“I flee unto Thee to hide me.”
“The beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by Him.”
THE long and toilsome path brought us at length to an elevated ridge, which fell away on one side in a steep declivity to a dry torrent bed. A little farther on was a small temple standing by itself; and beyond this a certain village. By the time we reached the ridge, the crowd had not only swollen considerably in numbers, but had begun to make themselves extremely objectionable. They were not merely the riffraff class, either. Well-to-do men of superior position were amongst them: indeed, we were painfully conscious that the rough jostling and coarse jesting to which we were now exposed was experienced rather at the hands of the more respectable element than of the less.
The shades of the short twilight were fast merging into darkness, and it was evident that a move with a definite object was being made. We were being swept on towards the temple; and as we neared it, for the second time that dreadful day the ominous boom of the processional gong broke on our ear. At a word from Sheng-min we stopped and faced round.
“Don’t go on,” he whispered; “they mean to stone you to death there. Turn quickly.”
As we did so, the mob hustled us severely, and with hoots and yells urged us to keep the direction they indicated.
It was at this most critical juncture that we experienced a really marvelous instance of God’s direct interference. Sheng-min had read the peril of the moment. Knowing that we could go neither backwards nor forwards, he again whispered: “Down the steep-quick! Follow the track!” Instantly we obeyed the direction. A thin “goat” trail was just visible among the rocks and shrubs of the declivity; and in single file we threaded our way—down, down, until at a bend in the track we were hidden from sight. Quickening our pace, we hurried on with a strength divinely renewed. In that hour we proved what it was, in the extremity of physical weakness, to “run and not be weary, to walk and not faint.”
The moment we disappeared over the side, the mob simultaneously stopped dead at the spot, as if arrested by a sudden and irresistible power. The loud yells and cries of a moment ago were stilled to silence—absolute, awful silence. So startling was it that I dared to turn and take one look. I could scarcely believe my eyes. The mob lined the ridge in hundreds, motionless as if spellbound, helplessly watching us—poor, miserable us, whom they triumphantly believed they had so completely in their power—slip away from under their very hand. Not a single soul of them attempted to follow. Sheng-min alone was behind, bringing up the rear; and before us, in the bright moonlight, there was nothing but the white zigzag of the trail and the gleaming breadth of the torrent bed.
Will anyone venture to explain the above phenomenon on the hypothesis of mere natural causes, in the common acceptation of that term? Only he, I imagine, who would under any set of circumstances seek to shut out the supernatural from the plane of the natural, and deny to the Lord God omnipotent the sovereignty of His own right, will and power to rule in the kingdom of men, or to show Himself strong in the behalf of those whose heart is perfect towards Him, in the way He chooses and at the time He chooses. The most “natural” of all causes are the supernatural, if we would but be honest with our own hearts; and in the phenomenon I have recorded, I rejoiced to see again the simple operation of the natural law of cause and effect in accordance with the simple statement of the law by Him Who framed it, “Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee; and thou shalt glorify Me.”
On we sped with wondering hearts, in the consciousness that God had, for the third time at least that day, wrought for us a great deliverance. Without halt or pause we crossed to the far side of the wide riverbed, keeping cover as far as we possibly could, and hugging the deep shadows cast by the bright radiance of a full orbed moon. On, on we pressed, not heeding the stumblings and trippings of our weary feet over the boulder-strewn and stony path. Uang-fang was the near goal before us, and every step was bringing it nearer.
It seemed strange, after the all day noise and excitement of large crowds hemming us in, to be alone, with an unbroken stillness reigning all around. Could it be true that we really were alone at last? I looked this way and that; and there, as I cast my eye across the riverbed, I saw emerging from the dark shadows four stealthy figures, parallel to us and keeping pace with us. Ere long they came out into the full light of the moon and crossing directly over to our side were soon up with us. As they passed, they casually accosted us, asking (as is usual in China on the road) where we had come from and where we were going to. They were walking in single file, and we observed that they were armed with pole-axes carried over the shoulder at the slope.
In the early part of the evening Sheng-min had been called aside by a man in the crowd and warned that “the Boxers were going to kill us down at the bed of the river.” A certain smartness and bearing about these men seemed to indicate that they knew something about drill, and to justify our fears that the warning was a well-founded one.
There was nothing for it now but to keep on in the direction we were taking, with our eyes upon our God. If it was as we feared, escape was impossible; for they were narrowly watching us, though at some distance, and cautiously adjusting their pace to ours. At last we sat down, partly to ease our excessive weariness, but more in the hope that they would be disconcerted thereby; and they too sat down.
It was clear, therefore, that these men intended to shadow us—that, in fact, we should have to reckon with them in some way or other.
