The waggon and goods were transported across the river, and accompanied by Kanenge, with nearly a hundred men, the trader’s party commenced their journey in the proposed direction. Mr Vincent being too weak to walk, was carried in a sort of palanquin, while the rest of the party marched on foot.
After travelling for upwards of a week, the country greatly improving in appearance, they reached a steep hill, up which the waggon was slowly dragged, till at length they found themselves on a wide extent of elevated ground, high above the plain, which stretched away to the southward. Here the air felt pure and comparatively bracing, and Martin at first hoped that his father would recover his strength.
Still, after some days had passed, observing how weak and ill he remained, he could not help fearing that his days were numbered. Should his father die, he would indeed have been in a forlorn condition had he not learned to trust to One who rules all things for the best. He was, therefore, far more anxious about his father than about himself. Each evening, when they encamped, he sat by his side, and having read a portion of Scripture, he endeavoured to turn his father’s thoughts to a future state of existence.
“What, do you think I am likely to die?” asked Mr Vincent one day. “Why do you talk so much about heaven?”
“We have seen many of our companions die, my dear father, and we know how uncertain life is in this country, as it is indeed in all parts of the world, and at all events we should live prepared to quit this life at any moment. Christ has said that we must enter the kingdom of heaven here, we must become His subjects while we are on earth, we must be reconciled to God now, we must be born again; and therefore it is that I am so anxious you should accept His gracious offers, though at the same time I pray that you may be restored to health and strength.”
At first Mr Vincent turned a deaf ear to what his son said, but by degrees his hard heart softened, he saw how earnest and affectionate that son was, and he could not help being aware of his own increasing weakness.
Although he at first thought himself getting better, the disease had taken too strong a hold of him to be thrown off. Martin at length had the infinite satisfaction of finding that his father now listened with deep attention to God’s Word when he read it.
“My dear boy,” he said one day, “I now know myself to be a rebel to God, and grievously to have sinned against His pure and holy laws; and I earnestly desire to accept the gracious offer of mercy which He holds out through the atoning blood of Christ, according to His plan of salvation, which you have so clearly explained to me. I do not know whether I shall live or die, but I pray for grace that I may ever continue faithful to Him who has redeemed me with His precious blood.”
Martin burst into tears on hearing his father thus express himself—they were tears of joy—and he felt the great load which had hitherto oppressed him removed from his heart.
The natives came in to trade, but Mr Vincent was utterly unable to do anything. Had it not been for Martin, who was assisted by Kibo and Masiko, no trade could have been carried on.