“And who is sufficient for these things?”
“But our sufficiency is of God.”
THE position in which we were now placed called indeed for a fresh committing of ourselves and our way to God. Here we were, with our life yet whole in us, it is true, but robbed of every earthly possession, without so much as a “cash” to buy food with, and in the midst of enemies whose resentment towards us burned as fiercely as ever. What should we do now? Whither should we turn our steps? If we went forward, there was a band of cut-throats awaiting us. If we went back towards Han-tien, it seemed only to be courting the very destruction we had just escaped at their hands. In real perplexity, we looked up and asked Him very simply to lead us as He led His people of old, according to the word, “He led them on safely, so that they feared not.” Our helplessness was such now that we were consciously shut up to God even for the literal putting of one foot before the other.
After praying thus, it became very clear to us that we should return to Han-tien. We knew that it was their “peaceableness” which had upset Ma’s calculations; and we concluded that, whatever that might mean, we should be safer in their vicinity than out on the open road, where lawlessness could work unabashed. Again, if our boys were alive, they would find us more readily there than elsewhere. And then too, we were hungry and thirsty, having tasted nothing for twenty hours—since noon of the preceding day; and we hoped that we might look for some to take pity, even amongst enemies, and give the dear children at least a morsel of food. So we turned and went back.
Wearily we re-passed the “via crucis” of an hour ago, and entering the gate sat down, some twenty yards from it, on a stone block by the roadside. The long street was almost deserted—strange contrast to the scene of which but now it had been the theater! But for the too palpable fact of our destitution, one could have imagined that it had been only a dream. Here and there one saw little knots of men talking together; and at the doorway immediately opposite was a small group of women curiously eyeing us. We waited a little while to see what the effect of our reappearance would be; but finding that we were left unmolested, and almost daring to hope that our forlorn condition might have touched the chord of pity in the women’s hearts, Miss Gates spoke to them from her seat, entreating their compassion and asking them for no more than a drink of water. At the sound of her voice they looked at one another, and then, in a half-scared way, shook their heads and retreated into the safe seclusion of the doorway.
With no protection from the scorching sun we sat on, fearing to leave, and wondering what the end would be. Anxiously we watched for the coming of our boys; but as the time went by and still they did not appear, our heart sickened with hope deferred. For, at this period of our sorrows, it seemed to us that their presence was indispensable to our safety. Where none would dare to give us food, for instance, a native could procure it for us. And so, in many other ways, they could do for us what we could not do for ourselves.
Meantime, the situation was becoming awkward again. The riffraff, who had been hanging about the outskirts of the town in expectation that we should turn our steps away from it and toward the country, began to collect and gather round us. They seemed almost superstitiously fearful of us, coming nearer by degrees, until, emboldened by one or two who ventured close up, they gradually ringed us round. They were all armed, and were evidently the scum of the place—a low looking, evil set, who would stick at nothing. They stood looking at us in an ominous silence that shivered its dread secret through our hearts. At length the exchange of a few asides amongst those on the inner edge of the ring led us to conclude that it was time to be making a move. And yet what move could we make? Whither should we flee?
Once more the gracious answer of our God met us at the threshold of our need. As we were preparing to go, who should push his way through the ring but Sheng-min. I shall never forget that moment—the comfort and the joy of seeing the dear lad again, and just in the nick of time, when we needed him most. He took in the situation at a glance, and said in a low tone, “It seems as if the Lord means to save you, since He has protected you so far. But come quickly; we must be going.”
The effect upon the bystanders was apparently one of bewilderment. They fell back sullenly as we rose; and not a soul attempted to touch us, or even to follow us as we passed by and out through the gate into the open. Keeping close to the boy, we walked on until we came to a place where it became a choice of roads. The main road bore to the left; while in front, a kind of bridle path led through a gully. As it seemed to afford greater facilities for eluding observation, we elected to take the latter for awhile, with the intention then of striking the high road at a point where in all likelihood they would not be looking for us. Shortly after entering the gully, however, we passed two tramps, the elder of whom eyed us in a way that boded no good, and then turned to follow us. It was a lonely spot; and so strong was the presentiment of ill upon me that I preferred even to take the risk of the public road. So, somewhat prematurely, we climbed the bank and struck across the fields.
