The associations on the _Majestic_ had been pleasant and we expected a similar experience on this second steamer; but the long voyage to Cape Town leaves much to be desired. One may always find some congenial spirits, but even under the best circumstances the voyage finally becomes tiresome. Only too often the more turbulent element gains the upperhand, so that drinking, gambling, dancing, and even grosser evils prevail.
After sailing from Southampton one soon leaves behind the cold, chilly winds of the temperate climate and begins to enjoy the soft, balmy breezes of the subtropical climate. However, as the heat becomes more intense, this enjoyment gradually gives place to discomfort. The only stop on the way to Cape Town was at Las Palmas, on Canary Island. As we approached the place, the low-lying mountain peaks could have been mistaken for clouds, but soon the entire island lay before us in all its beauty. What appeared at first sight to be bare cliffs were soon seen to be clothed with verdure; and while we were feasting our eyes on the scene, on one side of the steamer, our attention was called to the opposite side where the city of Las Palmas lay. It was indeed a magnificent scene and beggars description. The city, which is almost entirely white, rises tier after tier up the mountain side, and the whole had a dark background of mountain peaks. We were in the bay with the island nearly surrounding us. In a short time our steamer was encompassed by a number of small boats full of natives, some of whom came to sell their wares of fruit or fancywork. Other boats were full of diving boys, ready to plunge into the sea for money thrown from the steamer into the water.
In a short time the steamer was again on its way; but where was it taking the little band of missionaries? and what was to be their final destination? Their tickets called for Cape Town, but beyond that the way seemed like a sealed book. Africa, with its barbarism, its unknown depths, its gross darkness, lay before them; and they were keenly conscious of their ignorance of the continent. They had implicit confidence, however, in their Great Leader, and believed that they were going to a place which the Lord said He would show them. Many prayers ascended that they might understand His voice when He spoke to them.
Personally their ideas about the location of the work differed. At first Elder Engle felt drawn for various reasons towards the Transvaal (not Johannesburg), because that was not so far inland. To one of the party the call had been distinctly into the interior and most needy regions where Christ had not been named. All, however, were ready to let the Lord lead.
A number of the passengers on the steamer were familiar with some parts of Africa and gave valuable information. One of the officers, the chief engineer, was especially helpful. He brought out his maps and went carefully over the ground, showing where missionaries were located and where there was need. Ere the party left the steamer, the consensus of opinion seemed to be that Rhodesia, or the part of it known as Matabeleland, was the Lord's place for them to begin aggressive missionary work. This was further confirmed when it was learned that the Cape to Cairo Railroad had just been completed as far as Bulawayo, the chief town of Matabeleland.
This having been decided upon, the next question was as to how long they were to remain at Cape Town before proceeding into the interior. The amount of money at their disposal was not large, and as it was the Lord's money it was necessary to know His will as to its disposal. They soon learned that He was continuing to go before and prepare the way.
Those were precious days of waiting on Him; for never does His will and guidance seem so precious as when He is showing only one step at a time, and as one becomes willing to take that, lo! another is revealed just beyond. Why then do we so often halt, fearing to walk alone with Him, knowing that we cannot stumble as long as we keep hold of His dear hand?
On December 26 the steamer entered beautiful Table Bay, and the long voyage was over. Praises ascended to Him Who had given such a prosperous journey. It was Sunday when land was reached and the passengers were allowed to remain on board the steamer until Monday if they so desired.
All of us attended divine services on land Sunday morning, and in the afternoon Brother and Sister Engle went to the Y. W. C. A. Building where the Secretary, Miss Reed, offered to help them look for rooms.
They accordingly went on Monday morning, the rest of us remaining with the boxes and in prayer. They at first were unsuccessful in securing rooms, but after again looking to the Lord for guidance, Miss Reed was impressed to take them to a Mrs. Lewis (nee Shriner), a prominent temperance and reform worker of Cape Town, and a most devoted Christian. This lady was a friend in need to many of God's children. She had lately rented a large building in connection with her work; but the venture had not been as successful as she had hoped, and she was in prayer about the matter, pleading that the place might be made a blessing to some one. Even as she prayed, three persons stood at her door desiring to speak with her. These were Miss Reed and Elder and Mrs.
Engle, whom the Lord had directed thither. As soon as she heard their errand, she felt that here was an answer to her prayer. Arrangements were immediately made by which they were to receive three plainly-furnished rooms for a sum which was very moderate indeed for Cape Town. She said she would prefer to give the rooms gratis if she were in a position financially to do so. Together they fell on their knees and thanked the Lord for answered prayer which meant so much to all concerned. When Elder Engle returned to the waiting ones their hearts, too, leaped for joy at the good news. They thought it was almost too good to be true, that so soon rooms had been secured, and that they were to have a little home of their own without the expenses of a hotel.
