The Battle Is not Yours, but God's
Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.—Eph. 6: 13.
The missionary going among the heathen must realize that he is about to engage in a warfare, and that the conflict will be fierce and long. He is assailing the great enemy of souls in his stronghold. The fight is on continually and one must keep armed for battle. More important yet than this the missionary should remember that he is under orders and that the work is not his but the Lord's.
The loss of our fellow-soldiers was most keenly felt, and there were some severe tests to face. The work had become disorganized by the continued illness and the deaths, when all our energies had been needed in caring for those about us. Encouraging letters, however, came from the homeland and the Mission Board, so that we realized that prayers were being offered in our behalf and in behalf of the work. We also expected that reinforcements would be forthcoming in the Lord's own time. So, under the leadership of our Great Captain, the army was again set in array and the conflict continued.
We were pleased to note that the people stood by us nobly in this extremity, even though Satan had put forth every effort to defeat the work. Some who had started to follow the Lord saw that they had become indifferent and renewed their covenant. There were four boys who were staying at the mission at this time, and they came one evening and said they would like to have a talk. This was not so strange, as we often had little confidential chats with them. On this particular evening they came in and sat down. Then, without any preliminary remarks, Matshuba arose and made a complete confession of his past life. He then sat down and Kelenki arose and began to do the same. I said,
"Boys, if you desire we will call Brother and Sister Lehman, that they may hear likewise."
They replied, "Yes, Miss, do so, for we desire to confess everything and have all wiped away, and we do not want to repeat our wrongdoings, for we want to be ready when Jesus comes."
So one of them called the Lehmans, and beginning again they arose, one by one, and told of their past life. When each one had finished he would turn around and inquire of the rest if he had told everything. Three of them were baptized members, and they evidently had been having a meeting in their hut and became concerned about their condition. They had not been guilty of any new sins, but were in doubt as to their standing before God, and wanted pardon and cleansing. They had taken 1 John 1: 9 very literally. When the confessions were finished we all knelt in prayer; and after we had prayed, they too most earnestly besought the Lord that they might be set completely free from their past life. When they arose to their feet their faces were shining and they said "God had heard and answered."
Then, as they sat there, they told of their old lives and of the lives of the people about us, until we felt that we were just beginning to know the people among whom we were situated. Conditions which, up to that time, they had been timid of telling, for fear of their people, they now boldly and fearlessly exposed, and they seemed to be done once and forever with their heathen past. Our hearts went up in gratitude to the Father, and our eyes were opened more and more to see the real need of this people and the obstacles in their way of becoming Christians.
People reared in Christian homes, with an entire Bible which they can read from childhood, with the privileges of church and Sunday-school, with good literature and hymns and many other advantages which might be mentioned, cannot possibly, by any stretch of imagination, put themselves in the place of those who are deprived of all these; and not only that, but who, from infancy, have been in an atmosphere of ignorance and superstition, reeking with influences the most foul and loathsome imaginable. Then, too, is it to be wondered at that when people, who have been brought up amid surroundings the most helpful possible, spiritually, and the most conducive to growth in grace, grow lean in soul and backslide—I say is it to be wondered at that the Christians in heathen lands, in their desperate struggle against such adverse and degrading surroundings, sometimes relapse into heathendom? Not only is it not to be wondered at, but it is positively surprising and a great cause for rejoicing among missionaries, that so many grasping hold of the Everlasting Arm do once and forever shake off the bog and filth of the bottomless pit and stand as monuments of His power to save to the uttermost.
During the dry season of 1900 an aggressive campaign against Satan and his followers among the rocks and strongholds was begun, for we felt that the Lord would have us press the battle to the gates. During the rainy seasons, when people are busy in their gardens, and when there is a great deal of sickness, both school and evangelistic work suffer, so that it is necessary to make the best use of the dry season. As soon as the crops were gathered the school at the mission increased in numbers and interest, and Brother and Sister Lehman opened a school at the village of Chief Hluganisa. They rode back and forth day by day, and when they were unable to go two of the boys were sent to teach. The attendance and interest there were encouraging.
What of this chief, who had so kindly received the missionaries two years before? It would be a pleasure to be able to report that he had opened his heart to accept Christ as his Savior, but such was not the case. He was very ready to receive the gifts of the white man, whether from officials, missionaries, or any one else. He was also quite willing that the school should be started in his village; for would not this make his people wiser and more able to secure the good things of the earth? But the white man's religion, he would none of it for himself. He was a most troublesome beggar from first to last. Elder Engle, had made him a present of a very good blanket, with which he was greatly pleased, but he seldom came to services. When he came to the mission it was always with the expectation of asking and receiving something.
