The aim should be to get the native really saved and on the Rock, Christ Jesus, so that he may become a light in his home. At the same time we should seek to train him to become a soul-winner among his people, so that a knowledge of God may be spread over the country. In this way only can the Great Commission be successfully carried out.
In Africa, especially, are teachers needed on the mission field, for before the missionary comes there is no written language, much less any who can read. To teach the people to read the Word is not only desirable, but it is an absolute necessity if it is to be a Light unto their feet in that dark land. We do not claim that a native cannot be a Christian unless he can read, for some of the older ones live exemplary Christian lives, although unable to read the Word; but among the younger generation they very seldom become established Christians if they are not willing to apply themselves sufficiently to study so that they are at least able to read the Word of God understandingly. Then too the spread of the Gospel cannot continue unless some are able to read.
I call to mind two able and Spirit-filled missionaries who spent two years in self-sacrificing labors among the natives of Africa. They went about from place to place, giving the Gospel to the people, and they were liked by the people and frequently had many attentive listeners.
Several years after they returned home one of them wrote, "We spent two years in giving the Gospel to the Africans, and yet we cannot point to one soul whom we definitely helped." We believe they underestimated the value of their work, for they always aimed to labor in harmony with other missionaries on the field and would advise natives to go to the nearest mission station. Yet the fact remains that unless the younger Christian natives attend school and learn to read the Word, and have it instilled into their minds from day to day, they are apt to forget and wander away.
I have dwelt thus at length on the educational feature of the work, because there are many good Christians who fail to understand why so much of a missionary's time is occupied in teaching the natives. It is simply for the reason that that is the only means they have of learning to read the Word of God. Among the natives of Africa there are no schools but the mission schools, and the chief purpose of these is to teach the natives to read the Word understandingly, so that they may "be able to teach others also." On the other hand, since schools are such an essential part of the work, there are not wanting those who confuse the education thus obtained with religion itself, and think all who become able to read are Christians. That is a consummation devoutly to be wished by every missionary, but it is no more true in Africa than it is in England or America. The fact that it is not true in those civilized countries may have much to do with the fact that it is not true in Africa.
Since the day-school at Macha never assumed large proportions, and there were many children all around us, especially girls, who were not in school, it had been the aim from the beginning to train teachers who might be placed in the various villages to teach and give the Gospel to the people in their homes, and thus multiply the work done by the missionaries manyfold. A number of schools had been started in this way.
In this work it is always necessary to use great care in the selection of teachers, that they may be teachers of righteousness as well as teachers of books. A boy may be quite apt as a scholar, and so far as is known be a moral person, but if he has not yielded himself to Christ as his Savior and has not a love for souls in his heart, he often does more harm than good as a teacher. In other words, he must be a missionary as well as a teacher, and lift up Christ among them. We often send a boy, who is prepared, back to his own village as teacher, if we have such a one. Mr. Worthington, Secretary for Native Affairs, when informed of this said, "I greatly approve of your custom of sending natives back to their own home to teach their people. I think it will obviate many difficulties in the way of native teachers."
The out-schools are superintended by the missionaries, who if possible visit them once a month and advise the teachers in reference to the work. If the schools are too far away for the pupils to attend church services at the mission, arrangements are made for services to be held more or less frequently at the schools. The native teachers also hold daily worship and Scripture reading with their schools, and all others who desire to attend.
In order that my readers may gain some information in reference to the out-schools connected with Macha Mission, you are invited to accompany me on a visit to them, such as I made shortly before returning to America. Miss E. Engle will accompany me, as she has charge of them during my absence. Two of the boys are also going as leader and driver.
While we are absent on this trip, Apuleni will have charge of the school at Macha. He was the second boy to come to the mission, nearly seven years before, and has been with us ever since, except for nearly eighteen months, when he, with other boys, went away to Salisbury to work. He has made good in school, and has accepted Christ as his Savior.
