Money had been forthcoming for permanent buildings which were greatly needed. The huts were not only showing signs of decay, but some were damp and unhealthful during the rainy season, and even became mouldy at times. It was evident that, however convenient and useful they had been in their time, their day was fast passing away, and for the comfort and health of the missionaries something more permanent must be erected. The rains had started before Elder Steigerwald's arrival, so no more bricks could be made until the rains were over. Brother Doner was busy with the farming, and this left Brother Steigerwald free to make preparations for building.
There is an abundance of fine granite stones and slabs in the vicinity; and as the new year of 1902 opened, he had these hauled together for a foundation. During the rainy season, whenever the rains stopped for a time, he built at the foundation of the house. Although he had natives to assist, yet he found the work to be very heavy and taxing to his strength, but by the end of the rainy season he had a most excellent foundation for a house laid. Then he and Brother Doner, with the help of the schoolboys and some other natives, made and burnt a large kiln of bricks and were ready to begin the house.
[Illustration: Matopo Mission House. Front View.]
The brethren in Africa can tell you that building on a mission station in the wilds of Africa is quite a different affair from what it is in civilized countries, or even in the cities of Africa. In these latter places, a man, desiring to build, buys his timber, his ready-made brick, and other material. Then the stone masons come and lay the foundation.
The bricklayers, carpenters, plumbers, plasterers, and painters all follow in their order, together with their helpers, and the work is completed in an incredibly short space of time. On the mission field all this usually falls to the lot of one man, from the blasting out of the stone for the foundation and the brickmaking until the building is completed. He is mason, bricklayer, carpenter, plumber, plasterer, all in one. That one often is not a trained mechanic, or even a practical one, but many times he comes direct from the farm, schoolroom, or pulpit. With the many duties of a missionary pressing in upon him, sufficient to occupy all his attention, he must in addition undertake the laborious task of building a house, and even make most of the furniture with which it is fitted up.
Some one may inquire, is it not possible to secure skilled workmen to do the building? Yes, in some instances this can be done; but the high cost of living in Africa raises the wages of skilled mechanics to such an extreme height as to make it practically impossible for the missionary to employ them. Again, he has around him raw natives, who need to be taught to work, and his ambition is to do mission work in connection with his building.
Elder Steigerwald was equal to the emergency, and together with the help of Brother Doner and the natives, he completed the house in a little over a year from the time he began to haul the stone. The house is large, having nine good-sized rooms, with a fireplace in each one. There is a broad veranda nearly all around it and an iron roof over the whole, and it is a building that would be a credit to any one. The building is high and dry and has good board floors in four of the rooms, which add much to the healthfulness of it. Brother Steigerwald could no doubt tell you, if he would, of many days of arduous toil, which threatened to undermine his health; of many difficult and perplexing questions which confronted him in the process of construction; of lying awake at night, planning how everything was to be accomplished; especially how he was to build three fireplaces opening into one chimney and all have a good draft--a feat which he most successfully accomplished.
There were natives who lightened some of the heavier parts of the work, but to train these to perform their work properly is often a greater task than to do it one's self. This training must be done, however, if the missionary is faithful to his trust of developing the native character along useful lines as well as in giving him the Gospel. One of the officials, in making a report of the work, stated, "Here, at least, are missionaries who believe in teaching the natives the dignity of labor." This is the course pursued at all our stations. To train them properly is no easy task. It requires much wisdom, patience, firmness, and love. One meets with many discouraging results and often with great ingratitude on the part of those instructed; yet in the end it pays, if natives are ever to be brought to a more civilized plane of living.
There is one thing which operates strongly against the natives respecting labor. The average European, on coming to Africa, even though he may have been a day laborer and hard-working man in the country from which he came, soon sees that the more menial tasks fall to the natives; and when he takes the hoe or pick or shovel, he is told, "We do not do that here. Let the nigger do it and you oversee." The majority do not need a second invitation, and so such work is relegated to his black neighbor. The native soon sees, or thinks that he sees, that the white man regards manual labor as beneath him. This training is exactly what the African finds in his own home. He leaves the distasteful and hard tasks to his wife and the younger members of his family, while he sits down and enjoys himself. He is thus confirmed in his belief that labor is degrading.