The Han-tien scum had by this time so far recovered themselves as to regret that they had let us go so quietly, and as we reappeared over the top of the bank, an armed group caught sight of us and gave the alarm. Accordingly, upon Sheng-min’s advice, we retreated once more to the gully.
The two tramps now pressed us hard, but, not wishing to give the impression of fear, we slackened our steps to a leisurely pace, even to sitting down now and again as if for rest. But when we sat, they sat; when we rose, they rose. There could be no question that they had an object in view. However, the fact that we were covered by the presence of a native evidently acted as a deterrent, and was, I am sure, in the ordering mercy of God, our salvation at this juncture.
It was in this gully that the utter forlornness of our condition came over me as it had not done hitherto. Stripped of all means of support, seven hundred miles (English) from the nearest place of refuge, without a conveyance or the means of providing one; beset on all sides by hostile crowds—literally, we were wandering in the wilderness in a solitary way; we found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, our soul fainted in us. But a few days more and we should be entering the hottest period of the year—the “fu-t’ien” or dog days; and as I looked at the two weak women and the two tiny children before me, the question forced itself upon me, “Can thy heart endure? Who is sufficient for these things?”
I was greatly upheld and comforted by the marvelous calmness and cheerfulness given to the ladies. The necessity, too, of drawing the dear children’s thoughts away from past and present distress, and of keeping them from asking undesirable questions, was doubtless helpful in holding the mind from self-occupation. We would tell them little stories, or together look out for flowers, and climb the banks to gather them. In this way we came at length to a marshy spot where, to our joy, amid the rank grass we discerned the gleam of water; and there, at the stagnant pool, we thanked God, as we drank the first draft for twenty-two hours, and cooled hands and face. Presently the elder tramp called to Sheng-min, who after exchanging the greetings of ordinary civility, and feeling that possibly he might be open to friendly advances, sat down by him and conversed for awhile a little distance from us, on the opposite bank. The gist of their talk was that he (the tramp) had a cave not far off, where he would hide us for a few days if we wished, taking upon himself the supply of all our needs. This was too evidently a plot, and we refused to entertain the idea for a moment.
From that time Sheng-min’s manner towards us changed very markedly. He answered roughly when spoken to, and simply indicated by a gesture the direction we were to take. Meantime, he kept company with the men, following on behind with them. Whether this was merely a blind on his part, seeing how completely we were in their power, or whether he had really turned against us (a thought well-nigh unthinkable after the proofs of devotion he had already given) we could not determine. It occasioned us much distress, and even fear, for he pointed us on in the direction of the tramp’s cave.
When we emerged from the gully a small village was before us, about half a mile distant, called Shaho-k’eo. Our appearance was evidently anticipated for a crowd of men and lads were in waiting, and, as soon as they sighted us, made towards us. Every one of them carried some weapon or other, mostly of an agricultural sort—hoes, prongs, sickles, knives and the like. My heart sank as once more the vision of mob violence rose up before me. What should we do? Whither could we flee? We looked, and behind, as before, an armed band was coming. The Hantien riff-raff were in pursuit, and in a few minutes the two companies had met and were hemming us in on every side.
Once more we gave ourselves up to inevitable death, and quietly sat down by the roadside to await the end. But the tramp evidently had other thoughts—an object of his own in view which he was loth to lose sight of. Calling to us to get up and move on, he directed us to a wayside booth on the outskirts of the village, and, thankful to have the strain of such a situation relieved in any way, we obeyed the injunction, the motley crowd following at our heels.
The sun was now at meridian heat, and glad indeed we were to avail ourselves of the shelter afforded by the rush thatch of the booth. But no; the “Chang-knei-tih” who owned it would have none of us, and ordered us off the place. A grassy slope just outside, shaded lightly by a group of saplings, offered a more friendly resting place, where we had no sooner settled ourselves than we were surrounded as before.