He says his chief desire is to know the will of God and do it. He is well versed in the Scriptures, is a good teacher and helper in Sunday-school, and reads, not only his own Tonga language, but also Zulu quite readily, and English, and acts as an interpreter from these two languages into his own. He is also prepared in the other branches taught. As he is our assistant teacher all the time, we know the school will not suffer in his hands.
We are going in the large two-seated spring wagon with a white canvas top, sent out by the Board two years ago. One of the seats is removed, and in the back part of the wagon is placed a box containing food, dishes, and the like equipments for our meals. There is also put in a large five-gallon can of good drinking water, two folding canvas bedsteads, a bundle containing bedding, and a mosquito net, and underneath the wagon in a framework is a tent which we have lately acquired. There is also a small bag of cornmeal, a tin of ground peanuts, some dried greens for the boys, and some whole peanuts for all of us. Where the dashboard was originally is now a long box in which are placed kettles and cooking utensils. And we do not forget to stow away in the box of the seat a quantity of bananas and lemons, of which the mission has an abundance; also some fresh vegetables. A small canvas bag, in which the drinking water is cooled, hangs on the side of the wagon. Four oxen are inspanned and one boy takes hold of the strap in front to lead the oxen, and another, with a long, slender pole, to which is tied a long, slender leathern lash, drives. He sometimes sits on the box in front and sometimes runs along the side.
We remember the times, not so very long ago, when we were not so comfortably equipped for traveling as we are at present. We walked many weary miles to see the people, and thoroughly enjoyed it too, even though the hard earth at times was our bed and the open canopy of heaven our tent, and native food in part supplied our needs. Then it was not possible to visit as many places in a day as now, and frequently when we arrived we were too tired to do justice to the Word. Then also we failed to reach many villages, because of the distance. Now it seems almost too good to be true that we are so well supplied, for the Lord has again wonderfully verified His precious promise, "to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." Praise His Holy Name! Yet we would not, if we could, do away with those early days and the blessings attending them, and we are better able to appreciate present favors by contrast.
[Illustration: School at Kabanzi Village.]
Usually we endeavor to start not later than sunrise, so that we may travel in the cool of the morning; for the sun becomes quite hot in the middle of the day, and it is advisable then to be under shelter. At this time, November, however, the morning is cloudy, so that we may have rain; but the clouds make traveling pleasant and we start. We go north and a little east. Where the roads are good the oxen trot off briskly; but in many places there are deep ruts, caused by the heavy rains of previous years, which make progress slow. In some places the ruts are a foot or two in depth, and it is necessary to make a new road along the side, for there are no government-built roads in the country.
The grass of the previous year's growth was burnt off in June or July; and ever since, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen except the great stretch of undulating reddish-brown earth, destitute of everything, save here and there little patches of dried grass, which had escaped the scorching fires, and scattered trees, almost destitute of leaves. There has been no rain for six or seven months; yet spring is approaching, and already in the rich valleys may be seen tender blades of grass springing up. On the bare brown hills here and there are flowers of various kinds, which gladden the eye and relieve the monotony of the scene. Where the moisture comes from at this season of the year to produce such delicate blossoms is a cause of conjecture. Then too, already many of the trees and shrubs are putting forth their tender, beautiful green leaves, some of which look as delicate and shining as wax; and occasionally one sees a tree or shrub with white, yellow, or red blossoms preparatory to putting forth leaves. All these changes we note with pleasure as we ride along in the cool, bracing air of the early morning.
At one place is to be seen Chikuni stump, which seems almost like a stone, and has been a landmark within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. The majority of trees which are to be seen on this road are hardwood, but very crooked and scrubby looking, no doubt owing to the yearly fierce onslaught of fire and also the nature of the soil. Along the road is one solitary mahogany; a large, spreading tree this is, but not a very good sample of its kind. There is also a large tree known as the sausage tree; its immense bean pods, one to two feet in length and a foot and over in circumference, reminding one of a great piece of sausage. Numerous acacia are to be seen, and as we approach the river, five miles from home, we see six large, fine-looking fig trees, their rich, dark-green foliage furnishing beautiful shade. Although this is the Myeki River, there is no water where we cross, yet the deep, bridgeless ravine makes crossing for heavily-laden wagons difficult at all seasons, and almost impassable during the rainy seasons. Here is a large village, but we proceed two miles further and come to Mianda School, where Charlie Sichamba teaches.
