With the solid foundation of belief in God and sacrificial offerings yearly made to him, it might be considered that the Gospel would have a ready entrance into the hearts of the people, but we did not find this to be so. Outside the immediate sphere of our labors, there was still very great resistance to the Message, while within the district in which our station was located, although there was a small and, at times, a respectful hearing given to the Word of life, yet there seemed very little response in the stubborn hearts of these native inhabitants.
In conjunction with his itinerating work, my husband took to teaching the younger boys of the tribe and, having on hand a large quantity of ink and Indian calico, he began printing letters and syllables, representing the various sounds of the Kikamba language. With these sheets hanging up in the place of meeting or on the verandah of the dwelling-house, he began to teach as many young people as he could persuade to attend, to read the signs of their own language. He found them very sharp and intelligent, and able to master fully these calico sheets in a short time. He then printed short sentences and texts of Scripture, which the boys were able to read fluently in a few months.
From many points of view this manner of work was undesirable, for it turned out that the continued attendance of the boys could only be secured by payment in beads and wire. My husband's views concerning the manner in which Missionary work ought to be conducted, prevented him adopting or countenancing such a principle of bribery. He would not even give a prize to the most successful boys, for fear that his motives should be misconstrued by the people nearby.
However, he hired all available boys, at a regular salary, for work on the station. These he engaged in clearing some ground for a garden, cultivating it, and keeping in good order the grounds of the station and the paths leading to it. Two hours' break were taken from the working hours each day, and given to teaching, and instilling into their minds the primary truths of the Gospel.
These wild youths came to us, not for the love of the work—that was woman's lot'—nor yet because they wished to make out the mysteries of the formation of their own language, for in that they could see no benefit, while it was certain that they had no interest in hearing any message which would clash with the ideals of life into which they had been born. It was the bright colored beads of varied hues, and the glistening wire of copper or brass which attracted them to us.
Rarely did any of them remain with us more than a week, but, though short their stay, we were as a result able under the providence of God to get into such close personal contact with them, that a sincere and strong affection was formed between them and my husband, which bore much fruit in after years. In this manner many hundreds of boys were under our control for a short period, and numbers of them returned repeatedly to seek work and renew their friendship with us, and these became expert in manual labor, and were able to read the signs which expressed the sounds of their own language; but only of a few could it be said that there was certain evidence of their being truly saved in the days of their youth.
In the payment of these lads large quantities of barter goods were used, and although the work was expensive, yet it was necessary, for after the rains the growth was so great, that, without cultivation, the garden and the tracks leading from the native beaten paths to our station would have been quite overgrown with bush vegetation. Often we had as many as fifty to sixty of these young natives engaged for work at a time; but unless there was someone to supervise their labor, they spent most of the day rolling their naked bodies in the dust. It was precious little work they did, nevertheless the joy and privilege of having them with us day by day was very great, though we realized that this pleasure could not last very long; for one fact then stared us in the face, that the supplies of expensive barter goods were again rapidly decreasing, and there seemed little hope of getting a fresh supply from the Coast.
The busy though monotonous daily routine of our life was broken by the unexpected advent of Count and Countess Schiebler, who had come from Italy and braved the dangers of the march into the inhospitable wilds on a lion-hunting expedition. Because our district was in the heart of the lion and game country, they made their way to our station. The Countess was, therefore, the second European lady who entered the native regions of the interior. At our humble board in the jungle we had the pleasure of entertaining them, and directing their movements to the haunts of lions and big game, with which my husband was quite familiar, as he often met them in numbers on his itinerations, and knew their habitats. Just before the Schieblers arrived he had seen a beautiful black-maned lion, whose skin measured eleven feet six from nose to tail.
The Count was successful in his exploits in which he was helped very considerably by the Countess, who was an accurate shot, and could handle a large-bore rhinoceros rifle—a small cannon in its way—as readily as a 577 express or a light Mannlicher. At times their lives were much in danger, but eventually they were enabled to make their way to the Coast in safety. There was no way of knowing in those days of the regrettable future when the “hunt” and introduction of the gun into central Africa would one day decimate the population of certain species of animals. The missionary as a rule, did not kill for sport.
A short time afterward we had the joy of welcoming to our district Bishop Tucker, with his caravan of five hundred men. He was escorting the first party of lady Missionaries to the Uganda Mission. The old route of Henry M. Stanley from Zanzibar to Lake Victoria Nyanza, which for years had been followed by Missionary caravans, lay along the Usagara, Ugogo and Unyamwezi countries to the Lake; and sometimes six months were occupied in traveling that southerly, roundabout, but comparatively safe route, where the natives never displayed much hostility. The Bishop was now trying this newly-opened and much shorter course along the equatorial line, where his brave and noble predecessor Hannington, seeking to open the way, died at the hands of the natives.
