The caravan proceeded on the following morning, and by noon they arrived at the Mission station of Butterworth, which was about one hundred and forty miles from the colonial boundaries. This station had only been settled about three years, but even in that short time it wore an air of civilisation strongly contrasted with the savage country around it. The Mission-house was little better than a large cottage, it is true, and the church a sort of barn; but it was surrounded by neat Caffre huts and gardens full of produce.
On the arrival of the caravan, Mr. S, the missionary, came out to meet the travellers, and to welcome them. He had been informed that they would call at the station, and bring some articles which had been sent for. It hardly need be said that, meeting at such a place, and in such a country, the parties soon became on intimate terms. Mr. S offered them beds and accommodation in his house, but our travellers refused; they were well satisfied with their own; and having unyoked their oxen, and turned them out to graze with those belonging to the station, they accepted the missionary’s invitation to join his repast.
Alexander having stated the object of his expedition requested the advice of Mr. S as to his further proceeding, and asked him whether it would not be advisable to see the Caffre king, and make him a present. This Mr. S strongly advised them to do; and to ask for a party of Caffres to accompany the caravan, which would not only insure them safety, but would prove in many respects very useful. All that would be necessary, would be to find them in food and to promise them a present, if they conducted themselves well. “You are aware,” continued he, “that Hinza’s domain only extends as far as the Bashee or St. John’s River, and you will have to proceed beyond that; but with some of the Caffre warriors you will have no difficulty, as the tribes further will not only fear your strength, but also the anger of Hinza, should they commit any depredation. But things, I regret to say, do not look very peaceable just now.”
“Indeed! what is the quarrel, and with whom?”
“Hinza has quarrelled with a powerful neighbouring chief of the name of Voosani, who reigns over the Tambookie tribes, about some cattle, which are the grand cause of quarrels in these countries, and both parties are preparing for war. But whether it will take place is doubtful, as they are both threatened with a more powerful enemy, and may probably be compelled to unite, in order to defend themselves.”
“And who may that be?”
“Quetoo, the chief of the Amaquibi, is in arms with a large force, and threatens the other tribes to the northward of us; if he conquers them, he will certainly come down here. He was formerly one of Chaka’s generals, and is, like him, renowned for slaughter. At present he is too far to the northward to interfere with you, but I should advise you to lose no time in effecting your mission; for should he advance, you will be compelled to retreat immediately. I had better send to Hinza to-morrow to let him know that strangers have come and wish to see him, that they may make him a present. That notice will bring him fast enough; not but that he well knows you are here, and has known that you have been in his country long ago.”
“It will be as well, after the information you have given us,” said Mr. Swinton.
“What is your opinion of the Caffres, Mr. S, now that you have resided so long with them?”
“They are, for heathens, a fine nation,—bold, frank, and, if anything is confided to them, scrupulously honest; but cattle-stealing is certainly not considered a crime among them, although it is punished as one. Speaking as a minister of the Gospel, I should say they are the most difficult nation to have anything to do with that it ever has been my lot to visit. They have no religion whatever; they have no idols; and no idea of the existence of a God. When I have talked to them about God, their reply is, ‘Where is he? show him to me.’”
“But have they no superstitions?”
“They believe in necromancy, and have their conjurers, who do much harm, and are our chief opponents, as we weaken their influence, and consequently their profits. If cattle are stolen, they are referred to. If a chief is sick, they are sent for to know who has bewitched him; they must of course mention some innocent person, who is sacrificed immediately. If the country is parched from want of rain, which it so frequently is, then the conjurers are in great demand: they are sent for to produce rain. If, after all their pretended mysteries, the rain does not fall so as to save their reputation, they give some plausible reason, generally ending, however, in the sacrifice of some innocent individual; and thus they go on, making excuses after excuses until the rain does fall, and they obtain all the credit of it. I need hardly say that these people are our greatest enemies.”
“Are you satisfied with the success which you have had?”
