Much water has flowed down the hills and gullies of Akamba since the preceding chapters were written. Much might be recorded of all that has since, by the grace of God, been accomplished in the intervening eight years, but I intend only to outline here the events of a brief fourteen months.
In February, 1913, a little party of four set out to visit once again the field to which they had been called of the Lord. Little did we think, when England's cliffs faded away on the horizon, that two of our number were going out never to return. Mombasa was reached after four weeks, and we were glad to be back once more amidst dusky faces. Vast changes had, however, been produced since our last visit to the country. At the port of landing, and at Nairobi, the capital of B.E.A., we found many large stone buildings in course of erection which told of commercial activity and prosperity. The country was being gradually occupied by European settlers, and stretches of country, where so recently nature had held full sway, and where wild beasts roamed unmolested, were being gradually brought under the influences of civilization. Wagon tracks showed themselves over the previously trackless bush, and here and there, as one moved about over familiar scenes, something of a new era appeared in the glimpses which we caught of stretches of newly-turned red-brown earth and freshly planted belts of trees.
Africa is changing under the impulses of civilization, and Africa's sons, too, must change. Little troubled by these new influences, they are quickly adapting themselves to the ways of the white man, and are becoming increasingly skilled workers. It is inexpressibly sad, however, to realize what potent evil influences have at the same time been introduced by Indians and others. In the towns especially there is in a marked degree an evidence of the degradation that is the outcome of civilization without Christ.
In the tribal reserve, however, to which we now bent our way no great changes had been formed. Old friends crowded round us as we settled down close to our former home on the N'gelani hills to await the Lord's opening to a new area of work. Many were the welcomes we received, and our hearts went up in praise to God that He had given us an entrance with those to whom we had come to proclaim afresh "Jesus Christ and Him crucified." My son Stuart and daughter Eva had altogether forgotten the native language, but with the help of a faithful Christian native, Nzau, they made rapid progress. This man had been led some years before to acknowledge Christ through the instrumentality of a devoted servant of God, Mr, M'Kenrick. As they wandered round the hills, from village to village, crowds of native children, boys and girls, would follow them and take great interest in the education of the Bwana (sir/master) and Bibi (mistress) in their language; they would point out some object, naming it at the same time, and would be highly delighted to hear their new friends and pupils repeating it after them.
We erected several huts at this camp to supplement our tent accommodation, and here we were destined to wait for over six months, pending a grant from the Government of a suitable site for a Mission Station. Night after night beside the camp fires would we gather the natives around us, telling them of the Savior's love, and pleading their surrender to Him. Nzau, who was constantly with us, often added, in words more graphic than our own, his testimony to the saving and keeping power of God, and, though few were led out into public confession of Him, we know that, by the Holy Spirit's power, hearts were touched; later on we had the joy of hearing several profess acceptance of Christ. Occasionally my husband would go out, accompanied by Stuart and a few porters, to carry light camp equipment. They would spend several days at a time seeking to reach with the Gospel villages that were beyond our daily scope.
It was when on one such journey that he was led to the base of some hills, twenty-five miles away, to the village of a chief who had in former years been living near us, but as a result of foreign settlement in that district had moved back with many others into fresh and uninhabited land. It was his request that we should leave our camp on the hills and settle down near to his own kraal, on land bordering the great forest-crowned hills of Donyo Sabuk. But we had yet to go through deep waters before that could be. A scourge of kiathi (yellow fever) had broken out in the area, and through it many a strong young native was brought to the grave in a few hours. On returning from the Donyo Sabuk district on the 20th July, 1913, my husband was riding along with Stuart, expecting to reach N'gelani on the following day. Camp was made near Coma Rock, on the plains between N'gelani and Donyo Sabuk, but soon after getting into camp Stuart complained of feeling ill. The following letter tells more vividly than I can all that followed:-
N'gelani, July 25, 1913.