The caravan pathway of the Bishop's party was somewhat distant from our station, but he and his worthy lieutenant Dr. Baxter, who was well experienced in African travel, made their way to our station and remained with us for a day. We were very glad to see the Bishop, and rejoiced to meet with our old friend and companion in missionary work, Doctor Baxter, with whom we had labored in Usagara and Ugogo.
Bishop Tucker and his party eventually proceeded on their way to the Athi river, where my husband had promised to meet them with a few fruit-bearing plants, for the garden which the ladies were to establish in Uganda. When my husband reached the Athi river, he found that they had very little food for the five hundred porters of their caravan; and Dr. Baxter suggested that he and my husband should go out and hunt for some meat. They eventually shot four large brindled gnus, and these, with one rhinoceros, formed a temporary supply for the large following.
When my husband returned to the Mission Station, he told me an interesting story of what had happened the evening of the day on which this meat was secured for the Bishop's porters. He and the doctor left the camp about four o'clock in the afternoon, instructing the headmen to send after them, in a given direction, thirty or forty carriers for the meat, after the camp was put in order for the night. Antelopes seemed more rare than usual that day, and the two hunters walked hither and thither for a very long distance over the plains without sighting anything for the pot.
After a length of time, a single cock ostrich came in view, with its beautiful black and white plumes waving in the zephyr breeze of the evening, as it moved slowly along while feeding. The bird would not suffice for the supper of more than a couple of dozen porters, and what would that be among half a thousand hungry men. Nevertheless, lured by the stately ostrich, the only living object within view, they followed it for a lengthened period on its winding track, scarce realizing their distance from the Athi camp. At last, having got within shooting range of the bird, the doctor fired, but only to raise the dust between its feet, when, quicker than the fastest equine sprinter, it scoured the face of the plateau and disappeared from sight.
The sun was just then sinking in the western sky, and for the safety of the hunters it was necessary to make a fast return to camp, before the darkness of a moonless night set in. No sooner, however, had they resolved to retrace their steps than several long-bearded gnus appeared on the horizon scampering towards them. Being experienced men of the wilds, they immediately dropped flat on their face, to give the gnus an opportunity of approaching as near as possible, before the smell of the oncoming wildebeests would discover their presence.
Unfortunately the wind was in the antelopes' favor, and, catching the smell of the hunters, they came abruptly to a halt at about three hundred yards. The sun had gone down and it was fairly dark. The two riflemen saw that quick action was essential if meat was to be obtained for the camp, and, having agreed among themselves to fire immediately and simultaneously at different sides of the quarry, they stood up and pulled their trigger twice. The unscathed gnus with a bounding rush instantly fled, leaving four of their number lying on the ground for the supplies of the caravan.
Darkness had already set in, and the camp was far-away, neither of them really knew how far, so tortuous had been their course. Throughout the entire length of their winding track, they had seen no sign of any group of carriers following in their rear. Lions were very numerous in the district, and were already prowling about on the plain in numbers. In that area as many as a dozen had been seen together.
The two hunters started off to reach the camp, but it was at once discovered that each was intent on going on in different directions. The one said the camp was away to the left, while the other asserted that it certainly lay to the right. My husband told the doctor that the route he was taking would lead in an almost opposite direction to that of the camp, while the doctor persisted that his path was right. My husband again assured him of his mistake, telling him that to proceed in that course would mean certain death, and further brought before his notice the recent loss of the lives of two Europeans, who were under a misconception regarding their latitude, and had wandered away from their camp in error.
The doctor then suggested them both going some distance in his direction, with the hope that they might soon discover themselves in familiar surroundings. My husband, being the younger man, did not care to decline doing so, but, for the sake of the doctor's life and his own and the wife and family of each, he decidedly refused to go a single yard on the suggested course, saying that he would prefer to remain on that spot till the morning, unless the doctor would go with him on the way which he believed would lead towards the camp.
My husband tried to light fire the grass, as a guiding light to guide those carriers who might be searching for them, and to scare off lions and other carnivores; but the growth of the grass being only a few inches high, and already wet with dew, it was impossible to raise a conflagration. The doctor then fired a few of his remaining cartridges to attract the attention of any search party which might be in the vicinity; but to the repeated discharge of firearms there was no response, save the far-off sounds of prowling carnivores.
The doctor suggested kneeling down and asking God about the matter. Both fell upon the ground, and each one sought the guidance and blessing of the omnipresent God, who ever answers the cry of those who trust in Him. Rising from their knees, both were prepared to concede somewhat to one another's opinion, and proceed for a short time in a direction which lay half way between the two courses suggested, where they were to wait and see what guidance the Lord might be pleased to give them. Arm in arm they trudged in the dense darkness along the middle way, up rising ground, and, on reaching the top of a hill, they saw away on the horizon to the right the steady glow of the camp fires, on the dark vault which overhung the plain. God had fully answered their prayers.