This is not a large village, but it is the home of a number of some of our best boys; those who have been of greatest assistance in teaching and in industrial work. The village has been lately moved, and huts are not yet all completed, nor is the schoolhouse finished. We drive near and are met by a number of the pupils, for we are always certain of a welcome at this place. The rain, which has been threatening, begins to come down, and one of the new huts is given to us. Wood is brought and a fire is kindled in the center, that we may have breakfast. A mat is placed on the nicely-swept floor, and on this the tablecloth is spread and the breakfast placed after it is cooked. This consists of corn porridge, with milk, bread, butter, eggs, fruit, and coffee if we desire it. Muguwe sends us milk, for he always sees that we are furnished with fresh milk when we come here. The boys are given another hut in which to cook their food. The meal being over, we hand the dishes to one of the boys to be washed, while we turn our attention to the school and work for which we came.
By this time the rain is beginning to abate, and the pupils, about twenty in number, assemble in another hut for school. Today there are not quite as many as usual, because there is a wedding in progress. Here is Muguwe, a tall, odd-looking native, over thirty years of age, and a Christian, and so far as we can learn he is consistent in his life.
Learning is difficult for him, but he is making progress and is quite persevering. His wife for a long time was opposed to his serving the Lord, but she is changing, and we trust that she too may accept Christ as her Savior. The stepdaughter is also in school and is making progress in Divine life. There are several other women and some girls and boys.
Some of them seem very slow in accepting Christ, but there has manifestly been a change in the lives of some, and a number of the old women are believers. During the last year of drought, when the people of nearly every village were so zealous in their heathen worship for rain, this was one of the two who stood true. After school is over, the older ones are summoned to join with us in worship, and we take the occasion once more to give them a Gospel message, to which they listen attentively. Here are Tom's mother, Jim's mother, and Chikaile's mother, all of whom seem to believe as far as they have grasped the Truth.
We are especially grieved today, however, because of the wedding which is progressing, for we knew nothing about it until we were on the journey. The bride is a Christian girl and has had a good experience, although she is not yet baptized. She is only about fifteen years old, or perhaps a little older, and has been given to an unsaved boy, who, however, has no other wife. We inquired of one of the boys if she wished to marry him. He looked at us in sort of a pitying manner, as if to say, "You should know better than to ask such a question," and replied, "They did not ask her." After the service we go up to the hut of the bride, and find her not feigning to cry, as some of the brides do, but in reality weeping most bitterly. At the sight of us her sobs break forth afresh. We try to comfort her, but what can or what dare we say? We speak to the mother, who also has confessed Christ, but she is the first wife in a line of five. She frankly acknowledges that she preferred to give her daughter to a Christian, but was overruled. The brothers too, who are Christians, could do nothing, the older relatives having arranged the affair. Her father is chief of the village and an influential man. He has always been a friend of the mission, but he feels that he can manage his own affairs best, and his children are taught implicit obedience. We know that remonstrance is useless, and from his conversation it is evident that he thinks he has provided wisely for his child, because the groom is son of the chief at Kabanzi, where one of our schools is located, and the young fellow had even attended school for a few days. The affair might be more serious, and we hope and pray that in time both may be Christians.
The next school is four miles farther on this road, at Impongo, and the teacher there is Singuzu, whose home is at Mianda. He is not so far advanced in learning, so he recites to Charlie. He is, however, a conscientious and Spirit-filled Christian. He accompanies us to his place of teaching. This is a new school, has been in session only about three months, and is held out in the open air in the shade of a tree; but they are gathering poles to build a hut. The people had asked several times for a school, and we finally concluded to give them one.