You will long since have received the sad news of our darling Tooty (our son Stuart's native name) having gone to be with Jesus, and we have been praying earnestly that God may bear you up in His arms that the message may not be too great a one for you to bear. Our hearts have been very sore, but our blessed Savior had drawn near to us, and we just look up to Him and say, "All must be well," although the void in our own home is very great. And now I will tell you in a few words something of the last hours our faithful brother spent on this earth. He and father went away for a journey of about twenty-five miles together across the plain to Mathaini. They left on a Monday, and mother and I were expecting them back on the Saturday following, but they did not arrive. On Sunday dear mother felt very lonely, and seemed to have a foreboding of some mishap to either Stuart or father, and as it happened it was on that very afternoon that our Tooty took ill with fever. In the morning he and father had been taking a meeting at one of the villages, and as the men thought it wise to move on a little way towards home, they proceeded to another big village on the plain. Stuart was then in perfect health and talking to father all the way.
On reaching the camping ground about four o'clock he said, "I feel a bit hungry, father." Daddy told him he would soon have a fire lit and the kettle boiling, and he began gathering some sticks. When he asked Stuart to help him drag in a log that was nearby, he replied that he did not feel able, so father went off to bring it himself, thinking that Stuart was a little tired and stiff from riding on the horse. When he came back, however, he found the poor boy with his face pale and yellow, and sitting with his head down between his knees. He told father he was feeling quite ill, so some grass was quickly gathered to serve for a mattress, and all the blankets were laid on this for him. Meanwhile his teeth were chattering, and he was shivering all over with cold, and was soon put to bed in a high fever. It was only half an hour from the time he rode into camp in health that he told father he believed he was going to die. Many a time during the night father thought that mother would never see her darling's face again, so terrible was his condition. A man was sent to cut a pole in the darkness, that, if possible, Stuart might be carried home in the morning; but towards daybreak perspiration broke on him and he got relief. He told father that he need not be carried, for he was able to sit on the horse and ride home, and so he did.
Accordingly a man was sent on ahead to tell mother that Stuart had been ill, and to ask us to get a bed ready for him in one of the grass huts, as this would be cooler than a tent. About one o'clock our dear boy rode info camp, but his pale and jaundiced face had death stamped on it. We laid him down on the bed we had prepared in the hut, but he could hardly speak to us, and was soon once again in a high fever, All the afternoon he was in great pain, and was continually asking for water; towards evening the delirium was greatly increased, and the pain in his head seemed to be almost unbearable, being relieved, only for a very short time, by bathing with cold water, The most he ever said was to call us by our names, but even this he was unable to do during the night.
That evening I wrote in my diary, "We have been laid very low at God's feet; we feel He has afflicted us to teach us His will, but have asked that dear Stuart's sufferings may not be prolonged." We little realized that in a few short hours his pain would be ended forever and ever. Mother, by God's grace, was led to note down at the same time in her own notebook, "In full and glad surrender I give my son to Thee." Jesus accepted that offering and the sacrifice that Tooty himself was willing to make for the cross of Christ. Mother and I lay down a short time to sleep, but though I got a little rest, yet mother got none; soon both of us were up again with father by Stuart's bedside, putting cold towels to his burning forehead to try and allay the pain. After midnight his sufferings were intense, and he could not speak, nor even recognize us. At four o'clock we saw what we might have called a change for the worse, but God knew better. He became black and blue in the face, and breathing was short and difficult; father said to us, "I am afraid to tell you, but the end is near."
Gradually those eyes, that just a short few hours before were bright and sparkling with life and health, became vacant and staring. We felt at that time the Lord so near and so mighty; we told Stuart that he was going to Jeans, and that we too would soon he with him. Often we repeated, "Jesus is going to take you home, darling." We quoted to him some promises of the Savior, "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat, for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. "Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." "Who are these that are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they? These are they that came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Then we tried to sing the verse of a hymn; our hearts wanted to, but our throats stopped with grief, so we just repeated these words to our Tooty boy, three or four times, an we saw him nearing the brink of the narrow stream that divides this life from the life beyond:
When shall these eyes Thy heaven-built walls and pearly gates behold,
Thy bulwarks of salvation, strong and streets of shining gold?
