Comforted a little—more by the missionary’s look and tone than by his words,—Mamba took his departure.
Meanwhile Mr Ellis made inquiries, visited the friend to whom he had been referred, and found that not only was Mamba a good and true man, but that many of his family “feared the Lord greatly.”
When, therefore, his anxious visitor returned very early the following morning, he was ready for him.
“I am assured that you are a Christian, Mamba,” he said, “as well as many of your kindred.”
“Yes, I love the Lord, and so do many of my kinsmen. But my family is large and scattered.”
“Have any of them got the Scriptures?”
“They have seen and heard them,” returned Mamba, “but all that we possess are a few pages of the words of David. These belong to the whole family. We send them from one to another, and each, after keeping them for a time, passes them on, until they have been read by all. They are in my hands just now.”
“Have you them with you?” asked the missionary. Mamba did not reply at once. He seemed unwilling to answer, but at last confessed that he had.
“Will you not show them to me? Surely you can trust me, brother!”
Mamba at length made up his mind. Thrusting his hand deep into his bosom, he drew a parcel from the folds of his lamba. This he slowly and carefully opened. One piece of cloth after another being unrolled, there appeared at length a few leaves of the Book of Psalms, which he cautiously handed to Mr Ellis.