Not so with the missionary. He works continually along many lines, and seeks to teach the native by his example, as well as by precept, the dignity of labor, and that only indolence, dirt, vice, and kindred evils are degrading. It is true that on account of climatic conditions and the many duties falling continually to men and women on the mission field, they are obliged, as their field of labor widens, to leave many lines of work to the natives they have in training. If they did not do this the spiritual part of the work and their own health would greatly suffer in consequence.
Perhaps some one might ask, Do those ignorant blacks ever learn to be cleanly and do their work properly? Yes, some of them respond in a surprisingly short period of time to faithful, energetic, yet patient training, and become real helpers to the missionary, both in the house and outside. Some, in addition to handling the oxen on the farm, also learn to use hammer, saw, chisel, and plane, and work side by side with white mechanics in certain lines of work.
While the house was being built at the Matopo Mission, Matshuba, still quite a young lad, was an interested spectator of everything that was done, and he himself did carefully whatever he was able to perform.
When he found a small piece of lumber which was not likely to be used, he would say, "Mufundisi [Missionary], may I have this?" If permission was granted he carefully put it away, but said nothing. After several pieces had been obtained, he asked permission to use tools and work-shop on Saturday afternoon, when other work was stopped. He worked away in the shop, asking questions of no one. After a few weeks had passed he finally surprised us by showing a neatly-made chair, patterned after one that had been purchased in town. He gradually learned to do all kinds of work, as well as to build himself a good dwelling house.
There are almost insurmountable difficulties, however, in the way of teaching the trades to the natives as a means of earning money. The cry of the country is for industrial schools and for native skilled labor, but almost in the same breath the European will tell you that he will not work side by side with the native in the same line of work. A gentleman in Bulawayo had a contract for a fine, large building. His mechanics were white, while the blacks were the attendants. Being in need of more skilled labor, he sent south to the more civilized portion of the country for a native mechanic, and of course paid his way to Bulawayo. The white mechanics absolutely refused to work with this native and threatened to strike. The only course left for the contractor was to pay the native some wages and his fare home. This was no heathen native, but one who had grown up amid civilized surroundings, and no doubt his parents also were civilized.
We do not wish to criticise such mechanics, for here, in a land where the blacks so far outnumber the white population, there are many things to be considered. But with these facts staring the missionary in the face, there is little inducement for him to spend a great deal of time in training natives. The only course left which will give the native any chance at all in some sections of the country is for a contractor to have all native mechanics. He might then be employed by the more broad-minded Europeans, but be boycotted by others. Notwithstanding these difficulties, industrial training in its broadest sense is very important on the mission field, and it is encouraged by the governments.
It enables the natives to improve their condition and way of living and to earn more money.
While these changes and the industrial training were in progress, the intellectual and spiritual part of the work was not neglected. New boys were continually coming, and some who came during these years were destined to be of help in after years. First was Nyamzana, who began to follow the Lord before coming as a boarder. Although not so quick in books as some, yet he was a faithful and devoted Christian, never giving his missionaries any uneasiness as to his spiritual standing. There were also Nkwidini, Mlobeka, and Mahlenkle. The last named was a nephew of the late king, and he had begun to attend school when the Lehmans were teaching at the kraal of the chief. He was an exceptional native, most steady and unassuming, ready and willing for any task assigned him. I have mentioned these names because they with others already referred to were among our future evangelists and teachers. Nor do I wish to forget Kolisa, a son of Buka, whom we visited up in the hills.
Not all, however, continued to remain at the mission. Some left, never to return. Others went away to work for a time, that they might obtain more money and then return again to enter school. The new boys as they came generally showed a desire to leave their old heathen lives and become Christians. Others were a cause of great anxiety to us. There were times of heart-searching and crying out to God, which showed that His Spirit was still at work in their hearts. One after another would come and confess their temptations and failures, and ask for prayer and help that they might be more victorious over evil. Some would receive definite help and blessing, while others seemed, for some reason, unable to take hold of the Lord by faith. Often we would feel greatly encouraged over the progress some were making, and look forward to their becoming able helpers and soul-winners for Him, only to have our hopes and expectations suddenly dashed to the ground. This was all a part of our training as missionaries. The Lord was teaching us by these experiences to take our eyes off individuals and fix them upon Him. He was also giving us sufficient encouragement, day by day, through some who were steadfast, to enable us to realize that our labor was not in vain for the Lord. There were a number in the inquirers' class, and in July, 1902, three more were baptized by Brother Steigerwald. Of this number were Ndhlalambi and Nyamazana.