The teacher is doing his work faithfully, and progress is being made by the pupils in learning to read; but there are some things in connection with this school which are making the work very unsatisfactory, and both the teacher and ourselves think best to discontinue it. After the recitations are finished a service is held with them and they seem interested. When the late dinner is over it is decided to go about six miles west, to Kabanzi, the next school.
By this time it is somewhat late in the day, but it is hoped that our destination may be reached before dark. Singuzu, who is a better driver than the one accompanying us, is asked to go along and drive. This road is very little traveled and a white man might not be able to find it; but the natives accustomed to these trackless wilds do not soon become lost. Nearly the entire distance is through the brush, consisting of both large trees and short underbrush, so that the journey is more or less impeded. We travel along at a fair speed for oxen, as the driver is accustomed to dodging trees and shrubs; but darkness overtakes us before the village is reached. Progress is now slow, since the veldt from this to the village is full of the stumps of trees cut off, native fashion, two or three feet above ground, and we are fearful of running into these and breaking the wagon. Finally the wagon does become fast and the oxen must be unhitched until it is extricated. We again enter the wagon and move on. The welcome sight of the village fires shining out amid the darkness indicates that the end of the journey is near at hand. As we approach, a pack of dogs greet us with their loud barking, and light after light shines out through the open doors of the huts, or from the courtyard where the men, in the shelter of a semicircle of reeds, sit and palaver. There is no more pleasing sight to travelers through African wilds than the bright and cheerful blaze of the indispensable campfire, which answers for light and heat, for preparing the evening meal and warding off the wild animals.
As we reach the village, a number of natives emerge from their huts in order to ascertain who these intruders are, coming along the back of the village. On seeing their missionaries they gladly offer their services to conduct the wagon through the trees and stumps to the schoolhouse and teacher's hut. Sister Engle and I conclude not to have the tent pitched for the night, but to have our beds placed in the large, roomy schoolhouse, which boasts of a good plank door. We have had a busy day, for we have visited two schools, held two services, prepared our food, and traveled seventeen miles, so we are soon resting on our comfortable stretchers.
In the morning breakfast is prepared early, for the school is to begin earlier than usual so that we may continue our journey. We, however, take time to go over to the village and have a chat with some of the older people. This is Kabanzi village, and it has our oldest and best school. Before the opening of school services were held here frequently, and some were interested, but no one gave indications of wanting to follow the Lord until after school opened. Several boys from this place were converted while attending school at Macha. The teacher is Jamu, a careful, painstaking and faithful Christian. He is greatly interested in the spiritual as well as the intellectual advancement of his pupils. He carefully reads and explains the Word to them day by day, and he is a good evangelist. While in school at Macha he was always one of our best workmen in laying brick, sawing and thatching. There are generally about fifty pupils enrolled in this school and about thirty-five in daily attendance. Twelve have been baptized and nearly all the rest are in the Inquirers' Class.
We enter the schoolroom and the pupils march around the building, then enter and take their places on the logs extending across the room. All kneel and repeat the Lord's prayer, and then teaching begins. A few are reading the charts, some are in the first book, a number in the "Bible Stories," while a few are reading the Gospels of St. Mark and St.
Matthew. A number of pupils are married men and women. The women bring their babies, and yet with the interruption caused by these, they have learned to read well and are in the "Bible Stories." They exhibit remarkable perseverance, for they not only attend school, but dig in their gardens, carry wood and water, grind their meal, and prepare their food. On Sunday they walk nine miles to Macha to church, for they, together with their husbands, are Christians, or seeking to be such. The teacher says that they started to school first; then their husbands followed. The husbands also work in the gardens, build huts, hunt game for food, and part of the time work for the white man in order to obtain money for taxes and clothes. They have also lately been buying cloth to make dresses for their wives, and one day I came upon one of the men carefully washing his wife's dress. The Gospel is making them better husbands and more careful and considerate of their wives. The heathen worship, with its attendant evils, together with vice, beer, tobacco, and kindred habits, is being banished from these few homes at least.