Scanning the darkness more carefully, they caught sight of two small moving lights, also on their right hand, proceeding forward in a direction that would have led beyond them and missed them by a mile. These two lanterns belonged to the band of porters from the camp, who were patiently plodding their way, seeking to discover the whereabouts of the hunters.
One or two shots from my husband's rifle brought the party in the direction of the fallen game. While the carcasses were being cut up by the dim light of the lanterns, the carnivores were so numerous that it was difficult to keep them away, but eventually the entire party arrived safely in camp.
The following morning my husband said goodbye to the Bishop and his large following of Missionaries, with whom it was a privilege to meet. One of that party, Martin J. Hall, was a very spiritually minded man, and one who had been much used of God in the salvation of many children, in connection with the "Children's Special Service Mission" in the homeland. He was motivated by one purpose and object, and that was the saving of precious souls. He expressed a special desire to join us in our work among the wild Akamba, and afterward wrote to my husband of his settled idea concerning this matter. When, however, we were expecting a letter giving the probable date of his arrival, we heard the sad news of his death by drowning in Lake Victoria Nyanza.
In the biography of his life, entitled, "In Full and Glad Surrender," by his sister, his diary is published; and in it he makes reference to his journey up country and his camping in our district in the following terms:—"...The Bishop and Doctor Baxter started at 8 a.m. to visit Mr. Stuart Watt, formerly a C.M.S. Missionary at Mpwapwa, but now living here with his wife and children as an independent Missionary. It was so refreshing to see these sweet healthy little English faces in this far off land. These little people came up here with their parents about two years ago in the rainy season, and though wet from rain day after day seemed none the worse for it, so that the achievement of our party of ladies is nothing so very startling after all. Mr. Watt lives with his wife and children in a remote place in the hills called N'gelani. We left Machakos after quite a touching goodbye to the dear little Watt children. In spite of their wild surroundings they have been beautifully brought up and have most charming manners and look the picture of health. "It is solemn and sad to march day after day through these vast, thickly populated districts and to know that for the Wakamba- a shepherd people of about one million—there are only two Missionaries, whilst for the Kikuyu, a huge tribe, there is not a solitary Christian teacher..."
To us it was a matter for thankfulness to God that the Bishop and his first party of ladies arrived safely on the shores of the Lake, for, at a time when we thought they had got through the most dangerous part of the journey, we heard the news that a small party of warriors had attacked a well-armed body of about thirty C.M.S. mail runners, not far from the Bishop's encampment, and in a few minutes had slaughtered twenty of their number.
It was with great joy, in the following year, we welcomed to Ukamba some Missionaries from the United States, who settled down on the south-eastern boundary of the country. The leader of the band was Mr. Peter Scott. Unfortunately the district in which he built his station was rather unhealthy and the natives thinly scattered. We gave to Mr. Scott a hearty invitation to come further inland near to our district, where the population was more dense and the climate less difficult. The result was that he commenced work within a day's march of our Mission Station. His constitution had been already much weakened, and very soon he and another Missionary, named Allen, were struck with fever and passed away to their reward; and, sad to say, the Mission ultimately ceased.
Since my husband had already reduced the language of the Akamba to writing, the way was fully opened for the Messengers of the Gospel, and we deeply felt the loss sustained in the removal of these two Missionaries, who were just beginning to know how to express their ideas in the Kikamba tongue. We fervently appealed to Mr. C. Hurlburt, who was on the home council of their Mission, to take up the work in Africa which had been left by those who had died on the field. The way did not then seem open to him, but some years afterward he responded to the call, and we were rejoiced to see the Mission restarted.
Feeling deeply the urgent needs of the vast unoccupied country around us, we were afterward led to ask Bishop Peel, of the Church Missionary Society, at Mombasa, about the great desirability of opening a C.M.S. Mission station in the Ukamba country.
We had the privilege of welcoming him on a visit to our station, and after a long period had gone, during which there seemed some difficulty about securing a proper site, we heard the glad news that the Bishop was determined to take up work among the Akamba people. A dwelling house was brought out from England and erected among the hills of the border land, and two Missionaries worked there for some years, but alas! the station was eventually abandoned. Our hearts were grieved at the lack of laborers in fields ripened for the sickle. In that wide expanse of lost humanity we were then left without any brother Missionaries, save Johnston and Evans from America, who clung to their post with admirable courage. During my husband's heavy work about the station, and while preaching in low-lying districts, he was often struck by severe fevers, which at times made him very sick, but on recovering he carried on as usual with his work until an attack of hematuria, commonly known as blackwater fever, laid him at the very verge of death. When we first went out to East Equatorial Africa in 1885, this malignant disease was then unheard of and unknown. It has now become quite common, and many Missionaries have fallen victims to its swift and deadly stroke. The strong, active and robust seem to be its most likely victims, and these it brings within the jaws of death in the space of a few hours. It is now the most fatal sickness of tropical Africa, and it is considered that only about one person out of every ten recover. Its cause and origin is still covered in mystery. A man may be in perfect health in the morning and dead in the afternoon. The red corpuscles of the blood get immediately broken up and destroyed.
