that Mackay had used in his attic when he was a boy +in his old home in Rhynie. He had taken it with him all the way to +Uganda, and now was setting up letters and sentences in a language +which had never been printed before. + +The Baganda boys who had gathered round the White-Man-of-Work with +wondering eyes, as he with his "magic" printed the sheets of paper, +now crowded about him as he unrolled one of these white sheets with +the curious black smudges on them. Mackay made the noise that we call +A and then B, and pointed to these curious-shaped objects which we +call the letters of the alphabet. Then he got them to make the noise +and point to the letter that represented that sound. At last the +keenest of the boys really could repeat the alphabet right through and +begin to read whole words from another sheet--Baganda words--so that +at length they could read whole sentences. + +Two of these pioneer boys became very good scholars. One named Mukasa +became a Christian and was baptised with the name Samweli (Samuel); +another called Kakumba was baptised Yusufu (Joseph). A third boy had +been captured from a tribe in the north, and his skin was of a much +lighter brown than that of the Baganda boys. This light-skinned +captured slave was named Lugalama. + +Each of these boys felt that it was a very proud day when at last he +could actually read a whole sheet of printing from beginning to end +in his own language--from "Our Father" down to "the Kingdom, the power +and the glory, Amen." + +One morning these page-boys leapt to their feet as they heard the +familiar rattle of the drums that heralded the coming of King M'tesa. +They bowed as he entered the hall and sat heavily on his stool, while +his chiefs ranged themselves about him. + +On a stool near the King sat Mackay, the White-Man-of-Work. His +bronzed face was set in grim determination, for he knew that on that +morning he had a difficult battle to fight. + +Another loud battering of drum-heads filled the air. The entrance to +the hut was darkened by a tall, swarthy Arab in long, flowing robes, +followed by negro-bearers, who cast on the ground bales of cloth and +guns. The Arab wore on his head a red fez, round which a coloured +turban scarf was wound. He was a slave-trader from the coast, who +had come from the East to M'tesa in Uganda to buy men and women and +children to carry them away into slavery. + +King M'tesa was himself not only a slave-trader but a slave-raider. +He sent his fierce gangs of warriors out to raid a tribe away in the +hills to the north. They would dash into a village, slay the men, +and drag the boys and girls and women back to M'tesa as slaves. The +bronze-skinned boy, Lugalama, was a young slave who had been captured +on one of these bloodthirsty raids. And M'tesa, who often sent out +his executioners to slay his own people by the hundred to please the +dreaded and horrible god of small-pox, would also sell his people by +the hundred to get guns for his soldiers. + +The Arab slave-trader bowed to the earth before King M'tesa, who +signalled to him to speak. + +"I have come," said the Arab, pointing to the guns on the floor, +"to bring you these things in exchange for some men and women and +children. See, I offer you guns and percussion caps and cloth." And he +spread out lengths of the red cloth, and held out one of the guns with +its gleaming barrel. + +King M'tesa's eyes lighted up with desire as he saw the muskets and +the ammunition. These, he thought, are the things that will make me +powerful against my enemies. + +"I will give you," the Arab slave-trader went on, "one of these +lengths of red cloth in exchange for one man to be sold to me as +a slave; one of these guns for two men; and one hundred of these +percussion caps for a woman as a slave." + +Mackay looked into the cruel face of M'tesa, and he could see how the +ambitious King longed for the guns. Should he risk the favour of the +King by fighting the battle of a few slaves? Yet Mackay remembered as +he sat there, how Livingstone's great fight against the slave-traders +had made him, as a student, vow that he too would go out and fight +slavery in Africa. The memory nerved him for the fight he was now to +make. + +Mackay turned to M'tesa and said words like these:[55] + +"O King M'tesa, you are set as father over all your multitude of +people. They are your children. It is they who make you a great King. + +"Remember, O King, that the Sultan of Zanzibar himself has signed a +decree that no slaves shall be taken in all these lands and sold to +other lands down beyond the coast, whither this Arab would lead your +children. Therefore if you sell slaves you break his law. + +"Will you, then, sell your own people that they may be taken out of +their homeland into a strange country? They will be chained to one +another, beaten with whips, scourged and kicked, and many will be left +at the wayside to die; till the peoples of the coast shall laugh at +Uganda and say, 'That is how King M'tesa lets strangers treat his +children!'" + +We can imagine how the Arab turned and scowled fiercely at Mackay. +His heart raged, and he would have given anything to plunge the dagger +hidden in his robe into Mackay's heart. Who was this white man who +dared to try to stop his trade? But Mackay went on. + +"See," he said, pointing to the boys and the chiefs, "your children +are wonderfully made. Their bones, which are linked together, are +clothed with flesh; and from the heart in their breasts the blood that +gives men life flows to and fro through their bodies, while the breath +goes in and out of their lungs and makes them live. God the Father and +Maker of all men alone can create such wonders. No men who ever lived +could, if they worked all through their lives, make one thing so +marvellous as one of these boys. Will you, then, sell one of these +miracles, one of your children, for a bit of red rag which any man can +make in a day?" + +All eyes turned to King M'tesa to learn what he would say. + +The King with a wave of his hand dismissed the scowling Arab, while he +took counsel with his chiefs, and came to this decision: + +"My people shall no more be made slaves." + +A decree was written out and King M'tesa put his hand to it. The +crestfallen Arab and his men gathered up their guns and cloths, +marched down the hill to buy ivory instead of slaves for their bales +of red cloth, and went out of the dominions of King M'tesa, across the +Great Lake homeward. + +Mackay had won the first battle against slavery. His heart was very +glad. Yet he knew that, although he had scored a triumph in this fight +with the slave-dealer, he had not won in his great campaign. The King +was generally kind to Mackay, for he was proud to have so clever a +white man in his country. But he could not make up his mind to become +a Christian. M'tesa's heart had not really changed. His slave-raiding +of other tribes might still go on. The horrible butcherings of his +people to turn away the dreaded anger of the gods would continue. +Mackay felt he must press on with his work. He was slowly opening a +road through the jungle of cruelty and the marshes of dread of the +gods that made the life of the Baganda people dark and dreadful. + +All Uganda waited breathless one day as though the end of the world +had come. + +"King M'tesa is dead!" the cry went out through all the land. + +The people waited in dread and on tiptoe of eagerness till the new +king was selected by the chiefs from the sons of the dead ruler. + +At last a great cheer went up from the Palace. "M'wanga has eaten +Uganda!" they shouted. + +By this the people meant that M'wanga, a young son of M'tesa--only +eighteen years old--had been made King. He was, however, a boy with no +power--the mere feeble tool of the Katikiro (the Prime Minister) and +of Mujasi, the Captain of the King's own bodyguard of soldiers. Both +of these great men of the kingdom fiercely hated Mackay, for they were +jealous of his power over the old King. So they whispered into the +young M'wanga's ears stories like this: "You know that men say that +Uganda will be eaten up by an enemy from the lands of the rising sun. +Mackay and the other white men are making ready to bring thousands of +white soldiers into your land to 'eat it up' and to kill you." + +So M'wanga began to refuse to speak to Mackay. Then, because the King +was afraid to attack him, he began to lay plots against the boys. + +One morning Mackay started out from his house with five or six boys +and the crew of his boat to march down to the lake. Among the boys +were young Lugalama--the fair-haired slave-boy, now a freed-slave and +a servant to Mackay--and Kakumba, who had (you remember) been baptised +Joseph. The King and the Katikiro had given Mackay permission to go +down to the lake and sail across it to take letters to a place called +Msalala from which the carriers would bear them down to the coast. + +Down the hill the party walked, the crew carrying the baggage and the +oars on their heads. Mackay and his colleague Ashe, who had come out +from England to work with him, walked behind. + +To their surprise there came running down the path behind them and +past them a company of soldiers. + +"Where are you going?" asked Mackay of one of the soldiers. + +"Mujasi, the Captain of the Bodyguard," he replied, "has sent us to +capture some of the King's wives who have run away." + +Another and yet another body of soldiers rushed past them. Mackay +became more and more suspicious that some foul plot was being brewed. +He and his company had walked ten miles, and the lake was but two +miles away, divided from them by a wood. Suddenly there leapt out from +behind the trees of the wood hundreds of men headed by Mujasi himself. + +They levelled their guns and spears at Mackay and his friends and +yelled, "Go back! Go back!" + +"We are the King's friends," replied Mackay, "and we have his leave to +travel. How dare you insult us?" + +And they pushed forward. But the soldiers rushed at them; snatched +their walking-sticks from them and began to jostle them. Mackay and +Ashe sat down by the side of the path. Mujasi came up to them. + +"Where are you walking?" he asked. + +"We are travelling to the port with the permission of King M'wanga and +the Katikiro." + +"You are a liar!" replied Mujasi. + +Mujasi stood back and the soldiers rushed at the missionaries, dragged +them to their feet and held the muzzles of their guns within a few +inches of their chests. Mackay turned with his boys and marched back +to the capital. + +He and Ashe were allowed to go back to their own home on the side of +the hill, but the five boys were marched to the King's headquarters +and imprisoned. The Katikiro, when Mackay went to him, refused to +listen at first. Then he declared that Mackay was always taking boys +out of the country, and returning with armies of white men and hiding +them with the intention of conquering Uganda. + +The Katikiro waved them aside and the angry waiting mob rushed on the +missionaries yelling, "Mine shall be his coat!" "Mine his trousers!" +"No, mine!" shouted another, as the men scuffled with one another. + +Mackay and Ashe at last got back to their home and knelt in prayer. +Later on the same evening, they decided to attempt to win back +the King and the Prime Minister and Mujasi by gifts, so that their +imprisoned boys would be freed from danger. + +Mackay spoke to his other boys, telling them to go and fly for their +lives or they would be killed. + +In the morning Mackay heard that three of the boys who had been +captured on the previous day were not only bound as prisoners, but +that Mujasi was threatening to burn them to death. The boys were named +Seruwanga, Kakumba, and Lugalama. The eldest was fifteen, the youngest +twelve. + +The boys were led out with a mob of howling men and boys around them. +Mujasi shouted to them: "Oh, you know Isa Masiya (Jesus Christ). You +believe you will rise from the dead. I shall burn you, and you will +see if this is so." + +A hideous roar of laughter rose from the mob. The boys were led down +the hill towards the edge of a marsh. Behind them was a plantation of +banana trees. Some men who had carried bundles of firewood on their +heads threw the wood into a heap; others laid hold of each of the boys +and cut off their arms with hideous curved knives so that they should +not struggle in the fire. + +Seruwanga, the bravest, refused to utter a cry as he was cut to +pieces, but Kakumba shouted to Mujasi, who was a Mohammedan, "You +believe in Allah the Merciful. Be merciful!" But Mujasi had no mercy. + +We are told that the men who were watching held their breath with +awed amazement as they heard a boy's voice out of the flame and smoke +singing, + + "Daily, daily sing to Jesus, + Sing, my soul, His praises due." + +As the executioners came towards the youngest and feeblest, Lugalama, +he cried, "Oh, do not cut off my arms. I will not struggle, I will not +fight--only throw me into the fire." + +But they did their ghastly work, and threw the mutilated boy on a +wooden framework above the slow fire where his cries went up, till at +last there was silence. + +One other Christian stood by named Musali. Mujasi, with eyes bloodshot +and inflamed with cruelty, came towards him and cried: + +"Ah, you are here. I will burn you too and your household. You are a +follower of Isa (Jesus)." + +"Yes, I am," replied Musali, "and I am not ashamed of it." + +It was a marvel of courage to say in the face of the executioner's +fire and knife what Peter dared not say when the servant-maid in +Jerusalem laughed at him. Perhaps the heroism of Musali awed even the +cruel-hearted Mujasi. In any case he left Musali alone. + +For a little time M'wanga ceased to persecute the Christians. But the +wily Arabs whispered in his ear that the white men were still trying +to "eat up" his country. M'wanga was filled with mingled anger and +fear. Then his fury burst all bounds when Mujasi said to him: "There +is a great white man coming from the rising sun. Behind him will come +thousands of white soldiers." + +"Send at once and kill him," cried the demented M'wanga. + +A boy named Balikudembe, a Christian, heard the order and he could not +contain himself, but broke out, "Oh, King M'wanga, why are you going +to kill a white man? Your father did not do so." + +But the soldiers went out, travelled east along the paths till they +met the great Bishop Hannington being carried in a litter, stricken +with fever. They took him prisoner, and, after some days, slew him as +he stood defenceless before them. Hannington had been sent out to help +Mackay and his fellow-Christians. + +Then the King fell ill. He believed that the boy Balikudembe, who had +warned him not to kill the Bishop, had bewitched him. So M'wanga's +soldiers went and caught the lad and led him down to a place where +they lit a fire, and placing the boy over it, burned him slowly to +death. + +All through this time Mackay alone had not been really seriously +threatened, for his work and what he was made the King and the +Katikiro and even Mujasi afraid to do him to death. + +Then there came a tremendous thunderstorm. A flash of lightning smote +the King's house and it flamed up and burned to ashes. Then King +M'wanga seemed to go mad. He threatened to slay Mackay himself. + +"Take, seize, burn the Christians," he cried. And his executioners +and their minions rushed out, captured forty-six men and boys, slashed +their arms from their bodies with their cruel curved knives so that +they could not struggle, and then placed them over the ghastly flames +which slowly wrung the lives from their tortured bodies. Yet the +numbers of the Christians seemed to grow with persecution. + +The King himself beat one boy, Apolo Kagwa, with a stick and smote him +on the head, then knocked him down, kicked and stamped upon him. Then +the King burned all his books, crying, "Never read again." + +The other men and boys who had become Christians were now scattered +over the land in fear of their lives. Mackay, however, come what may, +determined to hold on. He set his little printing press to work and +printed off a letter which he sent to the scattered Christians. In +Mackay's letter was written these words, "In days of old Christians +were hated, were hunted, were driven out and were persecuted for +Jesus' sake, and thus it is to-day. Our beloved brothers, do not deny +our Lord Jesus!" + +At last M'wanga's mad cruelties grew so frightful that all his people +rose in rebellion and drove him from the throne, so that he had to +wander an outcast by the lake-side. Mackay at that time was working +by the lake, and he offered to shelter the deposed King who had only a +short time before threatened his life. + + * * * * * + +Two years passed; and Mackay, on the lake-side, was building a new +boat in which he hoped to sail to other villages to teach the people. +Then a fever struck him. He lay lingering for some days. Then he +died--aged only forty-one. + +If Mackay, instead of becoming a missionary, had entered the +engineering profession he might have become a great engineer. When he +was a missionary in Africa, the British East Africa Company offered +him a good position. He refused it. General Gordon offered him a high +position in his army in Egypt. He refused it. + +He held on when his friends and the Church Missionary Society called +him home. This is what he said to them, "What is this you write--'Come +home'? Surely now, in our terrible dearth of workers, it is not the +time for anyone to desert his post. Send us only our first twenty men, +and I may be tempted to come to help you to find the second twenty." + +He died when quite young; homeless, after a life in constant danger +from fever and from a half-mad tyrant king--his Christian disciples +having been burned. + +Was it worth while? + +To-day the Prime Minister of Uganda is Apolo Kagwa, who as a boy +was kicked and beaten and stamped upon by King M'wanga for being +a Christian; and the King of Uganda, Daudi, M'wanga's son, is a +Christian. At the capital there stands a fine cathedral in which brown +Baganda clergy lead the prayers of the Christian people. On the place +where the boys were burned to death there stands a Cross, put there by +70,000 Baganda Christians in memory of the young martyrs. + +Was their martyrdom worth while? + +To-day all the slave raiding has ceased for ever; innocent people are +not slaughtered to appease the gods; the burning of boys alive has +ceased. + +Mackay began the work. He made the first rough road and as he made it +he wrote: "This will certainly yet be a highway for the King Himself; +and all that pass this way will come to know His name." + +"And a highway shall be there and a way; and it shall be a way of +holiness." + +But the Way is not finished. And the last words that Mackay wrote +were: "Here is a sphere for your energies. Bring with you your highest +education and your greatest talents, and you will find scope for the +exercise of them all." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 55: There is no record of the precise words, but Mackay +gives the argument in a letter home.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BLACK APOSTLE OF THE LONELY LAKE + +_Shomolekae_ + + +In the garden in Africa where, you remember, David Livingstone +plighted troth with Mary Moffat, as they stood under an almond tree, +there lived years ago a chocolate-skinned, curly-haired boy. His name +was Shomolekae.[56] + +His work was to go among the fruit trees, when the peaches and +apricots were growing and to shout and make a noise to scare away the +birds. If he had not done this they would have eaten up all the fruit. +This boy was born in Africa over seventy-five years ago, when Victoria +was a young queen. + +In the same garden was a grown-up gardener, also an African, with a +dark face and crisp, curly hair. The grown-up gardener one day stole +some of the fruit off the trees, and he went to the little boy, +Shomolekae, and offered him some apricots. + +Now, Shomolekae had learned to love the missionary, Mr. Mackenzie, +who had come to live in the house at Kuruman. He knew that it was very +wrong of the gardener to steal the fruit and throw the blame on the +birds. So he said that he would not touch the fruit. He went to an old +black friend of his named Paul and said to him: + +"The gardener has stolen the apples and plums and has asked me to eat +them. He has robbed Mr. Mackenzie. I do not know what to do." + +And old Paul went and told John Mackenzie, who took notice of the boy +Shomolekae and learned to trust him. + +Many months passed by; and two years later John Mackenzie was going +to a place further north in Africa than Kuruman. The name of this town +was Shoshong, where Mackenzie would live and teach the people about +Jesus Christ. So he went to the father of Shomolekae, whose name was +Sebolai. + +"Sebolai," said John Mackenzie, "I want to take your son, Shomolekae, +with me to Shoshong." + +Sebolai replied: "I am willing that my son should come to live with +you, but one thing I desire. It is that he should be taught his +reading and to know the stories in the Bible and such things." + +To this John Mackenzie quickly agreed, for he too desired that the boy +should read. + +So the sixteen oxen were yoked to the big wagon, and amid much +shouting and cracking of whips and lowing of oxen and creaking of +wagon-joints, John Mackenzie, Shomolekae, and the others, started from +Kuruman northward to Shoshong. + +Now, at Shoshong the chief was Sekhome, who, you remember, in our last +story, was father to Khama. So when they were at Shoshong, Shomolekae, +the young man who was cook, and Khama, the young man who was the son +of the chief, worshipped in the same little church together. It was +not such a church as you go to in our country--but just a little place +made of mud bricks that had been dried in the sun. There were holes +instead of windows, and there was no door in the open doorway; and on +the top of the little building was a roof of rough, reedy grass. + +These were the days that you heard of in the last story, when Khama, +seeing his tribe attacked by the fierce Lobengula, rode out on +horseback at the head of his regiment of cavalry and fought them and +beat them, and drove away Lobengula with a bullet in his neck. + +For two years Shomolekae, learning to read better every day, and +serving John Mackenzie faithfully in his house, lived at Shoshong. + +Sometimes Shomolekae took long journeys with wagon and oxen, and at +the end of two years he went with Mackenzie a great way in order to +buy windows, doors, hinges, nails, corrugated iron, and timber with +which to build a better church at Shoshong. + +When Shomolekae came back again with the wagons loaded up there was +great excitement in the tribe. Hammers and saws, screw-drivers and +chisels were busy day after day, and the missionary and his helpers +laid the bricks one upon another until there rose up a strong church +with windows and a door--a place in which the people went to worship +God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. + +Again Shomolekae went away by wagon, and this time he travelled away +by the edge of the desert southward until at last he reached the +garden at Kuruman where as a boy he used to frighten the birds from +the fruit trees. He was now a very clever man at driving wagons and +oxen. + +This, as you know, is not so easy as driving a wagon with two horses +is in Britain. For there were as many as sixteen and even eighteen +oxen harnessed two by two to the long iron chains in front of the +wagon. + +There were no roads, only rough tracks, and the wagon would drag +through the deep sand, or bump over great boulders of rock, or sink +into wet places by the river. But at such times one of the natives +always led the two front oxen through the river with a long thong that +was fastened to their horns. + +So, in order to drive a wagon well, Shomolekae needed to be able to +manage sixteen oxen all at once, and keep them walking in a straight +line. He needed to know which were the bad-tempered ones and which +were the good, and which pulled best in one part of the span and which +in another; and how to keep them all pulling together and not lunging +at one another with their horns. + +Shomolekae also had to be so bold and daring that, if lions came to +eat the oxen at night, he could go with the gun and either frighten +them away or actually shoot them. + +So you see Shomolekae was very clever, and was full of good courage. + +While he was living at Kuruman a man came to him one day and said: + +"John Mackenzie is alone at Shoshong, and there is no one who can +drive his wagon well for him." + +The man who told him this was, as it happened, going by wagon to +Shoshong, where John Mackenzie lived. + +"Let me go with you," said Shomolekae. + +So he got up into the wagon, and away they went day after day +northward on the same journey that Shomolekae had taken when he was a +boy. + +So Shomolekae served Mackenzie for years as wagon driver at Shoshong. + +At last the time came when Mackenzie himself left the tribe at +Shoshong--left Khama and all his people--and travelled southward to +build at Kuruman a kind of small school where he could train young +black men to be missionaries to their own people. And Shomolekae +himself went to Kuruman with Mackenzie. He set to work with his own +hands, and he helped to make and lay bricks, to put in the doors and +windows, and to place the roof on the walls, until at last the little +school was built. + +And when it was actually built Shomolekae himself went to be a student +there, and Mackenzie began to train him to be a preacher and a teacher +to his own people. + +For three years Shomolekae worked hard in the college, learning more +and more about Jesus Christ, preparing himself to go among his own +people to tell them about Him. + +At last the time came when he was ready to go; and he started out, and +travelled long, long miles through sandy places, and then by a +river, until at last he reached a town of little thatched huts called +Pitsani, which means "The Town of the Little Hyena." + +In that town he gathered the men and women and the boys and girls +together and taught them the things that he knew. + +While Shomolekae was at Pitsani there came into that part of Africa a +new missionary, whose name was Mr. Wookey. + +It was decided that Mr. Wookey should go a long, long journey and +settle down by the shores of Lake Ngami, which, you remember, David +Livingstone had discovered long years before. + +Shomolekae wished to go out with Mr. Wookey into this country and to +help. So he took the wagon and yoked the oxen to it, loaded it up with +food and all the things needed for cooking as they travelled along, +and drove the oxen dragging the wagon over many hundreds of miles of +country in which leopards barked and lions roared, until at last they +came to the land near Lake Ngami. + +When they came into this land, and found a place in which to settle +down, clever Shomolekae mixed earth into mud just as boys and girls +do in order to make mud-pies, but he made the mud into the shape of +bricks, and then placed the bricks of mud out into the sun to dry. + +The sunshine was very, very hot indeed--so hot that the bricks became +hard and dry and strong. Day after day Shomolekae worked until he had +made a big heap of bricks. With these he built a little house for Mr. +Wookey to live in. But these sun-dried bricks soon spoil if they get +wet, so he had to build a verandah to keep the rain from the walls. + +When the house was built and Mr. Wookey was settled in it, they +travelled still further up the river to learn what people were living +there. + +After a while it was decided that Shomolekae should go and live in a +small village by the river, and there again begin his work of telling +the men and women of Jesus Christ, and teaching the boys and girls to +read. + +In his satchel, which was made of odd bits of calico print of +different patterns, Shomolekae had a hymn-book with music. The +hymn-book was written in the language of the people--the Sechuana +language--and Shomolekae taught them from the book to sing hymns. The +music was the sol-fa notation. + +This is one of the hymns: + + 1. "Yesu oa me oa nthata, + Leha ke le mo dibin; + A re yalo mo kwalon, + A re yalo mo pedun. + + E, Yesu oa me, + E, Yesu oa me, + E, Yesu oa me, + Oa me, mo loraton. + + 2. "Yesu oa me oa nthata, + O ntehetse molato; + O mpusitse timelon, + O ntlhapisa mo pedun. + + "E, Yesu oa me," etc. + +This is what these words mean in English. I expect you know them very +well. + + 1. "Jesus loves me, this I know, + For the Bible tells me so; + Little ones to Him belong, + They are weak, but He is strong. + + "Yes, Jesus loves me, + Yes, Jesus loves me, + Yes, Jesus loves me-- + The Bible tells me so. + + 2. "Jesus loves me, He who died + Heaven's gate to open wide; + He will wash away my sin, + Let His little child come in. + + "Yes, Jesus loves me," etc. + +But, you see, the missionary had to alter the words sometimes so as to +make the Sechuana lines come right for the music; and the second verse +really means: + + "My Jesus loves me; + He has paid my debt; + He has brought me back from where I strayed; + He has washed my heart. + + Yes, my Jesus, Yes, my Jesus. + Yes, my Jesus. Mine in love." + +They would learn the words off by heart because there was only the +one hymn-book, and they would sing them together, Shomolekae's voice +leading. + +They learned them so well that sometimes when the mothers were out +hoeing in the fields, or the little boys were paddling in their canoes +and fishing in the marshy waters, you would hear them singing the +hymns that they learned in Shomolekae's little school hut. + +Then on Sunday they would have Sunday-school, and when that was over +Shomolekae would gather the chocolate-faced men and women and boys and +girls together--all who would come--and he would teach them to kneel +down and pray to the one God, Who is our Father, and they would sing +the hymns that they had learned, and then he would speak to them a +simple little address, telling them of the Lord Jesus. + +But Shomolekae desired always to go further and further, even though +it was dangerous and difficult. So he got a canoe and launched it +in the river by the village and paddled further and further up the +stream, under the overhanging trees, and sometimes across the deep +pools in which the big and fierce hippopotami and crocodiles lived. + +He paddled up the River Okanvango, though many times he was in danger +of his life. The river was not like rivers in our own country, deep +and with strong banks; it was often filled all over with reeds, and +as shallow as a swamp, and poor Shomolekae had to push his way +with difficulty through these reeds. Always at night the poisonous +mosquitoes came buzzing and humming around him. The evil-tempered +hippopotamus would suddenly come up from the bottom of the river with +his wicked beady eyes, and great cavernous mouth, with its enormous +teeth, yawning at Shomolekae as though he quite meant to swallow him +whole. + +On the banks at night the lions would roar, and then the hyenas would +howl; but Shomolekae's brave heart held on, and he pushed on up the +river to preach and teach the people in the villages near the river. + +So through many years, with high courage and simple faith, Shomolekae +worked. + +A good many boys and girls in England before they are ten years old +own many more books than Shomolekae ever had and have read more than +he. They also have better homes than he, for he pushed on from one +mud hut to another along the rivers and lakes, and all the possessions +that he had in the world could be put into the bottom of his canoe. + +But our Heavenly Father, Who loves you and me, went with him every +step of the way. When Shomolekae taught the boys and girls to sing +hymns in praise of Jesus, even in a little mud hut, He was there, just +as He is in the most beautiful church when we worship Him. Now God has +taken Shomolekae across the last river to be with Himself. + +Shomolekae was a negro with dark skin and curly hair. We are white +children with fair faces and light hair. But God is his Father as well +as ours and loves us all alike and wishes to gather us together round +Him--loving Him and one another. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 56: Pronounce Shoh-moh-leh-kei.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE WOMAN WHO CONQUERED CANNIBALS + +_Mary Slessor_ + +(Dates, b. 1848, d. 1915) + + +I. THE MILL-GIRL + +_The Calabar Girls at the Station_ + +As the train from the south slowed down in Waverley Station, +Edinburgh, one day in 1898, a black face, with eyes wide open with +wonder, appeared at the window. The carriage door opened and a little +African girl was handed down onto the platform. + +The people on the station stopped to glance at the strange negro face. +But as a second African girl a little older than the first stepped +from the carriage to the platform, and a third, and then a fourth +black girl appeared, the cabmen and porters stood staring in amused +curiosity. + +Who was that strange woman (they asked one another), short and slight, +with a face like yellow parchment and with short, straight brown hair, +who smiled as she gathered the little tribe of African girls round her +on the railway platform? + +The telegraph boys and the news-boys gazed at her in astonishment. +But they would have been transfixed with amazement if they had known +a tenth of the wonder of the story of that heroic woman who, just +as simply as she stood there on the Waverley platform, had mastered +cannibals, conquered wild drunken chiefs brandishing loaded muskets, +had faced hunger and thirst under the flaming heat and burning fevers +of Africa, and walked unscathed by night through forests haunted by +ferocious leopards, to triumph over regiments of frenzied savages +drawn up for battle, had rescued from death hundreds of baby twins +thrown out to be eaten by ants--and had now brought home to Scotland +from West Africa four of these her rescued children. + +Still more would those Scottish boys at Waverley Station have +wondered, as they gazed on the little woman and her group of black +children, if they had known that the woman who had done these things, +Mary Slessor, had been a Scottish factory girl, who had toiled at her +weaving machine from six in the morning till six at night amid the +whirr of the belts, the flash of the shuttles, the rattle of the +looms, and the roar of the great machines. + +Born in Aberdeen, December 2, 1848, Mary Slessor was the daughter of +a Scottish shoemaker. Her mother was a gentle and sweet-faced woman. +After her father's death Mary was the mainstay of the home. Working +in a weaving shed in Dundee (whither the family moved when Mary was +eleven) she educated herself while at her machine. + +_The Call to Africa_ + +Like Livingstone, she taught herself with her book propped up on +the machine at which she worked. She read his travels and heard the +stories of his fight against slavery for Africa, till he became her +hero. + +One day the news flashed round the world: "Livingstone is dead. His +heart is buried in Central Africa." Mary had thrilled as she read the +story of his heroic and lonely life. Now he had fallen. She heard in +her heart the words that he had spoken: + +"I go to Africa to try to make an open door....; do you carry out the +work which I have begun. I LEAVE IT WITH YOU." + +As Mary sat, tired with her week's work, in her pew in the church on +Sunday, and thought of Livingstone's call to Africa, she saw visions +of far-off places of which she heard from the pulpit and read in her +magazines--visions of a steaming river on the West Coast of Africa +where the alligators slid from the mud banks into the water; visions +of the barracoons on the shore in which the captured negroes were +penned as they waited for the slave-ships; pictures of villages where +trembling prisoners dipped their hands in boiling oil to test their +guilt, and wives were strangled to go with their dead chief into the +spirit-land; visions of the fierce chiefs who could order a score of +men to be beheaded for a cannibal feast and then sell a hundred more +to be hounded away into the outer darkness of slavery--the Calabar +where the missionaries of her church were fighting the black darkness +of the most savage people of the world. + +Mary Slessor made up her mind to go out and give her whole life to +Africa. So she offered herself, a timorous girl who could not cross a +field with a cow in it, as a missionary for cannibal Calabar, in West +Africa. + +For twelve years she worked at the centre of the mission in Calabar +and then flung herself into pioneer work among the terrible tribe +of Okoyong. No one had ever been able to influence them. They defied +British administration. For fifteen years she strove there, and won +a power over the ferocious Okoyong savages such as no one has ever +wielded. "I'm a wee, wee wifie," she said, "no very bookit, but I grip +on well none the less." + +To-day over two thousand square miles of forest and rivers, +the dark savages, as they squat at night in the forest +around their palaver-fires, tell one another stories of the +Great-White-Ma-Who-Lived-Alone, and the stories they tell are like +these. + + +II. THE HEALING OF THE CHIEF + +_Through the Forest in the Rain_ + +A strange quiet lay over all the village by the river. For the chief +lay ill in his hut. The Calabar people were waiting on the tip-toe of +suspense. For if the chief died many of them would be slain to go +with him into the spirit-world--his wives and some of his soldiers and +slaves. + +Suddenly a strange African woman, who had come over from another +village, entered the chief's harem. She spoke to the wives of the +chief, saying, "There lives away through the forest at Ekenge a white +Ma who can cast out by her magic the