Additional Reinforcements. Preparing to Build
In June, 1908, we were pleased to receive additional reinforcements in the persons of Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Wenger, who had lately arrived from America and felt called to the work at Macha. Accompanying them were Elder and Mrs. Steigerwald, who came to pay us a visit and to see about the work.
There was now a strong force of missionaries at the place, and it was thought that better and more permanent buildings should be erected. The mission had been in progress nearly two years, and David and Gomo had been active both dry seasons in erecting buildings—and they were good buildings of their kind. From what has already been given, however, of the ravages of the white ants, it can easily be seen that such buildings were very unsatisfactory and of short duration. To make others of the same kind would require the missionaries to be continually building.
My opinion in reference to missionaries' houses and surroundings had gradually and materially undergone a change since I first entered the mission field. My firm conviction on entering had been that missionaries should be as approachable as possible, and that they should endeavor to get on a level with their people; not in their dirt and filth, not in their ignorance and degradation, but, leaving out these essentially objectionable features, they should seek to imitate as much as possible Him Who had no certain dwelling-place and went about doing good. He became one with the people wherever He went, "Made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant." He of course is the Great Exemplar, after Whom the missionaries, His messengers, are to pattern. The true missionary should and does esteem it a privilege to endure any necessary privation and hardship in the cause of the Master Whom he loves and seeks to imitate. Otherwise it would be impossible to carry the Gospel to the heathen. But our God is a wise God, and has promised wisdom to His children and to His messengers, which He expects them to use on the mission field as well as elsewhere; so that they may adapt themselves to their surroundings and do that which will best advance His Kingdom.
The missionary goes to his field of labor. He builds himself huts of poles, mud, and grass. He does this carefully, that he may protect himself from the weather, the wild animals, and from the mosquitoes which bring fever. He provides his hut with furniture, manufactured by his own hand, so that it looks quite cozy and comfortable, and the poor natives as they look inside may conclude that if heaven is no better than this, it is at least worth striving for. The missionary himself for the time feels quite satisfied and happy in his surroundings and concludes that the place is good enough for anyone.
He opens his door and invites his dear dark friends to enter and sit and talk with him—a privilege which they greatly appreciate and the missionary also enjoys. Are not these the people for whom Christ died? Are not these the poor people to whom he is bringing the privileges of the Gospel? He loves to embrace every opportunity of getting into their hearts, and he feels keenly everything which separates and tends to form a barrier between them.
Time passes, and the rainy season comes. Perhaps the huts become damp and even mouldy in places, and gradually, as the ants continue their ravages, the walls crack and other difficulties arise. He is forced to be continually on his guard to protect himself. Mosquitoes enter, and he is incapacitated for work, by fever and other sickness. His health becomes undermined and his appetite gives way. The coarse food of the natives, if he has been using it, becomes distasteful and hurtful. Perhaps, if there is no way out of the difficulty, his life pays the penalty and his work on earth for God and the natives is stopped. This is no fancy picture. It has been repeated over and over again in this great "White Man's Graveyard."
Suppose, however, that by taking plenty of quinine and having considerable vitality to start with, he survives and continues successfully to combat disease; he soon finds that he must build a separate hut in which to meet the natives, or his house will be overrun with vermin and he cannot live in it. His hut, too, soon becomes a hiding place for snakes, rats, and lizards. He may pick up a piece of furniture and find a cobra lying beneath it, or go into the little kitchen and find a deadly puff adder beneath the cooking kettle. Even if he has in building kept as near to the natives as possible, they are in no haste to get rid of their filth and improve their manner of living. They have not yet seen the advantages of exerting themselves to that extent, unless they are members of the mission family and compelled to wash. Even then they may have conscientious scruples in reference to the matter, as one of our best boys at Matopo did. He was frequently remonstrated with for not keeping his clothing clean. He said that clean clothing made him feel proud.
Again, the missionary soon sees that his hut is going to pieces, and he must go over the laborious task every two or three years of building another, and at the same time constantly fight the ants, so that his life is one of long struggle with disease, pests, and building. When and how is he to give the Gospel? He concludes that he must make brick, build a house, and put on an iron roof, that it may be better protected from the mosquitoes and furnish good rain water. He makes a tank, so that he may have good drinking water instead of the muddy, disease-laden stuff which comes from the river. It will make more work for a time, but when completed he sees some result of his labor.
These reasons, any or all of them, are sufficient in the eyes of the missionary for building a good, substantial house, but there are other reasons, quite as patent to him, but they may not be to one who has never been in his place. The natives like to see their missionary build good dwellings, for then they think he has come to stay, and because he has come to stay and is willing to work and to train the natives, he sometimes has a better house than some of his white neighbors. And we are loath to think, as some affirm, that it is a reproach to be better housed, if he himself builds it.
There is another and more subtle reason for a good house, and one which the writer could not enter into until the last few years. If one has access to a town he has an opportunity to see other civilized places and has a change of scenery and companionship, which is both interesting and beneficial. Especially is this so to one who is continually surrounded with uncouth barbarism in its many forms. When, however, one is far removed from all civilized associations and sees nothing that is beautiful and uplifting, week after week, month after month, year after year; when all this time only dirt and squalor meet the eye as he steps off his own premises, his range of vision becomes so narrowed, his brain so benumbed by the monotony, that he feels he can endure it no longer. He is not tired of his services for the Master; he is not tired of the dark faces surrounding him; but his spiritual vision has become so befogged that, as he rises before the people to give them the message, he feels that he cannot give what he longs to. He cannot even take hold of God by faith in prayer as he did, and he must get away for a change.