One day he came to pay us sort of a state visit, and a little later his three wives followed in order of their rank. We were desirous of treating them all kindly after their long walk to pay us this visit, so Mother Engle concluded to give them bread and tea. A plate of bread, together with a quantity of tea and sugar, was placed before them. We expected, of course, that all would receive some. The chief appropriated everything; emptied all the sugar into the tea, drank all, and ate all the bread. When they started home the wives went first, the lowest in rank preceding, to prepare everything for their lord and master, who followed at his leisure. One day one of the missionaries, tried by his cupidity and avarice, gave him a straight talk. He did not return for some months after this, not until the funeral of Sister Cress. Until this day he continues to be a rank heathen, greedy, and superstitious, and a lover of wives and beer.
All three of us by this time were fairly well prepared in the language, and some of the boys were beginning to be helpful in evangelistic work. Early in the season the Lehmans, with one of the men as guide, made a tour to the southeast of us in a section not yet visited. They reported an interesting and profitable trip and met the people from six different kraals. As it was a section of raw heathendom, they were surprised to find, at one of the kraals, a woman who joined heartily in the hymn sung and was familiar with the words. On inquiry they found that when a girl she had lived at the house of Rev. Thomas, one of the first missionaries of Matabeleland. He had a station at some distance north of Bulawayo, and his memory is much revered by those natives who knew him. The brother and sister had the fortune, or misfortune, to be present at a beer drink. This is their way of getting a lot of work done: They make a quantity of beer; then call in their neighbors to help work, paying them with beer. It is surprising how much beer they can consume at such times. They often become quite boisterous and even intoxicated, and frequently quarrel and fight as a result of their debauch. On this occasion the men were friendly, but scarcely in a condition to receive the Gospel. The travelers returned tired, but rejoicing in the Lord because of another opportunity of sowing seed.
The life of a missionary is not full of exciting adventures and encouraging incidents. It is very ordinary at times and very crushing at others. The ups and downs would soon wear him out did he not take fast hold of God and, looking up by faith, keep saying to Him, "Lord, this is Thy work. Do Thou bear the burdens, the joys, and the sorrows that keep crowding thick and fast upon me, and let me be only Thy instrument and Thy weapon of warfare." I remember, during the first year, I at times felt I was not burdened enough for the souls about me, and once spent long hours of prayer, asking that the burden might rest more heavily. I retired to rest. The next day the Lord answered the prayer of His messenger. I thought it would crush me to the earth, but the lesson had been learned. He knows how much we can bear, and we should always say, "As Thou wilt."
In our visits among the people one day is much like another, but they must be made in order to keep in touch with them. August 17 I wrote as follows:
"One more day's work for Jesus,
One less of life for me,
But heaven is nearer and Christ is dearer,
Than yesterday to me.
His life and light fill all my soul tonight."This being Saturday, I arose early to go out among the people. After taking some food, I started a little after sunrise with Sihlaba as guide. We went to visit the kraal of Siponka, about two miles distant. These people have been on my mind for some time. They are good-hearted but veritable heathen, and care only for the good things of this life. They are entirely too indifferent to come either to school or church, although two, who were members, live here. The downward influence is too strong for even them, and seemingly they have done according to the proverb.
Early as it was in the morning, the people were nearly all away, but we found at home two men, some women, and boys and girls. There was an opportunity for giving the Gospel to them, and the Lord greatly helped in the presentation of His Word. They gradually became interested and seemed at least to have greater light. May the Lord send home the truth into their hearts!
Siyaya (one of the backslidden boys) went along with us to the home of Amuzeze (another member). Here there were a number of women, one man, and some young people. They were more willing than usual to listen, also more able to understand, and Amuzeze took part in prayer.
From there Siyaya also went along to Umvunzi's home. Poor boy! he followed us around, seemingly hungry for the Word, but helplessly overcome by the gross darkness surrounding him. At this last place there were only a few present. The men from all these kraals had gone a long distance to buy goats. Here the powers of darkness were so great that I could not shake off the feeling and have victory in speaking. I wonder what my spiritual status would be at the end of the year, if I were obliged to live long amid such surroundings; and yet I have Christ and His Spirit in my soul and much of His Word written in my heart, while these poor ones have only generations of paganism back of them.