When other villages were worshiping their rainmakers, these too were daily worshiping, but it was the Lord of lords Whom they worshiped. When the older ones desired to resort to their heathen worship, the Christians said, "No; if you do we shall build a kraal of our own." This means that there are many in the village who are not Christians, and some of them stoutly oppose the school; but the chief is favorable, as some of his children are Christians. There are also several old women in addition to the pupils who are breaking away from their old worship and accepting Christ. There is one _old_ woman here who has come out very bright in her Christian experience. She meets with much opposition, but she does not waver.
[Illustration: Sikaluwa.]
After we have remained one session of school, some of the older people are called and we have a service for very interested listeners. The boys then inspan the oxen and we proceed west to Kabwe School, about five or six miles distant. These are the people with whom we held a week's service over a year before. At this place our tent is pitched and we prepare to spend the night. This is a Baila village, and at first Sikaluwa had charge of the school, as he was brought up among that tribe and is a good Christian boy. He did good work for nearly a year, but he did not wish to continue. We were in doubt as to whom we should send to teach them; and after praying over the matter we concluded to consult the Christians in Members' Meeting, and inquire if anyone felt led of the Lord to take up the work there. At the close of the meeting we were surprised to have Chikaile come and say that he was willing to undertake the work, the Lord helping. He had been at the mission for some years and was quite capable of teaching. He is also one of the most cheerful and willing workers, but he is so young, perhaps only seventeen years of age. Because he is such an earnest and conscientious Christian, however, he was given the privilege, and has succeeded beyond our highest expectations. The kraal had just been moved and divided, so that he was obliged to build a new hut for himself. This he speedily did, and then began a schoolhouse which, with a little assistance from the villagers, was soon under roof. There is nothing lazy about the boy, and the school, as well as the work of the Lord, is progressing in his hands. He soon learned to know the people and the kind of lives they are leading, and is fearless in exposing sin, although he is always mild and humble in his demeanor. With him, as well as with other teachers who do not teach in their homes, a boy is sent, so that he need not be alone.
In this school we find twenty-four pupils in attendance, among them two elderly women. One of these, the mother of another Christian woman, has made a good confession. She entered school and we smiled somewhat incredulously, thinking that she was too old to learn; but our next visit to the school revealed the fact that she was making decided progress, and it seemed evident that she would soon be able to read the Gospel. After school was over, services were held and the people invited back for night meeting. We then prepared our food. During these visits to the villages the people sometimes bring a present of a chicken, a dish of peanuts, some milk, or whatever they think we might relish.
Occasionally, on a hot day, it is a cup of ibwantu. This is a gruel made of the meal of native grain into which has been placed crushed root with an acid flavor. It is usually made in the evening and consumed the next day. It is not alcoholic, and has a very cooling and refreshing taste.
It will be brought in a large cup, and as is their custom, the donor usually takes a sip first to show there is no poison in it.
When this village was moved and divided into three parts, we about gave up the thought of opening school again, but the chief was not satisfied, and promised that if school was reopened he would see that the children came together to learn; so we agreed to send a teacher. Six very nice young girls came from Kabwe to stay at Macha and attend school; but others entered to fill up the ranks and the work continues.
Early the next morning we start on our homeward way. The road takes us back past Kabanzi, and there we turn south toward Macha. On the way we come to a place which at first sight might be taken for an old deserted native village; but a closer inspection reveals the fact that the huts were never finished. Here is the framework of twelve large, nice-looking huts. Some have just been rightly started; of some the walls are finished, and on others the builders had begun to put on the roof. Poles are scattered all around, and some poles are at a distance from the huts, but near the road, and look as if those who were carrying them had dropped them hastily. The whole has the appearance as if a number of people were busily engaged in building a village and were surprised by an enemy in the midst of their labors and slain, their work unfinished.
What does it mean? This question we asked ourselves on first seeing it.
The answer was this: They were indeed surprised by an enemy, but that enemy was death. The headman sickened and died; his son followed.