But what has this to do with a good house? Just this: If one has a good home and pleasant surroundings, good and helpful literature and a few of the things which minister to the æsthetic as well as to the spiritual part of his nature, he has a change, at least, in his own home, and when he can snatch time, from the many duties which continually confront him, for a little quiet, the surroundings are pleasing and restful. He is then just that much better fitted to cope with the opposite conditions, and he can cope with them for a longer time and do better work for the Master. On the other hand, missionaries are human and make many mistakes, and we in the mission field need also to guard against the other extreme of spending too much time in beautifying our surroundings and making ourselves comfortable, to the neglect of that God-given message.
Even under the best of surroundings, physically, the missionary has enough to contend with. Circumstances over which he has no control, difficulties which far outweigh any already mentioned, meet him on every hand. As Rev. Stewart, of China, says, "'Agonia,' that word so often on St. Paul's lips—what did it mean? Did it not just mean the thousand wearinesses, and deeper, the stirrings, the travailings, the bitter disappointments, the deaths oft of a missionary's life?"
The natives often are so indifferent, so disinclined to exert themselves, that, after months and years of weary, persistent labor among them, the missionary often feels that little is accomplished. He dare build hopes on none but God, and must accept seeming success or defeat as alike from Him. This continual drain on his system is quite sufficient, without having to combat with poor dwellings, poor food, and unhealthful surroundings.
After the Brethren came, they concluded to start at once to make the preparations for building. Elder Steigerwald had had experience in this line of work, so he generously offered to start the rest in brickmaking. After a few weeks' visit he and Sister Steigerwald returned home and Sister Engle decided to accompany them for a change. David and Gomo also had been absent from their people for two years and wished to return, the former for a visit and the latter, perhaps permanently. We were very sorry to see all these leave at once, even for a few months, and especially David, whose assistance in the language and in interpretation was greatly needed.
Making Brick at Macha.
Brick Kiln. Mr. Jesse Wenger and Helpers.
The Brethren Taylor and Wenger, with the assistance of the schoolboys and some other natives, moulded and burnt a large kiln of brick. Brother Taylor attended to the moulding and Brother Wenger to building the kiln. This gave the boys training in another line of industrial work, and at the end of about six weeks a lot of excellent brick were ready for building. Unfortunately there was no money on hand to build a house, for the Board had not been informed of our needs in this respect, since brickmaking had been undertaken rather suddenly. It was therefore necessary to postpone building a house until the next dry season. Brother Wenger, however, erected two small brick buildings, with thatched roofs. One was for grinding and storing grain, and the other a two-roomed cottage. In the latter a room was fitted up for the occupancy of himself and wife, so that we were prepared for another rainy season.
One thing which was a serious handicap in the building and work that season was the condition of the oxen. After our return from Nanzela, in May, the oxen gave no indication of being bitten by the tsetse fly. Nearly a month later they were driven to Kalomo, a distance of about forty-five miles, and brought out a heavy load of goods on the arrival of our colaborers. They were also made use of in hauling sand for brickmaking; and in July, when Brother Steigerwalds returned home, they were again driven to the station. This time they made use of a new road and went east to Choma Station, a distance of only about thirty-six miles. By this time the oxen were showing signs of being bitten, and as there was no cure for them, they gradually became weaker and died, one by one, until we had lost nine, the last ones not dying until about six months after they were bitten. The fly injects a parasite into the blood, which gradually absorbs the red corpuscles, hence the lingering death.
It was a serious loss to the mission at the time, as they had been in use almost constantly in farming, hauling, and bringing out supplies. In the Syracuse plow it was necessary to use all ten of the oxen in this heavy clay soil, and also in hauling the wagon.
We still had a few, but there was not sufficient money on hand to purchase others at once. With eight ill-matched oxen, Brother Taylor undertook to go to Choma in November for the purpose of bringing out a six months' supply of goods and provisions, which had been sent up from Bulawayo. He took along five of the largest schoolboys to assist in carrying the goods across the bridgeless rivers. To add to the difficulty of the trip, grass was scarce at that season of the year, so that there was little food for the oxen. A little rain also fell while he was away and made the road muddy.
On returning with the load he was able to get within twelve miles of home when the oxen could go no farther. He sent four of the boys each with a load of goods to the mission, and a call for help. Several native men and about twenty schoolboys were sent to his assistance, and after they reached the wagon, Brother Taylor concluded to endeavor to come a little nearer home before resting for the night. Each of the natives carried a load, and he himself carried one hundred pounds of flour and drove the oxen. They came about two and one-half miles farther and then camped for the night. A fire was kindled, but as the night was dark and misty the fire burned low. The boys lay around this and Brother Taylor on the open wagon. He was aroused several times during the night by a disturbance among the oxen. Thinking it was caused by one of the new oxen which had given him some trouble, he arose at three different times during the latter part of the night to quiet them, but the darkness was too great for him to see what was the trouble. The last time it was dawning a little in the east, and he thought he discerned the form of an animal moving toward an ant hill in the vicinity. The boys were aroused and soon had a fire; and as the morning came they discovered by the spoors that two lions had passed along within a few feet of where the boys lay and had gored one of the oxen during the night. These were what Brother Taylor had been trying to chase. The reader can imagine the thankfulness of all of them, as well as of ourselves, when it was discovered how wonderfully the Lord had preserved them all from harm. We rejoiced when the goods as well as Brother Taylor and the boys were all safely at home, but the heavy wagon had to remain for a time on the veldt before it could be brought to the mission.
When the news of the misfortune to the oxen reached America the Lord inspired some of His children to send special donations for the purchase of others, and even before an account of the trouble had reached there some had heard of the need by way of the Throne and had sent money.