During the three hours or so passed in that spot, we tasted again in full measure the bitterness of death, and the sweetness of the consolations of Christ. There was no question as to the intentions of our enemies. It seemed as though their mind was to play us first, as a cat plays a mouse before killing it; and as they stood around, they mingled coarse mockery with cruel suggestions of the way in which the deed of slaughter should be done, whetting their implements the while on stones before our eyes. The moving spirit of it all was the wicked tramp. “We’ll strip them first, and then break their heads,” we heard him say, and the word was readily taken up and passed round.
We had been seated thus in harrowing suspense for some little time, when a Boxer officer arrived on the scene—a young man of soldierly bearing, with clear-cut, handsome features, but an expression pitiless and cruel as the grave. Relieving himself of his forage bag, he unsheathed his sword, and entered into conversation with those about him. His oft-repeated “Ai-is!” as he looked across at us rings still in my ears, and the look itself—even now my blood curdles as I recall it.
“What are you doing, letting these foreign devils sit here? Why don’t you kill them?”
“We are going to beat and strip them first.”
“Beat and strip them, indeed! No; kill them outright—that’s our first business.”
Then stepping forward immediately in front of us, he closely scrutinized each one, asking us from what country we came, what it was that brought us to China, and what we now intended to do. Our answers provoked a sarcastic curl of the lip, as he sneered some contemptuous word, and turned for further conference with the rest. The result of which was that he sheathed his sword, shouldered his forage bag, and with the remark that he was on his way to the Boxer camp, (20 li off—7 miles), but would shortly be back with his company to finish the work, hurried off.
Thus marvelously was another respite granted us, in the infinite mercy of our God. True, it was only for a little while, but the officer’s unexpected withdrawal brought a faint, faint gleam of light into the prevailing darkness, and strengthened us to lean hard on Him with Whom all things are possible.
So we continued to sit on, while the crowd, which had swelled considerably by this time, continued to hem us in. They were now becoming bolder and more aggressive in their attitude. The wide ring was gradually narrowing towards us, until the foremost were but a few paces from us. We saw that they were evidently bent on taking matters into their own hands, without waiting for the arrival of the Boxers; and once more my beloved wife and I spoke words of farewell. I also gave her directions how to act, as well for little Hope as for herself, in the moment of attack, while I undertook to act for Hedley.
Meantime, Sheng-min’s care for us revived, and elbowing his way through the crowd he brought the dear children a small three-cornered cake each of rice and dates. Dear little souls! they were hungry enough, having fasted for twenty-six hours, and their eyes glistened at the sight of the tempting morsel. As they put it to their mouths, one who had made himself increasingly obnoxious snatched it from their hand and ate it before them.
By this act the barrier of restraint was broken down, and the one cowardly deed was quickly followed by another. The man standing immediately in front of my wife suddenly darted forward, and seizing her left hand attempted to tear the wedding ring from her finger. In a moment the hot blood shot to my temples, and as my beloved one looked at me appealingly and closed her hand to guard the sacred symbol, all the feeling of resentment natural to the flesh rose up in me with strong temptation to strike. But the power of God kept me, as He brought to remembrance the word, “Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath. Recompense to no man evil for evil,” and I just whispered, “Let it go, darling. Don’t grieve over it. The Lord will give you much more than this.” So, meekly opening her hand, she yielded up the treasure. What it cost her thus to part with it, and what it cost me to see her subjected to such insult, no words can express. But the memory of that gentle act of resignation is a more precious possession to me now than ever the lost ring could have been, for it was the substance of that of which the ring was but the shadow—the Christ-like expression of her true wifehood and womanhood.
This overt act of violence was the signal for a general attack. With a wild shout of “Rob!” they rushed upon us. There was not a moment to think how one should act. We were each one seized and hurled out into the road, into the midst of the raging mass. I never thought it possible that any one of us could or would come out alive. For myself, I was torn away from wife and children, and knew nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing but the mad tumult of what I was convinced must be a murderous onslaught. By a painful process not far removed from lynching, my clothes were torn from me, and when I was left alone—alive, to my amazement—it was to find that, save for socks and cholera belt, I was naked.