“Yes, I am, when I consider the difficulty to be surmounted. Nothing but the Divine assistance could have produced such effects as have already taken place. The chiefs are to a man opposed to us.”
“Why so?”
“Because Christianity strikes at the root of their sensuality; it was the same when it was first preached by our Divine Master. The riches of a Caffre consist not only in his cattle, but in the number of his wives, who are all his slaves. To tell them that polygamy is unlawful and wrong, is therefore almost as much as to tell them that it is not right to hold a large herd of cattle; and as the chiefs are of course the opulent of the nation, they oppose us. You observe in Caffre-land, as elsewhere, it is ‘hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ I have asked the chiefs why they will not come to church, and their reply has been, ‘The great word is calculated to lessen our pleasures and diminish the number of our wives; to this we can never consent.’”
“But still you say you have made some progress.”
“If I have, let it be ascribed to the Lord, and not to me and my otherwise useless endeavours; it must be His doing; and without His aid and assistance, the difficulties would have been insurmountable. It is for me only to bear in mind the scriptural injunction, ‘In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.’”
“But have they no idea whatever of a Supreme Being, either bad or good? have they no idea, as some of the African tribes have, of the devil?”
“None; and in their language they have no word to express the idea of the Deity; they swear by their kings of former days as great chiefs, but no more. Now if they had any religion whatever, you might, by pointing out to them the falsity and absurdity of that religion, and putting it in juxtaposition with revealed Truth, have some hold upon their minds; but we have not even that advantage.”
“But cannot you make an impression upon their minds by referring to the wonders of nature,—by asking them who made the sun and stars? Surely they might be induced to reflect by such a method.”
“I have tried it a hundred times, and they have laughed at me for my fables, as they have termed them. One of the chiefs told me to hold my tongue, that his people might not think me mad. The Scriptures, indeed, teach us that, without the aid of direct revelation, men are also without excuse if they fail to attain to a certain knowledge of the Deity,—‘even his eternal power and Godhead,’—by a devout contemplation of the visible world, which with all its wonders is spread out before them as an open volume. But beyond this, all knowledge of the origin or manner of creation is derived, not from the deductions of human reasoning, but from the Divine testimony; for it is expressly said, ‘Through faith we understand that the worlds were made by the word of God.’”
“Nevertheless you must admit that, among the civilised nations of Europe, many who deny revelation, and treat the Bible as a fable, acknowledge that the world must have been made by a Supreme Power.”
“My dear sir, many affect to deny the truth of revelation out of pride and folly, who still in their consciences cannot but believe it. Here, there being no belief in a Deity, they will not be persuaded that the world was made by one. Indeed we have much to contend with, and perhaps one of the greatest difficulties is in the translation of the Scriptures. I sit down with an interpreter who cannot read a single word, and with perhaps a most erroneous and imperfect knowledge of divine things. We open the sacred volume, and it is first translated into barbarous Dutch to the Caffre interpreter, who then has to tell us how that Dutch is to be put into the Caffre language. Now you may imagine what mistakes may arise. I have found out lately that I have been stating the very contrary to what I would have said. With this translation, I stand up to read a portion of the Word of God, for my interpreter cannot read, and hence any slight defect or change in a syllable may give altogether a different sense from what I desire to inculcate.”
“That must be indeed a great difficulty, and require a long residence and full acquaintance with the language to overcome.”
“And even then not overcome, for the language has no words to express abstract ideas; but the Lord works after his own way, and at his own season.”
“You do not then despair of success?”
“God forbid; I should be indeed a most unworthy servant of our Divine Master, if I so far distrusted his power. No; much good has been already done, as you will perceive when we meet to-morrow to perform Divine service; but there is much more to do, and, with His blessing, will in His own good time be perfected; but I have duties to attend to which call me away for the present; I shall therefore wish you good-night. At all events, the Mission has had one good effect: you are perfectly safe from Caffre violence and Caffre robbery. This homage is paid to it even by their king and chiefs.”