The attendance at school was not as satisfactory as could be desired.
The authority of the parents being paramount in the home, if there was anything to be done, such as digging in the gardens, herding, keeping the animals from the gardens, or running errands, the children must stay at home and attend to it. An early morning school was also started for those who could not attend at midday, and this enabled some of the herdboys to attend.
The parents were especially opposed to their daughters attending school, because they became unwilling to marry the old men to whom they were betrothed. As we mentioned previously, several girls did come to stay at the mission. One of them was Ganukisa, a daughter of the king. She was a very nice, modest girl and proved a great help in many ways. She also became a Christian and member of the Church. Another girl, Zwadini, ran off from home twice and came to us, imploring us to save her from the man her parents were forcing her to marry. We tried to buy her freedom, but to no avail, and she finally was forced to return home and marry the choice of her parents. At this time we had no right by law to interfere in these matters, however much we longed to free some of these dear girls from their lives of slavery. It required time and prayer and much looking to God before a certain amount of freedom of choice was granted the daughters, and then it came through an action of the government.
In the school some were making good progress. English and some other branches had been added to the curriculum, but the Bible continued to be the chief Textbook, and some were acquiring a fair understanding of it.
Natives have generally a keenness of discernment and a clear grasp of the subject, so that it is necessary for the teacher to be well prepared for any question that may arise. The one who was first at the mission was a philosopher and a keen thinker. Nothing seemed to escape him. I have heard him deliver most excellent sermons and bring far more out of a Sunday-school lesson than the ordinary teacher. One day in reading the book of Isaiah, he came to the eighteenth chapter. He knows nothing about Ethiopia, but after he had finished reading, I inquired what people the prophet referred to. He thought for a moment and then exclaimed, "I believe he means us, the black people."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Continuation of the Work
Furlough
The missionary, however robust he may be, cannot keep at his work all the time; for he generally works seven days in a week and fifty-two weeks in a year. After a few years of such labor it is necessary to call a halt, if one does not wish to break down altogether. New missionaries can take much of the burden, yet those who have something of the language and can speak to the people must be ready in season and out of season, to talk, interpret, explain, as well as to have heart-to-heart talks with the people.
I had now been actively engaged on the mission station for four strenuous years and was greatly in need of a rest and change. The Board at home, as well as the missionaries on the field, had been urging me to go south for a few months. The only difficulty in the way was the need of some one to take the school, and so we had been looking forward to the return of Brother and Sister Lehman from Cape Town to take charge of it. They, however, had been looking on the fields for mission work at the Compounds on Johannesburg, and had decided to go there. As a last resort we decided to ask Matshuba to do the teaching. He was capable of doing it, and he was also becoming able to do some interpreting from English into the vernacular.
Before this happened an event occurred which more or less concerned all South Africa, and especially Rhodesia. I refer to the death, on March 26, 1902, of Cecil Rhodes at his home, Groot Schuur, near Cape Town, the place where he had so kindly received Brother Engle on our first coming to Africa. It had been his request to be buried in Rhodesia, the country that bore his name. In the Matopo Hills was a beautiful spot which he had discovered and to which he gave the name, "View of the World." This is about fifteen miles from Matopo Mission, as the crow flies, but over twenty-five miles by wagon road. Here, on the summit of a large granite hill, in the heart of Matopo, is the spot he selected to be his last resting place.
When the body was brought to Bulawayo, thousands of people, both white and black, vied with each other in paying a last tribute of respect to him who had done so much for the development of the country. The natives realized that they had lost a friend that could not be replaced; and the white people believed that no one could carry out so successfully many of the public affairs with which he was associated. When the funeral procession reached the burial place, the heavy casket was raised to the top of the granite hill. Into the solid rock a grave had been cut, and into this the casket was lowered. The grave was then covered by an immense granite slab, on which was fastened a large brass plate with this inscription: "Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes."