The men were, as I said, some little distance from us, and we took this the first opportunity afforded us of opening the milk tin, and giving the dear little ones a tiny quantity of the precious food, the only sustenance they had had since noon of the preceding day. By common consent we agreed to keep it entirely for the children’s use; for we were again absolutely money-less (the gift of the 25 cash committed to Sheng-min’s care having shared the fate of his other property), and this was the only means under our hand for their support. Then once more we lifted our hearts in fervent prayer to God our strength and our Redeemer, that He would be pleased to stand up for our defense against the four Boxers who were seeking our life. And thus strengthened with strength in our souls, we rose and went on. The Boxers also rose and went on.
At a point where the torrent bed was intersected by crossroads, there was a knoll, and on it we saw, under the moonlight gleam, the four white-coated figures seat themselves. There could be no mistaking their intention. They were awaiting us there, to “kill us at the bed of the river.”
As we drew near they rose and again accosted us. What they said I don’t know; but whatever it may have been, Sheng-min’s reply was to the effect that “it was no business of theirs.” Thereupon they confronted us with an insolent demand for money. Seeing now that there was no hope of our being able to pass them, we quietly sat down on the grassy slope.
They utterly refused to believe the statement that we had no silver. Our destitute condition was no argument with them. Resuming their seat on the knoll, they mounted guard over us, while in every possible way they tried to drag out of Sheng-min the truth about our money. They doubtless imagined that we had buried the bulk of it, and before dispatching us they were determined to have from us the secret of its whereabouts.
Here, then, was a situation as desperate as any we had hitherto experienced. The measure of that bitter day’s bitterness was not yet full. But He Who had given the cup would also give the grace to drink it, and would so glorify Himself that our sorrow would be afterward turned into joy.
For upwards of an hour we sat thus over against each other. On their part, the time was spent in noisy altercation with Sheng-min; on ours, in silent prayer. Every now and then one or other of the men would spring to his feet with a curse, and stand over us with his pole-ax, threatening to strike. Finding, however, that they could get no further with us either by question or by threat of violence, they sat down to discuss what the next move should be. While thus engaged, Miss Gates, who could overhear their talk, said: “Unless God works a miracle for us, we shall not leave this spot alive. The thing seems an impossibility; but it is laid on my heart to ask Him to take these men right away—one and all. It is our only hope; and is anything too hard for the Lord?”
So we made our prayer in the Name of the Lord Jesus, according to the terms of this petition.
Then from the opposite side of the riverbed we saw the figures of more men coming—one or two at first, then more at intervals, until some dozen or fifteen had gathered at the knoll. They were apparently just foot passengers on their homeward way; but the unusual sight at the knoll arrested them, and they turned to see what it might be. Their sympathies were quickly enlisted on the side of the Boxer ruffians, and we found that we had to deal now, not with four, but with four times four.
Emboldened by this accession to their numbers, the Boxer four became more impudently aggressive.
We were told that if their demands were not complied with, we should be stripped of the last shred of clothing. Seizing their poleaxes, they then planted themselves in front of us, and with horrid oaths and menacing gestures attempted to strike terror into us. It seemed amazing that they did not rather strike the ax-heads themselves into us, as they continually threatened to do. But I could not fail to observe a singular hesitation in them every time they made an advance toward us.
At last two of them—big, stalwart young fellows—flung their weapons down in their fury, and setting themselves immediately before my wife and Miss Gates threatened to strip them if we did not give the information they wanted. Their answer to our silence was once again to seize their poleaxes and advance towards the weak, defenseless women. If ever I felt ashamed—bitterly, contemptuously ashamed—of my sex, it was then. They advanced a few steps and retreated, then advanced again. The strange hesitancy was upon them still; to be dispelled at last (as I suppose) by a moonbeam glinting from the surface of the milk tin in my wife’s possession. The brave opposite her made a dash forward and snatched it from the hand that so jealously guarded it. This was enough: the next step was easy. The two rushed simultaneously upon the women, and seizing them at the throat tore each their upper garment from them. Miss Gates still retained a light gauze vest, but my beloved wife was left naked to the waist.
Their meek submissive spirit of unmurmuring patience was beautiful to witness. But who can measure the burning indignation of my heart’s crying sorrow at the sight of them, under the cold-gleaming moon, stripped to the chilling night air? Three times in one day assaulted by murderous hate with cruel violence; and now at the end of it left out in the mountains in cold and nakedness—two delicately nurtured women, and one of them the partner of my own being! I thank Him Who enabled me to pray, with them, out of a true though breaking heart, “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge!”