“I will say, that if we are only to judge by the little we have seen, the Mission appears to have done good,” observed the Major. “In the first place, we are no longer persecuted, as we have been during our journey, for presents; and, as you may observe, many of the Caffres about are clothed in European fashions, and those who have nothing but their national undress, I may call it, wear it as decently as they can.”
“I made the same observation,” said Alexander. “I am most anxious for to-morrow, as I wish to see how the Caffres behave; and really, when you consider all the difficulties which Mr. S has mentioned, it is wonderful that he and those who have embraced the same calling should persevere as they do.”
“My dear Wilmot,” replied Mr. Swinton, “a missionary, even of the most humble class, is a person of no ordinary mind; he does not rely upon himself or upon his own exertions,—he relies not upon others, or upon the assistance of this world; if he did, he would, as you say, soon abandon his task in despair. No; he is supported, he is encouraged, he is pressed on by faith—faith in Him who never deserts those who trust and believe in Him; he knows that, if it is His pleasure, the task will be easy, but at the same time that it must be at His own good time. Convinced of this, supported by this, encouraged by this, and venturing his life for this, he toils on, in full assurance that if he fails, another is to succeed,—that if he becomes a martyr, his blood will moisten the arid soil from which the future seed will spring. A missionary may be low in birth, low in education, as many are; but he must be a man of exalted mind,—what in any other pursuit we might term an enthusiast; and in this spreading of the Divine word, he merits respect for his fervour, his courage, and self-devotion; his willingness, if the Lord should so think fit, to accept the crown of martyrdom.”
“You are right, Swinton; nothing but what you have described could impel a man to pass a life of privation and danger among a savage race—leaving all, and following his Master in the true apostolic sense. Well, they will have their reward.”
“Yes, in heaven, Wilmot; not on earth,” replied Swinton.
The next day, being the Sabbath, with the assistance of Mahomed, who was valet as well as cook to the whole party, they divested themselves of their beards, which had not been touched for many days, and dressed themselves in more suitable apparel than their usual hunting costume,—a respect paid to the Sabbath by even the most worldly and most indifferent on religious points. The bell of the Mission church was tolled, and the natives were seen coming from all directions. Our party went in, and found Mr. S already there, and that seats had been provided for them. The numbers of natives who were assembled in the church were about 200, but many more were at the windows, and sitting by the open door. Many of them were clothed in some sort of European apparel; those who were not, drew their krosses close round them, so as to appear more covered. A hymn in the Caffre language was first sung, and then prayers, after which the Litany and responses; the Commandments were repeated in the same language. Mr. S then read a chapter in the Bible, and explained it to the assembly. Profound silence and quiet attention generally prevailed, although in some few instances there was mockery from those outside. Mr. S gave the blessing, and the service was ended.
“You have already done much,” observed Mr. Swinton. “I could hardly have believed that a concourse of savages could have been so attentive, and have behaved with such decorum.”
“It certainly is the most difficult point gained,—to command their attention, I mean,” replied Mr. S; “after that, time and patience, with the assistance of God, will effect the rest.”
“Do you think that there are many who, if I may use the term, feel their religion?”
“Yes, many; and prove it by travelling about and sowing the seed. There are many who not only are qualified so to do, but are incessantly labouring to bring their countrymen to God.”
“That must be very satisfactory to you.”
“It is; but what am I, and the few who labour with me, to the thousands and thousands who are here in darkness, and require our aid? There are now but three missions in all Caffre-land; and there is full employment for two hundred, if they could be established. But you must excuse me, I have to catechise the children, who are my most promising pupils. We will meet again in the evening, for I have to preach at a neighbouring village. Strange to say, many who doubt and waver will listen to me there; but they appear to think that there is some witchcraft in the Mission church, or else are afraid to acknowledge to their companions that they have been inside of it.”
