South and South Central Africa / A record of fifteen years' missionary labors among primitive peoples

by Hannah Frances Davidson

We are going in the large two-seated spring wagon with a white canvas top, sent out by the Board two years ago. One of the seats is removed, and in the back part of the wagon is placed a box containing food, dishes, and the like equipments for our meals. There is also put in a large five-gallon can of good drinking water, two folding canvas bedsteads, a bundle containing bedding, and a mosquito net, and underneath the wagon in a framework is a tent which we have lately acquired. There is also a small bag of cornmeal, a tin of ground peanuts, some dried greens for the boys, and some whole peanuts for all of us. Where the dashboard was originally is now a long box in which are placed kettles and cooking utensils. And we do not forget to stow away in the box of the seat a quantity of bananas and lemons, of which the mission has an abundance; also some fresh vegetables. A small canvas bag, in which the drinking water is cooled, hangs on the side of the wagon. Four oxen are inspanned and one boy takes hold of the strap in front to lead the oxen, and another, with a long, slender pole, to which is tied a long, slender leathern lash, drives. He sometimes sits on the box in front and sometimes runs along the side.

We remember the times, not so very long ago, when we were not so comfortably equipped for traveling as we are at present. We walked many weary miles to see the people, and thoroughly enjoyed it too, even though the hard earth at times was our bed and the open canopy of heaven our tent, and native food in part supplied our needs. Then it was not possible to visit as many places in a day as now, and frequently when we arrived we were too tired to do justice to the Word. Then also we failed to reach many villages, because of the distance. Now it seems almost too good to be true that we are so well supplied, for the Lord has again wonderfully verified His precious promise, "to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." Praise His Holy Name! Yet we would not, if we could, do away with those early days and the blessings attending them, and we are better able to appreciate present favors by contrast.

School at Kabanzi Village.

Usually we endeavor to start not later than sunrise, so that we may travel in the cool of the morning; for the sun becomes quite hot in the middle of the day, and it is advisable then to be under shelter. At this time, November, however, the morning is cloudy, so that we may have rain; but the clouds make traveling pleasant and we start. We go north and a little east. Where the roads are good the oxen trot off briskly; but in many places there are deep ruts, caused by the heavy rains of previous years, which make progress slow. In some places the ruts are a foot or two in depth, and it is necessary to make a new road along the side, for there are no government-built roads in the country.

The grass of the previous year's growth was burnt off in June or July; and ever since, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen except the great stretch of undulating reddish-brown earth, destitute of everything, save here and there little patches of dried grass, which had escaped the scorching fires, and scattered trees, almost destitute of leaves. There has been no rain for six or seven months; yet spring is approaching, and already in the rich valleys may be seen tender blades of grass springing up. On the bare brown hills here and there are flowers of various kinds, which gladden the eye and relieve the monotony of the scene. Where the moisture comes from at this season of the year to produce such delicate blossoms is a cause of conjecture. Then too, already many of the trees and shrubs are putting forth their tender, beautiful green leaves, some of which look as delicate and shining as wax; and occasionally one sees a tree or shrub with white, yellow, or red blossoms preparatory to putting forth leaves. All these changes we note with pleasure as we ride along in the cool, bracing air of the early morning.

At one place is to be seen Chikuni stump, which seems almost like a stone, and has been a landmark within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. The majority of trees which are to be seen on this road are hardwood, but very crooked and scrubby looking, no doubt owing to the yearly fierce onslaught of fire and also the nature of the soil. Along the road is one solitary mahogany; a large, spreading tree this is, but not a very good sample of its kind. There is also a large tree known as the sausage tree; its immense bean pods, one to two feet in length and a foot and over in circumference, reminding one of a great piece of sausage. Numerous acacia are to be seen, and as we approach the river, five miles from home, we see six large, fine-looking fig trees, their rich, dark-green foliage furnishing beautiful shade. Although this is the Myeki River, there is no water where we cross, yet the deep, bridgeless ravine makes crossing for heavily-laden wagons difficult at all seasons, and almost impassable during the rainy seasons. Here is a large village, but we proceed two miles further and come to Mianda School, where Charlie Sichamba teaches.

This is not a large village, but it is the home of a number of some of our best boys; those who have been of greatest assistance in teaching and in industrial work. The village has been lately moved, and huts are not yet all completed, nor is the schoolhouse finished. We drive near and are met by a number of the pupils, for we are always certain of a welcome at this place. The rain, which has been threatening, begins to come down, and one of the new huts is given to us. Wood is brought and a fire is kindled in the center, that we may have breakfast. A mat is placed on the nicely-swept floor, and on this the tablecloth is spread and the breakfast placed after it is cooked. This consists of corn porridge, with milk, bread, butter, eggs, fruit, and coffee if we desire it. Muguwe sends us milk, for he always sees that we are furnished with fresh milk when we come here. The boys are given another hut in which to cook their food. The meal being over, we hand the dishes to one of the boys to be washed, while we turn our attention to the school and work for which we came.

By this time the rain is beginning to abate, and the pupils, about twenty in number, assemble in another hut for school. Today there are not quite as many as usual, because there is a wedding in progress. Here is Muguwe, a tall, odd-looking native, over thirty years of age, and a Christian, and so far as we can learn he is consistent in his life. Learning is difficult for him, but he is making progress and is quite persevering. His wife for a long time was opposed to his serving the Lord, but she is changing, and we trust that she too may accept Christ as her Savior. The stepdaughter is also in school and is making progress in Divine life. There are several other women and some girls and boys. Some of them seem very slow in accepting Christ, but there has manifestly been a change in the lives of some, and a number of the old women are believers. During the last year of drought, when the people of nearly every village were so zealous in their heathen worship for rain, this was one of the two who stood true. After school is over, the older ones are summoned to join with us in worship, and we take the occasion once more to give them a Gospel message, to which they listen attentively. Here are Tom's mother, Jim's mother, and Chikaile's mother, all of whom seem to believe as far as they have grasped the Truth.