This rebellion lasted eight months, and the natives were finally driven into the Matopo Hills. In these, nature's vast strongholds and caves, all efforts of the European soldiers to dislodge them proved unavailing. Here finally came Mr. Rhodes, unarmed, into the midst of the enemy's camp and made peace with them. The tree under which this famous council was held is still pointed out not many miles from where Matopo Mission now is. We entered the country a little over a year after the close of the rebellion, while all the causes and events were still fresh in the minds of the natives. What is still more significant, we were located in the very heart of these hills where no missionary had yet penetrated, and being surrounded by many of the rebels themselves, we were able to glean much of the above history at first hand. When we went among them they were still seething with discontent from the same cause which led to the Rebellion.
Mr. Rhodes, who had made peace with these natives, was always respected and trusted by them, and while he was no religious man himself, he thoroughly believed in missionary work among the people. His desire that we come to these hills and his statement, that "missionaries are better than policemen, and cheaper," was actuated by no mercenary motive. It was his conviction, borne out by experience and by long years of contact with the Africans, that missionary work and the Christianization of the natives was the only solution of the native problems.
But to return to our story, we arrived at Bulawayo late in the evening and were taken to the Royal Hotel. This was a good, up-to-date hotel, with an up-to-date African price. In the morning, as we looked out of the window, the first sight which greeted our eyes was a large African wagon drawn by eighteen oxen. Except for this and similar sights we could easily have imagined that we were in an American town, for this place, with broad streets and thriving business, is said to have been patterned somewhat after American cities. My impressions of the town and vicinity written at the time were as follows:
Bulawayo is a modern wonder, an oasis of civilization in the midst of a desert of barbarism and heathendom. It has nearly 3,000 inhabitants, and has been built since 1894. Before that time Lobengula, the great Matabele King, held sway about two miles from here at the place where the Government House now stands. This place reminds one of the booming Kansas towns of a few years ago, but it is hundreds of miles from any other civilized place, and is well built of brick and iron, has good stores of all kinds, five churches, public library, electric lights and telephone, not only in town, but also extending to various police forts in the surrounding country, but no public schools. There are comfortable riding cabs, or traps, drawn by horses or mules, but the traffic is carried on by heavy carts or still heavier wagons drawn by a large number of oxen or donkeys. The manual labor is done chiefly by the native boys, the white people considering it beneath their dignity to do anything a native can do.
The surrounding country is very pretty and level, and one can see an abundance of the "golden sands" mentioned by the poet, and even gold sands are not wanting, but I am sorry to say that the "sunny fountains" rolling down them are very few, especially at this season of the year when there are seven months of drought!
This for Bulawayo in 1898 and first impressions.
We remained at the hotel only two days. Our tent and the other goods had not yet arrived, but a gentleman, to whom we had a letter of introduction through Mrs. Lewis, most kindly offered the use of his house and furniture for two weeks, which offer was gratefully accepted. Before the end of that time our tent had arrived, and this being placed on a vacant lot furnished ample protection for that season of the year.
Bulawayo, being of such recent growth and being surrounded by pagan tribes, would have afforded abundant opportunity for missionary work. Daily these raw natives would come to our tent door to sell wood or other articles; and we longed to tell them something of a Savior's love, had we been able to speak to them. One morning thirteen native women, each with a great load of wood on her head, arranged themselves, smiling and expectant, before the door of our tent. We could only smile in return, that one touch of nature's language which is akin the world over. We were thankful that we could do so much, but back of the smile was a heavy heart that we could do so little.
During the two months we remained at Bulawayo efforts were made to secure a suitable location among the Matopo Hills. Mr. Rhodes' letter had been delivered to the government officials, and they generously undertook to assist in locating the work. The first place to which they took Brother Engle—the one recommended by Mr. Rhodes—was found to have been surveyed by a private individual. They then made another selection, about thirty miles southeast of Bulawayo, the place now known as Matopo Mission, and they agreed to give us here a Mission Reservation of 3,000 acres. The officials, as well as other Europeans in Bulawayo, rendered us much assistance. In addition to these the Seventh Day Adventist missionaries also greatly helped us on the way. These had a mission station about thirty miles west of Bulawayo, and about fifty miles from the place selected for us; and while we were waiting in Bulawayo, they kindly took out, at different times, Brother and Sister Engle and Sister Heise, for a visit to their station.
The time came for us to move out to our location among the hills, and the question of how we should get ourselves and our goods to the place was becoming a serious one. Transportation, like everything else in the interior of Africa, was exceedingly expensive. In this emergency Mr. Anderson, of the Seventh Day Adventist Mission, offered to come that long way with his donkey wagon and move us for half the sum required by a regular transport driver.
It is difficult for the reader to form any conception of what these various expressions of kindness along the way, coming so unexpectedly from entire strangers, meant to that little band of missionaries out in the heart of Africa. Even as I write these things, after a lapse of sixteen years, and live over the events of that time, tears of joy unbidden come and my heart wells up in gratitude as I again recall these evidences of the wonderful "faithfulness of a faithful God."