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.
"Here lie the remains of Cecil John Rhodes."
There was again opportunity for me to visit in their homes. So, accompanied by some of the boys or girls, we made long excursions on foot among the people, sometimes walking from eight to twelve miles and meeting many people. Because so many missionaries had left them and did not return, they were not a little pleased to see me back, and, native-like, were inclined to make flattering speeches. One day we visited nine kraals, and everywhere had attentive listeners, and the people seemed to be hungry for the Word. At another time we went to Sibula's village for the first time, where we met and gave the Gospel to over one hundred people. They had never been visited before and seemed anxious for a school. Later they built a schoolhouse, and Nyamzana was given to them as a teacher.
One day when we were out to the kraals we happened to come to a beer drink, where they were having a digging-bee.
They said, "Why does not Missionary Steigerwald invite the people to come and dig his large gardens? He is so busy with building."
"Will you come if he invites you?" we asked.
"Certainly we will," they replied.
When we reached home we told Brother Steigerwald what they said, and he at once thought it a splendid opportunity for getting his corn planted. So he appointed a day and sent out invitations to the people. One hundred and sixty-four adults with their hoes came and digged and planted an eight or ten-acre lot. It was an interesting sight to see that many people digging in one place. They would usually sing a native song, and with their hoes keep time to the music. They performed this piece of work without pay, and of course received no beer, but a generous supply of bread and tea was furnished them, which they greatly enjoyed. These Matabele are always very ready to come out to work when invited, and in this respect they were a contrast to some natives. When hired to do work, however, it was necessary to make them keep their promise and come at the time appointed, and also finish their work.
Sister Steigerwald was much amused at Sibongamanzi shortly after she came to the mission. My hut needed replastering, and Sibongamanzi was engaged to do the work. The appointed day arrived, but the girl did not come according to her promise, and as the work was urgent I employed another girl to do it. The next day Sibongamanzi came to do the work and was quite disappointed to find some one else had accomplished it.
I said, "Why did you not come yesterday according to your promise?"
"I am sure a person has a right to change her mind," she replied.
"Yes, I think so, too, so I employed some one else."
In school one is obliged to use the English word for such articles as slate, pencil, and paper, since there is no word in the language for these things. When Steigerwalds came, there were also a number of boxes of goods sent out; and in unpacking these a pencil fell out. Sister Steigerwald picked it up, and handing it to Masikwa, said, "Here is a pencil." He was most delighted, and came and said, "The Inkosikazi [Mrs.] can speak our language already. She said 'Pencil.'" Sister Steigerwald, together with the other sisters, had their own experiences in teaching natives in the kitchen and housework, as well as in sewing. She proved most capable and patient in training various ones to be cleanly and to do their work properly.
The services at the mission were well attended at this time, and sometimes we were obliged to have an overflow meeting. Natives would come fifteen miles to be present at the Sunday services. "Our little church is too small," said some. "We need a new one."
Our congregations were gradually emerging from barbarism, and their appearance on Sunday was often quite striking. Some of the boys and young men would come, clean and neatly dressed in European clothes, including hat and shoes, and exhibit good taste in the selection of their clothing. Some again came well dressed but without shoes; others would appear partly dressed, but anxious to display all the clothing they had. Perhaps on a sweltering, hot day some would don a heavy winter overcoat reaching below the knees, or a heavy suit of bright red flannel. Another would have on a coat turned wrong side out to show all the colors, and a vest outside of this, while a number continued to wear the purely native garb of skins. A few of the girls were neatly clothed in dresses; others in short skirts with or without a cloth thrown over their shoulders. Some of the women's clothing was very modest and picturesque.
Natives, especially at this stage of their advancement, do not as a rule dress according to the weather, for to them clothing is more or less a matter of ornamentation and they don it accordingly. One must be very careful about placing special emphasis upon clothing, as the native is naturally vain, and when he is able to be better clothed his vanity often increases. He soon thinks that if he is clothed he is a Christian, or if he goes to school and learns he is a Christian. He is quite ready to put on these outward semblances of civilization without yielding himself to God. If the missionary is willing to accept the outward form of Christianity, whether of clothing or ceremonials, he may soon have a large membership. He must continually guard against these things, and seek to know the inner life of those about him, and their daily walk; nor is it always easy to ascertain what is beneath the surface. Hypocrisy is not at all unusual.
Early in our work there was a native who came occasionally to our services. He had worked in Bulawayo and attended one of the native churches sufficiently long to gain a smattering and lingo of Christianity. He came clothed in black broadcloth and carrying a book under his arm, and withal seemed a person of some consequence. He was a brother of one of our boys, and we were informed that he could read. One day in church, at the close of the services, he asked permission to say something, and not knowing what was coming we gave him permission. He arose and began to read out of his book and then talked. Again he read and talked in a preaching way until he was finally requested to sit down. As we were suspicious from his manner in regard to his ability to read, we took occasion to test him and found that he knew absolutely nothing about reading. What he gave had been memorized, and we learned that his life too was decidedly corrupt. This taught us how necessary it was to be careful of the stranger who came and claimed to be a Christian.
December 26, 1902, there was a most welcome addition to the mission family in the person of a little son to Brother and Sister Doner. This was the first white child at the mission, and it was quite a curiosity to the natives. Of course every one must have a look at it, and happy was the one who might touch or hold this wonderful white baby.