Then, just five minutes before the Lord took him, his eyes lit up, and he was given consciousness to know that his earthly journey was at an end, and he was entering his eternal rest, for he made a desperate effort to pull out his hand from the blankets, gave us each a last grasp, and then pointed upwards with longing gaze. A beautiful stillness and placid peacefulness came over the once fever-tortured brow; he gave a smile, and then the eyes grew fainter, until at last with one soft gentle breath they closed, and our darling boy had been taken to the arms of Jesus. The blow was great, but we were ready; we had prayed and interceded with God at his bedside for His own glory to be accomplished, and left the choice with Him. Although our hearts were sad and borne down with grief, yet we could not but praise Him for His gracious love in taking our darling away from the cares and woes of this world. Only God knows what sorrows he has been spared through being called to glory in the flower of his early manhood. It was five o'clock in the morning, just as the light of day Was breaking, that be was taken, and as the sun rose above the hill I could not help looking away beyond to where he stands with the ransomed throng; his crowning day has come, and God has a blessed purpose in taking him away. It has affected my life, for more than ever I mean by His grace to strive for souls during ray few remaining days on earth. Oh! how quickly he was translated into eternity! Let you and I be ready every minute for that call! On Thursday, the twenty-fourth of July, we laid Stuart's body in the grave. I had made a wreath of roses with mother's help, and on a card eve put the words;
In Loving Memory of our Faithful and Devoted Stuart,
In whose regenerated life, the grace of Christ was magnified.
His Gain—Our Loss.
Father, with a heavy heart, had gone into Machakos on Tuesday morning to send you home the cable and order a coffin to be made. When our dear one's body had been laid in it, mother covered the box with a piece of white muslin. Many of the Europeans in the district Bent flowers and wreaths, and many, too, wrote us of their loving sympathy. About nine o'clock on Thursday morning the coffin was placed on a cart drawn by two oxen, and we made our way down to a lonely spot (near to the rocks where we used to play together, and overlooking the Akamba hills he loved so well), which was to be the last resting-place of his earthly tabernacle. We were accompanied by nine Europeans and about twenty natives, and at the open grave father used the opportunity of speaking to the white men of the great separation day. He asked them on which side they would stand, and showed them the importance of being ready for death. Young Mr. H—-preached the Gospel to the natives, and all were deeply touched, many eyes being wet with tears. Stuart loved the Akamba, and they all loved him. His remains were buried near to a native pathway, where they might all see the memorial stones that we hope to raise above the spot, and be reminded of his pure, loving, self-sacrificing life.
Now I can say no more; just let us yield our all to Jesus. It won't be long before you and I will see Him too. Our days are soon spent and gone. One of us may be the next to follow. Oh! let us above all just witness for Jesus! Let us tell out His salvation, until we see His face!
Eva.
Sad indeed were our hearts as we turned once more to the work the Lord had set before us, and more especially to my husband the loss had been a great blow, since Stuart had been his chief companion, in all the work that had been undertaken; but since the abiding and strengthening presence of Christ was all the nearer to each one of us, we could say with Job, "The Lord gave, and the Lord had taken away, blessed be the Name of the Lord." Only five short months had elapsed since full of health and of hope Stuart had landed there to fulfill his Master's commands, and though God in His infinite love and mercy called him away so soon, yet we praise Him that in his death, as in his life, Christ was magnified.
As, after six months' waiting, we had been unable to obtain from the Government a plot in the native reserve for a Mission Station, we clearly saw the Lord's hand in the chief's request of the previous month to settle near him; moreover, the district was then just about to be opened up. In course of time a plot of land was obtained, and it was with thankful hearts that we made camp on the N’gelani hills. Our short journey was not, however, without difficulties, the place to which we were bound was infested with buffalo, rhino, lions, etc., and fear seemed to come upon the men that were to accompany us.
Ox wagons were obtained from neighboring farms, and all our supplies were securely packed on them. We had not, however, gone a mile before one wagon, in crossing a small gulley, was upset, and all its contents poured on the ground; such interruptions are no strangers to East African travel, and we consoled our hearts in patience until all was loaded again, and the oxen moved forward to the shouts of the drivers, who would urge on each ox by shouting its name, and bringing down the whip on the backs of any that failed to respond. When well trained, they rarely need anything beyond a call, for every working ox knows its name. One native only, our faithful cook named Kasbi, started out with us. We were joined en route by an Mkikuyu who was traveling that way and chose to go with us. After a long walk across the plain and many stops, we arrived at our goal shortly before nightfall. Once more we pitched tents after selecting a site near a spring of water. The next morning the ox wagons departed and we set about the work of establishing a home.