On the day that my husband was stricken with hematuric fever, he was in his usual health in the early part of the day, and rose at his ordinary hour just when dawn was breaking. He had only come home the day before from a hundred mile journey. A short time after rising he became quite ill, and by midday he was in a outburst of fever, so violent that he attempted to throw himself out of the bed. It seemed impossible for him to breathe. The blood had undergone a great and immediate change, and already he was purple in the face. In combination with these symptoms there was heavy hemorrhage from the renal glands. This stage lasted until he was completely exhausted, and then he sank into a deathly comatose condition, in which every moment seemed to be his last.
We can never fully estimate the service rendered to us at this time by the three European officers of the distant government fort, Ainsworth, Lane and Hinde. Mr. Lane sat by his bedside night after night, even when there was not the faintest ray of hope that he could recover. However, it pleased the Lord to raise up my husband again, and in a few weeks' time he was once more busily engaged in his work, though never afterward was he the same healthy man.
At this period of our life among the Akamba, our funds had been greatly reduced, and a matter of very important consideration to us had been the huge cost of living in the interior of the Continent. The proceeds of our property, which we thought might have supported the Mission for a lengthened period, were being quickly swallowed up in huge caravan expenses and labor. The transport of goods from London was becoming a serious item. It would indeed have seemed as if the £2,000 per year, which the Imperial British East Africa Company suggested, would be required to support a Mission in these unopened regions. Apart from the actual cost of food, clothing and all household utensils and station basics, and the packing of same and freight to the Coast, the porterage up country alone from Mombasa to our station cost £150 per ton gross, or about two shillings per lb. net.
We had wanted to lessen our imports, and as a result our expenses, by attempting to grow some food in our little garden, as our plain flour loaves had been costing us several shillings each. On the borders of the great inland lakes, bananas flourished in great quantity, and on these the Missionaries could survive, while along the moist, low-lying districts of the Coast, mangoes, pineapples and cocoanuts thrived in significant quantity. But on the dry equatorial uplands of Ukamba where we lived, none of these were native to the soil, nor could they be grown to maturity, and we were totally dependent on supplies received from London at an vast expense. We had ordered from Australia, Tasmania and Japan different kinds of fruit trees, which might with care give reasonably good results. Only a few, however, survived the long journey, and a second and third shipment were ordered and received before we got a few trees to show signs of adaptability to the climate and give promise of fruit.
The country was also void of any kind of grain worth growing. We had, therefore, obtained from various parts of the world small quantities of quick-growing wheat seed which might be found fitting, and out of these we had discovered one species of Egyptian grain which seemed quite adapted to tropical conditions. A small plot of this corn was in full ear and the few fruit trees had just thrown out some tender branches, when there came a plague of locusts upon the country, which destroyed the high expectations we expected and spoiled our prospects of obtaining fairly low-cost bread.
Never can we forget the day those locusts came. Out on the northern horizon we saw a cloud rising from the earth heavenward, until it assumed almost alarming size. At first it seemed like threatening signs of a torrential rain, but never before had we rain from the north, where those huge unearthly accumulations were seen. Taking up a pair of powerful field glasses, we could see that the clouds were formed of integral bodies, like remarkable flakes of brown—colored snow, and had already begun to move toward us with considerable speed. Some natives close by seemed apparently interested in the strange phenomenon, and calling them to us we asked what it might be. With a signal meaning disaster, they replied, "N'gie!" (Locusts!).
Before we had ended our conversation with them, the huge living cloud had reached us and was soaring overhead. In a few minutes the entire heavens were covered by the passing myriads, and so dense was the mass that the midday sun was blotted out and the sky covered with a moving pall of blackness. The rushing sound of their wings was like the roaring of the sea in a mighty storm. For a time it seemed as if the countless millions would pass us by and that our little garden, reclaimed from the jungle, which had cost us so much effort, might be spared from swift destruction and its produce yet reaped.
After the course of an hour or more the flight of those dense, winged clouds was lowered, and soon the locusts touched the earth and struck us on the face and clung to our clothing. While we stood amazed at the descent of these airborne hosts, we found that the ground was actually covered with their bodies, and they were still falling in undiminished numbers until the ground was covered with a seething, living heap several inches deep. Our garden was already brown with the devastating armies, which were plying their powerful jaws on every twig and leaf and blade. The tiny plot of valuable wheat which had been four feet high was now weighed down to the ground with the multitudes of hungry devastators, for on every single stalk of wheat there were not less than a dozen locusts and on some twice that number.
In the same garden we had planted a little maize, which we had introduced from Virginia for the benefit of the natives, the stems of which were six to eight feet high, and whose silken tassels were just beginning to stick out from the immature cobs. In the course of half an hour every hint of vegetation was cut off as clean as if it had been mown by some mighty reaper. While the green herbage was rapidly disappearing, the sound of the chewing of the jaws of the ravaging hosts was one continued deafening din. In one short hour the landscape was covered with gloom and desolation. Never, perhaps, in all our varied experiences in Equatorial Africa have we been so conscious of the omnipotence of the Lord God Almighty as on that day.
On the following morning, as soon as the burning sun warmed the earth, the locusts took to flight, leaving the ground entirely covered with their excrements. We were therefore obliged to give up any idea of growing staple food for at least another year or more, until we could get a further supply of seed. We had been fairly successful with potatoes, passion fruit, tomatoes and Cape gooseberries, and all but the potato may now be found growing wild here and there over the Equatorial Regions for many hundreds of miles, the seed having been carried hither and thither by the birds.
Potatoes we planted for three seasons before we partook of a single one at our table. Fourteen pounds had been secured from Messrs. Sutton and Sons of Reading, when we started on our expedition, but these were carried about for many months in the tropics before we were able to fix upon a station site and plant them. About four pounds then remained out of the fourteen, and so much exhausted was the residue with the continual growth while on the march, that from the first season's crop we reaped exactly the same weight as we had planted, to be exact: four pounds.
Our food and funds were both getting very low, while the continual drain of caravan and other expenses seemed ever on the increase. Goods from London, of which we were in dire need, had been then lying at the Coast for us some months, and it seemed absolutely impossible to get a caravan sent up country with them. The government having taken over the country had just commenced at Mombasa to build a railway, which was eventually to reach Lake Victoria Nyanza, and all available Coast porters were engaged in the government service.
My husband determined, therefore, to seek to get a number of the raw natives of the Akamba tribe to accompany him to the Coast, for the purpose of fetching up the loads which were there deposited. Such an undertaking had never been suggested before, and it was not at all certain that the natives could be persuaded to venture on such a project. However, when the plan was made known among those of our immediate district who had attended our Gospel meetings, there were thirty volunteers who at once came forward and said that they were ready to go to the sea with the Bwana. This truly was evidence of a wonderful influence which had been brought to bear upon these naked natives. Spontaneously they had offered to follow the white man into the unknown on a journey of eight hundred miles through the wilderness, not knowing what dangers lurked for them on the way, and whether the low-lying jungles of the Coast might harbor for them disease and death.
I did not like my husband taking these men down country in their absolute nudity, and for ten days I sat making clothes for them out of Indian calico, at the rate of three suits a day, so that each man might have a jacket and pair of knickers. Every possible preparation was made by my husband for the journey, but at the same time we could not help thinking that the caution of the volunteers might yet overcome their bravery, and the plan for getting our goods up country eventually fall through. It was quite a surprise to us, therefore, when, on the morning appointed for the departure, twenty-five strong natives appeared, each with a supply of grain in a goatskin satchel sufficient to last for the outward journey of four hundred miles. The nude warriors put on their knickers and jackets, in which none of them seemed to feel quite at home, and then all were ready for the march.
Never before, since we had entered the wilds of Central Africa, had my husband planned on leaving me among the natives for such a long period of time, to go on such a lengthened journey. Many were the thoughts that filled my mind of what might happen to me and the children during his absence or happen to him and his men on the way; but we fully commended all to the care of our loving Father and rested completely in Him. The last goodbye was spoken, and I saw my husband turn his back upon the station, and go off on his long march of many hundreds of miles through the wilderness, as if he were only going across the hills on a single day's journey.
Although the actual geographical distance to and from the Coast may not have been more than six hundred miles, yet the winding and doubling of the path through the bush was such that on our way up country we considered that a true estimate of the distance traversed might be obtained by adding one mile to every three, as an allowance for the windings and detours of the twisted path.
Before leaving me, my husband had given instructions to his blood-brother chieftain to look after our safety, and in a measure made him responsible for my safe keeping. The work went on as usual in my husband's absence, and in my extra moments I added somewhat to the furnishings of our bare, wattle-and-daub rooms. Out of the wood of supply boxes we had made some tables, but apart from these, our camp beds and a few chairs, we had very little furniture. With some midribs of palm trees which were obtained about thirty miles away, together with reeds from a neighboring stream, I was able to make a very strong cabinet and sideboard and some shelves for the corners, all of which were found to be very useful in our jungle home.
When this was finished I found that some boots had to be made for the younger children, and others required mending, and with patience and perseverance I was able to accomplish this adequately out of some ready wildebeest hide.