demons who are killing your +chief. My son's child was dying, but the white Ma[57] saved her and +she is well to-day. Many other wonders has she done by the power of +her juju. Let your chief send for her and he will not die." + +There was silence and then eager chattering, for the women knew that +their very lives depended on the chief getting well. If he died, they +would be killed. + +They sent in word to the chief about the strange white Ma. + +"Let her be sent for," he ordered. "Send a bottle and four rods (value +about a shilling) and messengers to ask her to come." + +All through the day the messengers hurried over stream and hill, +through village after village and along the forest paths till at last, +after eight hours' journey, they came to the village of Ekenge. Going +to the courtyard of the chief they told him the story of their sick +chief, and their desire that the white Ma who lived in his village +should come and heal him. + +"She will say for herself what she will do," said the chief. + +So he sent a messenger to Mary Slessor. She soon came over from her +little house to learn what was needed of her. + +The story of the sick chief was again told. + +"What is the matter with your chief?" asked Mary Slessor. Blank faces +and nodding heads showed that they knew nothing at all. + +"I must go to him," she declared. She knew that the way was full of +perils, and that she might be killed by warriors and wild beasts; but +she knew too that, if she did not go and if the chief died, hundreds +of lives might be sacrificed. + +Chief Edem said, "There are warriors out in the woods and you will be +killed. You must not go." + +Ma Eme, a tall fat African widow of Ekenge village, who loved Mary +Slessor, said, "No, you must not go. The streams are deep; the rains +are come. You could never get there." + +But Mary Slessor said, "I _must_ go." + +"Then I will send women with you to look after you, and men to protect +you," said Chief Edem. + +Mary Slessor went back to her house to prepare to start on her long +dangerous journey in the morning. She could not sleep for wondering +whether she was indeed right to risk her life and all her work on the +off-chance of saving this distant sick chief. She knelt down and asked +God to guide her. Then she felt in her heart that she must go. + +In the morning at dawn a guard of Ekenge women came to her door. + +"The men will join us outside the village," they said. + +The skies were grey. The rain was falling as they started. When the +village lay behind them the rain began to pour in sheets. It came down +as only an African rain can, unceasing torrents of pitiless deluge. +Soon Mary Slessor's soaked boots became impossible to walk in. She +took them off and threw them into the bush; then her stockings went, +and she ploughed on in the mud in her bare feet. + +They had walked for three hours when, as the weather began to clear, +Mary Slessor came out into a market-place for neighbouring villages. +The hundreds of Africans who were bartering in the market-place turned +and stared at the strange white woman who swiftly passed through their +midst and disappeared into the bush beyond. + +So she pressed on for hour after hour, her head throbbing with fever, +her dauntless spirit driving her trembling, timid body onward till +at last, when she had been walking almost ceaselessly for over eight +hours, she tottered into the village of the sick chief. + + +_The Healing Hand._ + +Mary Slessor, aching from head to foot with fever and overwhelming +weariness, did not lie down even for a moment's rest, but walked +straight to the chief who lay senseless on his mat on the mud floor. +Having examined him she took from her little medicine chest a drug and +gave a dose to the chief. But she could see at once that more of this +medicine was needed than she had with her. She knew that, away on the +other side of the river, some hours distant, another missionary was +working. + +"You must go across the river to Ikorofiong for more medicine." + +"No, no!" they said, "we dare not go. They will slay any man who goes +there." + +She was in despair. Then someone said, "There is a man of that country +living in his canoe on the river. Perhaps he would go?" + +They ran down to the river and found him. After much persuading he at +last went, and returned next day with the medicine. + +The chief, whom the women had believed to be almost dead, gradually +recovered consciousness, then sat up and took food. At last he was +quite well. All the village laughed and sang for joy. There would be +no slaying. They gathered round Mary Slessor in grateful wonder at +her magic powers. She told them that she had come to them because +she worshipped the Great Physician Jesus Christ, the Son of the +Father--God who made all things. Then she gathered them together in +the morning and evening, and led them as with bowed heads they all +thanked God for the healing of the chief. + + +III. VALIANT IN FIGHT + +Years passed by and Mary Slessor's name was known in all the villages +for many miles. She was, to them, the white Ma who was brave and wise +and kind. She was mad, they thought, because she was always rescuing +the twin babies whom the Calabar people throw out to die and the +mothers of twins whom they often kill. But in some strange way they +felt that her wisdom, her skill in healing men, and her courage, which +was more heroic than that of their bravest warriors, came from the +Spirit who made all things. She would wrench guns from the hands of +drunken savage men who were three times as strong as she was. At last +she used to sit with their chief as judge of quarrels, and many times +in palavers between villages she stopped the people from going to war. + + +_Through the Forest Perilous_ + +One day a secret message came to her that, in some villages far away, +a man of one village had wounded the chief in another village and that +all the warriors were arming and holding councils of war. + +"I must go and stop it," said Mary Slessor. + +"You cannot," said her friends at Ekenge, "the steamer is coming to +take you home to Britain because you are so ill. You will miss the +boat. You are too ill to walk. The wild beasts in the woods will kill +you. The savage warriors are out, and will kill you in the dark--not +knowing who you are." + +"But I must go," she answered. + +The chief insisted that she must have two armed men with lanterns with +her, and that she must get the chief of a neighbouring village to send +out his drummer with her so that people might know--as they heard the +drum--that a protected person was travelling who must not be harmed. + +It was night, and Mary Slessor with her two companions marched out +into the darkness, the lanterns throwing up strange shadows that +looked like fierce men in the darkness. Through the night they walked +till at midnight they reached the village where they were to ask for +the drum. + +The chief was surly. + +"You are going to a warlike people," he said. "They will not listen to +what a woman says. You had better go back. I will not protect you." + +Mary Slessor was on her mettle. + +"When you think of the woman's power," she said to the chief, "you +forget the power of the woman's God. I shall go on." + +And to the amazement of the savages in the villages she went on into +the darkness. Surely she must be mad. She defied their chief who had +the power to kill her. She had walked on into a forest where ferocious +leopards abounded ready to spring out upon her, and where men were +drinking themselves into a fury of war. And for what? To try with a +woman's tongue to stop the fiery chiefs and the savages of a distant +warlike tribe from fighting. Surely she was mad. + + +_Facing the Warriors_ + +She pressed on through the darkness. Then she saw the dim outlines +of huts. Mary Slessor had reached the first town in the war area. She +found the hut where an old Calabar woman lived who knew the white Ma. + +"Who is there?" came a whisper from within. + +But even as she replied there was a swift patter of bare feet. Out of +the darkness leapt a score of armed warriors. They were all round her. +From all parts dark shadows sprang forward till scores of men with +their chiefs were jostling, chattering and threatening. + +"What have you come for?" they asked. + +"I have heard that you are going to war. I have come to ask you not to +fight," she replied. + +The chiefs hurriedly talked together, then they came to her and said-- + +"The white Ma is welcome. She shall hear all that we have to say +before we fight. All the same we shall fight. For here you see are men +wounded. We _must_ wipe out the disgrace that is put upon us. Now she +must rest. Women, you take care of the white Ma. We will call her at +cock-crow when we start." + +This meant an hour's sleep. Mary Slessor lay down in a hut. It seemed +as though her eyes were hardly shut before she was wakened again. She +stood, tottering with tiredness, when she heard the cry-- + +"Run, Ma, run!" + +The warriors were off down the hill away to the fight. She ran, but +they were quickly out of sight on the way to the attack. Was all her +trouble in vain? She pressed on weak and breathless, but determined. +She heard wild yells and the roll of the war drum. The warriors she +had followed were feverishly making ready to fight, a hundred yards +distant from the enemy's village. + +She went up to them and spoke sternly. + +"Behave like men," she said, "not like fools. Do not yell and shout. +Hold your peace. I am going into the village there." + +She pointed to the enemy. Then she walked forward. Ahead of her stood +the enemy in unbroken ranks of dark warriors. They stood like a solid +wall. She hailed them as she walked forward. + +There was an ominous silence. She laughed. + +"How perfect your manners are!" she exclaimed. She was about to walk +forward and force them to make way for her when an old chief stepped +out toward her and, to her amazement, knelt down at her feet. + +"Ma," he said, "we thank you for coming to us. We own that we wounded +the chief over there. It was only one of our men who did it. It was +not the act of all our town. We ask you that you will speak with our +enemy to bring them to peace with us." + +_The Healed Chief_ + +She looked into the face of the chief. Then she saw to her joy that +this was the very chief whom she had toiled through the rain to heal +long ago. Because of what she had done then, he was now at her feet +asking her to make peace. Should she run back and tell the warriors, +who a hundred yards away were spoiling for a fight? That was her first +joyful thought. Then she saw that she must first make her authority +stronger over the whole band of warriors. + +"Stay where you are," she said. "Some of you find a place where I can +sit in comfort; and bring me food. I will not starve while men fight. +Choose two or three men to speak well for you, and we will have two +men from your enemies." + +These grim warriors, so sullen and threatening a few moments ago, +obeyed her every word. At length two chiefs came from the other side +and stood on one side of her, while the two chiefs chosen in the +village came and threw down their arms and knelt at their feet. + +"Your chief," they said, "was wounded by a drunken youth. Do not let +us shed blood through all our villages because of what he did. If +you will cease from war with us, we will pay to you any fine that the +white Ma shall say." + +She, too, pressed them to stop their fighting. Word went back to the +warriors on both sides, who became wildly excited. Some agreed, others +stormed and raged till they were in a frenzy. Would they fight even +over her body? Furious warriors came moving up from both sides. But +by arguing and appealing at last she persuaded the warlike tribe to +accept a fine. + + +_The Promise of Peace_ + +The town whose drunken youth had wounded the enemy chief at once paid +a part of the fine. They used no money. So the fine was paid in casks +and bottles of trade gin. Mary Slessor trembled. For as the boxes of +gin bottles were brought forward the warriors pranced with excitement +and made ready to get drunk. She knew that this would make them fight +after all. What could she do? The roar of voices rose. She could +not make her own voice heard. A daring idea flashed into her mind. +According to the law of these Egbo people, clothes thrown over +anything give it the protection of your body. She snatched off her +skirt and all the clothing she could spare and spread them over the +gin. She seized the one glass that the tribe had, and doled out +one portion only to each chief to test whether the bottles indeed +contained spirit. At last they grew quieter and she spoke to them. + +"I am going," she said, "across the Great Waters to my home, and I +shall be away many moons. Promise me here, on both sides, that you +will not go to war with one another while I am away." + +"We promise," they said. They gathered around her and she told them +the story of Jesus Christ in whose name she had come to them. + +"Now," she said, "go to your rest and fight no more." And the tribes +kept their promise to her,--so that when she returned they could say, +"It is peace." + + * * * * * + +For nearly forty years she worked on in Calabar, stricken scores of +times with fever. She rescued her hundreds of twin babies thrown out +to die in the forest, stopped wars and ordeal by poison, made peace, +healed the sick. + +At last, too weak to walk, she was wheeled through the forests and +along the valleys by some of her "twins" now grown to strong children, +and died there--the conquering Queen of Calabar, who ruled in the +hearts of even the fiercest cannibals through the power of the Faith, +by which out of weakness she was made strong. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 57: The African uses the word "Ma" as mother, (_a_) to +name a woman after her eldest son, _e.g._ Mrs. Livingstone was called +Ma-Robert; and (_b_) as in this case, for a woman whom they respect.] + + + + +Book Four: HEROINES AND HEROES OF PLATEAU AND DESERT + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +SONS OF THE DESERT + +_Abdallah and Sabat_ + +(Time of Incidents, about 1800-1810) + + +_Two Arab Wanderers_ + +One day, more than a hundred years ago, two young Arabs, Abdallah and +Sabat, rode on their camels toward a city that was hidden among the +tawny hills standing upon the skyline. + +The sun was beginning to drop toward the edge of the desert away in +the direction of the Red Sea. The shadows of the long swinging legs of +the camels wavered in grotesque lines on the sand. There was a look +of excited expectation in the eyes of the young Arabs; for, by sunset, +their feet would walk the city of their dreams. + +They were bound for Mecca, the birthplace of Mohammed, the Holy City +toward which every man of the Mohammedan world turns five times a day +as he cries, "There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is the prophet +of Allah." To have worshipped in Mecca before the sacred Kaaba and +to have kissed the black stone in its wall--this was to make Paradise +certain for them both. Having done that pilgrimage these two Arabs, +Sabat and Abdallah, would be able to take the proud title of "Haji" +which would proclaim to every man that they had been to Mecca--the +Holy of Holies. + +So they pressed on by the valley between the hills till they saw +before them the roofs and the minarets of Mecca itself. As darkness +rushed across the desert and the stars came out, the tired camels +knelt in the courtyard of the Khan,[58] and Sabat and Abdallah +alighted and stretched their cramped legs, and took their sleep. + +These young men, Sabat and Abdallah, the sons of notable Arab chiefs, +had struck up a great friendship. Now, each in company with his chum, +they were together at the end of the greatest journey that an Arab can +take. + +As the first faint flush of pink touched the mountain beyond Mecca, +the cry came from the minaret: "Come to prayer. Prayer is better than +sleep. There is no God but Allah." + +Sabat and Abdallah were already up and out, and that day they said the +Mohammedan prayer before the Kaaba itself with other pilgrims who had +come from many lands--from Egypt and Abyssinia, from Constantinople +and Damascus, Baghdad and Bokhara, from the defiles of the Khyber +Pass, from the streets of Delhi and the harbour of Zanzibar. + +We do not know what Abdallah looked like. He was probably like most +young Arab chieftains, a tall, sinewy man--brown-faced, dark-eyed, +with hair and a short-cropped beard that were between brown and black. + +His friend Sabat was, however, so striking that even in that great +crowd of many pilgrims people would turn to look at him. They would +turn round, for one reason, because of Sabat's voice. Even when he was +just talking to his friend his voice sounded like a roar; when he got +excited and in a passion (as he very often did) it rolled like thunder +and was louder than most men's shouting. As he spoke his large white +teeth gleamed in his wide mouth. His brown face and black arched +eyebrows were a dark setting for round eyes that flashed as he spoke. +His black beard flowed over his tawny throat and neck. Gold earrings +swung with his agitation and a gold chain gleamed round his neck. He +wore a bright silk jacket with long sleeves, and long, loose-flowing +trousers and richly embroidered shoes with turned-up toes. From a +girdle round his waist hung a dagger whose handle and hilt flashed +with jewels. + +Abdallah and Sabat were better educated than most Arabs, for they +could both read. But they were not men who could stay in one place +and read and think in quiet. When they had finished their worship at +Mecca, they determined to ride far away across the deserts eastward, +even to Kabul in the mountains of Afghanistan. So they rode, first +northward up the great camel-route toward Damascus, and then eastward. +In spite of robbers and hungry jackals, through mountain gorges, over +streams, across the Syrian desert from oasis to oasis, and then across +the Euphrates and the Tigris they went, till they had climbed rung by +rung the mountain ranges that hold up the great plateau of Persia. + +At last they broke in upon the rocky valleys of Afghanistan and came +to the gateway of India--to Kabul. They presented themselves to Zeman +Shah, the ruler of Afghanistan, and he was so taken with Abdallah's +capacity that he asked him to be one of his officers in the court. +So Abdallah stayed in Kabul. But the restless, fiery Sabat turned the +face of his camel westward and rode back into Persia to the lovely +city of Bokhara. + + +_Abdallah the Daring_ + +In Kabul there was an Armenian whose name we do not know: but he +owned a book printed in Arabic, a book that Abdallah could read. The +Armenian lent it to him. There were hardly any books in Arabic, so +Abdallah took this book and read it eagerly. As he read, he thought +that he had never in all his life heard of such wonderful