The missionary then left them, and Alexander observed—
“I don’t know how you feel, but I assure you it has been a great pleasure to me to have found myself in this humble church, and hearing Divine service in this wild country.”
Both Swinton and Major Henderson expressed the same opinion.
“I am not afraid of being laughed at,” continued Alexander, “when I tell you that I think it most important, wherever we may be during our travels, to keep the Sabbath holy, by rest and reading the service.”
“With pleasure, as far as I am concerned, and I thank you for the proposal,” replied Swinton.
“And I am equally pleased that you have proposed it, Wilmot,” said Major Henderson; “even we may be of service to the good cause, if, as we pass through the land, the natives perceive that we respect the Sabbath as the missionary has requested them to do. We are white men, and considered by them as superior; our example, therefore, may do good.”
The evening was passed away very agreeably with Mr. S, who was inexhaustible in his anecdotes of the Caffres. He informed them that Hinza intended to call the next morning to receive his presents, and that he would be interpreter for them if they wished it.
Alexander, having thanked the missionary, said, “I think you mentioned, sir, that some of your brother missionaries have their wives with them. Since you have told us so much of the precarious tenure by which you hold your ground here, and I may add your lives, I think that the wives of the missionaries must have even more to encounter than their husbands.”
“You are right, sir,” replied the missionary, “there is no situation so trying, so perilous, and I may say, so weary to the mind and body, as that of a female missionary. She has to encounter the same perils and the same hardships as her husband, without having the strength of our sex to support them; and what is more painful than all, she is often left alone at the Mission-house, while her husband, who has left her, is proceeding on his duty, at the hourly peril of his life. There she is alone, and compelled to listen to all the reports and falsehoods which are circulated: at one moment she is told that her husband has been murdered; at another, that he is still alive. She has no means of hearing from him, as there is no communication through the country; thus is she left in this horrible state of suspense and anxiety, perhaps for many weeks. I have a letter from a brother missionary, which is in my writing-desk, wherein the case in point is well portrayed; I will get it, and read that portion to you.” Mr. S went to the other end of the room, and came back with a letter, from which he read as follows:—
“Having been detained among those distant tribes for nearly two months, report upon report had been circulated that the interpreters and guide, as well as myself, had all been murdered. On my arrival within forty miles of the station, I was informed that all doubt upon the subject had been removed by a party of natives who had passed the Mission station, and who pretended an acquaintance with all the particulars of the massacre. We had been travelling the whole day, and night had come on; I was most anxious to proceed, that I might relieve the mind of my dear wife, but the earnest remonstrances of my little party, who represented it as certain death to all of us to cross the plains, which were infested with lions and other savage beasts who were prowling in every direction, at length induced me to wait till the next day. But scarcely had day begun to dawn when I sallied forth, without either arms or guide, except a pocket compass, leaving my fellow-travellers to bring on the waggon as soon as they should arouse from their slumbers. This impatience had, however, well-nigh cost me my life; for having to wade through many miles of deep sand with a vertical sun over my head, I had not accomplished half the journey before my strength began to fail, and an indescribable thirst was induced. Nevertheless, I reached the Mission in safety, and with truly grateful feelings to the great Preserver of men. A few minutes prior to my arrival, the wife of one of my brother missionaries, little imagining that I was at hand and alive, had entered our dwelling, to apprise my wife of the latest intelligence, confirming all that had been said before respecting my fate, and to comfort her under the distressing dispensation. At this affecting crisis, while both were standing in the centre of the room, the one relating, the other weeping, I opened the door, bathed in perspiration, covered with dust, and in a state of complete exhaustion. ‘Oh, dear!’ cried our friend; ‘is it he—or is it his spirit?’ I must, my dear sir, leave to your imagination the scene which followed.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mr. S, folding up the letter, “a missionary’s wife, who fellows him into such scenes and such perils and privations, does, indeed, ‘cleave to her husband.’”
“Indeed she does,” replied Mr. Swinton; “but we will tax you no longer, my dear sir. Good-night.”