The chief, who had been influential in bringing us over, aided us greatly, by sending us men and women to bring materials for the house. The women obtained grass which was rank and long, up to six feet long; and the men went to the forest and to the riverbanks to cut and carry big poles and saplings for the framework of the house. My husband was very busy overseeing the work, but great opportunities of witnessing to those men and women of the saving power of Christ were not lost sight of. Day after day he would gather them together, and they would listen with rapt attention. One heart at least, that of Kasbi, the cook, found its peace in Christ.
The dry season was drawing to a close, and the long grass was now scorched and brown; the house was nearing completion after six weeks' labor, when one morning down in the valley, a mile or two below the house, a grass fire was seen. We had no misapprehension, however, as several small streams interposed between us and it, but the following account, written at the time by my husband to a friend, outlines in detail the outcome of that fire:
—After about six weeks of strenuous labor, during which time our eighty workers had increased to about one hundred, the desert was beginning to blossom as the rose. At midday resting hour we had some blessed meetings with these natives, whom we bad never met before. It was a moving sight to see the show of hands when they were asked who was willing to give his heart to the wonderful Savior of whom they had heard. During the course of the building we had several narrow escapes from bush fires which had raged in the vicinity, and at times were extinguished only with the greatest difficulty; indeed, all our men were engaged in beating the line of fire with leafy branches during the hours of the night, when the heavy dews considerably aided their efforts. Seeing the great danger in which we stood from conflagrations, we had a safety belt of fifteen feet wide cut round the entire encampment.
Six days ago, however, at noon, when the thermometer stood at its highest, and a strong and scorching wind was blowing, we were alarmed to find a devastating fire rushing rapidly towards our camp. All our men were called from their work, and a dash was made for the safety belt, while a number were sent for buckets of water, and others to cut down branches of green trees. On came the driving volume of flame, and in a few minutes it reached the spot where our terrified men had stood. On its near approach hope died within them, and they fled from their post, and no wonder, for the tongues of flame were being carried along by the wind well nigh a dozen yards ahead of the body of fire. These forerunning gushes of streaming flame leaped the circular belt of clear ground, and in a minute the two houses, which had cost so much labor to erect, and which were completely thatched with grass, were, together with our tents and stores, blazing towers of destruction. It was with some difficulty that Mrs. Watt and my daughter were brought out of the line of names to a place of refuge, where a previous fire had already passed over, and where we had just finished to erect the framework of a house intended for a training school.
From this place we watched the burning heap, where all our earthly possessions were being burned to ashes. We, ourselves, had escaped with the skin of our teeth. The few garments in which we stood were the worst we had possessed. All else was gone-houses, tents, camping requisites, implements, books, papers, letters, food, and clothing, and all the priceless records of a long and happy family life turned to ashes. There we stood in the bush, homeless, tentless, foodless, indeed almost bootless, without a bed to lie on, or a blanket to cover us from the cold of the night. Mrs. Watt almost collapsed when she realized the terrible position in which we had been placed, but after some hesitation we stood up and sang, "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow." The natives, I think, thought we bad gone mad, but after a few minutes we gathered them all together and told them that God had given and God had taken away, and He was to be praised in everything, since He knew what was beat for us. We hastily got a few bundles of grass put on one side of the house, as there were signs of rain approaching, and ere darkness came on, the first rains of our October and November rainy season had fallen. We lay down on some grass in one corner of the building, but not to sleep, for the shock of the day had been too great, and there were pangs of hunger in evidence, not having partaken of anything since seven o'clock that morning.