While I was thus busy, our young children were under the charge of two native boys, who were forbidden to take them many yards from the station buildings, lest they might get bitten by the numerous snakes which abounded in the vicinity. One of the children had a very narrow escape one morning. While they were all out gathering flowers, the child was attracted by a beautiful, speckled coil which lay among the variegated plant life of the surrounding growth. Coming up to it, the little one stretched out its hand towards the delightful object, and immediately there was thrust out from the center of the coil the extended jaws of one of our most venomous snakes, the kiko. The child, then fully realizing its danger, turned to flee, pursued by the reptile, and managed to reach the house just before collapsing in a faint.
This red-banded kiko is the only snake in those parts which will ever attempt to follow up its prospective victim. It is the most active and dangerous of reptiles, and some children who have been bitten by it have never risen from the spot on which they were attacked, so soon does death result.
On another occasion one of our little boys was playing in the corner of the dining-room, and lifting up the coconut matting which covered the earthen floor of our dwelling, a snake shot forth its forked tongue, and the little fellow was so frightened that he fell back helpless. I immediately rushed forward and killed the reptile with a stick.
It was very difficult to get the natives to kill any of these snakes, simply because they did not wish to run the risk of being bitten. Some of the Akamba brought to the children little antelopes to which they were greatly attached as playmates, and, as three of these animals had died in sequence from snake bites, we determined to dig out a convenient anthill where I thought snakes might be likely to hide themselves. Two natives were chosen to this work.
With their sharp, pointed sticks of hard wood they soon entered the beaten crust of earth which surmounted the tunnels of the busy hive of ants. After getting down a few feet below the surface, they were startled by seeing a huge snake of the kiko species thrusting its crimson-barred neck through one of the holes of the mound. Immediately the natives rushed from the hole and fled for their lives. Being encouraged, however, by the promise of a big reward for the body of the snake, they again timidly commenced operations. No sooner had they done so, than the red-crested head was shot forth once and again in a terror-inspiring attitude. A long pointed pole was then secured and plunged far into the soil below the place where the serpent was lurking; and a fulcrum having been placed underneath it, the ground was raised up, exposing a large portion of the reptile's body, when a well aimed blow on the head put an end to its malignant powers. The latter part of the body of the snake was found to be encircling half a dozen large, extended eggs covered with a membranous cover. On opening these with a knife, I found in each one a perfectly formed and wonderfully active baby snake.
During my husband's long and difficult march to the Coast, the work was carried on without any serious event outside the fact that a native had, on one time, threatened to drive his long blade into my heart—a threat which I hindered with a simple smile.
One day I gave a couple of knives to two of the men who were working for me, and sent them into the forest for some fibrous bark, as I was having an extra outhouse built for the use of the men and boys employed on the station. After some time one of them returned alone with his load of bark and, being questioned concerning his companion, he expressed ignorance of what had become of him. On handing his knife to me it was discovered that he had also in his possession the knife of the missing man. Fearing some foul play, I had him tied up immediately, and sent two natives to the locality in the forest where the fiber had been obtained. These eventually came back with the news that they had found the missing native dead, in a sitting posture against the base of a tree, with some marks on his neck as if he had been strangled.
Because most of the men with whom we mingled and who worked on our station were used to the taking of human life, I did nothing more than send him away, after making known to him the way of pardon and eternal life. In a couple of days his own body was found dead in the bush near to our station, having succumbed to a swift and mortal native illness, which was evidenced by certain discolorations.
God wonderfully preserved me and the children during those long days and nights in our loneliness in Africa. Between two and three weeks after the date of my husband's departure for the Coast, a native came to me one day bringing a letter from my husband, who was traveling on fairly well on his journey towards the sea, though somewhat saddened concerning the conditions in which he left us on the station. The letter ran as follows: -
Kiboko Camp, Monday night.
My Dear Rachel,
Many have been my thoughts about you all since I left home and my prayers have daily, perhaps hourly, ascended to God on your behalf. I have at times been filled with sorrow concerning the condition of severe privations under which I left you and the children, for even as far as the ordinary necessities of life are concerned we have come very low. I could bear all with dogged perseverance myself, but to ask you and the children to bear it with me breaks my heart. And yet why should I thus speak, for there could be no greater privilege than suffering and enduring for the sake of our blessed Jesus, in spreading the knowledge of Him among the people with whom God in His providence has cast our lot.
I appreciate that self-sacrificing life which you have ever shown since the day I first saw you, and I am sure the Master will honor you for it. I feel intensely the great charge your little ones are upon you in my absence amidst hostile surroundings, but God will give you every needed grace and bless your every effort.