We then turned our faces homeward, moving in something of a circle and coming first to Seba's village. This is not far from the mission, and yet it is our first visit to this place. The people seemed very glad to see us, and some here had the privilege for the first time of hearing the Gospel, and were eager to catch every word. While we were speaking, a native, carrying poles, was passing, and he put his poles down and entered to listen. He was a stranger to me. A tall fine-looking fellow he was. He informed us that he had moved near and was building a hut. Mapita and his wife also had entered during the services. Seba invited us to remain for dinner and eat of their inkobe (boiled corn), but it was not yet ready, so thanking him for his hospitality we continued our journey.
First, the stranger invited us to go over and see his wife and the hut he was building, which was only a short distance away. We did so and here we met two women from our nearest kraal. We then proceeded on our homeward way, and had gone only a short distance when we met John (a Christian) and his brothers, who followed us home.
On the way we stopped a few minutes at Mapita's home to see the children, and then reached the mission at midday. The boys remained a short time to talk. I then tidied my hut, made a dress and gave it to a little girl, and entertained a number of native women. After our three o'clock dinner and worship I read and studied the language, and here it is evening and the close of a very enjoyable day.
This account has been given, not because there was anything unusual about it, but because it is typical of many Saturdays on the mission field, and some of them have been days of the most exquisite enjoyment we have ever known. Such days never seem to become monotonous. One forgets the long and tiresome walk if he finds eager and interested listeners at the end. Even if some steel their hearts against the Word, there is still the consciousness to the messenger that he has done what he could. Then again much of one's time on the mission station is spent talking to the natives who come. They may not be anxious for the Gospel, but one always hopes some word or message may sink into their hearts.
The first few years of the mission, the country was occasionally visited by locusts, sometimes in such large swarms as almost to darken the face of the sky. These were not the seventeen-year cicadas, which some people are pleased to term locusts, but large grasshoppers, various kinds of which made their appearance to the great destruction of crops and vegetation. Sometimes the corn and the kafir corn would be stripped. Again, an immense swarm would come suddenly and alight—so that in a very short time the whole face of nature would be transformed from a bright green to a reddish brown, the color of the locusts—and would then as suddenly fly off without doing much harm. Wherever the locusts settled for the night, the natives would be there early in the morning with their nets and catch them for food.
The year 1900 was especially one of these locust years. During the dry season, the adult locusts selected suitable places, remained to feed for a time, then deposited their eggs in the earth and died. As at this time the insects cannot fly, the natives catch them in large numbers and carry them home for food. One such swarm settled about two miles from the mission, and thither day after day went the women and girls to catch them. They would put them in bags or large baskets and carry them home. One could often see ten or twelve women walking through our premises, each one carrying on her head a bushel or more of locusts. They would cook them in large earthen pots, then spread them on the rocks to dry, after which they would go for a fresh supply. When the locusts were dry they would be stored away for food. In eating them the natives would remove head, wings, and legs and eat them somewhat after the manner of dried herring, and considered them a great delicacy, saying, "They are our meat." We have partaken of them in this manner and found them not unpalatable, and they are certainly a cleaner food than many things eaten in civilized lands. The natives' favorite way of preparing the locusts, however, was to stamp them in a stamping block, then cook them, together with ground peanuts, into a gravy to be eaten with their porridge.
Although many of the locusts had been safely stowed away in the native storehouses, during this year, yet numbers remained in various parts of the country to lay their eggs in the ground. When the rains came and softened the ground these eggs hatched. After a colony hatched, the little wingless larvæ, or hoppers, started forth as an army, all going in one direction. These armies were generally about a rod or two in width and much greater in length, and woe to the young garden that came in their way! They would spread over it, devour the tender shoots, and then proceed in the same general direction in which they had been traveling. The natural grass and herbage of the country was too tough for them to eat. Not only one but several such armies coming from different directions passed through our gardens that season, and some of the cornfields had to be planted two or three times. One was finally left unplanted, while our potatoes and many of the garden vegetables were destroyed. At first we endeavored to fight them with fires when they were seen to be approaching a garden, but this was soon found to be useless. The missionaries felt the loss of their crops and vegetables, but their loss could not be compared with that of the poor natives, many of whom could not procure grain for a second planting, and they had nothing else to depend upon.
During this year we were seriously contemplating an advanced step in the work, by opening the way for more boys and girls to come as boarders. They would thus be given a Christian home and be trained to work and to habits of cleanliness. Up to this time the largest number staying at one time was four boys; and one girl had come lately. The day was not far distant when it would be necessary to erect better and more permanent dwellings, as the huts were already showing signs of decay; and if more boys could be received and these trained to make brick and assist in building, it would be an advantage both to the boys and to the mission. As the year drew near to a close there began to be a desire on the part of some of the older boys to attend school and perhaps come to stay with us. We knew enough of the native character to believe that it was best not to throw out any special inducement, as it is always best for them to desire a thing for themselves and to be fully persuaded in their own minds so that they might not be wavering.
On New Year's Day, 1901, after the close of the services, a boy, probably nineteen years of age, stood at the open door of my hut with rather a wistful look on his face. He was well dressed and had been working for white people, but had shown no interest in school or in the Gospel up to this time. Something in his face that day prompted me to say,
"Ndhlalambi, when are you coming to stay at the mission and give your heart to the Lord?"
He promptly replied, "I am coming one week from tomorrow."
Afterwards, in giving his experience, he said, "While I was working at the mines I became convicted of my wrongdoing and made up my mind that I would come to the missionaries and go to school and give my heart to Jesus. When I came I was afraid to ask and the Lord told Miss to ask me."
He did come and did yield his heart to the Lord, and seemed to settle it in his mind, if one may judge by subsequent actions. "I care not what course others may take, but as for me I will serve the Lord." He made a good confession and was always ready to step out into the light as it shone on his pathway. His way, however, was not an easy one. He met with violent opposition at times from an irascible pagan father, and persecution in various ways, but he stood firm. A special test came to him a year or two after he started to school. One day he came in great distress and said,
"Father is very angry with me. My mother's brother died and left me a lot of cattle and other property, and my parents wish me to go and claim the property. But if I go, they will have a big dance and claim to call back the spirit of my uncle and ask him his will about the property, and they will want me to take part in their worship. I desire to follow the Lord."
I said, "If you do not go perhaps you will not receive the property."
"That makes no difference," he replied. "I love the Lord more than I love the cattle. Only pray that father will not be angry with me for refusing to go."
Later he came with his face all aglow and said, "The Lord has heard our prayers. Father is not angry with me any more."
In school he was slow but persevering, and in work likewise. He had his faults, and seemed at times to be lacking in humility, yet he never seemed to waver in his determination to follow the Lord.
Several other young men also applied for admission, among whom was Gomo, a brother of Tebengo and Muza and Emyonleni; also two younger boys who were already Christians, Masikwa and Madhliwa. There were now nine boys, and several months afterward three girls came. These girls were trained by Sister Lehman to do housework. The work was looking quite encouraging, for all showed an interest in desiring to become Christians.
As this rainy season came on, it could not fail to remind us of the loss and of the trying times of the previous year. Some of our number thought it best to go to a more healthy place until the rains were over. This, however, would almost necessitate closing the work, which was not to be thought of.
In the midst of the rains, in March, Sister Lehman took down with the fever one day and on the following day her husband was also laid low. The buildings at Matopo are in a healthy place, yet during the rainy season one is always more or less exposed to fever, either by traveling and sleeping out, or even by going down to the gardens in the valley in the evening. At that time we did not understand so well how to check or combat the fever as in later years. So the sick ones grew worse and required my constant attention day and night for about ten or more days. Fortunately the boys were good helpers, as there were no girls at the time. Matshuba was able to take charge of the school; Ndhlalambi and one of the little boys could help me in the kitchen and sickroom; Gomo did the washing outside of the window where I could see and direct; and the other boys attended to the gardens.
As the sick ones grew worse we sent a boy for a doctor, but on account of the damp, rainy weather, he delayed several days before coming, so that the fever was broken by the time he reached the mission. It was a trying time and one of looking to the Lord on the part of the sick and the well ones. To make matters worse some of the boys became quite ill, and we were unable to give them the attention they needed. One day Kelenki, who was very low, managed to crawl to the kitchen and begged to be allowed to lie there by the stove. Mrs. Eyles kindly came out from Bulawayo when at last the doctor was able to reach us. She remained for a week during their convalescence and cared for the sick. This gave me a much-needed rest and an opportunity to turn my attention to the boy, who was still quite ill and needed help. It was a day of rejoicing when our brother and sister and all were restored to health, and we were thankful that the Lord had mercy upon us, lest we should have sorrow upon sorrow.
During the time we were passing through these afflictions, another difficulty was staring us in the face, which threatened, if possible, to be more serious than any which we had yet been called upon to meet. This was the land question. Mention was made that we were looking toward the erection of more permanent buildings. We had sent to the Board for money for this purpose; also for money to survey the land. Up to this time the 3,000 acres upon which the mission had been located by the government, had not been surveyed. It had been given only as a reservation for mission purpose, and permission had also been granted that the missionaries could stake off a plot of 3,000 acres and make a diagram without going to the expense of employing a government surveyor, as that kind of work is costly in Africa. For this purpose, the year previous, four of us, Brethren Engle and Cress, together with Sister Heise and myself, started out to stake out the land, supposing, as we had been informed by the official who located the mission, that the two beacons north of us were the limit of the surveyed territory. We climbed hills, went over precipices, and waded swamps under a hot August sun and made a diagram of the desired farm, only to find at the close that the result was not satisfactory to the government. It was necessary for a government survey to be made, and this had not been done; but we had sent for money for the purpose, and the money had just arrived.
The day on which Sister Lehman took sick, two Europeans brought some cattle and put them in our pen, from which the company's cattle had been removed the previous year. They did not ask for permission to place these cattle on the mission farm, and to us it seemed rather a bold step. They informed us, however, that they thought a mistake had been made in locating the mission, and that we were on surveyed land. They stated that they were not certain in reference to the matter, as the owners did not know the exact boundary of their farm.
The Charter Company, of Rhodesia had, especially at the close of the war, made large concessions of land to companies, syndicates, and individuals. These grants often comprised many thousands of acres, and in many instances the owners, in the early days, did not know the location of their land. They simply sent out a surveyor to measure and stake off the requisite amount and erect beacons; then the land was left entirely unimproved. If they were fortunate enough afterwards to know the boundaries of the farms, they often sent out an agent to collect tax of the natives living on it. The best of the land being disposed of, very little remained for farmers, who would have improved the land, or for missionaries, who would both improve it and instruct the natives. No doubt the government, when too late, realized their lack of wisdom in making some of these grants, as it greatly retarded the work of building up and developing the country.
This was the condition of affairs when Matopo Mission was located. We had, however, no intimation that a mistake might have been made in the location, until informed by the two Europeans previously mentioned. One of them desired to collect hut tax for the company owning the land, but this he could not do, as he was not certain of the boundaries, and the company, at the time, was not willing to bear the expense of having a surveyor come out to locate the land. It is needless to say that it was a dark and trying time for the missionaries. If we were on surveyed land, we might have to change the mission site and much of the work already accomplished would be lost. Again, how were we to find out where we were? If a wealthy company did not care to bear the expense of locating their land, how much less able were missionaries, whose purses, at the best, are never too full! Should we go to the expense of sending for a surveyor to locate us, we might be forced to move the mission, and the outlay incurred would benefit the company alone. We were in these wilds; could we succeed in locating ourselves?
As usual, when difficulties thus confronted us, we looked to Him who never fails. Any one in the mission field has often reasons to be thankful for the varied training and experiences of the home land; for no knowledge or previous experience of whatever sort comes amiss when he is out where there is little outside help. We had studied, hence had a little knowledge of surveying. Would that knowledge help us here in these fastnesses?
Mr. Jackson, the magistrate at Fort Usher, who had always been a friend in need, was appealed to. He did not know the boundaries of the farms in the immediate vicinity, but he knew the location of one important beacon several miles north, for he had had occasion to settle a difficulty in reference to it some time previous. So, with this knowledge to begin with, we went to the government surveyor and secured a diagram of all the farms in the vicinity of the mission. Thus equipped, and securing a compass, we started for home. Brother Lehman made a temporary chain, and together with some of the boys we went to the beacon pointed out by Mr. Jackson. From this a survey was made south, and it was discovered that the mission was on a tract of land known as "Matopo Block," owned by the Bulawayo Syndicate. This was a farm of 25,000 acres, and it was about twelve miles long. As there were no beacons for a distance of seven miles on the south of the mission, it was not difficult to understand how the mistake was made in the location. By further survey we discovered that we were on the extreme east end of this farm, and a line drawn nearly southeast from the beacon north of us would give the mission the required 3,000 acres. Another surveyed farm lay adjoining this on the east.
We had located the mission, but it remained to induce the government to arrange with the syndicate and give them land elsewhere in exchange for the amount promised to the mission. It is needless to enter into the details of the slow process necessary for settling the difficulty, for any one dealing with the affairs of government knows something of the tediousness and red tape required. Letters were addressed to both the government and to Mr. Rhodes, who was then on his estate near Bulawayo. The government officials met the question in a spirit of conciliation and fairness, promising to do all in their power to bring it to a satisfactory settlement. We were asked later to make further survey, to be certain that we had given the correct location. At one time it appeared that the exchange could not be made, and we were requested to look up another location. Looking to the Lord, we made another appeal, which resulted, in September of the same year, in the mission being allowed to retain its location. At first this was to have been only a reservation, but the final papers, which were not made out until late in 1902, resulted in giving a ninety-nine-year lease, which was much more satisfactory.