As the men faced us again with the garments in their hand, I looked at them and said: “Ni-men tsiu shï ern, ie muh iu ren ch’ing” — “You are human beings, it is true; but you have not the feelings of your kind” —about as stinging a reproach as one could well address to a Chinaman’s ears; containing, too, a righteous, pertinent and legitimate rebuke. I am bound to say that I was not prepared for the effect it produced. To my amazement the word went home like an arrow to the mark. Sullenly they took the garments, first one and then the other, and flung them back to their respective owners. I have that very garment of my wife’s in my keeping at this moment—a token that speaks louder to me, every time I look at it, of the living power of the living God, than any treatise could. Platform “Evidences of Christianity” undoubtedly have a use and value of their own; but they are dreary things to me beside that soiled and tattered “evidence” of a God that “worketh for those who wait for Him.” It also speaks to my heart as nothing else does of a Christ that “liveth in” His own, in the manifested beauty of His own life—a life that could only be divine.
What the effect of this incident was upon the bystanders I cannot say. I only know that one by one they melted away, and ere long the four Boxers alone were left with us. Resuming their seat on the knoll, they again talked together, while we continued to cry to God for their removal.
Once more they confronted us—this time with the order to get up and follow them back to Lu-an city. We replied that it was impossible—we were too tired to attempt it. If they wished us to go, they must fetch a cart for us.
“A cart for foreign devils!” they cried; “we’ll fetch ropes, and we’ll fetch men; and if you can’t walk, you shall be dragged.”
And with a mocking laugh and the information that they would be back directly, they shouldered their weapons and walked swiftly away—the whole batch of them; and in a few seconds we were alone!
Our God had done for us the impossible thing that we asked, and the mountain that was ready to fall on us had been removed in answer to the prayer that gave glory to God. The faith that offered it had been severely tested when the natural impossibility had been only increased instead of diminished by the sight of added numbers, who also were against us. But “if God be for us, who can be against us?” “Therefore we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.”
With real awe in our hearts at what God had wrought, we watched the men disappear. It seemed strange that they should not have left a guard; for two (or even one) would have sufficed for the errand on which they were bent. But no the thing was of God, according to the terms of our petition that He would “be pleased to take them right away, one and all”; and to Him we ascribed the honor due unto His Name.
The moment the last was out of sight, Sheng-min said, “They are gone, thanks be to the Lord’s grace! Now come quick: we have not a moment to lose.” In an instant he had caught Hedley in his arms, and I Hope; and the next, we were in full Bight. The moon was riding high in the heavens, and I judged it must have been about eleven o’clock when we took the riverbed once more and pursued our trembling way towards Uang-fang. The excitement of the situation was intense; for discovery now meant absolutely certain death. We had no conception, of course, as to how far the four Boxers had to go for reinforcements; but the fact that they all ventured to leave us, and that they spoke of a speedy return, seemed to indicate that it was near enough, in their idea at any rate, to preclude any suspicion of the possibility of our escape; and therefore near enough to make the thought of our being retaken uncomfortably possible. Two things were against us—the superb brilliancy of the moon, and the whiteness of the ladies’ san-tst. Added to this was the almost total absence of adequate cover. To this hour I can never look up at the full moon in the glory of its radiance without a shudder going through me. Instinctively and invariably it recalls that night of nights and only that night; and I live again the fear and trembling of our race for life. If only its traitorous brightness could be obscured for one brief hour, and the darkness cover us! But we were to learn what it meant to lean upon the promise, “He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust.”
The grave difficulty of the white san-tsï was partially met by Sheng-min’s careful thought. He threw his own dark blue coat over Miss Gates’ shoulder, and his black “ling-kua-tsï” (a kind of short sleeveless overall) over my wife’s, the white sleeves of her “shirt” alone being exposed. For myself, my beggar’s rag was an excellent foil, and I wrapped it round the lighter garment of the little darling in my arms.
Thus we pressed on, our weariness forgotten as much in the joy and wonder of our newfound liberty as in the fear of recapture. Dead silence, utter stillness, reigned on every hand. The lateness of the hour and the loneliness of the path favored us. Anxiously I kept looking back to see when the knoll would disappear, as being the point where our pursuers would be sighted, if at all; and oh, the intense relief when the curve of the river bed swept it at last from view, and there was no sign of their return!
The prospect of realizing our hopes was now well upon the horizon; and with strength renewed and lightened hearts we sped on. Higher up the river, the character of the country became more favorable to concealment. We were in the neighborhood of the Uang-fang hills, and their wooded undulations and coppices of thick undergrowth would afford us a temporary refuge in our present extremity. The discovery of our flight could not long be delayed, and once made, would give rise to a pursuit the swiftness of which we could never hope to compete against. It was therefore high time we found a hiding place. So, leaving the torrent bed, we struck across the fields and made for the nearest cover.
As we did so the boy spied a graveyard, with its firs and monumental stones. In the strong contrasts thrown by the moon’s light, the cemetery’s somber shades looked blackest darkness. Hither we turned our steps; and in the deepest shadows we could find, beneath the firs and behind the stones, we laid our weary bodies down at midnight, and in the peace of God, under the shadow of His wings, we slept.