things, +and he could feel in his very bones that they were true. He read four +short true stories in this book: they were what we call the Gospels +according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. As he read, Abdallah saw in +the stories Someone who was infinitely greater than Mohammed--One who +was so strong and gentle that He was always helping children and women +and people who were ill; so good that He always lived the very life +that God willed; and so brave that He died rather than give in to evil +men--our Lord Jesus Christ. + +"I worship Him," said Abdallah in his heart. Then he did a very daring +thing. He knew that if he turned Christian it would be the duty of +Mohammedans to kill him. Why not keep quiet and say nothing about his +change of heart? But he could not. He decided that he must come out +in the open and confess the new Captain of his life. He was baptized a +Christian. + +The Moslems were furious. To save his life Abdallah fled on his camel +westward to Bokhara. But the news that he had become a Christian flew +even faster than he himself rode. As he went along the streets of +Bokhara he saw his friend Sabat coming toward him. As a friend, Sabat +desired to save Abdallah; but as a Moslem, the cruel law of Mohammed +said that he must have him put to death. And Sabat was a fiery, +hot-tempered Moslem. + +"I had no pity," Sabat told his friends afterward. "I delivered him up +to Morad Shah, the King." + +So Abdallah was bound and carried before the Moslem judges. His friend +Sabat stood by watching, just as Saul had stood watching them stone +Stephen nearly eighteen centuries earlier. + +"You shall be given your life and be set free," they said, "if you +will spit upon the Cross and renounce Christ and say, 'There is no God +but Allah.'" + +"I refuse," said Abdallah. + +A sword was brought forward and unsheathed. Abdallah's arm was +stretched out: the sword was lifted--it flashed--and Abdallah's hand, +cut clean off, fell on the ground, while the blood spurted from his +arm. + +"Your life will still be given you if you renounce Christ and proclaim +Allah and Mohammed as His prophet." + +This is how Sabat himself described what happened next. "Abdallah made +no answer, but looked up steadfastly toward heaven, like Stephen, the +first martyr, his eyes streaming with tears. He looked at me," said +Sabat, "but it was with the countenance of forgiveness." + +Abdallah's other arm was stretched out, again the sword flashed and +fell. His other hand dropped to the ground. He stood there bleeding +and handless. He bowed his head and his neck was bared to the sword. +Again the blade flashed. He was beheaded, and Sabat--Sabat who had +ridden a thousand miles with his friend and had faced with him +the blistering sun of the desert and the snow-blizzard of the +mountain--saw Abdallah's head lie there on the ground and the dead +body carried away. + +Abdallah had died because he was faithful to Jesus Christ and because +Sabat had obeyed the law of Mohammed. + + +_The Old Sabat and the New_ + +The news spread through Bokhara like a forest fire. They could hardly +believe that a man would die for the Christian faith like that. As +Sabat told his friends afterward, "All Bokhara seemed to say, 'What +new thing is this?'" + +But Sabat was in agony of mind. Nothing that he could do would take +away from his eyes the vision of his friend's face as Abdallah had +looked at him when his hands were being cut off. He plunged out on +to the camel tracks of Asia to try to forget. He wandered far and he +wandered long, but he could not forget or find rest for his tortured +mind. + +At last he sailed away on the seas and landed on the coast of India at +Madras. The British East India Company then ruled in India, and they +gave Sabat a post in the civil courts as mufti, _i.e._ as an expounder +of the law of Mohammed. He spent most of his time in a coast town +north of Madras, called Vizagapatam.[59] A friend handed to him +there a little book in his native language--Arabic. It was another +translation of those stories that Abdallah had read in Kabul--it was +the New Testament.[60] + +Sabat sat reading this New Book. He then took up the book of +Mohammed's law--the Koran--which it was his daily work to explain. He +compared the two. "The truth came"--as he himself said--"like a flood +of light." He too began to worship Jesus Christ, whose life he had +read now for the first time in the New Testament. Sabat decided that +he must follow in Abdallah's footsteps. He became a Christian.[61] He +was then twenty-seven years of age. + + +_The Brother's Dagger_ + +In the world of the East news travels like magic by Arab dhow (sailing +ship) and camel caravan. Very quickly the news was in Arabia that +Sabat had renounced Mohammed and become a Christian. At once Sabat's +brother rose, girded on his dagger, left the tents of his tribe, +mounted his camel and coursed across Arabia to a port. There he took +ship for Madras. Landing, he disguised himself as an Indian and went +up to Vizagapatam to the house where his brother Sabat was living. + +Sabat saw this Indian, as he appeared to be, standing before him. He +suspected nothing. Suddenly the disguised brother put his hand within +his robe, seized his dagger, and leaping at Sabat made a fierce blow +at him. Sabat flung out his arm. He spoilt his brother's aim, but +he was too late to save himself. He was wounded, but not killed. The +brother threw off his disguise, and Sabat--remembering the forgiveness +of Abdallah--forgave his brother, gave him many presents, and sent +loving messages to his mother. + +Sabat decided that he could no longer work as an expounder of Moslem +law: he wanted to do work that would help to spread the Christian +Faith. He went away north to Calcutta, and there he joined the +great men who were working at the task of translating the Bible into +different languages and printing them. This work pleased Sabat, for +was it not through reading an Arabic New Testament that all his own +life had been changed? + +Because Sabat knew Persian as well as Arabic he was sent to help a +very clever young chaplain from England named Henry Martyn, who was +busily at work translating the New Testament into Persian and Arabic. +So Sabat went up the Ganges to Cawnpore with Henry Martyn. + +Sabat's fiery temper nearly drove Martyn wild. His was a flaming Arab +spirit, hot-headed and impetuous; yet he would be ready to die for +the man he cared for; proud and often ignorant, yet simple--as Martyn +said, "an artless child of the desert." + +Sabat's knowledge of Persian was not really so good as he himself +thought it was, and some of the Indian translators at Calcutta +criticised his translation. At this he got furiously angry, and, like +St. Peter, the fiery, impetuous apostle, he denied Jesus Christ and +spoke against Christianity. + +With his heart burning with rage and his great voice thundering with +anger, Sabat left his friends, went aboard ship and sailed down the +Bay of Bengal by the Indo-Chinese coast till he came to Penang, where +he began to live as a trader. + +But by this time the fire of his anger had burnt itself out. He--again +like Peter--remembered his denial of his Master, and when he saw in +a Penang newspaper an article saying that the famous Sabat, who had +become a Christian and then become a Mohammedan again, had come to +live in their city, he wrote a letter which was published in the +newspaper at Penang declaring that he was now--and for good and all--a +Christian. + +A British officer named Colonel MacInnes was stationed at Penang. +Sabat went to him. "My mind is full of great sorrow," he said, +"because I denied Jesus Christ. I have not had a moment's peace since +Satan made me do that bad work. I did it for revenge. I only want to +do one thing with my life: to spend it in undoing this evil that has +come through my denial." + +Sabat left the house of the Mohammedan with whom he was living in +Penang. He found an old friend of his named Johannes, an Armenian +Christian merchant, who had lived in Madras in the very days when +Sabat first became a Christian. Every night Johannes the Armenian +and Sabat the Arab got out their Bibles, and far into the night Sabat +would explain their meaning to Johannes. + +_The Prince from Sumatra_ + +One day all Penang was agog with excitement because a brown Prince +from Acheen, a Malay State in the island of Sumatra, had suddenly +sailed into the harbour. He was in flight from his own land, where +rebels had attacked him. The people of Acheen were wild and ferocious; +many of them were cannibals. + +"I will join you in helping to recover your throne," said Sabat to the +fugitive Prince. "I am going," said Sabat to Colonel MacInnes, "to see +if I can carry the message of Christianity to this fierce people." + +So Sabat and the Prince, with others, went aboard a sailing ship and +crossed the Strait of Malacca to Sumatra. They landed, and for long +the struggle with the rebels swayed from side to side. The Prince was +so pleased with Sabat that he made him his Prime Minister. But the +struggle dragged on and on; there seemed to be no hope of triumph. At +last Sabat decided to go back to Penang. One day he left the Prince +and started off, but soldiers of the rebel-chief Syfoolalim captured +him. + +Great was the joy of the rebels--their powerful enemy was in their +hands! They bound him, threw him into a boat, hoisted him aboard a +sailing ship and clapped him in the stifling darkness of the hold. As +he lay there he pierced his arm to make it bleed, and, with the blood +that came out, wrote on a piece of paper that was smuggled out and +sent to Penang to Colonel MacInnes. + +The agonies that Sabat suffered in the gloom and filth of that ship's +hold no one will ever know. We can learn from the words that he wrote +in the blood from his own body that they loaded worse horrors upon +him because he was a Christian. All the scene is black, but out of the +darkness comes a voice that makes us feel that Sabat was faithful at +the end. In his last letter to Colonel MacInnes he told how he was now +ready (like his friend Abdallah) to die for the sake of that Master +whom he had in his rage denied. + +Then one day his cruel gaolers came to the hold where he lay, and, +binding his limbs, thrust him into a sack, which they then closed. In +the choking darkness of the sack he was carried on deck and dragged +to the side of the ship. He heard the lapping of the waves. He felt +himself lifted and then hurled out into the air, and down--down with a +crash into the waters of the sea, which closed over him for ever. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 58: The inn of the Near East--a square courtyard with all +the doors and windows inside, with primitive stables and bunks for the +camelmen, and sometimes rooms for the well-to-do travellers.] + +[Footnote 59: Pronounce Vi-zah'-ga-pat-ahm.] + +[Footnote 60: The Arabic New Testament revised by Solomon Negri and +sent to India by the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge +in the middle of the eighteenth century.] + +[Footnote 61: Baptized "Nathaniel" at Madras by the Rev. Dr Kerr.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A RACE AGAINST TIME + +_Henry Martyn_ + +(Dates, b. 1781, d. 1812. Time of Incident 1810-12) + + +In the story of Sabat that was told in the previous chapter you will +remember that, for a part of the time that he lived in India, he +worked with an Englishman named Henry Martyn. + +Sabat was almost a giant; Henry Martyn was slight and not very strong. +Yet--as we shall see in the story that follows--Henry Martyn was +braver and more constant than Sabat himself. + +As a boy Henry, who was born and went to school in Truro, in Cornwall, +in the West of England, was violently passionate, sensitive, and +physically rather fragile, and at school was protected from bullies by +a big boy, the son of Admiral Kempthorne. + +He left school at the age of fifteen and shot and read till he was +seventeen. In 1797 he became an undergraduate at St. John's College, +Cambridge. He was still very passionate. + +For instance, when a man was "ragging" him in the College Hall at +dinner, he was so furious that he flung a knife at him, which stuck +quivering in the panelling of the wall. Kempthorne, his old friend, +was at Cambridge with him. They used to read the Bible together and +Martyn became a real Christian and fought hard to overcome his violent +temper. + +He was a very clever scholar and became a Fellow of Jesus College in +1802. He at that time took orders in the Church of England. He became +very keen on reading about missionary work, e.g. Carey's story of +nine years' work in _Periodical Accounts_, and the L.M.S. Report on +Vanderkemp in South Africa. "I read nothing else while it lasted," he +said of the Vanderkemp report. + +He was accepted as a chaplain of the East India Company. They could +not sail till Admiral Nelson gave the word, because the French were +waiting to capture all the British ships. Five men-of-war convoyed +them when they sailed in 1805. They waited off Ireland, because the +immediate invasion of England by Napoleon was threatened. On board +Martyn worked hard at Hindustani, Bengali and Portuguese. He already +knew Greek, Latin and Hebrew. He arrived at Madras (South India) and +Calcutta and thence went to Cawnpore. It is at this point that our +yarn begins. + +A voice like thunder, speaking in a strange tongue, shouted across an +Indian garden one night in 1809. + +The new moon, looking "like a ball of ebony in an ivory cup,"--as one +who was there that night said--threw a cold light over the palm trees +and aloes, on the man who was speaking and on those who were seated +around him at the table in the bungalow. + +Beyond the garden the life of Cawnpore moved in its many streets; +the shout of a donkey-driver, the shrill of a bugle from the barracks +broke sharply through the muffled sounds of the city. The June wind, +heavy with the waters of the Ganges which flows past Cawnpore, made +the night insufferably hot. But the heat did not trouble Sabat, the +wild son of the Arabian desert, who was talking--as he always did--in +a roaring voice that was louder than most men's shouting. He was +telling the story of Abdallah's brave death as a Christian martyr.[62] + +Quietly listening to Sabat's voice--though he could not understand +what he was saying--was a young Italian, Padre Julius Caesar, a monk of +the order of the Jesuits. On his head was a little skull-cap, over his +body a robe of fine purple satin held with a girdle of twisted silk. + +Near him sat an Indian scholar--on his dark head a full turban, and +about him richly-coloured robes. On the other side sat a little, thin, +copper-coloured Bengali dressed in white, and a British officer in his +scarlet and gold uniform, with his wife, who has told us the story of +that evening. + +Not one of these brightly dressed people was, however, the strongest +power there. A man in black clothes was the real centre of the group. +Very slight in build, not tall, clean-shaven, with a high forehead +and sensitive lips, young Henry Martyn seemed a stripling beside the +flaming Arab. Yet Sabat, with all his sound and fury, was no match for +the swift-witted, clear-brained young Englishman. Henry Martyn was a +chaplain in the army of the East India Company, which then ruled in +India. + +He was the only one of those who were listening to Sabat who could +understand what he was saying. When Sabat had finished his story, +Martyn turned, and, in his clear, musical voice translated it from +the Persian into Latin mixed with Italian for Padre Julius Caesar, +into Hindustani for the Indian scholar, into Bengali for the Bengal +gentleman, and into English for the British officer and his wife. +Martyn could also talk to Sabat himself both in Arabic and in Persian. + +As Martyn listened to the rolling sentences of Sabat, the Christian +Arab, he seemed to see the lands beyond India, away across the Khyber +Pass, where Sabat had travelled--Mesopotamia, Arabia, Persia. + +Henry Martyn knew that in all those lands the people were Mohammedans. +He wanted one thing above everything else in the world: that was +to give them all the chance of doing what Sabat and Abdallah had +done--the chance of reading in their own languages the one book in the +world that could tell them that God was a Father--the book of letters +and of biographies that we call the New Testament. + + +_The Toil of Brain_ + +There was not in the world a copy of the New Testament in good +Persian. To make one Henry Martyn slaved hard, far into the hot, +sultry Indian nights, with scores of mosquitoes "pinging" round his +lamp and his head, grinding at his Persian grammar, so that he could +translate the life of Jesus Christ into that language. + +Even while he was listening to Sabat's story in the bungalow at +Cawnpore, Martyn knew that he was so ill that he could not live for +many years more. The doctor said that he must leave India for a time +to be in a healthier place. Should he go home to England, where all +his friends were? He wanted that; but much more he wanted to go on +with his work. So he asked the doctor if he might go to Persia on the +way home, and he agreed. + +So Martyn went down from Cawnpore to Calcutta, and in a boat down the +Hoogli river to the little Arab coasting sailing ship the _Hummoudi_, +which hoisted sail and started on its voyage round India to Bombay. +Martyn read while on board the Old Testament in the original Hebrew +and the New Testament in the original Greek, so that he might +understand them better and make a more perfect translation into +Persian. He read the Koran of Mohammed so that he could argue with +the Persians about it. And he worked hard at Arabic grammar, and read +books in Persian. Yet he was for ever cracking jokes with his fellow +travellers, cooped up in the little ship on the hot tropical seas. + +From Bombay the governor granted Martyn a passage up the Persian Gulf +in the _Benares_, a ship in the Indian Navy that was going on a cruise +to finish the exciting work of hunting down the fierce Arab pirates +of the Persian Gulf. So on Lady Day, 1811, the sailors got her under +weigh and tacked northward up the Gulf, till at last, on May 21, the +roofs and minarets of Bushire hove in sight. Martyn, leaning over the +bulwarks, could see the town jutting out into the Gulf on a spit of +sand and the sea almost surrounding it. That day he set foot for the +first time on the soil of Persia. + +_Across Persia on a Pony_ + +Aboard ship Martyn had allowed his beard and moustache to grow. When +he landed at Bushire he bought and wore the clothes of a Persian +gentleman, so that he should escape from attracting everybody's notice +by wearing clothes such as the people had never seen before. + +No one who had seen the pale, clean-shaven clergyman in black silk +coat and trousers in Cawnpore would have recognised the Henry +Martyn who rode out that night on his