CHAPTER II.
Philippi Circuit contained at this time the following appointments: Romines Mills, Gnatty Creek, Peck’s Run, Indian Fork, Mt. Hebron, Green Brier, and Zeb’s Creek. Later I added two more—one on Big Run, and the other on Brushy Fort, at the home of “Mother” Simons. Two of the preaching places lay “beyond” the Middle Fork River—a rolling, dashing stream, fresh from the mountains, and at times dangerous to cross. It was so clear that a silver piece the size of a quarter could be seen at a depth of several feet. The first time I attempted to ford it I put my life in jeopardy. Because the bottom could be seen distinctly, I imagined it was not deep, but after a few paces I was in mid-side to my horse, and going deeper every step. Perceiving the danger I was in, I tried to turn my horse about, and did so only after the greatest effort, owing to the almost irresistible current which was gradually bearing horse and rider downward. Going to a house near by I made some inquiry about the stream, and was told that if I had gone ten feet farther I should have been swept away by the swift running waters. How grateful I was to God for the deliverance. During the following winter my life was endangered by floating ice at the same crossing-place. Brother Moore about the same time, perhaps a little later, seeing he could not ford the stream, decided to lead his horse across the ice at a point below the regular crossing, where there was but little current; but when twenty feet from the shore toward which he was headed, the ice gave way, and the faithful animal went under. Having hold of the bridle rein, however, he managed to keep his head above the water until a passage way was broken through to dry land.
One instinctively shudders as he recalls the dangers which at times thrust themselves suddenly across the pathway of the early preachers of the Virginia and Parkersburg conferences when the fields were so large and travel so excessive. Brother Moore informed me, as we looked over the charge, that I would have to take the “outsiders” for my support, as the circuit only paid $300, and he could not get along on less and pay rent. It struck me that he was about right, so I readily agreed to his proposition. Then what? Well, at each preaching place I found a “sinner” who agreed to serve as my steward, and these men did well, everything considered. For the year I received $97, including an overcoat and several pairs of yarn socks.
At one of the appointments an unfortunate episode occurred over my salary. The steward one day stepped over the line, and got after some of the church-members for money. He very well knew they were abundantly able to help, but they flatly refused. This so upset him, so I was told, that he expressed his opinion of them in language far more vigorous than polite. It is a joy, however, to note in this connection that some of these stewards soon became Christians, and active helpers in the Church.
Out of the pittance I received, possibly all, or more than I was worth, I added to my little library, which could easily be put in one end of my saddle-bags when I left home, the following books: “Bible Not of Man,” “Conversation of Jesus,” “Jesus on the Holy Mount,” “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Dying Thoughts,” “Bible Text Book,” “Jacobus on John,” “God’s Word Written,” “Paley’s Theology,” “Our Lord’s Parables,” “Webster’s Dictionary,” “Bible True,” “Rock of Our Salvation,” “Companion to the Bible,” “Dictionary of the Bible,” “Credo,” “Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul,” and “Hand of God in History.” This, of course, was not a lavish purchase of books, but it did pretty well for one with a cash income of not more than $75.
We had some good revivals that year. Ninety-nine were received into church fellowship, while many more were converted. At Indian Fork we held meeting in a little log cabin, about twenty feet square, with a great fire-place in one side. It is surprising to see how many people can be crowded into so small a place when they are anxious to attend a revival. Night after night for weeks this little room was packed like a sardine case. But the outcome was glorious. Some of the best citizens of the community were reached and won to Christ.
After a few services were held, and it was seen how insufficient the little room was to accommodate the many who wanted to come, we put on foot the project of building a church, and immediately set about the work. The plan was so unique that the whole neighborhood became interested. Some felled trees; others “scored and hewed” the logs; those who had teams volunteered to haul them, while others still made shingles, or helped with the foundation; “for the people had a mind to work.” Before the meetings closed the house was up and ready for use—an edifice which served as a place of worship for many years.
The people all over the circuit were kind and forbearing, and greatly encouraged me by waiting on my ministry, and hearing what little I had to say. I visited all classes of persons, rich and poor, and had all kinds of experiences. In some homes I enjoyed the hospitality offered; in others it was not so highly enjoyed, but keenly appreciated. At one of the preaching points a certain brother insisted upon my going home with him for dinner after the morning service, which I consented to do. It was a rainy day. He lived in a cabin of one room on the hillside. On either side of the dwelling was a shed. Under one of these he kept his corn; under the other, where we entered the house, the hogs slept and the chickens roosted. His only piece of regular furniture was a chair. As to where and when he got it I did not inquire. Long poles reaching across the room and fastened to the walls, with a forked stick under them in the center, constituted a kind of double bedstead. When I entered the door I observed a large “feather tick” piled upon these poles. Finally, something moved under it, and then a boy of ten or twelve summers, almost suffocated, crawled out and made for the door. His purpose, no doubt, was to hide from the preacher when he saw him coming, but finding he could not get his breath, decided to retreat to another place of concealment where there was more fresh air. I did not eat much dinner. I told “mine host” that I was not hungry, and, in fact, was not. They had only a broken skillet in which to bake bread, fry meat, and “make gravy.” As soon as possible I excused myself, and started for my next appointment. Indeed, I was glad I had another one that day.