It was as well that my mind had other thoughts wherewith to occupy itself than with my own condition. Where were my loved ones? and where was Miss Gates? As I turned to look, the fighting crowd parted, and I caught sight of my precious wife standing alone, and anxiously looking for her little ones. She was flushed from the violence with which she had been handled; her gown was gone, and the “san-tal” (or shirt) that was still left to her with her nether garments was torn. But she had sustained no serious injury, and was heroically calm. She greeted me with, “Oh, thank God you are alive!” every other thought was for the moment swallowed up in that for both of us. Then, “Have you seen the sweet lambs? Oh, where are they?”
It was a heartrending sight when, a moment or two later, we did see them. Not dead, thank God, nor, apparently, injured, but in uttermost terror and bewilderment wringing their baby hands and crying piteously for us, as they ran distractedly hither and thither among the hurrying mob. To recover them was the work of but a moment. Poor little darlings! their joy at seeing us seemed to eclipse all the terror, and very soon the tears were forgotten in the comfort of having their hand fast in ours again. Nothing had been left to them save their light gauze combinations and socks.
And Miss Gates? She was lying in the roadway some thirty yards off, stripped of her gown, face downwards and quite motionless. We thought at first she was dead, but Sheng-min was with her, and as I went forward he raised her, and she opened her eyes. Presently, with his support, she was able to move, and together we all retraced our steps to the booth, where we were allowed a seat on a low plank beside the door of the food-shop behind.
I may here relate what actually occurred to my wife, Miss Gates, and the little ones, at the moment of attack, when we were torn one from another. It would seem that our sister was dragged along for some distance, the violence with which her head struck the ground producing unconsciousness. Hedley was roughly stripped at once, but little Hope, being a girl, was cruelly mauled as they tore at her clothing. She told me that “a man came towards her with a sword, and she prayed in her heart to God not to let him hurt her, and then he turned away from her.” As for my dear wife, she was knocked down at the first rush and dragged hither and thither, by head or feet, in the process of stripping.
It seemed now as if we had been brought to the lowest point of distress and humiliation—to a condition of things, in fact, in which it would be easy to choose death rather than life. I cannot utter the thoughts that overwhelmed my spirit as we sat there in our utter destitution. I can only say that the realization of all that our circumstances involved for the weak women and children under my care, together with the bitter shame of my condition, completely overcame me, and for the first and only time in all those sad weeks, I gave way to my grief. When my beloved wife saw the silent tears, she gently said, “Darling husband, why do you cry? Remember, this is the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings. He is counting us worthy to suffer shame for His Name.” Thus, through the tender ministry of her love, He poured His balm into my heart.
Some degree of pity at the sight of our misery seemed to have been excited in the heart of a few, and a bowl of “mi-t’ang” (thin millet gruel) was passed to us to drink. For this we heartily thanked God, praying that He would bless the giver, and taking it as a fresh token of His near presence and watchful care for us. Not long afterward, a short coat of filthy rags, such as professional beggars wear—the like of which could only be seen in China—was handed me over the heads of the bystanders from within the food-shop behind, by one who was none other than the tramp, arrayed now in a garb of respectability which I recognized as none other than my own. So now our friend had realized his object: he had my garment, and I could have his. He and I had changed places. It would have required much grace, under ordinary circumstances, even to have handled such a disgusting thing; but as it was, I could only thank the grace of God which provided me a covering at all; and, bowing my acknowledgments to the man, I readily adopted it.
Yet a little later, one of my stolen shoes was returned, which proved of the greatest service to me afterward; the dear children’s shoes also were recovered. But the kindness of God was crowned by the arrival of our boy, P’ao-rï, on the scene, with a pair of pants which had formed the major part of his own kit for the intended journey to Chau-kia-k’eo. They were well patched, and came to about halfway up my leg; but what of that? They met my sore need; and more than that, they were the embodiment of the love of Christ, offered me in His Name and for His sake; and as I thanked the dear lad in the Name of the Lord Jesus, I thought with joy of the King’s recognition awaiting him: “I was naked, and ye clothed Me. Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye did it unto Me. Come, ye blessed of My Father.”