On our march to-day we had a very narrow escape from two rhinoceroses. The bush was thick and the track we followed was winding and tortuous, with a hot scorching breeze blowing strong in our face. Owing to the wind coming from the beasts to us they were unaware of our presence until we were right among them. I could have almost caught the tail of one. The men fled in the utmost consternation through the thick bush. The great monsters seemed almost as much terrified as we were ourselves, and puffing and blowing they charged into the dense jungle. The man who carried my rifle bolted immediately; but even if he had stood his ground I could have done nothing at the moment, for the rifle was unloaded, and both animals and men had all alike disappeared in a second.
I have now an opportunity of sending this letter to you by some natives who are passing towards Wathomi so I shall send it on. I may have another opportunity of getting a letter taken to you, and I shall then, all being well, write a note to each of my little children. I am thinking very much about them. Good-night, my darling. Good-night, my dear little children. My dear Rachel, if anything happens to me, or if I be killed by animals or men, my last words would be, "Tell my little children of the love of Jesus every day until you are as certain as you live that they know Him by a true and living faith." Be patient and firm with the Akamba, and carry on the work among them as long as your stores of barter goods will last. May the God of Abraham and of Isaac and of Jacob be your God always. Commending you to His loving care, and with fondest love till we meet again. Stuart.
The preceding was the last message I had from my husband on that difficult journey. With feverish body and through terrible drought, he made his way onward day by day over arid wilderness and across the blazing Taru desert, now and again digging holes in the deep dips of the dry watercourses for a little precious water. Although himself sick, he was ever watchful of his porters, and through nonstop watchfulness prevented them, even in the madness of their thirst, from drinking the filthy water before it was boiled.
The men arrived at the Coast in fairly good health, but the strong, iron constitution of my husband was much weakened through the continuous fever which clung to him. Being eager of returning up country as early as possible, he got together all the loads his men could carry and of which we were in most urgent need, and having secured a good supply of Indian rice for the use of his porters, he prepared to begin the return journey. So that his porters might not be seriously inconvenienced on the way, he reduced each load to two-thirds the usual weight.
The day before that on which they were to leave the Coast, my husband was conscious of having symptoms of dysenteric fever, and he had considered the matter of postponing his departure on that account. Being anxious, however, concerning my isolated and dangerous position, he resolved to try to reach home as soon as possible, and therefore started at once on his long march up country, trusting in God to aid him on the homeward way.
For several days, though suffering great agony, he was able to march at the head of his men, leading them to camping places where water might be obtained. A number of the shallow, stagnant pools they had visited on their march down country were found to be completely dried up, and the surface covered with the footprints of wild animals. Due to the men being heavily weighed down and not used to burdens, it was impossible for them to travel either as quickly or as far in a single day's journey as they had done when empty-handed on their march to the sea, so that they had not the same choice of waterholes, and had to be satisfied with more filthy water. The result was that he and several of his men were soon stricken down with severe dysentery and fever. They had then reached the uninhabited region of the Taru wilderness, and to save their lives it was necessary to press forward, as there was no hope of any better water until striking the bed of the river Voi.
Although most severely ill my husband sought to lead a normal day's march, but, with almost superhuman effort, he and his caravan of weary porters were not able to cover a distance of more than eight or ten miles. On these journeys he suffered inexpressible agony, and often felt as if he could not possibly go a step further. Even so, inasmuch as a still larger number of his men were developing dysenteric symptoms, he determined with the help of God to seek to save their lives and his own by making every possible effort to pass through the uninhabited jungle and reach the Taita country, where water could be obtained.
It was utterly impossible for him and those of his men who were ill to proceed any further under the burning rays of the vertical sun, so he resolved to rest in the daytime and travel at night. When the moon rose above the horizon, about seven o'clock, they started on their first night's march, and plodded along until they had covered about a dozen miles and then camped for the day. They found that their bodies, much weakened by disease, suffered less from exhaustion while traveling the bush-covered wilderness in the cool atmosphere underneath the midnight stars. Night after night in succession they walked the weary and painful way, each night setting out about an hour later than the previous one, so that they might have the benefit of the moonlight, and save themselves from plunging into hidden cavities or stumbling over stumps of decayed trees or protruding roots, which lay along the winding pathway they pursued through the jungle. Oftentimes the caravan was put into a state of panic by the rush of some wild animal through the surrounding bushes.
Under ordinary circumstances, the caravan porters break out in singing on the march to vary the monotony of the unending onward march. Their progression through the forest on this occasion, however, was sad in the extreme, and the only addition to the sound of their weary footsteps was the hum of night-time insects and the grunt and roar of wild animals.
Often in the middle of the night my husband has lain down on his back on the bare ground, and, looking up to the starry sky, has thought of the mystery of human suffering, and of what it costs in some instances to carry the Gospel to the unopened regions of Darkest Africa. Then, in the indescribable torture of his painful and wasting disease, his thoughts have been directed to the olive garden on the further side of the brook Kidron, and to the little mound of Calvary outside the gate of the City Jerusalem; and then he has realized that it was but right that we should have fellowship with His sufferings.