pony with an Armenian servant, +Zechariah of Isfahan, on his long one hundred and seventy mile journey +from Bushire to Shiraz. He wore a conical cap of black Astrakhan fur, +great baggy trousers of blue, bright red leather boots, a light tunic +of chintz, and over that a flowing cloak. + +They went out through the gates of Bushire on to the great plain of +burning sand that stretched away for ninety miles ahead of them. They +travelled by night, because the day was intolerably hot, but even at +midnight the heat was over 100 degrees. It was a fine moonlight night; +the stars sparkled over the plain. The bells tinkled on the mules' +necks as they walked across the sand. All else was silent. + +At last dawn broke. Martyn pitched his little tent under a tree, +the only shelter he could get. Gradually the heat grew more and more +intense. He was already so ill that it was difficult to travel. + +"When the thermometer was above 112 degrees--fever heat," says Martyn, +"I began to lose my strength fast. It became intolerable. I wrapped +myself up in a blanket and all the covering I could get to defend +myself from the air. By this means the moisture was kept a little +longer upon the body. I thought I should have lost my senses. The +thermometer at last stood at 126 degrees. I concluded that death was +inevitable." + +At last the sun went down: the thermometer crept lower: it was night +and time to start again. But Martyn had not slept or eaten. He could +hardly sit upright on his pony. Yet he set out and travelled on +through the night. + +Next morning he had a little shelter of leaves and branches made, and +an Arab poured water on the leaves and on Martyn all day to try to +keep some of the frightful heat from him. But even then the heat +almost slew him. So they marched on through another night and then +camped under a grove of date palms. + +"I threw myself on the burning ground and slept," Martyn wrote. "When +the tent came up I awoke in a burning fever. All day I had recourse to +the wet towel, which kept me alive, but would allow of no sleep." + +At nine that night they struck camp. The ground threw up the heat that +it had taken from the sun during the day. So frightfully hot was the +air that even at midnight Martyn could not travel without a wet towel +round his face and neck. + +As the night drew on the plain grew rougher: then it began to rise +to the foothills and mountains. At last the pony and mules were +clambering up rough steep paths so wild that there was (as Martyn +said) "nothing to mark the road but the rocks being a little more +worn in one place than in another." Suddenly in the darkness the pony +stopped; dimly through the gloom Martyn could see that they were on +the edge of a tremendous precipice. A single step more would have +plunged him over, to be smashed on the rocks hundreds of feet below. +Martyn did not move or try to guide the beast: he knew that the pony +himself was the safest guide. In a minute or two the animal moved, and +step by step clambered carefully up the rock-strewn mountain-side. + +At last they came out on the mountain top, but only to find that they +were on the edge of a flat high plain--a tableland. The air was pure +and fresher; the mules and the travellers revived. Martyn's pony began +to trot briskly along. So, as dawn came up, they came in sight of a +great courtyard built by the king of that country to refresh pilgrims. + +Through night after night they tramped, across plateau and mountain +range, till they climbed the third range, and then plunged by a +winding rocky path into a wide valley where, at a great town called +Kazrun, in a garden of cypress trees was a summer-house. + +Martyn lay down on the floor but could not sleep, though he was +horribly weary. "There seemed," he said, "to be fire within my head, +my skin like a cinder." His heart beat like a hammer. + +They went on climbing another range of mountains, first tormented +by mosquitoes, then frozen with cold; Martyn was so overwhelmed with +sleep that he could not sit on his pony and had to hurry ahead to keep +awake and then sit down with his back against a rock where he fell +asleep in a second, and had to be shaken to wake up when Zechariah, +the Armenian mule driver, came up to where he was. + +They had at last climbed the four mountain rungs of the ladder to +Persia, and came out on June 11th, 1811, on the great plain where the +city of Shiraz stands. Here he found the host Jaffir Ali Khan, to whom +he carried his letters of introduction. Martyn in his Persian dress, +seated on the ground, was feasted with curries and rice, sweets cooled +with snow and perfumed with rose water, and coffee. + +Ali Khan had a lovely garden of orange trees, and in the garden Martyn +sat. Ill as he was, he worked day in and day out to translate the life +of Jesus Christ in the New Testament from the Greek language into +pure and simple Persian. The kind host put up a tent for Martyn in the +garden, close to some beautiful vines, from which hung lovely bunches +of purple grapes. By the side of his tent ran a clear stream +of running water. All the evening nightingales sang sweetly and +mournfully. + +As he sat there at his work, men came hundreds of miles to talk with +this holy man, as they felt him to be. Moslems--they yet travelled +even from Baghdad and Bosra and Isfahan to hear this "infidel" speak +of Jesus Christ, and to argue as to which was the true religion. +Prince Abbas Mirza invited him to come to speak with him; and as +Martyn entered the Prince's courtyard a hundred fountains began to +send up jets of water in his honour. + +At last they came to him in such numbers that Martyn was obliged to +say to many of them that he could not see them. He hated sending them +away. What was it forced him to do so? + +_The Race against Time_ + +It was because he was running a race against time. He knew that he +could not live very long, because the disease that had smitten his +lungs was gaining ground every day. And the thing that he had come +to Persia for--the object that had made him face the long voyage, +the frightful heat and the freezing cold of the journey, the life +thousands of miles from his home in Cornwall--was that he might finish +such a translation of the New Testament into Persian that men should +love to read years and years after he had died. + +So each day Martyn finished another page or two of the book, written +in lovely Persian letters. He began the work within a week of reaching +Shiraz, and in seven months (February, 1812) it was finished. Three +more months were spent in writing out very beautiful copies of the +whole of the New Testament in this new translation, to be presented to +the Shah of Persia and to the heir to the throne, Prince Abbas Mirza. + +Then he started away on a journey right across Persia to find the Shah +and Prince so that he might give his precious books to them. On the +way he fell ill with great fever; he was so weak and giddy that he +could not stand. One night his head ached so that it almost drove him +mad; he shook all over with fever; then a great sweat broke out. He +was almost unconscious with weakness, but at midnight when the call +came to start he mounted his horse and, as he says, "set out, rather +dead than alive." So he pressed on in great weakness till he reached +Tabriz, and there met the British Ambassador. + +Martyn was rejoiced, and felt that all his pains were repaid when Sir +Gore Ouseley said that he himself would present the Sacred Book to +the Shah and the Prince. When the day came to give the book to Prince +Abbas, poor Henry Martyn was so weak that he could not rise from his +bed. Before the other copy could be presented to the Shah, Martyn had +died. This is how it came about. + + +_The Last Trail_ + +His great work was done. The New Testament was finished. He sent a +copy to the printers in India. He could now go home to England and +try to get well again. He started out on horseback with two Armenian +servants and a Turkish guide. He was making along the old track that +has been the road from Asia to Europe for thousands of years. His plan +was to travel across Persia, through Armenia and over the Black Sea to +Constantinople, and so back to England. + +For forty-five days he moved on, often going as much as ninety miles, +and generally as much as sixty in a day. He slept in filthy inns where +fleas and lice abounded and mosquitoes tormented him. Horses, cows, +buffaloes and sheep would pass through his sleeping-room, and the +stench of the stables nearly poisoned him. Yet he was so ill that +often he could hardly keep his seat on his horse. + +He travelled through deep ravines and over high mountain passes and +across vast plains. His head ached till he felt it would split; he +could not eat; fever came on. He shook with ague. Yet his remorseless +Turkish guide, Hassan, dragged him along, because he wanted to get the +journey over and go back home. + +At last one day Martyn got rest on damp ground in a hovel, his eyes +and forehead feeling as though a great fire burnt in them. "I was +almost frantic," he wrote. Martyn was, in fact, dying; yet Hassan +compelled him to ride a hundred and seventy miles of mountain track to +Tokat. Here, on October 6th, 1812, he wrote in his journal: + +"No horses to be had, I had an unexpected repose. I sat in the orchard +and thought with sweet comfort and peace of my God--in solitude my +Company, my Friend, my Comforter." + +It was the last word he was ever to write. + +Alone, without a human friend by him, he fell asleep. But the book +that he had written with his life-blood, the Persian New Testament, +was printed, and has told thousands of Persians in far places, where +no Christian man has penetrated, that story of the love of God that is +shown in Jesus Christ. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 62: See Chapter XXIII.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE MOSES OF THE ASSYRIANS + +_William Ambrose Shedd_ + +(1865-1918) + + +I + +A dark-haired American with black, penetrating eyes that looked you +steadily in the face, and sparkled with light when he laughed, sat on +a chair in a hall in 1918 in the ancient city of Urumia in the land of +Assyria where Persia and Turkey meet. + +His face was as brown with the sunshine of this eastern land as were +the wrinkled faces of the turbaned Assyrian village men who stood +before him. For he was born out here in Persia on Mount Seir.[63] +And he had lived here as a boy and a man, save for the time when his +splendid American father had sent him to Marietta, Ohio, for some of +his schooling, and to Princeton for his final training. His dark brown +moustache and short beard covered a firm mouth and a strong chin. +His vigorous expression and his strongly Roman nose added to the +commanding effect of his presence. + +A haunting terror had driven these ragged village people into the city +of Urumia, to ask help of this wonderful American leader whom they +almost worshipped because he was so strong and just and good. + +For the bloodthirsty Turks and the even more cruel and wilder Kurds +of the mountains were marching on the land. The Great War was raging +across the world and even the hidden peoples of this distant mountain +land were swept into its terrible flames. + +For Urumia city lies to the west of the southern end of the extremely +salt lake of the same name. It is about 150 miles west from the +Caspian Sea and the same distance north of the site of ancient +Nineveh. It stands on a small plain and in that tangle of lakes, +mountains and valley-plains where the ambitions of Russia, Persia and +Turkey have met, and where the Assyrians (Christians of one of the +most ancient churches in the world, which in the early centuries had +a chain of missions from Constantinople right across Asia to Peking), +the Kurds (wild, fierce Moslems), the Persians, the Turks and the +Russians struggled together. + +In front of Dr. William Ambrose Shedd there stood an old man from +the villages. His long grey hair and beard and his wrinkled face were +agitated as he told the American his story. The old man's dress was +covered with patches--an eyewitness counted thirty-seven patches--all +of different colours on one side of his cloak and loose baggy +trousers. + +"My field in my village I cannot plough," he said, "for we have no ox. +The Kurds have taken our possessions, you are our father. Grant us an +ox to plough and draw for us." + +Dr. Shedd saw that the old man spoke truth; he scribbled a few words +on a slip of paper and the old man went out satisfied. + +So for hour after hour, men and women from all the country round +came to this strange missionary who had been asked by the American +Government to administer relief, yes, and to be the Consul +representing America itself in that great territory. + +They came to him from the villages where, around the fire in the +Khans at night, men still tell stories of him as one of the great +hero-leaders of their race. These are the kind of stories that they +tell of the courage and the gentleness of this man who--while he was a +fine American scholar--yet knew the very heart of the Eastern peoples +in northwestern Persia as no American has ever done in all our +history. + +"One day," says one old village Assyrian greybeard, "Dr. Shedd was +sitting at meat in his house when his servant, Meshadi, ran into the +room crying, 'The Kurds have been among our people. They have taken +three girls, three Christian girls, and are carrying them off. They +have just passed the gate.' The Kurds were all bristling with daggers +and pistols. Dr. Shedd simply picked up the cane that he holds in his +hand when he walks. He hurried out of the house with Meshadi, ran up +the hill to the Kurd village that lies there, entered, said to the +fierce Kurds, 'Give back those girls to us.' And they, as they looked +into his face, could not resist him though they were armed and he was +not. So they gave the Assyrian girls back to him and he led them down +the hill to their homes." + +So he also stood single-handed between Turks and five hundred +Assyrians who had taken refuge in the missionary compound, and stopped +the Turks from massacring the Christians. + +But even as he worked in this way the tide of the great war flowed +towards Urumia. The people there were mostly Assyrians with some +Armenians; they were Christians. They looked southward across the +mountains to the British Army there in Mesopotamia for aid. + +But, as the Assyrians looked up from Urumia to the north they could +already see the first Turks coming down upon the city. Thousands upon +thousands of the Assyrians from the country villages crowded into the +city and into the American missionary compound, till actually even in +the mission school-rooms they were sleeping three deep--one lot on the +floor, another lot on the seats of the desks and a third on the top of +the desks themselves. + +"Hold on; resist; the help of the British will come," said Dr. Shedd +to the people. "Agha Petros with a thousand of our men has gone to +meet the British and he will come back with them and will throw back +the Turks." + +The Turks and the Kurds came on from the north; many of the Armenian +and Assyrian men were out across the plains to the east getting in the +harvest; and no sign of succour came from the south. + + +II + +Through the fierce hot days of July the people held on because Dr. +Shedd said that they must; but at last on the afternoon of July 30th +there came over all the people a strange irresistible panic. They +gathered all their goods together and piled them in wagons--food, +clothes, saucepans, jewelry, gold, silver, babies, old women, +mothers,--all were huddled and jumbled together. + +The wagons creaked, the oxen lurched down the roads to the south, the +little children cried with hunger and fright, the boys trudged +along rather excited at the adventure yet rather scared at the awful +hullabaloo and the strange feeling of horror of the cruel Kurdish +horsemen and of the crafty Turk. + +Dr. Shedd made one last vain effort to persuade the people to hold on +to their city; but it was impossible--they had gone, as it seemed, mad +with fright. + +He and his wife went to bed that night but not to sleep. At two +o'clock the telephone bell rang. + +"The Turks and Kurds are advancing; all the people are leaving," came +the message. + +"It is impossible to hold on any longer," said Dr. Shedd to his wife. +"I will go and tell all in the compound. You get things ready." + +Mrs. Shedd got up and began to collect what was needed: she packed +up food (bread, tea, sugar, nuts, raisins and so on), a frying pan, +a kettle, a saucepan, water jars, saddles, extra horse-shoes, ropes, +lanterns, a spade and bedding. By 7.30 the baggage wagon and two +Red Cross carts were ready. Dr. Shedd and Mrs. Shedd got up into the +wagon; the driver cried to his horses and they started. + +As they went out of the city on the south the Turks and Kurds came +raging in on the north. Within two hours the Turks and Kurds were +crashing into houses and burning them to the ground; but most of +the people had gone--for Dr. Shedd was practically the last to leave +Urumia. + +Ahead of them were the Armenians and Syrians in flight. They came to +a little bridge--a mass of sticks with mud thrown over them. Here, and +at every bridge, pandemonium reigned. This is how Mrs. Shedd describes +the scene: + +"The jam at every bridge was indescribable confusion. Every kind of +vehicle that you could imagine--ox carts, buffalo wagons, Red Cross +carts, troikas, foorgans like prairie schooners, hay-wagons, Russian +phaetons and many others invented and fitted up for the occasion. The +animals--donkeys, horses, buffaloes, oxen, cows with their calves, +mules and herds of thousands of sheep and goats." + +All through the day they moved on, at the end of the procession--Dr. +Shedd, planning out how he could best get his people safely away from +the Turks who--he knew--would soon come pursuing them down the plain +to the mountains. Night fell and they were in a long line of wagons +close to a narrow bridge built by the Russians across the Baranduz +river. They had come some eighteen miles from Urumia. + +So they lay down in the wagons to try to sleep. But they could not and +at two o'clock in the night they moved on, crossed the river and drove +on for hour after hour toward the mountains that rose in a wall before +them. + +The poor horses were not strong so the wagon had to be lightened. +Assyrian boys took loads on their heads and trudged up the rocky +mountain road while the wagon jolted and groaned as it bumped its way +along. The trail of the mountain pass was littered with samovars (tea +urns), copper kettles, carpets, bedding; and here and there the body +of someone who had died on the way. At the very top of the pass lay a +baby thrown aside there and just drawing its last breath. + +So for two days they jolted on hardly getting an hour's sleep. At last +at midday on the third day