Truly, "He is able to do exceeding abundantly all that we ask or think."
Boxes were soon transferred to the new home and our feet planted firmly on African soil.
CHAPTER THREE
Preparation and Progress
We were here on the threshold of Africa, eager to move out. We realized, however, how meager was our knowledge of this vast continent and its needs, so it was necessary to go slow and gain all possible information from this vantage ground.
Cape Town is the oldest of South African cities and is the largest seaport town, having a population of about 80,000 inhabitants. The long, tiresome sea voyage being over, the sight of this picturesque city, nestling so cozily at the foot of Table Mountain, is one long to be remembered. The mountain rises abruptly 3,850 feet in the background of the city. Its majestic flat top is two miles long, and when the weather is clear, it stands sharply outlined against the blue sky. Frequently, however, a white cloud, known as the "Table Cloth," comes up from the sea from the back of the mountain and rolls down over the face, a sign that a change of weather is imminent. It has been said, "The glory of Table Bay is Table Mountain," and "The glory of Table Mountain is the Table Cloth." Bay, town, and mountain combine to make the picture beautiful and unique of its kind.
Cape Town was laid out by the Dutch, and the substantial, antiquated-looking houses in the older parts of the city bear ample testimony to this fact. There are also many fine, modernly-built houses.
The place is supplied with all the latest improvements, which are a necessary part of a modern city. The population is most varied. Dutch, English, Hottentots, Malays, and Kafirs abound. The scenes on some of the streets at that time, especially in the evenings and on holidays, were most varied and picturesque. There were to be seen Europeans in civilian dress, others in soldier's uniform, Malays in their turbans and bright, flowing robes, well-dressed blacks, and the raw native African with only a gunny sack to cover him, for clothed he must be before he can enter the city.
Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, together with other Christian people whom we met at Cape Town, thought Matabeleland, the chosen field, was a good one, especially the Matopo Hills, as there were no missionaries in that locality. The late Cecil Rhodes, who was still powerful in Rhodesia, was at that time living on his estate, Groot Schuur, near Cape Town, and Bishop Engle was advised to go to him and endeavor to obtain from him a tract of land for a mission site. This was another special season of looking to the Lord on the part of the little company, that He might overrule it to His glory and to the advancement of His Kingdom. Brother Engle was received kindly by the gentleman, and his request was favorably considered, especially the suggestion of going to the Matopo Hills. He at once gave Brother Engle a letter to the British Charter Company, of Rhodesia, with the recommendation that we be given 3,000 acres of land in the Matopo Hills for a mission station. He added that "missionaries are better than policemen and cheaper."
Every forward step only served to confirm us in the decision on the steamer that Matabeleland, which is a part of Rhodesia, was the Lord's place for opening up His work in Africa. The fact that the railroad had just shortly before been completed that far, thus making it easier of access; the advice of those on the steamer who were familiar with the country; the advice of the spiritually-minded friends met at Cape Town, and the encouragement given by him, the "Empire Builder," who perhaps more than anyone else had the welfare of the country at heart and whose name, Rhodesia, the country bore, together with the conviction of the missionaries themselves, all served to set at rest any further question as to location that might arise.
Sister Hershey, it is true, was somewhat burdened as to whether Rhodesia was the Lord's place for her. While she was seeking to know His will in the matter, she received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Worcester, of Johannesburg, inviting her to come and assist in the missionary work at the Compounds. She felt at once that this was the Lord's place for her, and accepted it as from Him. We were truly sorry to lose so valuable and consecrated a colaborer in the work, but felt to bow in submission to Him Who knoweth best.
While we were waiting at Cape Town, we learned that the Tebele language spoken by the natives in Matopo Hills and vicinity was a dialect of the Zulu language. The Bible had been translated into the Zulu, and there were grammars and dictionaries to be had, and we at once endeavored to procure these so that we might do some studying. Efforts were also made to secure a teacher, but the Zulu teacher recommended did not have sufficient English to be of any real service to us except in the pronunciation of Zulu words, so we were obliged to study on alone and consequently made very little progress.
We had arrived at Cape Town in the midst of the summer and dry season.
Like California, Cape Town and vicinity have rains chiefly in the winter, and a most healthful climate the year round. Other parts of South Africa, however, have their rainy season in the summer, and in some localities, notably Rhodesia and farther inland, the deadly malarial fever is especially severe during the rainy season. So we were advised to remain at Cape Town until the rains were over in Rhodesia.
Mr. Lewis was contemplating going north with us to assist Brother Engle in opening the work; but before this could be accomplished, both he and Mrs. Lewis were summoned north to Bulawayo by a telegram to minister to one of their friends there who was very sick.
After reaching Bulawayo they immediately sent a telegram south telling us to remain at Cape Town, and under no consideration to venture into the interior until the rains were over. As if to emphasize the message, both of them, while attending to the sick, were stricken with fever, and all were obliged to hasten south as soon as possible. We also came into contact with some of the Seventh Day Adventists in Cape Town, and through them learned that two of their missionaries in Rhodesia had just succumbed to the fever.
From the illness brought on at this time Mr. Lewis never fully recovered, and shortly after our departure from Cape Town, we learned, much to our sorrow, that he had been carried away by the disease. We were often made to feel, as Mrs. Lewis expressed it, that the Lord had sent them before us to preserve life. Otherwise we would undoubtedly have gone to Bulawayo at an earlier date than we did and would probably have had to suffer in consequence. We shall never forget the great kindness of these friends during the entire four months of our stay at Cape Town. The wise counsel, the spiritual and financial aid which they gave, will ever be a green spot in our memory. And not only then, but in later years, Mrs. Lewis' home, "The Highlands," and her large heart were ever open to our missionaries. As each recruit stepped foot on Africa's shores she was the first to welcome him. When any needed rest, her house was wide open for any who might choose to come and rest there. When a few years ago word came that she had gone to meet her Savior Whom she so much loved, we all felt that we had indeed lost a friend that could not be replaced.
At last the time came when it was considered safe to move out, Sister Hershey to Johannesburg and the rest to Bulawayo. Mrs. Lewis had given us a nice large tent, 16 x 16 feet, which could be used as a dwelling place while huts were being built, and she had also on her trip north met some of the white people of Bulawayo who were ready to assist us.
Other friends at Cape Town also kindly helped us on the way.
On April 28, 1898, we took the train at Cape Town, bound for Bulawayo, 1,362 miles inland. We traveled four days and four nights in a comfortable coach and reached the place May 2. The same journey formerly required six months and longer with an ox team. We passed through only a few towns worthy the name; Kimberley, the center of the diamond mines, being the principal one. Some of the country through which we passed looked like a desert; not a blade of grass to be seen, but the red sand is covered with bushes. This is known as the Karroo, and, as rain seldom falls on much of this land, one is surprised to see flocks of sheep and here and there an ostrich farm. There are many flat-topped mountains and hills, at the foot of which one occasionally catches sight of a farmhouse with its accompanying sheep pen. A letter sent to America at the time adds:
Parts greatly resemble Kansas prairies, while the last four or five hundred miles of the journey the country looks like old, deserted orchards. We were also introduced to African life in its primitive state, and during the latter part of the journey no white people were visible save the few connected with the railway service, but many native huts were to be seen. Some were made of mud, others formed of poles covered with various-colored cloth, forming a veritable patchwork, while the natives in semi-nude condition came crowding about the car windows, begging for money and food. How my heart bled for these poor souls! Although the railroad was built, ostensibly, for the purpose of developing the commercial and mining interests of the country; yet, as I looked upon those poor natives, I wondered whether the real purpose of it under the Providence of God was not to bring the Gospel to them. Other missionaries are here before us, but I believe we are the first to make use of the new railroad for this purpose.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matabeleland
Before proceeding with my story let me introduce to my readers the people and the country to which we had come. The Matabele are a branch of the Zulu tribe of Southeast Africa. During the reign of the great and despotic Zulu King, Tyaka, they revolted under the leadership of Mzilikazi, or Moselikatse, and started north through Africa, proving a terror to the various tribes along the way and meeting with numerous hardships and varying degrees of success. About the year 1836 found them in this country, to which they gave the name Matabeleland. This land, together with Mashonaland, constitutes what is now known as Southern Rhodesia.
Here they established themselves by ruthlessly slaughtering all who opposed them, and enslaving the natives already in the country. After the death of Mzilikazi, his son, Lobengula, became King. He was more or less tyrannical, like his father, and he lived with his sixty wives about two miles from what is now known as Bulawayo--the killing place--or, as the natives often say, "o Bulawayo," meaning murderer. A rock near this place is still pointed out as the place where a number of his wives met a violent death.
This King Lobengula ruled his people with a rod of iron. The young men were all enlisted in his army and the women and children left to carry on the work in the gardens and kraals. Rev. Helm, one of the first missionaries in the country, said it was impossible to get hold of the young men; and even if the boys did start to school, the King would take them for his own use as soon as they were old enough. He, however, never molested the missionaries themselves, and probably considered it an honor to have a white teacher in the country; but, as Mrs. Helm remarked, they were careful not to offend him.
The British Charter Company had obtained some concessions from the King in 1889, and, in the next year, Europeans entered the country to prospect and mine the gold. It was a foreseen conclusion that there would eventually be a conflict between a savage despot, to whom many of the white people were obliged to cringe, and a civilized people. The inevitable reached a climax in 1893, when war broke out between the King and the white people of the country. There were only a few white men in the country at that time, but assegais and other native weapons were no match for Maxim guns and European tactics. The King's house being burnt, he himself fled and eventually died in January, 1894, thus causing the war suddenly to come to an end, as there remained no one to keep the forces together. The British South African Company took possession and began to occupy and build up the country.
The Matabele, however, did not consider themselves conquered, and many circumstances conspired to bring about a second conflict. Perhaps the chief among these was the fact that all the cattle were regarded as the property of the King, although being distributed among the people and used by them as their own. However, since the cattle belonged to the King, the British Company looked upon them as theirs by right of conquest, and proceeded to appropriate some of them. This greatly angered the natives, as also the rinderpest, which came later and swept off many of the remaining cattle. Then 400 of the subject tribes were armed and enlisted as native police; and this was most galling to the proud Matabele warriors, that they should be exulted over by their former slaves. The disease among their cattle, the locust, which devoured their crops, and numerous other troubles were all, by their witch doctors, laid at the door of the white man. Umlimo (their god) also affirmed that their King was still alive and was ready to assist them in gaining their liberty.
This second conflict, known as the Matabele Rebellion of 1896, came very suddenly upon the 4,000 white people, scattered in various parts of the country. No one seemed to expect danger, although there were several who had had a little warning, and many natives who were working in Bulawayo were called home by their parents. One boy in speaking of the time said:
"I was working in Bulawayo when my father sent word that I was to come home. I did not want to but I was afraid to disobey. I was afraid to look at my father, he looked like a mad man. He said, 'We cannot live and be oppressed like this. We would rather die than be treated as we are!'
"The rest of the people, too, looked just that way!"
The natives rose against the Europeans and suddenly murdered 200 in the outlying districts, including a number of women and children. Some of these were murdered by their own servants. The rest of the white people hastily gathered into the new town of Bulawayo, while soldiers scoured the country in search of native troops. A large number of the native police had gone over to the enemy, carrying their rifles with them, and a number of the natives, both in Matabeleland and Mashonaland, had in some way secured several thousand firearms; so that in this war the natives were much better prepared.
This rebellion lasted eight months, and the natives were finally driven into the Matopo Hills. In these, nature's vast strongholds and caves, all efforts of the European soldiers to dislodge them proved unavailing.
Here finally came Mr. Rhodes, unarmed, into the midst of the enemy's camp and made peace with them. The tree under which this famous council was held is still pointed out not many miles from where Matopo Mission now is. We entered the country a little over a year after the close of the rebellion, while all the causes and events were still fresh in the minds of the natives. What is still more significant, we were located in the very heart of these hills where no missionary had yet penetrated, and being surrounded by many of the rebels themselves, we were able to glean much of the above history at first hand. When we went among them they were still seething with discontent from the same cause which led to the Rebellion.
Mr. Rhodes, who had made peace with these natives, was always respected and trusted by them, and while he was no religious man himself, he thoroughly believed in missionary work among the people. His desire that we come to these hills and his statement, that "missionaries are better than policemen, and cheaper," was actuated by no mercenary motive. It was his conviction, borne out by experience and by long years of contact with the Africans, that missionary work and the Christianization of the natives was the only solution of the native problems.
But to return to our story, we arrived at Bulawayo late in the evening and were taken to the Royal Hotel. This was a good, up-to-date hotel, with an up-to-date African price. In the morning, as we looked out of the window, the first sight which greeted our eyes was a large African wagon drawn by eighteen oxen. Except for this and similar sights we could easily have imagined that we were in an American town, for this place, with broad streets and thriving business, is said to have been patterned somewhat after American cities. My impressions of the town and vicinity written at the time were as follows:
Bulawayo is a modern wonder, an oasis of civilization in the midst of a desert of barbarism and heathendom. It has nearly 3,000 inhabitants, and has been built since 1894. Before that time Lobengula, the great Matabele King, held sway about two miles from here at the place where the Government House now stands. This place reminds one of the booming Kansas towns of a few years ago, but it is hundreds of miles from any other civilized place, and is well built of brick and iron, has good stores of all kinds, five churches, public library, electric lights and telephone, not only in town, but also extending to various police forts in the surrounding country, but no public schools. There are comfortable riding cabs, or traps, drawn by horses or mules, but the traffic is carried on by heavy carts or still heavier wagons drawn by a large number of oxen or donkeys. The manual labor is done chiefly by the native boys, the white people considering it beneath their dignity to do anything a native can do.
The surrounding country is very pretty and level, and one can see an abundance of the "golden sands" mentioned by the poet, and even gold sands are not wanting, but I am sorry to say that the "sunny fountains" rolling down them are very few, especially at this season of the year when there are seven months of drought!
This for Bulawayo in 1898 and first impressions.
We remained at the hotel only two days. Our tent and the other goods had not yet arrived, but a gentleman, to whom we had a letter of introduction through Mrs. Lewis, most kindly offered the use of his house and furniture for two weeks, which offer was gratefully accepted.