Of the twenty-five robust and stalwart porters that accompanied him, twenty were then very sick with dysentery, some of whom were as much weakened as himself, but who, in their fight for life, were able to move on seven to eight miles during a single night's march.
So uncaring were the men to their own interests that on several occasions my husband found them throwing into the bush the rice which was their only food, so that their loads might be thereby lightened. When they were reprimanded for their recklessness regarding the preservation of their own lives, they were found to resort to the practice of pricking small holes in their rice bags, so that the grain might gradually and unnoticeably spill itself along the track as they proceeded on their way. But for the hope which my husband instilled into their hearts regarding the possibility of driving their way through the dry, dried up jungle, they would have laid down in despair in the bush until death would have ended their sufferings. With unfailing strength and courage, my husband fought his way with the men foot by foot in the hours of darkness, towards the water which they expected to reach at the base of the Taita hills.
On the last, desperate, midnight tramp over the thirsty, fissure-rent wilderness, ere they reached the valley of the Voi, the masika (rainy season) began with a terrific fall of rain, which deluged the earth and flowed in continuous streams along the uneven surface of the ground. The storm came on with terrible suddenness, and the weak and wearied travelers had no warning whatever of its approach, except that the sky had become rapidly cloudy and the moon hidden from view. This did not call for them stopping on their journey in the darkness of the night, and unpacking and pitching tents, and for this reason they pursued their way until the storm poured upon them with sudden violence. The downpour was so overwhelming and nonstop that it was impossible for the porters to continue their march a step further, and with stoical indifference they threw themselves down in the bush, which provided no shelter at all against such a crushing downpour. To one of the men, that night's march was his last on earth, for he shortly afterward died from the awful disease which had laid hold of him.
As my husband lay across the bare, wrinkled surface of the earth, which had been beaten by the tracks of wild animals, he could feel the flow of water rushing underneath his exhausted body. He had become so weak and exhausted that he was unable to direct the movements of his native porters. His body, once strong and powerful, had been reduced to a mere shadow of his former condition.
In this state, however, he continued with God-given help to go on for several days, partially supported by one of his men, until he reached the Tsavo district, where he completely collapsed and was unable to stand or even sit up. His porters, poor, wild natives of the forest, were not able to do anything for him. They concluded that he was dying and that they must remain there until he passed away.
On the evening of the second day in that camp by the side of the river Tsavo, a native caravan from the Coast arrived at their camp; and the chief of the caravan, on hearing that the white man was very ill, went to the tent and made known to my husband that he had eight men without any loads, and suggested that these empty-handed porters should carry him, and the two caravans go on together on the following morning. My husband gratefully agreed to his wishes. The men cut down a pole in the forest, and to this was tied a carrying hammock, and all was made ready for a forward march on the next day. At early dawn the caravan moved out of the riverside camp, and for three days they carried my husband, who became so weak that he could scarcely express an clear sound. The porters, believing that he was dead or about to pass away, laid him down in the forest and fled.
His own faithful men, many of whom were terribly ill, then made a little camp in the thick bush, and there he lay for several days, while they and he gained some strength, after partaking of free drinks of pure water, which was obtained from a neighboring stream. Eventually he recovered sufficiently to realize his position, and to learn that some of his men were dying, four of whom ultimately fell victims to the deadly scourge which had so long held them in its grip. He instructed two of his strongest porters to proceed to the Scotch Mission Station at Kibwezi, about forty five miles away, and ask Dr. Wilson to send men to carry him there, as he was lying in the jungle unable to move.
With great speed the Doctor started off with a party of carriers, and made his way to the forest camp where my husband was lying ill, and the majority of his porters scattered in the bush, and some of them sick unto death.
Dr. Wilson, who was not in very good health himself, was so worn out with his speedy march that he had to rest a night in camp before beginning the return journey.
On the succeeding night my husband, who was then at the very verge of the grave, was carefully lifted once more into his hammock and carried away westward. Some long stops were made on the march to rest the carriers and allow the weaker men to keep in touch with the main body of the caravan, so that they might not be caught by wild animals. When the scorching sun rose high in the heavens on the following day, my husband felt that he could not live another hour. The heat was terrible and life was departing fast. For five or six days no food had crossed his lips. Even when, at last, the long looked for Mission house came in view and was only a few hundred yards ahead, he did not expect to be able to reach the building alive. Eventually the hammock was laid down on the floor of the Mission room, but my husband was then speechless.
Dr. Wilson immediately sent a message up country to me, telling that my husband had been brought into his station in a very low condition, but that he hoped with God's blessing he might recover. Several days after this message was sent me the Lord gave signs of recovery; and about twenty days later he was carried up into the interior, and reached home after an absence of three long, weary months.