they left Hadarabad at the south end of +Lake Urumia. Two hours later the sound of booming guns was heard. A +horseman galloped up. + +"The Turks are in Hadarabad," he said. "They are attacking the rear of +the procession." + +"It seemed," said Mrs. Shedd, "as if at any moment we should hear the +screams of those behind, as the enemy fell upon them." + +The wagons hurried on to the next town called Memetyar and there Dr. +Shedd waited, lightening his own wagons by throwing away everything +that they could spare--oil, potatoes, charcoal, every box except his +Bible and a small volume of Browning's Poems. + +Then they started again, along a road that was littered with the +discarded goods of the people. Then they saw on the road-side a little +baby girl that had been left by her parents. She was not a year old +and sat there all alone in a desolate spot. Left to die. Dr. Shedd +looked at his wife and she at him. + +He pulled up the horse and jumped down, picked up the baby and put her +in the wagon. They went along till they came to a large village. Here +they found a Kurdish mother. + +"Take care of this little girl till we come back," said Dr. Shedd, +"and here is some money for looking after her. We will give you more +when we come back if she is well looked after." + + +III + +Suddenly cannon were fired from the mountains and the people in +panic threw away their goods and hurried in a frenzy of fear down the +mountain passes. They passed on to the plain, and then as they were +in a village guns began to be fired. Three hundred Turks and Persians +were attacking under Majdi--Sultana of Urumia. Dr. Shedd, riding his +horse, gathered together some Armenian and Assyrian men with guns and +stayed with them to help them hold back the enemy, while the women +drove on. He was a good target sitting up there on his horse; but +without thinking of his own danger he kept his men at it. For he felt +like a shepherd with a great flock of fleeing sheep whom it was his +duty to protect. + +Panic seized the people. Strong men left their old mothers to die. +Mothers dropped their babies and ran. + +"One of my school-girls," Mrs. Shedd says, "afterward told me how she +had left her baby on the bank and waded with an older child through +the river when the enemy were coming after them. She couldn't carry +both. The memory of her deserted baby is always with her." + +The line of the refugees stretched for miles along the road. The enemy +fired from behind boulders on the mountain sides. The Armenians and +Syrians fired back from the road or ran up the mountains to chase +them. It was hopeless to think of driving the enemy off but Dr. +Shedd's object was to hold them off till help came. So he went up and +down on his horse encouraging the men; while the bullets whizzed over +the wagons. + +"I feared," said Mrs. Shedd, "that the enemy might get the better of +us and we should have to leave the carts and run for our lives. While +they were plundering the wagons and the loads we would get away. I +looked about me to see what we might carry. There was little May, +six years old (the daughter of one of their Syrian teachers) who had +unconcernedly curled herself up on the seat for a nap. I wrapped a +little bread in a cloth, put my glasses in my pocket, and took the bag +of money so that I should be ready on a moment's notice for Dr. Shedd +if they should swoop down upon us." + +All day long the firing went on from the mountain side as the tired +horses pulled along the rough trail. The sun began to sink toward the +horizon. What would happen in the darkness? + +Then they saw ahead of them coming from the south a group of men in +khaki. They were nine British Tommies with three Lewis guns under +Captain Savage. They had come ahead from the main body that had moved +up from Baghdad in order to defend the rear of the great procession. +The little company of soldiers passed on and the procession moved +forward. That tiny company of nine British Tommies ten miles farther +on was attacked by hundreds of Turks. All day they held the road, like +Horatius on the bridge, till at night the Cavalry came up and drove +off the enemy, and at last the Shedds reached the British camp. + +"Why are you right at the tail end of the retreat?" asked one of the +Syrian young men who had hurried forward into safety. + +"I would much rather be there," said Dr. Shedd with some scorn in +his voice, "than like you, leave the unarmed, the sick, the weak, the +women and the children to the mercy of the enemy." + +He was rejoiced that the British had come. + +"There was," said Mrs. Shedd, "a ring in his voice, a light in his +eyes, a buoyancy in his step that I had not seen for months." + +He had shepherded his thousands and thousands of boys and girls, and +men and women through the mountains into the protection of the British +squadron of troops. + + +IV + +Later that day Dr. Shedd began to feel the frightful heat of the +August day so exhausting that he had to lie down in the cart, which +had a canvas cover open at both ends and was therefore much cooler +than a tent. He got more and more feverish. So Mrs. Shedd got the +Assyrian boys to take out the baggage and she made up a bed for him on +the floor of the cart. + +The English doctor was out with the cavalry who were holding back and +dispersing the Turkish force. + +Then a British officer came and said: "We are moving the camp forward +under the protection of the mountains." + +It was late afternoon. The cart moved forward into the gathering +darkness. Mrs. Shedd crouched beside her husband on the floor of the +cart attending to him, expecting the outriders to tell her when they +came to the British Camp. + +For hours the cart rolled and jolted over the rough mountain roads. At +last it stopped, it was so dark they could not see the road. They were +in a gully and could not go forward. + +"Where is the British camp?" asked Mrs. Shedd. + +"We passed it miles back on the road," was the reply. + +It was a terrible blow: the doctor, the medicines, the comfort, the +nursing that would have helped Dr. Shedd were all miles away and he +was so ill that it was impossible to drive him back over that rough +mountain track in the inky darkness of the night. + +There was nothing to do but just stay where they were, send a +messenger to the camp for the doctor, and wait for the morning. + +"Only a few drops of oil were left in the lantern," Mrs. Shedd tells +us, "but I lighted it and looked at Mr. Shedd. I could see that he was +very sick indeed and asked two of the men to go back for the doctor. +It was midnight before the doctor reached us. + +"The men," Mrs. Shedd continues, "set fire to a deserted cart left +by the refugees and this furnished fire and light all night. They +arranged for guards in turn and lay down to rest on the roadside. +Hour after hour I crouched in the cart beside my husband massaging his +limbs when cramps attacked him, giving him water frequently, for while +he was very cold to the touch, he seemed feverish. We heated the hot +water bottle for his feet, and made coffee for him at the blaze; we +had no other nourishment. He got weaker and weaker, and a terrible +fear tugged at my heart. + +"Fifty thousand hunted, terror-stricken refugees had passed on; the +desolate, rocky mountains loomed above us, darkness was all about us +and heaven seemed too far away for prayer to reach. A deserted baby +wailed all night not far away. When the doctor came he gave two +hypodermic injections and returned to the camp saying we should wait +there for him to catch up to us in the morning. After the injections +Mr. Shedd rested better but he did not again regain consciousness. + +"When the light began to reveal things, I could see the awful change +in his face, but I could not believe that he was leaving me. Shortly +after light the men told me that we could not wait as they heard +fighting behind and it was evident the English were attacked, so in +his dying hour we had to take him over the rough, stony road. After +an hour or two Capt. Reed and the doctor caught up to us. We drew the +cart to the side of the road where soon he drew a few short, sharp +breaths--and I was alone." + +So the British officers, with a little hoe, on the mountain side dug +the grave of this brave American shepherd, who had given his life +in defending the Assyrian flock from the Turkish wolf. They made the +grave just above the road beside a rock; and on it they sprinkled dead +grass so that it might not be seen and polluted by the enemy. + + * * * * * + +The people Dr. Shedd loved were safe. The enemy, whose bullets he had +braved for day after day, was defeated by the British soldiers. But +the great American leader, whose tired body had not slept while the +Assyrians and Armenians were being hunted through the mountains, lies +there dreamless on the mountain side. + +These are words that broke from the lips of Assyrian sheiks when they +heard of his death: + +"He bore the burdens of the whole nation upon his shoulders to the +last breath of his life. + +"As long as we obeyed his advice and followed his lead we were safe +and prosperous, but when we ceased to do that destruction came upon +us. He was, and ever will be, the Moses of the Assyrian people." + +He lies there where his heart always was--in that land in which the +Turk, the Assyrian, the Armenian, the Persian, the Russian and the +Arab meet; he is there waiting for the others who will go out and +take up the work that he has left, the work of carrying to all those +eastern peoples the love of the Christ whom Dr. Shedd died in serving. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 63: Born January 25th, 1865. Graduated Marietta College, +Ohio, 1887, and Princeton Theological Seminary, 1892.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +AN AMERICAN NURSE IN THE GREAT WAR + +_E.D. Cushman_ + +(Time 1914-1920) + + +_The Turk in Bed_ + +The cold, clear sunlight of a winter morning on the high plateau of +Asia Minor shone into the clean, white ward of a hospital in Konia +(the greatest city in the heart of that land). The hospital in which +the events that I am going to tell in this story happened is supported +by Christian folk in America, and was established by two American +medical missionaries, Dr. William S. Dodd, and Dr. Wilfred Post, with +Miss Cushman, the head nurse, sharing the general superintendence: +other members of the staff are Haralambos, their Armenian dispenser +and druggist, and Kleoniki, a Greek nurse trained by Miss Cushman. The +author spent the early spring of 1914 at the hospital in Konia, when +all the people named above were at work there. + +The tinkle of camel-bells as a caravan of laden beasts swung by, the +quick pad-pad of donkeys' hoofs, the howl of a Turkish dog, the cry +of a child--these and other sounds of the city came through the open +window of the ward. + +On a bed in the corner of the ward lay a bearded man--a Turk--who +lived in this ancient city of Konia (the Iconium of St. Paul's day). +His brown face and grizzled beard were oddly framed in the white of +the spotless pillow and sheets. + +His face turned to the door as it opened and the matron entered. The +eyes of the Turk as he lay there followed her as she walked toward +one of her deft, gentle-handed assistant nurses who, in their neat +uniforms with their olive-brown faces framed in dark hair, went +from bed to bed tending the patients; giving medicine to a boy +here, shaking up a pillow for a sick man there, taking a patient's +temperature yonder. Those skilled nurses were Armenian girls. The +Armenians are a Christian nation, who have been ruled by the Turks for +centuries and often have been massacred by them; yet these Armenian +girls were nursing the Turks in the hospital. But the matron of the +hospital was not a Turk, nor an Armenian. She had come four thousand +miles across the sea to heal the Turks and the Armenians in this land. +She was an American. + +The Turk in bed turned his eyes from the nurses to a picture on the +wall. A frown came on his face. He began to mutter angry words into +his beard. + +As a Turk he had always been taught, even as a little boy, that the +great Prophet Mohammed had told them they must have no pictures of +prophets, and he knew from what he had heard that the picture on the +wall showed the face of a prophet. It was a picture of a man with a +kind, strong face, dressed in garments of the lands of the East, and +wearing a short beard. He was stooping down healing a little child. It +was our Lord Jesus Christ the Great Physician. + +As Miss Cushman--for that was the name of the matron--moved toward his +bed, the Turk burst into angry speech. + +"Have that picture taken down," he said roughly, pointing to it. She +turned to look at the picture and then back at him, and said words +like these: "No, that is the picture of Jesus, the great Doctor who +lived long ago and taught the people that God is Love. It is because +He taught that, and has called me to follow in His steps, that I am +here to help to heal you." + +But the Turk, who was not used to having women disobey his commands, +again ordered angrily that the picture should be taken down. But the +American missionary-nurse said gently, but firmly: "No, the picture +must stay there to remind us of Jesus. If you cannot endure to see +the picture there, then if you wish you may leave the hospital, of +course." + +And so she passed on. The Turk lay in his bed and thought it over. He +wished to get well. If the doctors in this hospital--Dr. Dodd and +Dr. Post--did not attend him, and if the nurses did not give him his +medicine, he would not. He therefore decided to make no more fuss +about the picture. So he lay looking at it, and was rather surprised +to find in a few days that he liked to see it there, and that he +wanted to hear more and more about the great Prophet-Doctor, Jesus. + +Then he had another tussle of wills with Miss Cushman, the white +nurse from across the seas. It came about in this way. Women who are +Mohammedans keep their faces veiled, but the Armenian Christian nurses +had their faces uncovered. + +"Surely they are shameless women," he thought in his heart. "And they +are Armenians too--Christian infidels!" So he began to treat them +rudely. But the white nurse would not stand that. + +Miss Cushman went and stood by his bed and said: "I want you to +remember that these nurses of mine are here to help you to get well. +They are to you even as daughters tending their father; and you must +behave to them as a good father to good daughters." + +So the Turk lay in bed and thought about that also. It took him a +long time to take it in, for he had always been taught to hate the +Armenians and to think low thoughts about their womenfolk. But in the +end he learnt that lesson also. + +At last the Turk got well, left his bed, and went away. He was so +thankful that he was better that he was ready to do just anything in +the world that Miss Cushman wanted him to do. The days passed on in +the hospital, and always the white nurse from across the seas and the +Armenian nurses tended the Turkish and other patients, and healed them +through the heats of that summer. + + +_War and Massacre_ + +As summer came near to its end there broke on the world the dreadful +day when all Europe went to war. Miss Cushman's colleagues, the +American doctors at the hospital, left Konia for service in the +war. Soon Turkey entered the war. The fury of the Turks against the +Armenians burst out into a flame. You might see in Konia two or three +Turks sitting in the shadow of a little saddler's shop by the street +smoking their hubble-bubble water-pipes, and saying words like these: + +"The Armenians are plotting to help the enemies of Turkey. We shall +have to kill them all." + +"Yes, wipe them out--the accursed infidels!" + +The Turks hate the Armenians because their religion, Islam, teaches +them to hate the "infidel" Christians; they are of a foreign race and +foreign religion in countries ruled by Turks, though the Armenians +were there first, and the Armenians are cleverer business men than the +Turks, who hate to see their subjects richer than themselves, and hope +by massacre to seize Armenian wealth. + +Yet all the time, as the wounded Turks were sent from the Gallipoli +front back to Konia, the Armenian nurses in the hospital there were +healing them. But the Turkish Government gave its orders. Vile bands +of Turkish soldiers rushed down on the different cities and villages +of the Armenians.