A part of his property was left for the improvement of the country to which he had devoted his time and talents. His two large estates in Rhodesia, together with an annuity, were bequeathed to this country; and his fine and well-built estate near Cape Town was given over for the use of the government of Cape Colony, but the grounds are continually opened to the public. The Rhodes scholarships for various countries, including two for each State in the United States, were given with a hope of cementing nations together. He wished no monument to be erected over his grave, but near the place is the Shangani Monument to the memory of those who fell in the Matabele War. The grounds have been beautifully laid out and a well-built road extends from Bulawayo to the grave. On his estate at Cape Town is a granite monument seventy feet long, built near the seat overlooking both the Atlantic and the Indian Oceans, where he used to sit and lay his world-wide plans. There is a sad feature connected with his life, like that of many other men whom the world calls great. While he made so much provision for earthly things, there seems to be no evidence that he made provision for eternity.
During this year there also died near us a native who had been more or less interested in the work, by the name of Fusi. He had been a prominent soldier under King Lobengula, and also remembered the first king, Mzilikazi. He loved to talk about the good old days, and could tell of a visit that Rev. Moffat, the father-in-law of Livingstone, once made to this country. He said, "I remember Chete [Rev. Moffat] quite well. I was just a young man at the time and King Mzilikazi treated Chete nicely. He said to me, 'Go and milk a cow and bring some milk for the missionary.'"
This old warrior, however, never showed any desire to become a Christian; but he was always glad to have his people attend school, and his youngest son was one of the first communicants. The native finally became sick with dropsy, and when we visited him during his sickness, he said an enemy had bewitched him, adding:
"Before the white man came into the country we put all the witches to death and we were well. Now we are not allowed to kill them and we must suffer."
Later we again visited him. When asked if we should sing for him, he replied, "Yes, sing one of the old hymns you used to sing when Missionary Engle was alive." We did so, and he too joined his quavering voice in the chorus. He also listened most attentively to the Scripture reading and comments that day, and joined us in prayer. What thoughts these things stirred in his heart we know not, for that was the last time we saw him.
In July of this year the time finally came for our furlough. I took a ticket from Bulawayo south to Port Elizabeth. This was shortly after the close of the Boer War, and all along the railway in the south were to be seen the blockhouses erected to guard the railway from destruction. Here and there were the demolished farmhouses and the orchards and beautiful groves that had been leveled to the ground. Worst of all were the many graves--mute testimony to that saddest of all human employment, human butchery. Kimberley already was recovering from this terrible siege.
This was still a small town, its chief attraction being the great masses of blue earth surrounding it. This diamondiferous blue rock is mined far down in the earth, where it had been formed under great pressure; and when brought to the surface, the combined action of rain and sun slakes it somewhat like quicklime. It is then washed, which removes the lighter earth, leaving the diamonds and other precious stones.
From this place I went to Port Elizabeth, which is 1,200 miles south of Bulawayo. It is the principal seaport of Cape Colony, as it furnishes a shorter and more direct route into the interior than Cape Town does.
This is a town of about 35,000 inhabitants, but there is nothing especially inviting about the place except its thriving business. It has been said of it: "Out of sand-hills and scrub, Anglo-Saxon energy has created a town that, for cleanliness and health, and for the handsomeness of its business buildings, is second to none in South Africa." After a stay of a few days at this place I took the steamer _Norman Castle_ for Durban, where the greater part of my vacation was to be spent.
Durban is the seaport and largest town of Natal, and has nearly 70,000 inhabitants. The business part is low and often quite hot, but the part known as the Berea is high and cool, and has many fine dwelling houses.
Natal is more thickly populated than other parts of South Africa. It has a most luxuriant vegetation and varied and picturesque scenery, and well deserves the appellation, "Garden of South Africa." In this warm, moist, subtropical climate of the coast many delicious and tropical fruits are grown. This is the home of the Zulu tribe of Africans, of which the Matabele are a branch.
My special purpose in coming to this section of the country to rest was to make my furlough as profitable as possible, and to gain information helpful for mission work. Missionaries had been in this section of the country the greater part of the nineteenth century. The American Board had started their work some time in the '30s, and this formed an excellent opportunity of seeing some of the fruits of missionary labors.
I spent some time at an English Mission under Mr. Eyles at Imbezana, at a Free Methodist Mission and girls' school, Fairview, and at four missions of the American Board--a boys' school at Adams, a large girls'
school at Inanda, and one at Umzumbi, and also visited their work at Durban, in charge of Rev. Bridgeman. At all these places I was most hospitably entertained and given every opportunity for studying the work. It was an inspiration to see what God had wrought among these erstwhile heathen. Here were large boarding-schools, and natives living like white people in neat brick houses, built by themselves. Here were missionaries, like Mrs. Edwards and Mrs. Bridgeman, grown old in this soul-saving work, and yet so attached to the natives and the work that they could not think of leaving the country.
Natal, like Cape Colony and the Transvaal, can no longer be called heathen Africa, as so many of the natives are civilized. The large cities of white people are built in modern style, with all the latest improvements, electric lights, street cars, telephones, and the like, and since then automobiles. There are also many white farmers, as well as small towns of white people, throughout the country. Missionaries of many societies are here in this densely-populated and easily-accessible district of Natal. This is considered one of the greatest fields for the overlapping of missionaries, perhaps, to be found anywhere, yet all seem to have plenty to do.
With all the advantages for improvement which the Africans here possess, I was surprised to meet, within a mile or two of one of the oldest mission stations, natives with paint and grease, and when the evangelists go to the homes of the people they still find some raw heathen. Some not only do not and will not accept Christ, but they also prefer their dirty, indolent, ignorant way of living to that introduced by civilization.
At Durban I took the train to go north to Johannesburg, a distance of 480 miles. The war had been over for some time, yet it was still necessary to procure a pass to enter Johannesburg. This I procured through Brother Lehman, who was then at Johannesburg. People were flocking thither as fast as they could procure passes and trains to carry them. The trains were crowded every day, and one was obliged to book ahead in order to secure a seat. This ride to Johannesburg is a delightful one, so far as the scenery is concerned, but the winding railroad is exceedingly rough and uncomfortable. One passes through a landscape most beautiful and varied, from the green, grassy hills of the coast, through mountains and valleys, to the high, rolling veldt of the Rand, where the famous gold reefs of South Africa are to be found. In this journey one leaves the sea level at Durban and gradually rises to the height of 6,000 feet at Johannesburg. It is said of this place: "In 1886 the site was nothing but a bleak, bare plain, that could have been bought for one hundred pounds. Then came the discovery of gold reefs east and west for sixty miles, and stores, public buildings, and churches sprang up with marvelous rapidity." This is now the largest, richest, and most modern city of South Africa, and the Rand is this sixty miles of gold-reef mines.
At these mines are many thousands of natives from all parts of South Africa, and when they are not at work they are confined in large enclosures known as "Compounds." This furnishes the missionary an excellent opportunity of doing mission work among this conglomerate mass of natives. The great variety of languages is one hindrance in the way, but if the missionary is able to speak one of the chief divisions of the Bantu family of languages, such as the Zulu, he can generally find some native to interpret for him into other languages.
In this mission field we found our beloved colaborers, Brother and Sister Isaac Lehman, who had just come from Cape Town and were becoming settled in their new home. A dear little girl, Faith, had come to bless their home and cheer their hearts. Brother Jacob Lehmans also were engaged in mission work here, as well as our dear Sister Swanson (nee Hershey), who had left us at Cape Town to come to this place. As our Board had no mission station here at that time, these were all laboring in connection with an undenominational mission in charge of Mr. A. W.
Baker. All were actively engaged in mission work. It is a broad field and is a great opportunity for giving the Gospel to the heathen.
However, one has the same obstacles to encounter as in the native village, _i. e._, the indifference of the people. While we would be having a service in one part of the Compound, other natives would be dancing within sight in another part, and often be making such a noise as to disturb the meeting. One difficulty with the work is that the natives often remain at the mines only six months or a year, not sufficiently long to get them established. Much good is, however, being done; schools are established to teach the natives when they are not at work, and services are held regularly at various places. Natives, accepting the Light, carry it to other parts of Africa, and sometimes become teachers of their people.
After spending a most enjoyable month at this place I again returned to Matopo Mission, after an absence of three and one-half months. It was a pleasure to get back to the old battle ground, for it was still the most beautiful spot on earth and its people the dearest. Great changes had taken place during our absence. Then the foundation of the house had been laid and the brick burnt, but now an imposing structure met the eye and the house was rapidly being completed. It looked as if the missionaries had come to stay and were to have a comfortable place to live in.
The school was progressing favorably under Matshuba's management, and all parts of the work seemed encouraging. As there was continually some difficulty about the stability of some of the industrial pupils, it was decided to divide the school year into two terms of five months each, with a month's vacation intervening in which the pupils could return home if they so desired. This worked well and seemed more satisfactory to all. The one who had been teaching was retained as pupil teacher and was also permitted to take advanced work.