Concluding that the place was bewitched, the rest at once abandoned it and went elsewhere, leaving all those fine, straight poles to rot.
On the journey homeward we again come to Myeki River, for this is a very winding stream, and this crossing is several miles farther west. At this place there is another school. We stop near the village, where Mafuta the teacher lives, and he, with some of the rest, comes out to meet us.
We have driven about ten miles this morning and now hastily prepare breakfast and eat. Some tall, beautiful bottle palms grow in this vicinity, and while we are eating, the teacher brings us the fruit of one, a part of which is eaten with relish. We then start off on foot for the school, which is about two miles distant, near another village. We leave the lead boy to herd the oxen, while the little herdboys of this village drive their cattle ahead, so that they may learn in school and at the same time watch the cattle.
As we walk along the path, through this somewhat dense forest, let me tell you something of this teacher, Mafuta. He is older than the most of our boys and was already grown when we reached Macha, seven years ago.
He at that time worked for us a few months. For over three years, however, he showed no inclination to want to learn or be a Christian, and seldom came to Church. He was just like the other natives in the village and indulged in their sinful and lazy ways. Finally he informed one of the boys that he was coming to school until he had sufficient money to take a wife. We were quite skeptical when we heard it; for we did not expect that he would remain long, and then too school was not a money-making place. He came and applied himself to school work. He was slow and dull, but he was diligent and made progress.
He entered the Inquirers' Class and the Lord found a way into his heart.
One day in the class, when a number came forward for special prayer, he became in earnest and found what he sought--pardon for his dark past, and peace in his soul. As he took his seat his face wore a look of new-found joy, and he arose and testified as to what the Lord had done for him. In work also he was faithful, and he soon learned to handle the oxen in plowing and in the wagon, and thus he received higher wages. By close economy he gradually was able to get a little money ahead. In time he was baptized. He gained one of the nicest girls in the neighborhood as his wife, is married by Christian marriage, and is now teaching this school. He is not as quick at learning as some, but he is faithful and painstaking and is a living Christian among them. When we look at him and think how little faith we had in the early days, we are reminded of the words, "The Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but God looketh on the heart."
We visit the school and find twenty-four scholars assembled, the teacher's wife among the number. It is a new school, but the pupils are making advancement. After services we retrace our steps to the waiting wagon, and then return to the mission, which is only about four and one-half miles distant. We have spent three days out, have visited five schools and have traveled thirty-six miles in somewhat of a circle. We have enjoyed the trip and the change from the routine of the mission station, but a person is glad to reach home, after a few days spent on the veldt.
Again we desire to visit Chilumbwe School, which is about seven miles northeast. Here the natives were asking for some time for a school. We had come to the conclusion, however, that no more schools would be opened until the people of the village erect some sort of a schoolhouse.
They are always ready to promise that they will build, but if a teacher is provided before the house is built they generally are slow in carrying out their promise. Then too it is not best to make the work too easy for them. They appreciate most that which has cost them something.
The work among them is new, and as the schools are especially for children, and money is always scarce, we dare not expect too much at present. If they are eager for a teacher they can at least build a schoolhut, feed their teacher, buy their own books, and these they are expected to do. Even the poorest buy their books, and if they cannot bring money they often bring a chicken or grain in pay. The people at Chilumbwe finally managed to build their hut and school began a month ago.
We again take the wagon and go north as before, but soon turn off toward the east. We pass through Chikuni, where formerly there was a large village, and over under that large, spreading fig tree Sikaluwa taught school. But sickness entered the village; the chiefs wife died, a child followed, and then a young man, all in the same village. All these died in a similar manner which, from the description given afterwards, must have been _spinal meningitis_. They thought it was witchcraft and became afraid of one another. So they separated, some going one way, some the other. We pass several kraals on the way and finally reach Chilumbwe.