[64] One sunny morning a troop of Turkish soldiers +came dashing into a quiet little Armenian town among the hills. An +order was given. The Turks smashed in the doors of the houses. A +father stood up before his family; a bayonet was driven through him +and soldiers dashed over his dead body; they looted the house; they +smashed up his home; others seized the mother and the daughters--the +mother had a baby in her arms; the baby was flung on the ground and +then picked up dead on the point of a bayonet; and, though the mother +and daughters were not bayoneted then, it would have been better to +die at once than to suffer the unspeakable horrors that came to them. + +And that happened in hundreds of villages and cities to hundred of +thousands of Armenians, while hundreds of thousands more scattered +down the mountain passes in flight towards Konia. + + +_The Orphan Boys and Girls_ + +As Miss Cushman and her Armenian nurses looked out through the windows +of the hospital, their hearts were sad as they saw some of these +Armenian refugees trailing along the road like walking skeletons. What +was to happen to them? It was very dangerous for anyone to show that +they were friends with the Armenians, but the white matron was as +brave as she was kind; so she went out to do what she could to help +them. + +One day she saw a little boy so thin that the bones seemed almost to +be coming through his skin. He was very dirty; his hair was all matted +together; and there were bugs and fleas in his clothes and in his +hair. The hospital was so full that not another could be taken in. But +the boy would certainly die if he were not looked after properly. His +father and his mother had both been slain by the Turks; he did not +know where his brothers were. He was an orphan alone in all the world. + +Miss Cushman knew Armenian people in Konia, and she went to one of +these homes and told them about the poor boy and arranged to pay them +some money for the cost of his food. So she made a new home for him. +The next day she found another boy, and then a girl, and so she went +on and on, discovering little orphan Armenian boys and girls who had +nobody to care for them, and finding them homes--until she had over +six hundred orphans being cared for. It is certain that nearly all of +them would have died if she had not looked after them. + +So Miss Cushman gathered the six hundred Armenian children together +into an orphanage, that was half for the boys and half for the girls. +She was a hundred times better than the "Woman who Lived in a Shoe," +because, though she had so many children, she _did_ know what to +do. She taught them to make nearly everything for themselves. In the +mornings you would see half the boys figuring away at their sums or +learning to write and read, while the other boys were hammering and +sawing and planing at the carpenter's bench; cutting leather and +sewing it to make shoes for the other boys and girls; cutting petrol +tins up into sheets to solder into kettles and saucepans; and cutting +and stitching cloth to make clothes. A young American Red Cross +officer who went to see them wrote home, "The kids look happy and +healthy and as clean as a whistle." + + +_The People on the Plain_ + +As Miss Cushman looked out again from the hospital window she saw men +coming from the country into the city jogging along on little donkeys. + +"In the villages all across the plain," they said to her, "are +Armenian boys and girls, and men and women. They are starving. Many +are without homes, wandering about in rags till they simply lie down +on the ground, worn out, and die." + +Miss Cushman sent word to friends far away in America, and they sent +food from America to Turkey in ships, and a million dollars of money +to help the starving children. So Miss Cushman got together her boys +and girls and some other helpers, and soon they were very busy all day +and every day wrapping food and clothes into parcels. + +Next a caravan of snorting camels came swinging in to the courtyard +and, grumbling and rumbling, knelt down, to be loaded up. The parcels +were done up in big bales and strapped on to the camels' backs. Then +at a word from the driver the camels rose from their knees and went +lurching out from Konia into the country, over the rough, rolling +tracks, to carry to the people the food and clothes that would keep +them alive. + +The wonderful thing is that these camels were led by a Turk belonging +to the people who hate the Armenians, yet he was carrying food and +clothes to them! Why did this Turk in Konia go on countless journeys, +travelling over thousands of miles with tens of thousands of parcels +containing wheat for bread and new shirts and skirts and other clothes +for the Armenians whom he had always hated, and never lose a single +parcel? + +Why did he do it? + +This is the reason. Before the war when he was ill in the hospital +Miss Cushman had nursed him with the help of her Armenian girls, and +had made him better; he was so thankful that he would just run to do +anything that she wished him to do. + + +_To Stay or not to Stay?_ + +But at last Miss Cushman--worn out with all this work--fell ill with +a terrible fever. For some time it was not certain that she would not +die of it; for a whole month she lay sick in great weakness. President +Wilson had at this time broken off relations between America and +Turkey. The Turk now thought of the American as an enemy; and Miss +Cushman was an American. She was in peril. What was she to do? + +"It is not safe to stay," said her friends. "You will be practically a +prisoner of war. You will be at the mercy of the Turks. You know what +the Turk is--as treacherous as he is cruel. They can, if they wish, +rob you or deport you anywhere they like. Go now while the path is +open--before it is too late. You are in the very middle of Turkey, +hundreds of miles from any help. The dangers are terrible." + +As soon as she was well enough Miss Cushman went to the Turkish +Governor of Konia, a bitter Mohammedan who had organised the massacre +of forty thousand Armenians, to say that she had been asked to go back +to America. + +"What shall you do if I stay?" she asked. + +"I beg you to stay," said the Governor. "You shall be protected. You +need have no fear." + +"Your words are beautiful," she replied. "But if American and Turkey +go to war you will deport me." + +If she stayed she knew the risks under his rule. She was still weak +from her illness. There was no colleague by her side to help her. +There seemed to be every reason why she should sail away back to +America. But as she sat thinking it over she saw before her the +hospital full of wounded soldiers, the six hundred orphans who looked +to her for help, the plain of a hundred villages to which she was +sending food. No one could take her place. + +Yet she was weak and tired after her illness and, in America, rest and +home, friends and safety called to her. + +"It was," she wrote later to her friends, "a heavy problem to know +what to do with the orphans and other helpless people who depended on +me for life." + +What would you have done? What do you think she did? For what reason +should she face these perils? + +Not in the heat of battle, but in cool quiet thought, all alone among +enemies, she saw her path and took it. She did not count her life her +own. She was ready to give her life for her friends of all nations. +She decided to stay in the heart of the enemies' country and serve her +God and the children. Many a man has had the cross of Honour for an +act that called for less calm courage. That deed showed her to be one +of the great undecorated heroes and heroines of the lonely path. + +So she stayed on. + +From all over the Turkish Empire prisoners were sent to Konia. There +was great confusion in dealing with them, so the people of Konia +asked Miss Cushman to look after them; they even wrote to the Turkish +Government at Constantinople to tell them to write to her to invite +her to do this work. There was a regular hue and cry that she should +be appointed, because everyone knew her strong will, her power of +organising, her just treatment, her good judgment, and her loving +heart. So at last she accepted the invitation. Prisoners of eleven +different nationalities she helped--including British, French, +Italian, Russian, Indians and Arabs. She arranged for the nursing of +the sick, the feeding of the hungry, the freeing of some from prison. + +She went on right through the war to the end and beyond the end, +caring for her orphans, looking after the sick in hospital, sending +food and clothes to all parts of the country, helping the prisoners. +Without caring whether they were British or Turkish, Armenian or +Indian, she gave her help to those who needed it. And because of her +splendid courage thousands of boys and girls and men and women are +alive and well, who--without her--would have starved and frozen to +death. + +To-day, in and around Konia (an Army officer who has been there tells +us), the people do not say, "If Allah wills," but "If Miss Cushman +wills!" It is that officer's way of letting us see how, through her +brave daring, her love, and her hard work, that served everybody, +British, Armenian, Turk, Indian, and Arab, she has become the +uncrowned Queen of Konia, whose bidding all the people do because she +only cares to serve them, not counting her own life dear to her. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 64: In reading this part of the story to younger children +discretion should be exercised. Some of the details on this page are +horrible; but it is right that older children should realize the evil +and how Miss Cushman's courage faced it.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +ON THE DESERT CAMEL TRAIL + +_Archibald Forder_ + +(Time of Incident 1900-1901) + + +_The Boy Who Listened_ + +An eight-year-old schoolboy sat one evening in a crowded meeting in +Salisbury, his eyes wide open with wonder as he heard a bronzed and +bearded man on the platform telling of his adventures in Africa. The +man was Robert Moffat. + +It was a hot summer night in August (1874). The walls of the building +where the meeting was held seemed to have disappeared and the boy +Archibald Forder could in imagination see "the plain of a thousand +villages," that Livingstone had seen when this same Robert Moffat had +called him to Africa many years before. As the boy Archibald heard +Moffat he too wished to go out into the foreign field. Many things +happened as he grew up; but he never forgot that evening. + +At the age of thirteen he left home and was apprenticed to the grocery +and baking business. In 1888 he married. At this time he read in a +magazine about missionary work in Kerak beyond the River Jordan--in +Moab among the Arabs--where a young married man ready to rough it was +needed. He sailed with his wife for Kerak on September 3, 1891, and +left Jerusalem by camel on September 30, on the four days' journey +across Jordan to Kerak. Three times they were robbed by brigands on +this journey. Mr. Forder worked there till 1896. He then left +and travelled through America to secure support for an attempt to +penetrate Central Arabia with the first effort to carry the Gospel of +Jesus Christ there. + +The story that follows tells how Forder made his pioneer journey into +the Arabian desert. + + +_The Adventure into the Desert_ + +Two pack-horses were stamping their hoofs impatiently outside a house +in Jerusalem in the early morning a week or two before Christmas.[65] +Inside the house a man was saying good-bye to his wife and his three +children. He was dressed as an Arab, with a long scarf wrapped about +his head and on the top the black rope of twisted goats' hair that the +Arab puts on when he becomes a man. + +"Will you be long, Father?" asked his little four-year-old boy. + +The father could not answer, for he was going out from Jerusalem for +hundreds of miles into the sun and the thirst of the desert, to the +land of the fiercest Arabs--Moslems whose religion tells them that +they must kill the infidel Christians. It was difficult to tear +himself from his wife and his children and go out to face death in +the desert. But he had come out here to carry to the Arab the story of +Jesus Christ, who Himself had died on a Cross outside this very city. + +So he kissed his little boy "good-bye," wrenched himself away, climbed +on top of the load on one of the pack horses and rode out through the +gate into the unknown. He thought as his horses picked their way down +the road from Jerusalem toward Jericho of how Jesus Christ had been +put to death in this very land. Over his left shoulder he saw the +slopes of the Mount of Olives; down below across the ravine on his +right was the Garden of Gethsemane. In a short time he was passing +through Bethany where Mary and Martha lived. Down the steep winding +road amongst the rocks he went, and took a cup of cold water at the +inn of the Good Samaritan. + +Then with the Wilderness of Desolation stretching its tawny tumbled +desert hills away to the left, he moved onward, down and down until +the road came out a thousand feet below sea-level among the huts and +sheepfolds of Jericho, where he slept that night. + +With his face toward the dawn that came up over the hills of Moab in +the distance, he was off again over the plain with the Dead Sea on +his right, across the swiftly flowing Jordan, and climbing the ravines +that lead into the mountains of Gilead. + +That night he stayed with a Circassian family in a little house of +only one room into which were crowded his two horses, a mule, two +donkeys, a yoke of oxen, some sheep and goats, a crowd of cocks and +hens, four small dirty children and their father and mother; and a +great multitude of fleas. + +The mother fried him a supper of eggs with bread, and after it he +showed them something that they had never seen before. He took out of +his pack a copy of the New Testament translated into Arabic.[66] He +read bits out of it and talked to them about the Love of God. + +Early next morning, his saddle-bag stuffed with a batch of loaves +which the woman had baked first thing in the morning specially for +him, he set out again. + +How could a whole batch of loaves be stuffed in one saddle-bag? The +loaves are flat and circular like a pancake. The dough is spread on a +kind of cushion, the woman takes up the cushion with the dough on it, +pushes it through the opening and slaps the dough on the inner wall +of a big mud oven (out of doors) that has been heated with a fire +of twigs, and in a minute or two pushes the cushion in again and the +cooked bread falls on to it. + +So Forder climbed up the mountain track till he came out on the high +plain. He saw the desert in front of him--like a vast rolling ocean of +glowing gold it stretched away and away for close on a thousand miles +eastward to the Persian Gulf. Forder knew that only here and there in +all those blazing, sandy wastes were oases where men could build their +houses round some well or little stream that soon lost itself in the +sand. All the rest was desert across which man and beast must hurry +or die of thirst. He must follow the camel-tracks from oasis to oasis, +where they could find a well of water, therefore drink for man and +camel, and date-palms. + +So turning north he pressed on[67] till on the sixth day out from +Jerusalem the clouds came up with the dawn, and hail and rain, carried +by a biting east wind, beat down upon him. Lifting his eyes to the +horizon he saw ahead the sturdy castle and thick walls of the ancient +city of Bosra. Stumbling through the storm, along the narrow winding +streets, he met, to his disgust, a man whose dress showed that he was +a Turkish Government official. He knew that the Turkish Government +would be against a Christian and a foreigner going into their land. + +"Who are you?" asked the official, stopping him. "Where are you from? +Where are you going?" + +Forder told him, and the man said. "Come with me. I will find you and +your horses shelter at the Governor's house." Forder followed him into +a large room in the middle of which on the floor a fire was burning. + +"I must examine all your cases," said the official. "Get up. Open your +boxes." + +"Never," said Forder. "This is not a custom-house." + +"Your boxes are full of powder for arming the Arabs against the +Turkish Government," replied the official. + +"I will not open them," said Forder, "unless you bring me written +orders from the Turkish Governor in Damascus and from the British +Consul." + +Off went the official to consult the headman (the equivalent of the +Mayor) of the city. The headman came and asked many questions. At last +he said: + +"Well, my orders are to turn back all Europeans and not to let any +stay in these parts. However, as you seem to be almost an Arab, may +God go with you and give you peace." + +So Forder and the headman of the ancient city of Bosra got talking +together. Forder opened his satchel and drew out an Arabic New +Testament, and together they read parts of the story of the life of +Jesus Christ and talked about Him till ten o'clock at night. As the +headman rose to go to his own rooms Forder offered to him, and he +gladly took, the copy of the New Testament in Arabic to read for +himself. + + +_Saved by the Mist_ + +Next morning early, Forder had his horses loaded and started off with +his face to the dawn. The track now led toward the great Castle of +Sulkhund, which he saw looming up on the horizon twenty-five miles +away, against the dull sky. But mist came down; wind, rain, and hail +buffeted him; the horses, to escape the hail in their faces, turned +aside, and the trail was lost. Mist hid everything. Forder's compass +showed that he was going south; so he turned east again; but he could +not strike the narrow, broken, stony trail. + +Suddenly smoke could be seen, and then a hamlet of thirty houses +loomed up. Forder opened a door and a voice came calling, "Welcome!" +He went in and saw some Arabs crouching there out of the rain. A fire +of dried manure was made; the smoke made Forder's eyes smart and the +tears run down his cheeks. He changed into another man's clothes, and +hung his own up in the smoke to dry. + +"Where are we?" he asked. The men told him that he was about two and +a half hours' ride from the castle and two hours off the track that he +had left in the mist. The men came in from the other little houses to +see the stranger and sip coffee. Forder again brought out an Arabic +New Testament and found to his surprise that some of the men could +read quite well and were very keen on his books. So they bought some +of the Bibles from him. They had no money but paid him in dried figs, +flour and eggs. At last they left him to curl up on the hard floor; +and in spite of the cold and draughts and the many fleas he soon fell +asleep. + +As dawn came up he rose and started off: there (as he climbed out of +the hollow in which the hamlet lay) he could see the Castle Sulkhund. +He knew that the Turks did not want any foreigner to enter that land +of the Arabs, and that if he were seen, he would certainly be ordered +back. Yet he could not hide, for the path ran close under the castle, +and on the wall strode the sentry. The plain was open; there was no +way by which he could creep past. + +At last he came to the hill on which the castle stood. At that very +moment a dense mist came down; he walked along, lost the track, and +found it again. Then there came a challenge from the sentry. He could +not see the sentry or the sentry him. So he called back in Arabic that +he was a friend, and so passed on in the mist. At last he was out on +the open ground beyond both the castle and the little town by it. +Five minutes later the mist blew away; the sun shone; the castle was +passed, and the open plains lay before him. The mist had saved him. + +In an hour he came to a large town named Orman on the edge of the +desert sandy plains; and here he stayed for some weeks. His horses +were sent back to Jerusalem. Instead of towns and villages of huts, +he would now find only the tents of wandering Arabs who had to keep +moving to find bits of sparse growth for their few sheep and camels. +While he was at Orman he managed to make friends with many of the +Arabs and with their Chief. He asked the Chief to help him on toward +Kaf--an oasis town across the desert. + +"Don't go," the Chief and his people said, "the Arabs there are bad: +when we go we never let our rifles out of our hands." + +So the old Chief told him of the dangers of the desert; death from +thirst or from the fiery Arabs of Kaf. + +"I am trusting God to protect and keep me," said Forder. "I believe He +will do so." + +So Forder handed the Chief most of his money to take care of, and +sewed up the rest into the waistband of his trousers. (It is as safe +as a bank to hand your money to an Arab chief who has entertained you +in his tent. If you have "eaten his salt" he will not betray or rob +you. Absolute loyalty to your guest is the unwritten law that no true +Arab ever breaks.) + + +_The Caravan of Two Thousand Camels_ + +At last the old Chief very unwillingly called a man, told him to get +a camel, load up Forder's things on it, and pass him on to the first +Arab tent that he found. Two days passed before they found a group +of Bedouin tents. He was allowed to sleep in a tent: but early in the +morning he woke with a jump. The whole of the tent had fallen right +on him; he crawled out. He saw the Arab women standing round; they had +pulled the tent down. + +"Why do you do this so early?" he asked. + +"The men," they replied, "have ordered us to move to another place; +they fear to give shelter to a Christian--one that is unclean and +would cause trouble to come on us." + +So the tribesmen with their women and flocks made off, leaving Forder, +his guide, and the camel alone in the desert. That afternoon he found +a tent and heard that a great caravan was expected to pass that night +on the way to Kaf to get salt. Night fell; it was a full moon. Forder +sat with the others in the tent doorway round the fire. A man ran up +to them. + +"I hear the bells of the camels," he said. Quickly Forder's goods +were loaded on a camel. He jumped on top. He was led off into the open +plain. Away across the desert clear in the moonlight came the dark +mass of the caravan with the tinkle of innumerable bells. + +Arabs galloped ahead of the caravan. They drew up their horses +shouting, "Who are you? What do you want?" Then came fifty horsemen +with long spears in their hands, rifles slung from their shoulders, +swords hanging from their belts, and revolvers stuck in their robes. +They were guarding the first section made up of four hundred camels. +There were four sections, each guarded by fifty warriors. + +As they passed, the man with Forder shouted out the names of friends +of his who--he thought--would be in the caravan. Sixteen hundred +camels passed in the moonlight, but still no answer came. Then the +last section began to pass. The cry went up again of the names of the +men. At last an answering shout was heard. The men they sought were +found. Forder's guide explained who he was and that he wanted to go to +Kaf. His baggage was swiftly shifted onto another camel, and in a +few minutes he had mounted, and his camel was swinging along with two +thousand others into the east. + +For hour after hour the tireless camels swung on and on, tawny beasts +on a tawny desert, under a silver moon that swam in a deep indigo sky +in which a million stars sparkled. The moon slowly sank behind them; +ahead the first flush of pink lighted the sky; but still they pushed +on. At last at half-past six in the morning they stopped. Forder flung +himself on the sand wrapped in his _abba_ (his Arab cloak) and in a +few seconds was asleep. In fifteen minutes, however, they awakened +him. Already most of the camels had moved on. From dawn till noon, +from noon under the blazing sun till half-past five in the afternoon, +the camels moved on and on, "unhasting, unresting." As the camels were +kneeling to be unloaded, a shout went up. Forder looking up saw ten +robbers on horseback on a mound. Like the wind the caravan warriors +galloped after them firing rapidly, and at last captured them and +dragged them back to the camp. + +"Start again," the command went round, and in fifteen minutes the two +thousand camels swung grumbling and groaning out on the endless trail +of the desert. The captured Arabs were marched in the centre. All +through the night the caravan went on from moonrise to moonset, and +through the morning from dawn till ten o'clock--for they dared not +rest while the tribe from whom they had captured the prisoners could +get near them. Then they released the captives and sent them back, +for on the horizon they saw the green palms of Kaf, the city that they +sought. + +The camels had only rested for thirty minutes in forty hours.[68] With +grunts of pleasure they dropped on their knees and were freed from +their loads, and began hungrily to eat their food. + +Forder leapt down and was so glad to be in Kaf that he ran into some +palm gardens close by and sang "Praise God from Whom all blessings +flow," jumped for joy, and then washed all the sweat and sand from +himself in a hot spring of sulphur water. + +Lying down on the floor of a little house to which he was shown, he +slept, with his head on his saddlebags, all day till nearly sunset. + +At sunset a gun was fired. The caravan was starting on its return +journey. Forder's companions on the caravan came to him. + +"Come back with us," they said. "Why will you stay with these cursed +people of Kaf? They will surely kill you because you are a Christian." + +It was hard to stay. But no Christian white man had ever been in that +land before carrying the Good News of Jesus, and Forder had come out +to risk his life for that very purpose. So he stayed. + +What made Forder put his life in peril and stand the heat, vermin, and +hate? Why try to make friends with these wild bandits? Why care about +them at all? He was a baker in his own country in England and might +have gone on with this work. It was the love of Christ that gave him +the love of all men, and, in obeying His command to "Go into all the +world," he found adventure, made friends, and left with them the Good +News in the New Testament. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 65: Thursday morning, December 13, 1900.] + +[Footnote 66: Recall Henry Martyn and Sabat at work on this.] + +[Footnote 67: Passing Es-Salt (Ramoth Gilead), Gerash and Edrei in +Bashan.] + +[Footnote 68: It took the caravan six days to go back.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE FRIEND OF THE ARAB + +_Archibald Forder_ + +(Date of Incident, 1901) + + +_The Lone Trail of Friendship_ + +So the two thousand camels swung out on the homeward trail. Forder now +was alone in Kaf. + +"Never," he says, "shall I forget the feeling of loneliness that came +over me as I made my way back to my room. The thought that I was +the only Christian in the whole district was one that I cannot well +describe." + +As Forder passed a group of Arabs he heard them muttering to one +another, "_Nisraney_[69]--one of the cursed ones--the enemy of Allah!" +He remembered that he had been warned that the Arabs of Kaf were +fierce, bigoted Moslems who would slay a Christian at sight. But he +put on a brave front and went to the Chief's house. There he sat down +with the men on the ground and began to eat with them from a great +iron pot a hot, slimy, greasy savoury, and then sipped coffee with +them. + +"Why have you come here?" they asked him. + +"My desire is," he replied, "to pass on to the Jowf." + +Now the Jowf is the largest town in the Syrian desert--the most +important in all Northern Arabia. From there camel caravans go north, +south, east, and west. Forder could see how his Arabic New Testaments +would be carried from that city to all the camel tracks of Arabia. + +"The Jowf is eleven days' camel ride away there," they said, pointing +to the south-east. + + +[Illustration: FORDER'S JOURNEY TO THE JOWF.] + +"Go back to Orman," said the Chief, whose name was Mohammed-el-Bady, +"it is at your peril that you go forward." + +He sent a servant to bring in the headman of his caravan. "This +_Nisraney_ wishes to go with the caravan to the Jowf," said the Chief. +"What do you think of it?" + +"If I took a Christian to the Jowf," replied the caravan leader, "I am +afraid Johar the Chief there would kill me for doing such a thing. I +cannot do it." + +"Yes," another said, turning to Forder, "if you ever want to see the +Jowf you must turn Moslem, as no Christian would be allowed to live +there many days." + +"Well," said the Chief, closing the discussion, "I will see more about +this to-morrow." + +As the men sat smoking round the fire Forder pulled a book out from +his pouch. They watched him curiously. + +"Can any of you read?" he asked. There were a number who could; so +Forder opened the book--which was an Arabic New Testament--at St. +John's Gospel, Chapter III. + +"Will you read?" he asked. + +So the Arab read in his own language this chapter. As we read the +chapter through ourselves it is interesting to wonder which of the +verses would be most easily understood by the Arabs. When the Arab who +was reading came to the words: + +"God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that +whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting +life," Forder talked to them telling what the words meant. They +listened very closely and asked many questions. It was all quite new +to them. + +"Will you give me the book?" asked the Arab who was reading. Forder +knew that he would only value it if he bought it, so he sold it to him +for some dates, and eight or nine men bought copies from him. + +Next day the Chief tried to get other passing Arabs to conduct Forder +to the Jowf, but none would take the risk. So at last he lent him two +of his own servants to lead him to Ithera--an oasis four hours' camel +ride across the desert. So away they went across the desert and in the +late afternoon saw the palms of Ithera. + +"We have brought you a Christian," shouted the servants as they led +Forder into a room full of men, and dumped his goods down on the +floor. "We stick him on to you; do what you can with him." + +"This is neither a Christian, nor a Jew, nor an infidel," shouted +one of the men, "but a pig." He did not know that Forder understood +Arabic. + +"Men," he replied boldly, "I am neither pig, infidel, nor Jew. I am a +Christian, one that worships God, the same God as you do." + +"If you are a Christian," exclaimed the old Chief, "go and sit among +the cattle!" So Forder went to the further end of the room and sat +between an old white mare and a camel. + +Soon a man came in, and walking over to Forder put his hand out and +shook his. He sat down by him and, talking very quietly so that the +others should not hear, said: "Who are you, and from where do you +come?" + +"From Jerusalem," said Forder. "I am a Christian preacher." + +"If you value your life," went on the stranger, "you will get out of +this as quickly as you can, or the men, who are a bad lot, will kill +you. I am a Druze[70] but I pretend to be a Moslem." + +"What sort of a man is the Chief of Ithera?" asked Forder. + +"Very kind," was the reply. So the friendly stranger went out. Forder +listened carefully to the talk. + +"Let us cut his throat while he is asleep," said one man. + +"No," said the Chief. "I will not have the blood of a Christian on my +house and town." + +"Let us poison his supper," said another. But the Chief would not +agree. + +"Drive him out into the desert to die of hunger and thirst," suggested +a third. "No," said the Chief, whose name was Khy-Khevan, "we will +leave him till the morning." + +Forder was then called to share supper with the others, and afterwards +the Chief led him out to the palm gardens, so that his evil influence +should not make the beasts ill; half an hour later, fearing he would +spoil the date-harvest by his presence, the Chief led him to a filthy +tent where an old man lay with a disease so horrible that they had +thrust him out of the village to die. + +The next day Forder found that later in the week the old Chief himself +was going to the Jowf. Ripping open the waistband of his trousers, +Forder took out four French Napoleons (gold coins worth 16s. each) and +went off to the Chief, whom he found alone in his guest room. + +Walking up to him Forder held out the money saying, "If you will let +me go to the Jowf with you, find me camel, water and food, I will give +you these four pieces." + +"Give them to me now," said Khy-Khevan, "and we will start after +to-morrow." + +"No," replied Forder, "you come outside, and before the men of the +place I will give them to you; they must be witnesses." So in the +presence of the men the bargain was made. + +In the morning the camels were got together--about a hundred and +twenty of them--with eighty men, some of whom came round Forder, and +patting their daggers and guns said, "These things are for using on +Christians. We shall leave your dead body in the sand if you do not +change your religion and be a follower of Mohammed." + +After these cheerful encouragements the caravan started at one +o'clock. For four hours they travelled. Then a shout went up--"Look +behind!" + +Looking round Forder saw a wild troop of Bedouin robbers galloping +after them as hard as they could ride. The camels were rushed together +in a group: the men of Ithera fired on the robbers and went after +them. After a short, sharp battle the robbers made off and the men +settled down where they were for the night, during which they had to +beat off another attack by the robbers. + +Forder said, "What brave fellows you are!" This praise pleased them +immensely, and they began to be friendly with him, and forgot that +they had meant to leave his dead body in the desert, though they still +told him he would be killed at the Jowf. For three days they travelled +on without finding any water, and even on the fourth day they only +found it by digging up the sand with their fingers till they had made +a hole over six feet deep where they found some. + +_In the Heart of the Desert_ + +At last Forder saw the great mass of the old castle, "no one knows +how old," that guards the Jowf[71] that great isolated city with its +thousands of lovely green date palms in the heart of the tremendous +ocean of desert. + +Men, women and children came pouring out to meet their friends: for a +desert city is like a port to which the wilderness is the ocean, and +the caravan of camels is the ship, and the friends go down as men do +to the harbour to meet friends from across the sea. + +"May Allah curse him!" they cried, scowling, when they heard that a +Christian stranger was in the caravan. "The enemy of Allah and the +prophet! Unclean! Infidel!" + +Johar, the great Chief of the Jowf, commanded that Forder should be +brought into his presence, and proceeded to question him: + +"Did you come over here alone?" + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Were you not afraid?" + +"No," he replied. + +"Have you no fear of anyone?" + +"Yes, I fear God and the devil." + +"Do you not fear me?" + +"No." + +"But I could cut your head off." + +"Yes," answered Forder, "I know you could. But you wouldn't treat a +guest thus." + +"You must become a follower of Mohammed," said Johar, "for we are +taught to kill Christians. Say to me, 'There is no God but God and +Mohammed is His prophet' and I will give you wives and camels and +a house and palms." Everybody sat listening for the answer. Forder +paused and prayed in silence for a few seconds, for he knew that on +his answer life or death would depend. + +"Chief Johar," said Forder, "if you were in the land of the +Christians, the guest of the monarch, and if the ruler asked you to +become a Christian and give up your religion would you do it?" + +"No," said Johar proudly, "not if the ruler had my head cut off." + +"Secondly," he said to Johar, "which do you think it best to do, to +please God or to please man?" + +"To please God," said the Chief. + +"Johar," said Forder, "I am just like you; I cannot change my +religion, not if you cut off two heads; and I must please God +by remaining a Christian.... I cannot do what you ask me. It is +impossible." Johar rose up and went out much displeased. + + +_"Kill the Christian!"_ + +One day soon after this there was fierce anger because the mud tower +in which Johar was sitting fell in, and Johar was covered with the +debris. "This is the Christian's doing," someone cried. "He looked +at the tower and bewitched it, so it has fallen." At once the cry was +raised, "Kill the Christian--kill him--kill him! The Christian! The +Christian!" + +An angry mob dashed toward Forder with clubs, daggers and revolvers. +He stood still awaiting them. They were within eighty yards when, to +his own amazement, three men came from behind him, and standing +in front of Forder between him and his assailants pulled out their +revolvers and shouted, "Not one of you come near this Christian!" +The murderous crowd halted. Forder slowly walked backwards toward his +room, his defenders doing the same, and the crowd melted away. + +He then turned to his three defenders and said, "What made you come to +defend me as you did?" + +"We have been to India," they answered, "and we have seen the +Christians there, and we know that they do no harm to any man. We have +also seen the effect of the rule of you English in that land and in +Egypt, and we will always help Christians when we can. We wish the +English would come here; Christians are better than Moslems." + + * * * * * + +Other adventures came to Forder in the Jowf, and he read the New +Testament with some of the men who bought the books from him to read. +At last Khy-Khevan, the Chief of Ithera, who had brought Forder to the +Jowf, said that he must go back, and Forder, who had now learned what +he wished about the Jowf, and had put the books of the Gospel into the +hands of the men, decided to return to his wife and boys in Jerusalem +to prepare to bring them over to live with him in that land of the +Arabs. So he said farewell to the Chief Johar, and rode away on a +camel with Khy-Khevan. Many things he suffered--from fever and hunger, +from heat and thirst, and vermin. But at last he reached Jerusalem +once more; and his little four-year-old boy clapped hands with joy +as he saw his father come back after those long months of peril and +hardship. + +Fifteen hundred miles he had ridden on horse and camel, or walked. Two +hundred and fifty Arabic Gospels and Psalms had been sold to people +who had never seen them before. Hundreds of men and women had heard +him tell them of the love of Jesus. And friends had been made among +Arabs all over those desert tracks, to whom he could go back again in +the days that were to come. The Arabs of the Syrian Desert all think +of Archibald Forder to-day as their friend and listen to him because +he has proved to them that he wishes them well. + + +------------------------------------------------------------------+ + | "SEEING THEN THAT WE ARE COMPASSED ABOUT WITH SO GREAT A | + | CLOUD OF WITNESSES, LET US LAY ASIDE EVERY WEIGHT AND THE | + | SIN WHICH DOTH SO EASILY BESET US, AND LET US RUN WITH PATIENCE | + | THE RACE THAT IS SET BEFORE US, LOOKING UNTO JESUS, THE AUTHOR | + | AND PERFECTER OF OUR FAITH, WHO FOR THE JOY THAT WAS SET BEFORE | + | HIM ENDURED THE CROSS, DESPISING THE SHAME." | + +------------------------------------------------------------------+ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 69: That is _Nasarene_ (or _Christian_).] + +[Footnote 70: The Druzes are a separate nation and sect whose religion +is a kind of Islam mixed with relics of old Eastern faiths, _e.g._, +sun-worship.] + +[Footnote 71: The Jowf is a large oasis town with about 40,000 +inhabitants, about 250 miles from the edge of the desert. The water +supply is drawn up by camels from deep down in the earth.] + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Book of Missionary Heroes, by Basil Mathews + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF MISSIONARY HEROES *** + +***** This file should be named 16657.txt or 16657.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/5/16657/ + +Produced by Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + |