Many of our people have died from exposure to cold and heat, or from lack of comfort; many others from accidents, such as falling from the rubber vines, and many more from the pestilences of which I have told you.
White men, I tell you the truth: we are dying, soon our villages will be put out as a fire that is quenched.
And still we are working, still we are slaves to the white men.
And we have nothing to look forward to, as far as we can see, except constant work—and death. We have heard that when a man reaches what the white men call forty years of age his tax palaver is finished; but that time must be in very old age, for no one ever seems to become old enough to leave off work. No, the only rest we can look forward to is death!
The white men of God are still with us, and they still tell us the news of salvation from sin. That is good news.
But again I say that what we want to hear is the news of salvation from rubber. How long [[125]]before we shall hear that news? How long a time must pass before this “wuta” business is finished? How long shall we wait before we get a little rest—apart from death?
The End.
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON. [[127]]