The next day the natives kindly brought us a little food, but it was so filthy that sheer exhaustion forced us to eat it. Thank God, our health has been sustained, save for slight fever due to a chill. Our hearts were encouraged when, a few hours after the fire, we saw a young boy of about thirteen years of age standing by us with tears in his eyes. He was one of those who had been converted to God at the last camp, where our son died, and he had left his home and followed us alone, over an uninhabited and dangerous plain, so that he might learn a little more of the Savior who had brought peace and light into his dark and troubled heart. The first thing he did was to pick up, and bring to us, out of a partially burnt book, an almanac, on which were printed two messages that spoke to us consolation and hope, "All things Work together for good to them that love God," and "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof." With God's help we shall go on with the work just as usual, and during the rains shall remain in the schoolroom which we are hastily completing.—
At this time our neighbor, a Scotsman, was a great help to us, as indeed he was later when in direr circumstances. We possessed no clothes except those we stood in when we fled from the flames, and we gladly took advantage of his offer to obtain for us some necessaries from Nairobi, which was about fifty miles away. The natives, too, whose hearts had been drawn out by the hardships into which we were thus plunged, were diligent in their attentions, and they exerted every effort in speeding up forward the building of the partially-erected hut. Many of them offered food from their gardens and supplies, and the chief, Ntheketha, sent a sheep for our empty storeroom, while Kasbi, our cook, himself set to and improvised a table made of palm-ribs.
After some time other huts were built for use as kitchen and dining-room, a new tent was procured from London, and again a start was made to build a house. The ashes of the old building were cleared away, but we were led to employ masons of the Baganda tribe, and to put up a substantial stone building with corrugated iron roof, which would be more or less fireproof. Some progress was made in the cultivation of a garden also, but the wild game that abounded, finding it unfenced, used nightly to ravage it, despite traps set for them in their tracks through the grass. Occasionally we would be awakened at night by the cry of some animal who, less cautious than its fellows, had been snared. The rate at which the quarrying and dressing of the stone for the house was carried on called for some patience on our part, though it was wonderful indeed that in the short space of fifteen years these comparatively skilled workmen had been evolved out of the raw material of native tribesmen through the instruction of the industrial mission schools in Uganda. Nevertheless daily and hourly supervision of the work was necessary, as our masons were in no hurry, their motto probably being "Never do today what you can safely put off till tomorrow!" Months passed, the days of which were fully busy with work in house and field, and amongst the villages; many were the happy times of witness amongst big crowds of men, some of whom had come from the neighboring Kikuyu tribe to work for us.
Early in April, however, I myself got malarial fever, and before long my husband also was attacked; my daughter Eva, was alone with us for some time, and went through terrible nervous and physical tension whilst she nursed us night and day, both lying at the point of death. She wrote the following account to a sister in England:
My Darling C....
3rd May 1914—,
I was sorry that I could not write a letter to each one of you, but my time was far too much occupied in nursing mother. I wish I could have had you by me when dear father was called home to his reward, for you would have been a great comfort and strength to me, yet my Savior upheld me through all the sorrow and trial of parting, and enabled me, for mother’s sake, to keep back the fast-flowing tears. On Friday mother took ill with fever, and the next Monday father was laid low with it too; they gradually got worse and worse, till I was absolutely worn out nursing them, for I could get very few hours' sleep, and no time at all to sit down to meals. I generally carried a crust of bread in the pocket of my pinafore, and took a scrap every now and then whilst tending to them. Sometimes I could hardly help crying with utter exhaustion. I sent for a Scottish settler living not far from here to come and sit with father and mother at night. "Day by day I saw father and mother getting worse; dear daddy could hardly get breathe when the fever was high, and he couldn't eat anything. At first the fever returned regularly every forty-eight hours, but gradually the attacks became more frequent and more sharp, until during the last three days of father's life he was practically in fever all the time, accompanied by delirium and unconsciousness.
During those critical days we had with us a lady missionary, Mrs Rampley, who was a great help and very good to father; but God's own loving hand was over our daddy, and His voice was calling him to glory. We did not realize he was going until midday, Saturday, when Mr. Rampley came, and Mrs. Rampley went back to her station; so we prayed and prayed with Mr. Rampley that God might spare our dear father to us, and then while I was kneeling on the rough floor of our shed beside mother we were led to give him willingly to Jesus should the summons come. We know that he would be much better off in Heaven, for he had been craving to go ever since Stuart died, and we would not have kept him here in the struggle when the Master wanted to crown him in glory, hard as it was to make the sacrifice. At seven o'clock that night, 25th April, 1914, father closed his eyes in sleep, from which he awakened to find himself in everlasting morning. Poor mother was too weak and frail to bear the news without injury to her body, but she asked me to tell you all that God's wondrous grace has been so sufficient for her that Christ has not only "wiped the tears from her eyes," but has given her peaceful comfort. Last Sunday morning Mr. Rampley and Mr. Anderson made a coffin from some old packing cases, and there laid the body so familiar and dear to us. Never before has death seemed such a natural thing to me-never before did I realize what a tiny step there is between this life and the next. It was a pouring wet Sunday, and at three o'clock we left mother in the little hut and went down with the coffin, which was carried by four natives, to the place where the body was to be laid to rest. We entered a clump of dark green forest trees, under which the grass ran six feet high. The rain was pelting down in torrents, and the undergrowth soaking with water, but we gathered a few natives around us, and I spoke to them on the uncertainty of life, and the necessity of being always ready to meet the Savior who died for them. Then Mr. Rampley read a few verses, and the body was lowered into the earth, there in the bush to await the trumpet of God.
Eva
I, myself, was spared the strain and anxiety of watching over that dear life in its last moments, and when I recovered enough to realize all, I was, despite the grief and unutterable loss, deeply thankful to God that my husband had been taken from all sorrow and suffering into the presence of the Master he loved and served so well. I wish in closing this record to bear a tribute to the life of self-sacrifice and love that was his from the time he first took Christ as his own. His chief aim was ever to extend the Kingdom of Christ, and to impress on every soul with whom he was brought into contact the absolute necessity of a living faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. To his children he seldom wrote without urging that they should witness and live for Him, by whose blood they had been redeemed, and his loving prayers for each child were answered by a faithful God inasmuch as each one of them were brought, while still fairly young, to a personal knowledge of the Lord Jesus as their own Savior and Redeemer.
The following extracts I would give from his letters to my children, to show how much it was upon his mind and heart that they should serve at all times the Master whom he served:
May this term fit you for your life work as no other term has done May Jesus' honor and glory be your chief aim, and may all the education you get be acquired so that you may be able to serve Him more effectually during the short life that lies before you. At the longest it is very short. We come up as a flower and. are given an opportunity to bloom and cast forth fragrance for our God, and then we are done and garnered into the Home above.
Just act as Christ would act, but never be vexed, never have care, cast all your care upon your blessed Savior, just lean, lean, lean upon Him, so as to be able to say, "All my care is on Jesus." I do not mind what any one says to me, I'll do the right in His name. Then, my love, go to your work with the happiness of Christ in your heart, loving all, and fearing none ...
I beseech you, my darling, to put all your difficulties in God's hand; seek His aid, not only morning, noon, and night, but hourly in the class, at play, everywhere, get into communion with your blessed Savior, and ask Him to help you to honor His Name and get more like Him in every thought and act ...
In later years he writes to one of them on the threshold of life:
God's dealings are all in love, deep love, unfailing love; trust Him, rest in Him, give Him your whole heart-reserve nothing. Let forms and ceremonies go to the winds. Seek to bring others to know your Jesus: commit your way to Him, and He will lead you, talk to Him about everything. He makes no mistakes. We make sad mistakes, and the greatest mistake of all is to go our own way and do our own will.
Not to his children alone would he appeal today, but through his life he would speak to every reader of these lines of the power of the love of Christ, that even in them might be realized that wonderful power that changed the persecuting Saul into the saintly Paul, and encouraged him, through countless hardships and sufferings to rejoice in Christ; while his heart, overburdened with the tale of that wondrous love, exclaimed, "Necessity is laid upon me, and woe is me if I preach not the Gospel!“
It passeth knowledge that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus Savior; yet this soul of mine
Would of Thy love in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth and everlasting strength
Know more and more.
It passeth praises that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus Savior; yet this heart of mine
Would sing that love so full, so rich, so free,
Which brings a rebel sinner such as me
Nigh unto God.
It passeth telling that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus Savior; yet these lips of mine
Would fain proclaim to sinners far and near
A love which can remove all guilty fear,
And love beget...
That is the secret of the power, the love begotten of His love-may it be yours!