The chief of this village is rich in cattle and is an unusually intelligent and well-bred native. Jim is the teacher. Yes, he is that short, well-dressed native with the colored glasses on. He is the one who lost his eye and is very sensitive on account of the defect; but he is a splendid fellow, faithful, humble, and an excellent workman. He is moreover a sincere Christian, anxious to know and do the will of his Heavenly Father.
As the wagon approaches the schoolhouse we are greeted by the chief and a number of the pupils, for they are expecting the visit. It is decided to have services first so that the older ones need not remain. The pupils, together with some men and women from the village, gather around a large shade tree, the chief taking a prominent position. All the pupils join lustily in the singing, seemingly anxious to impress upon their missionaries that they are progressing in that at least. A service is then held, after which the pupils gather in the little schoolhouse for school. There are about fifty pupils already enrolled in this school, some being from neighboring kraals, and there are over thirty in attendance today. They are starting out well, but how many will continue remains to be seen. The pupils are all young men and boys, and the teacher informs us that they will not allow the women and girls to attend school. We cannot force them to let the girls come, nor is it wise to attempt it, so we just look to the Lord and wait until He can find a way into their hearts. At all the other out-schools the girls generally outnumber the boys. This being a new school, nearly all read on the charts; only two or three have passed that stage, but we have two beginning books along and they are bought. There are no Christians at this place, and the one that seems most interested in the Gospel is the chief's son. He was badly mauled by a leopard a few months ago, and the chief brought him to the mission to be treated. Sister Engle very successfully treated his wounds; and while he was with us he came under the influence of the Gospel, and we believe he is reaching out for more knowledge of his Savior.
All the schools have now been visited. There is a call for a school southwest about six miles, and there is a teacher for it; but the people have not yet erected a schoolhouse. The villages near have asked for schools and have had them; but many have opposed the Gospel and the work has not proved a success among them. There are a few in each village who are Christians, and some of them are with us and others coming to day-school. We are not yet discouraged with these at our doors who have been hardening their hearts against the truth. God has yet among them some who will come out strong for Him, for we know that His Spirit is striving with them and with some it will not strive in vain. It can be seen that a knowledge of God is slowly spreading over the country and real miracles are being performed in the hearts of some of these erstwhile heathen; miracles greater than the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Souls are being raised to walk in newness of life and are living witnesses to those around them of Christ's power to save to the uttermost. _God's love_ has bridged the immense chasm in the lives of some between the densest, darkest paganism and the glorious Light of the children of men. But we must be patient with the slow ones, for it is not always those who are the most ready to accept who are the most stable. Some delay long years and finally come out strong and vigorous for Christ. Where only rude, coarse heathen songs were heard, anthems of praise to God now arise, and daily prayer ascends.
It may be seen that the natives are governed by a number of petty chiefs, and that they frequently change the location of their villages.
This makes the work among the out-schools more difficult; but others are calling for schools, and already the past year over 200 children were enrolled in the out-schools, in addition to those at Macha; and this where only a few years ago the names _school_ and _God_ were not known.
We are touching only a small spot thus far and see a great wall of darkness just beyond; a darkness which we occasionally seek to penetrate. Other bodies of missionaries also are laboring in some sections of the country, but there is much land ahead yet to be possessed, and many natives still in darkness who can say, "No man careth for my soul."
The salvation of Africa rests largely upon the native converts, and we rejoice for the manner in which some are coming to the help of the Lord's cause, and we trust they may ever have the prayers of all who are interested in the evangelization of this vast continent. Natives, however, cannot do the work alone. There always is need of white workers to oversee and direct the work, or it will not advance satisfactorily.
We believe the Lord desires us to ask largely these latter days, but in this instance we shall be modest in our request, and that is, that the way be open to start at least one more station of white workers in Northern Rhodesia. We believe the Lord is speaking to some hearts to open such a work. Is He not speaking to others to give of their prayers and money for the work? Many of God's children could pay $200 or $300 a year toward the support of a white worker, and others $40 to $50 for a native evangelist, and not need to deny themselves any of the comforts of life in the doing of it. May God help us to see and appreciate our privileges in Christ Jesus.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN