Africana; or, the heart of heathen Africa, Volume 2 (of 2)

Africana.

A. King And Co., Printers To The University.

Africana; Or, The Heart Of Heathen Africa.

BY THE REV. DUFF MACDONALD, M.A., B.D., LATE OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND MISSION, BLANTYRE, EAST CENTRAL AFRICA.

Vol. II.—Mission Life.

“Your vain conversation delivered by tradition from your fathers.”

LONDON: SIMPKIN MARSHALL & CO. EDINBURGH: JOHN MENZIES & CO. ABERDEEN: A. BROWN & CO. 1882.

[_All rights reserved._]

TO H. H. M. THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE GREATEST TRIALS PATIENTLY ENDURED FOR THE GOOD OF AFRICA.

Contents Of Vol. II.

Page

Chapter I.—Earlier Attempts To Christianise Central Africa.

Portuguese Discoveries. Early Missionaries—Santos, Carli, Merolla. Exploration. Communication between the East Coast and the West, 1-9

Chapter II.—The Universities’ Mission To Central Africa.

Livingstone and Slave Caravans. Battle with the Yao. The Missionaries pledge themselves. Native Treachery. Death of Bishop Mackenzie. Departure from Magomero. The Mission Policy condemned. The Field abandoned, 10-17

Chapter III.—Scotch Missions.

The Scottish Churches. Missions at Livingstonia and Blantyre. Relation between the Missions. Threatened War. Part taken by the Europeans, 18-25

Chapter IV.—Contact With Slavery.

The English Name. Slave Refugees. A Free Native Village. Asylum for the Slave. Civil Jurisdiction. Punishments, 26-37

Chapter V.—Pioneer Work.

Difficulties. Industrial Work. Religious Work Colonial Work. Efforts made to find a Clergyman. Unfair Position of Missionaries, 38-48

Chapter VI.—Quilimane To Blantyre.

Traces of early Missions. Detention at Quilimane. Journey to Mazaro. The Zambeze. The Chiri. Hippopotami, Lions, Elephants. The Native Kings, 49-72

Chapter VII.—The Mission Station.

The Houses. Fever. Artisans. Visitors. Neighbours. Interpreters. School, 73-93

Chapter VIII.—First Half.

Translating and Teaching. Visiting. Diary. Native Funeral. A Murder. The Blantyre Colony. Native Law. Insecurity, 94-114

Chapter IX.—Second Half.

New Year’s Day. Sewing Class. Housekeeping. School Work. Native Wars, 115-130

CHAPTER X.—SECOND HALF—_Continued_.

Pilfering. The Station set on Fire. Expedition to Mlanje. The Native Language. Scarcity. Trading Company. Field for Emigration, 131-147

Chapter XI.—Third Half.

Founding Zomba Mission. Lake Chirwa. Attack on the Mission Carriers. A Slave Raid. Anxiety, 148-177

Chapter XII.—Fourth Half.

Improvements. Increase of Pupils. Boarders. Negro Laziness. Preaching. Slavery, touching cases. Missionary Methods. Amateur Physicians. At Cherasulo and Zomba, 178-212

Chapter XIII.—Fifth Half.

Hermit Life. War. Mission Difficulties. Kidnapping. A Scare. Wild Animals. Amusements. Visit to Zomba. Young Elephants. Strange Refugees, 213-232

Chapter XIV.—Sixth Half.

Native Headmen. Translating. Imprisonments. A Slaving Chief. Sheep Stealing. Hopeful Pupils. Evangelical Work. The Colony again, 233-261

Chapter XV.—Seventh Half.

Start for Scotland. “I wish to go with you.” The Magololo. Sabbath on the River. War in Front. Suspense. Discomforts. A Native Crew. Magololo Harem. Anyasa Carriers, 262-287

Chapter XVI.—Conclusion.

Work resumed. Return of Pupils. Slavery. Second Departure. Game. Adventure with Hippopotamus. Matekenya’s people. Morumbala. Mazaro. Civil Jurisdiction again! The Slave Trade. Quilimane. Slaves in the land of their Captivity. Mission at Zanzibar. Missionary Prospects in the Interior, 288-315

Appendix.—Native Tales. 316-371

List Of Illustrations.

Vol. II.

Page

Magomero Mission, 10

Women of Mazaro, 61

Cutting up Hippopotamus for food, 64

The Blantyre Mission, 75

Native Female, 89

Mode of carrying in the hand, 121

The “Manse,” Blantyre, 178

The Basket Makers, Blantyre, 185

Anyasa Village on the Chiri, 271

A dangerous Hippopotamus, 290

Hippopotami at Home, 293

Night Halt on the River Bank, 296

The Kwagwa, 300

Chapter I.

Earlier Attempts To Christianise Central Africa.

The Ancients were not so ignorant about Africa as is often supposed. Ever since that old Phenician fleet went down the Red Sea and appeared, three years afterwards, in the Mediterranean, people knew that it was possible to sail round the Continent. It is said that the great Portuguese explorers derived an impulse from old maps which described Southern Africa as bounded by sea, but in any case the Portuguese are justly celebrated for their African discoveries, for all the knowledge on this subject that came from antiquity was in their days as faint as a half-forgotten dream.

No sooner had the Portuguese discovered places like the “Empire of Monomotopa” than they wanted to open them up. They sent their colonies and their armies; and the Church of Rome soon had missionaries among the native tribes.

At Sofala the new settlers asked permission to build a ‘warehouse,’ but built really a fortification. The native king becoming aware of this, tried to surprise and massacre them, but he failed, and they eventually became masters of the country.

Joano Dos Santos tells us in his history of Eastern Ethiopia how he left Portugal for Eastern Africa in 1586. His book contains several notes on the inhabitants. He questioned them about their belief in God, and inclines to think that at some period in the past they had been acquainted with ‘true religion’. He mentions in confirmation of this that they kept certain festivals with a strictness that might put Christians to shame. He found that they used ‘disagreeable herbs’ for an ordeal, and thinks it is possible that the Deity may interpose for the punishment of the guilty and the acquittal of the innocent. He expresses the view that the ordeal is founded on the Bible. The natives were fond of showing him their hunting powers and presenting him with what they caught.

In his book, which is more a history of the country than of mission work, he takes note of the barbarous customs of the people; he speaks of their beer-drinkings, which on special occasions would last for a week, during which no one knew his companion. He mentions a tribe near Tete where men, women, and children were kept in pens, and killed and eaten in succession by their barbarous imprisoners. Sometimes the natives would overpower the settlements of the Portuguese, who were then treated in the most horrifying manner.

The monks that were in the country served more as chaplains to the Portuguese armies than as missionaries to the heathen. The Portuguese were endeavouring to introduce some kind of order among the native tribes, and to develop the resources of the country especially in gold and silver mines. Hence the Portuguese soldiers appeared in this quarter following the crucifix and the arms of Portugal. A successful chief on the other side would don the ‘clerical dress’ of some monk that he had slain, and appear at the head of his clan with the chalice in one hand and a spear in the other. But in course of time the country became more settled, and the missionaries had numerous stations.

On the west coast the Portuguese missionaries seem to have laboured with great zeal. Father Carli (1666) has recorded his experiences of African life both in health and sickness, and many of his statements give a good idea of inconveniences to be met with in Africa even at the present day. He says, “My bed was against a wall which might well be called a nest of rats—they were so many and so large that they troubled me very much, running over me and biting my toes, which kept me from sleep. I caused my bed to be put in the middle of the room, but to no purpose, for those cursed creatures knew where to find me. I caused mats to be laid all about my bed for my blacks to lie on and defend me, not only against the rats, but any other wild creatures that might come. This precaution stood me in no stead, for there was no night but the rats disturbed me.” In his distress he applied to the Great Duke. “I took the freedom,” he says, “to acquaint the Great Duke with the trouble I had from the rats, and the stink of my blacks who had always some wild and disagreeable smell.” The Duke promised him an infallible cure, and sent him forthwith a tame monkey which lay at the foot of his bed. When the rats appeared the little monkey blew hard at them, two or three times, which made them run away, and its scent of musk corrected ‘the ill smell’ of the blacks. “The little monkey,” he adds, “kept my head and beard clean and combed, better than any of the blacks would have done; and to say the truth, it is easier to teach those monkeys than the blacks.”

There is perhaps a note of bitterness and disappointment in the last remark, but those that can understand the poor writer’s condition at the time will readily forgive it. For many weeks he had been watching by the death-bed of his companion, and afterwards was prostrated by extreme sickness himself. He had no one with him but the blacks, “who stole what they could and brought him when they thought of it, a porringer of broth”. One night his bed was attacked by a swarm of ants, and he had to be carried outside. Alarms of fire annoyed the poor invalid in the same way. Yet he was not forgetful of his commission from the Church in the way that he understood it. “Every day,” he says, “I baptised ten or twelve children; and not being able to sit up alone in my bed, was held up by two blacks, another holding the book, and another the basin.” The instruction given at baptism was by no means elaborate, even when the sacrament was administered to adults. Though but a short time in the country he had baptised an almost incredible number of natives. He says, as he looks back on the ‘great fatigues’ of his travels, that he would think his days well spent “if but one of 2700 children and youths he baptized obtained salvation through his ministry”. The good man, I have no doubt, had some misgivings as to whether the mere rite of baptism had permanently benefitted all that had received it. His stay in the country though brief would be long enough to raise doubts in his mind on that point. He does not speak hopefully of all the baptized. If he had been able to stay with them and teach them directly in their own tongue, this criticism would be much modified. Still the efforts of these missionaries would not be lost. They tried to do God’s work, and no one can have a higher motive. If there be anything in their methods that we now think inexpedient, let us learn the proper lesson, and let us remember the courage and zeal they manifested amidst their trials. Moreover, he does speak of a school where natives were taught the Portuguese language and received instruction in religion. Some of them, “though blacks,” showed considerable genius. The people, he tells us, did not trouble about laying up great stores of provisions; they scarce cared in the morning whether they should have anything at night. When they accompanied the Father on any of his journeys, sometimes he had nothing to give them because he had nothing for himself. Then they would take a piece of wood for a mattock and cut up the ground, and eat certain little white balls they found near the roots of the grass. He says, “I could not for the life of me swallow one of them, yet after such a wretched meal they would skip, dance, and laugh as if they had been at a feast”.

Merolla (1682) is one of the earliest to give a detailed account of mission work in Central Africa. He and his companions found themselves greatly opposed by wizards, who were often seized and sent to the Portuguese Governor who condemned them to death. As the native law itself possessed similar provisions, the people supported the missionaries in this measure and assisted in bringing wizards to justice. One of the laws introduced was that after a person was absolved by the missionary, he was freed from the consequences of any civil crime. “If God has pardoned, how can man pretend to find guilty?” They had established the Confessional, and many of them, like Luther, would try to make it a means of correcting the faults and informing the minds of their people.

They also had their troubles with slavery. A Cardinal wrote them ‘in the name of the sacred college complaining that the pernicious and abominable abuse of selling slaves was still continued among them, and asked them to use their power to remedy the said abuse’. They had little hope of checking the evil, because there was no trade in the country except ‘in slaves and ivory’; but they met together and petitioned the authorities ‘that heretics at least should be excluded from this merchandise more especially the English who made it their chief business to buy slaves here,’ and whose slaves were in danger of having the good principles instilled into them perverted by contact with Protestants! The authorities granted their petition, but opposed its operation. This brought the missionaries into serious collision with their governors, whom, however, they promptly excommunicated. When the struggle was over, the Governors wished to be restored to the church, and the penance prescribed for them is instructive, as showing how the Missionaries studied, and tried to remodel, the whole social life of their people. ‘The penance I imposed upon the Count was that he by his authority should oblige 300 of those that lived in unlawful wedlock to marry.’ The restored Count did even more, he ‘brought over 400 to the holy state of matrimony’. On the whole the Missionaries seem to have introduced greater purity into those regions. They could also do much to prevent wars and bloodshed. They had great influence with native rulers. Occasionally kings and their subjects came expressing a desire to be received into the Church in a body, but, alas, their motives were not above suspicion—before submitting to baptism, these converts insisted on making stipulations about ‘trade and commerce’; these stipulations the Missionaries assented to and tried to fulfil. On occasions of baptism, it was usual to bring presents to the Mission, and nothing can better show the discouragements that surrounded these men than the fact that on such occasions they were often presented with poisoned food. Merolla mentions seven Missionaries that were thus poisoned, and he himself had a narrow escape. They carried silver chalices, censers, &c., which were, in some instances, an inducement to take away their lives. They set themselves vigorously to oppose all ‘idolatry’—under which head they classed the native charms. They were not without apprehension of the power of sorcerers. Merolla mentions that an old witch lay down on the ground beside him, and began to scrape a hole in it. ‘At the sight of this,’ he says, ‘I immediately ordered my interpreter to begone, being more concerned for him than myself, for as a priest that had always trusted in God, I doubted not but to render her charms ineffectual as to myself.’ But he does not seem to have been quite at ease, and tried afterwards to avoid her. He explains that when they dig a hole thus in the ground they have the intention of bewitching a person to death. In estimating the native character, he says, ‘The Negroes are both a malicious and a subtle people, and I likewise must allow that they spend the most of their time in circumventing and deceiving, yet I cannot allow that because they are a stubborn soil they must be left uncultivated’. To say that they are always obstinate and perverse, and man-eaters is not to be made an objection against them, because our Saviour says, ‘Those that are well do not stand in need of a physician’. He contends that they really embrace Christianity.

The above quoted Missionaries, it will be perceived, all belonged to the Church of Rome, which was earliest at work in this quarter of Africa. Their experiences are valuable to this day, as showing the nature of the difficulties to be met, and suggesting also that Missionaries should study more and more closely the ideal of Mission Life contained in the Acts of the Apostles. While admitting that these men spent much of their time in instructing their converts, I still think that their work in the district of the Zambeze would have been more permanent if they had set themselves to teach these natives to read and to form an intelligent judgment on the message that was brought them. But printing presses were not easily procured in those days, and the Missionaries did ‘what they could’.

Before the time of Livingstone, the people of England knew little or nothing of Central Africa. But the Portuguese were fairly familiar with it. They had explorers as well as missionaries. Foremost among their explorers was Dr. Lacerda, who set out from the neighbourhood of Tete in July, 1798, and encountered quite his own share of the difficulties of African travel. His carriers left him in scores, and he was tortured by the fear that they would all desert “in a body”. He had little confidence in the tribes that he was to pass through; and his heart sank within him on finding that the natives with him hardly knew how to use their muskets. After a march of about three months, he died at Kazembe’s. Father Pinto kept a diary of the return journey, from which it appears that the party suffered much from sickness and enemies. They had to fight their way through the Awisa, and even after they were out of Awisa territory, every little chief contrived either to rob them or make them give up their goods as ‘presents’. They were so dispirited that the least threat made them yield. Tete was so far civilised by this time, that Pinto had a repugnance to appear on daylight except in ‘decent clerical attire’. In 1806, Baptista performed the journey across Africa between Angola and Tete, and soon after, a decree was issued from the Palace of Rio de Janeiro ordering the formation of a company of pedestrians to be employed in the communication between the East coast and the West.

Chapter II.

The Universities’ Mission.

One brilliant effort to introduce Christianity into this region of Africa was occasioned by the explorations of Dr. Livingstone. An excellent staff of clergy headed by Bishop Mackenzie was sent out by the English Universities. The party reached the scene of their work in July, 1861. They met with their first difficulties at Mbami, a short day’s march from the Shire. A large caravan of 84 slaves brought from Zomba came into this village, and Livingstone set the slaves free. Bishop Mackenzie wrote on this occasion ‘Livingstone is right to go with loaded guns and free the poor slaves; and there being so few English here, we are right, though clergymen and preachers of the gospel, to go with him’.

[Illustration: MISSIONARIES BUYING FOOD AT MAGOMERO.

(_See the Story of the Universities Mission by the Rev. H. Rowley._)]

They soon chose Magomero, on a stream called the Namasi, as the site of their first Mission station. The rescued slaves felt that they were safe only with their deliverers, and staid with them. The Wayao were now pressing into the country of the Anyasa, killing, enslaving, and spreading terror on all sides. On July 23rd, Dr. Livingstone, the Bishop, and nearly all the party went toward their encampment. Dr. Livingstone told them he was come for peace, but they did not believe him, and a fight ensued. The Yao thought they were more than a match for the Europeans and rushed forward, but after receiving a few well directed rifle shots they changed their minds. One Anyasa man was slain on the English side, and another wounded.

By the 14th of August they were fully committed to the policy of going against the Yao. The lesson this tribe had received already had not been sufficient, and great bodies of them were pillaging the Anyasa. The latter had applied to the Missionaries for aid, which, after three days’ deliberation, was promised them, on certain conditions. These conditions were:—

“I. That all the chiefs then present should solemnly promise that they would never buy or sell men, women, and children again.

II. That all captives found with the Yao should be perfectly free; that no chief or person should claim any one of them; but that all should have liberty to go to whom they liked, and where they liked.

III. That all chiefs present promise that they will unite to punish any chief who sells his own people, or the people of any other chief, and that each chief will punish any of his own people found guilty of buying or selling men, women, or children for slaves.

IV. That if any Portuguese or other foreign slavers came into the land they would drive them away, or at once let us know of their presence.”

The Missionaries clearly saw what was needed, but their theories were somewhat bold, at least for a beginning. Probably if they had been as many weeks in the country as they had been days, the idea of binding natives to promises of this nature would have struck them as a doubtful method. As I read these conditions I think of the poor Interpreter that had to translate them: the English idioms employed are not such as would facilitate his task. The conditions, as we might infallibly anticipate, were all received, and the English undertook to help the Anyasa against the Yao. As we might as infallibly anticipate from a slight knowledge of the natives, those that appeared with guns on the eventful day had “no powder,” and expected English ammunition. August the 14th must have been felt to be the beginning of a new era. All were up by four o’clock. There were eight Englishmen, besides the great multitude of Anyasa. The party marched straight on Zomba, where a great body of Yao lay. A parley was tried but failed. Then the battle began, and when the Yao found that the English guns carried so far, they were soon in retreat; perhaps about five of them were killed.

But the Yao tribe continued to give trouble. By 17th of October another march was made against them. Though the Anyasa guns took about an hour to load, the expedition was able to start at six in the morning. The majority of the mission staff were unwell, and in no fit state for such troubles. On the 18th the Mission force reached Lake Shirwa. They found, as the Bishop remarks, that they could rely on their Anyasa allies “only for cowardice and falsehood”. But the Wayao, instead of fighting, ran away after two shots were fired, and the party went on and burned their huts.

During all this time, and in spite of difficulties and interruption, the missionaries were labouring hard among the natives. On the 4th of November the Bishop writes, “We have plenty of room here for setting down six or eight missions”. On the 2nd of December another interruption occurred. Messrs. Proctor and Scudamore, two clergymen, went to see whether the Ruo could be made available for the transport of goods. They were received and treated civilly by Mwanasomba, a chief near Mlanje, who offered them a hut to sleep in all night. His plan was to burn this hut at midnight, kill the missionaries, and then take possession of their goods. The treachery was fortunately discovered, but it was with difficulty that the party made their escape.

On 31st December “it was arranged that they should start very early, so as to get to Mwanasomba before people were awake”. “They were not going in private revenge, but to free the captives and punish the robber and would-be murderer in God’s name. They had the good word and the approval of the chiefs around.” When they were about half-an-hour from the village they met Mwanasomba and his people who called out “Stand still, do not come on,” but when it was perceived that the party was well armed and contained many Englishmen Mwanasomba’s people ran away. The natives with the English tried to catch some of the opposite party for a consultation, but failed. The English party then pressed on to the village and set the huts on fire. They recovered some of their goods, and found a number of sheep, goats, and ducks, which would be a great temptation to the natives that were with them. As they were making their way through some reeds on their return, they were fired on. Two of their natives were wounded; one afterwards died. The Bishop says, “We had vindicated the English name, and had shown in this neighbourhood that it is not safe to attack an Englishman: and I hope the lesson may not be thrown away on these people”.

On the 31st of January, 1862, Bishop Mackenzie died. He had been little more than half-a-year on the Shire Highlands, but he had fully faced all the difficulties and trials of mission life there. A month before his death he wrote, “I have much at times to depress me; more than ever I had. But I expected it, and must not complain. I should not mind discouragement among the heathen, but it is among our Cape Town men.” His death was a great blow to the Mission. Still the Mission was strong in its band of clergy, and they had one medical man; but war and famine desolated the country, they had the greatest difficulty and anxiety in getting food, sickness was ever among them, and death called many of them away. The Rev. Mr. Burrup, a strong young man, came into the country to die: he was buried at Magomero.

In a short time the Station at Magomero was abandoned. A letter of Dr. James Stewart, now of Lovedale, written in 1862, states that there was a stampede at the end. “The Yao tribe had been ravaging the country round about, and had come within a few miles of the Station, which was threatened. Then a precipitate retreat was made with nearly all their goods and chattels down to the River Shire.” Both Dr. Livingstone and Dr. Stewart thought the Mission had lost all “prestige”. I quote this merely to illustrate the atmosphere in which the Missionaries lived. Everywhere was war, and they may have felt to some extent unsettled. But they had now been about a year in the country; they had found plenty of work to do in trying to acquire the language, &c., and in proportion as they were busy these scares would not so much affect them. But no doubt the danger was great, and as they were suffering from fever they would feel it all the more. The Anyasa were ever asking their aid, but they ‘determined to go and fight for them no more,’ and as they did not consider Magomero a healthy site they settled on the banks of the Shire. This was an advantage for communication, but I fear they had by no means found a healthier spot. The removal took place about May; on 1st January, 1863, the Rev. Mr. Scudamore died; and in a short time Mr. Dickinson, the surgeon, was in a grave beside him. One of their greatest trials was want of food, which rendered their position almost desperate. The Mission never returned to the Shire Highlands again, although some members like the Rev. Horace Waller were much in favour of doing so, and this course would have likely been pursued if the Mission had continued in the country. But just as all their troubles seem to have been overcome they withdrew. Most of the survivors were so reduced by sickness that it was necessary for them to return home if they would save their lives.

One of their great difficulties had been to get provisions. Large supplies were sent from England, but scarcely anything reached them, as their stores were plundered by the way. Many of the deaths might have been prevented by proper food. It happened at the same time, that there was a great famine in the country, and it was difficult to get food for the poor people that came under their protection. One sentence from Mr. Rowley will describe this. “War and famine,” he says, “had done their work, and ninety per cent of the Anyasa were dead; save in our immediate neighbourhood, the land was a desolation.”

Their troubles with the natives had involved them in misunderstanding with the Church at home. To quote again from Mr. Rowley:—“The news from home, informed us of the condemnation of our policy against the Yao, by some of our friends at Oxford. This did not come to us officially, for the committee simply expressed confidence in us individually and collectively. I do not think any of us were surprised that our policy had been condemned, seeing the men who condemned it, did not understand the causes leading us to adopt it, and the motives actuating us. We were not angry; but we were thankful that the Bishop and Scudamore were removed from the pain, which the manner of some in condemning, would have given them.”

In 1863, Livingstone refers to the famine and death caused by the slave trade, and writes, “I have been visiting Bishop Mackenzie’s grave. At first, I thought him wrong in fighting, but do not think so now.” Bishop Mackenzie’s successor considered the country too unsettled for continuing the Mission. For about twelve years, nothing further was attempted for this unhappy land.

Chapter III.

Scotch Missions.

In the days of the Magomero Mission the Free Church of Scotland had thought of Africa, and had sent out Dr. Stewart to see the country. But at that time matters were very discouraging: the difficulties of Mission work had been clearly demonstrated, besides it would have been an invidious thing for another Church to send its missionaries into the very spot then abandoned by the Church of England. Still, many Christians would think of these heathen, and when Livingstone’s death seemed to call his countrymen to their duty, the Church of Scotland and the Free Church awoke to a feeling of their obligation to send the Gospel to Africa.

The first to move in the matter was the Rev. Dr. MacRae of Hawick, who began to collect funds for a Central African Mission in connection with the Church of Scotland, and asked Mr. Young, R.N., to lead the expedition. In a short time the Free Church also entered heartily into the idea of sending a Mission to Central Africa, and appealing to certain liberal and wealthy members, soon secured the necessary funds, and applied also to Mr. Young. The naval officer made the sensible suggestion that a sort of Scotch National Mission should be tried, but this idea was not entertained. Dr. MacRae had not yet collected the necessary funds, and when the Free Church party started, all he could do was to send out one agent along with it.

In April, 1875, Mr. Henderson, the pioneer engaged by the Church of Scotland to go to Lake Nyassa, was introduced to the Foreign Committee by Dr. MacRae, who then addressed him in these words:—“You will be placed in circumstances in which you will feel that you are an exile from home, and separate from your brethren. In the path of duty in that far land you will encounter difficulties, privations, and hazards, which it will require no ordinary courage and patience to sustain and conquer; and you will be brought into contact with scenes most revolting to the sentiments of enlightened nature.”

On arriving in Africa the Free Church missionaries pressed on to Lake Nyassa, and settled at a station which they called Livingstonia. Mr. Henderson started from this Lake and passed down by Zomba till he reached Ndilande, near which he chose a station, which was named Blantyre, after Livingstone’s birthplace.

Other agents for the Blantyre settlement were selected in the course of the following year, when the Directors appointed a medical missionary, Dr. Macklin, and five artisans. Among the latter Mr. John Buchanan was enrolled as gardener. The purpose before the mind of the Church is well explained in its _Missionary Record_ as follows:—

“The Mission is industrial and evangelical, designed to be a nucleus of advancing centres of Christian life and civilisation to the Nyassa and surrounding region. It is the first mission of the Church of Scotland to the continent of Africa, her first contribution of Christian love to the people who have been for ages the miserable victims of blood and violence. It is the first step which she has taken to make some reparation to the African people for the unnumbered wrongs which our forerunners perpetrated upon them.” “It was observed with surprise and regret that there were no ordained ministers among the party, but the Directors hoped in the course of a year to send out at least one clergyman and two or three more artisans and teachers.”

On 16th May, 1876, at a meeting held in Edinburgh, this party were commended to the care of the Almighty. On 16th June, they reached Capetown, and about a week later, they found themselves at the ultimate limits of civilisation; and after they had travelled as far as they could by the ordinary mail steamers, they chartered a Swedish vessel called the Ansgarius. On 9th August, they reached Quilimane. Mr. Henderson, who had gone to wait for them at the mouth of the Zambeze, now received a message requesting him to meet them at Mazaro, which the party reached in the beginning of September. Starting from Mazaro on 16th September, they arrived at Makukani’s on 7th October, after a long journey, during which they were never all free from fever. It was 23rd October before they reached the spot chosen for the Mission. At Blantyre there was a native village, but as its chief had been recently killed by Makukani, all the houses were deserted (41).

By the time they reached their destination some had suffered severely, and were unable to walk. In those days a large part of each man’s time was spent in bed. In this condition they were cut off from all communication with their friends. No letters could be sent home. One of their first opportunities for writing was in April, 1877, when Mr. Henderson left the Mission.

It was a long time before the party regained health; but about the middle of 1877, we find letters reporting considerable progress. One of these says:—“Mr. Stewart has succeeded in making out a good line for a water course. This will bring the water into the station, and serve for irrigation as well. A large stream is not necessary just now, but Mr. Stewart says twenty cubic feet per minute, or even thirty, can be got. This work, however, will not be begun till the houses are finished.” Mr. Stewart was a civil engineer who, instead of spending his Indian furlough in rest, went and engaged in mission work in Africa.

Mr. Buchanan, writing in August, 1877, says:—“Within the last two months Blantyre has got a very different appearance from what it formerly had. Our station is laid out in the form of a square—100 yards long and 55 yards broad. A road 11 feet wide goes down both sides, and across both ends. In the centre is a circle of 32 feet diameter. A road 12 feet wide goes down the centre. From the centre, at the east end, two roads take their start. One 400 yards long, and 3 yards broad, runs in a south-easterly direction to the stream where we get our water. Another 1000 yards long, and 4 yards broad, leads to the north-east in the direction of Malunga’s village; the direction also to Pimbé. Another road, 700 yards long, and 4 yards wide, leaves the centre at the west end, and leads in the direction of Makukani’s and the Shiré. A fourth road from the south side goes to the rice ground. 60 yards from the starting-point of the first two roads is one crossing from the one to the other, and forming the base of a triangle. In the centre of this triangle is a mound 20 feet in diameter, in which at the proper season I shall plant a few of the Eucalyptus globulus. This angle is all I intend for a flower-garden, along with some small spots besides these. Should flowers do well this first season, it can be easily extended in the following. On both sides of the square houses are being built. Plans for eight are laid out, three are already built. They are after what is called the Indian bungalow style; their dimensions are 30 feet by 20, with a veranda of 5 feet all round. From the level of the floor to the wall-plate is 10 feet, the perpendicular of the couples 7 feet 6 inches. The frame is put up of posts from 4 inches diameter, 45 inches apart; bamboo is tied on horizontally 8 inches apart; sides, end, and roof are thatched with grass. The walls are plastered outside and inside with mud, and finished with a whitewashing of lime. This is got by burning shells, which the natives gather and bring for sale.”

_Relations between the Two Missions._—Although the Church of Scotland and the Free Church have differences at home, the missionaries sent to Africa felt it to be their interest, as well as their duty, to overlook such quarrels. The Missions needed each other’s assistance in various ways, and such assistance was freely given. Those upon the spot saw that the labours of both Missions were in the same cause. It takes a long time to lay the simple Gospel message before the natives in their own tongue. If a minister were to begin by preaching to these poor negroes about theories that separate good Christians at home, he would be a miserable trifler. We believe that one missionary got a hint from Scotland about “distinctive principles,” but he replied that he could not find a native word to express these differences, and that he did not care to invent one.

The Missions joined together in the transport of provisions and the making of roads. On many occasions the absence of one settlement would have been a terrible calamity to the other. The missionaries were dependent on supplies received from home. After they ordered anything, a whole year would elapse before they received it, and occasionally a steamer would sink with their goods. But for mutual help, the missionaries would have been often reduced to extremities. The Church of Scotland had the healthier station, and the Free Church men often went there to recruit. At Blantyre it was possible to do a great deal of work, both mental and physical, without suffering; but at Livingstonia, Europeans had to be exceedingly careful. Fever was ever lurking, ready to make them a prey. They had to be on the shores of the Lake for easy communication, but though they there enjoyed a beautiful view of the Nyassa, they missed the bracing influence of the mountainous regions.

_Threatened War._—On July 16th, 1877, there were alarming rumours of an incursion of the Mangoni (Maviti). It was stated that they had crossed the Chiri; and the natives from all parts were fleeing to the hills in great terror.

This country had been the scene of a constant succession of wars. In the time of the Magomero Mission, the Yao drove the Anyasa out of the Blantyre region. After this the Anyasa, under the Magololo, were continually making small attacks on the Yao, while the latter were constantly retaliating. Then the Mangoni appeared on the scene, and attacked both the Yao and the Anyasa. They killed all that made any resistance, and captured such as could not escape. The Yao ascended their mountains, the Anyasa fled to islands in the Chiri, while all their food and property fell into the hands of the Mangoni. The Yao suffered most. Many of them were surprised and killed, and those that escaped could only look down with sad hearts from the tops of mountains upon the invaders, who had possession of their wives and children, and feasted upon their crops. It was

“The good old rule, the simple plan, That he should take who has the power, That he should keep who can.”

Although the Yao had but lately profited by the maxim, it was none the less bitter when applied to themselves.

When the Mangoni had consumed all the crops they withdrew. The Yao then came down from their fastnesses and sowed another crop, but as soon as it became valuable, the Mangoni appeared again. Others might sow, but they would reap. This process was carried on year after year. Some of the Mangoni settled for a short time on the Blantyre side of the Chiri. Yao chiefs were quite dispirited. But while matters were at the darkest, the missionaries appeared on the scene. A Yao headman said to me, “The English are very clever. We could not tell them that we were all dying—that the Mangoni were killing us, but they knew themselves and came to help us.”

On July 23rd, the missionaries held a meeting with Kapeni and Malunga, regarding the defence of the district, and the day after they began to load cartridges with slugs, and to make bricks for a mud fort. In all quarters of the country the natives seemed terribly alarmed. From distant Zomba there came an embassy to tell the Mission of the death of the former king or chief. From Kumpama and Mkanda messages also came, and it was clear that every native chief was eager to secure the friendship of the Mission at that crisis. It was an anxious time for the Europeans themselves. They thought it necessary to institute target practice. The Mangoni being a branch of the Zulus, were no contemptible foe. The danger happily passed away, the Mangoni returned without attacking a single village; the occurrence was attributed to the presence of the white men, and all the natives looked upon the Europeans as their protectors. From the time that the missionaries made their appearance, until now, the Mangoni have not come at their wonted season. “They were afraid to interfere with the friends of the white men.”

Chapter IV.

Contact With Slavery.

By and by not only oppressed tribes but oppressed individuals looked to the Missions for succour. In the interior the English name had long been associated with opposition to slavery. The natives regarded Livingstone and the members of the Universities’ Mission as the special friends of the slave. Such of them as had visited the coast had picked up information about English ships of war which were the terror of the slave-drivers.

_The Free Church._—As early as February, 1877, we find Dr. Stewart saying: “Livingstonia seems to have taken a start and begun to grow in one of the directions we specially wish it to grow—as an anti-slavery centre”. When the Mission party arrived, there were hardly any natives settled at Livingstonia. Soon many came seeking protection, and were received by the missionaries. It was proclaimed that any one that ran away to escape being sold would be received. The great slaving chiefs, as might be expected, would be against the Mission in this policy, but they took no hostile steps. It was seldom that owners inquired after refugees, and when they did they had to go away very crestfallen. They were told that refugees proved guilty of any crime would be given up, but that innocent men and women crying for English protection should not cry in vain. Dr. Stewart had the Fugitive Slave Circular before his mind, and recognised that many complications might arise, and yet he expressed his conviction that the missionaries could not do otherwise than they were doing.

_Church of Scotland._—In the same manner the Directors of the Blantyre Mission proclaimed in their Reports: “No Arab gangs will come near an Englishman, if they can help it. With them the English name is synonymous with destroyer of slavery. When Livingstone was at Nyassa, they fled from his neighbourhood and took to distant and circuitous paths to avoid meeting him. This guilt and terror on their part is contrasted with the confidence and reverence inspired by Englishmen in the breasts of the natives. We are assured that a Mission once established, they will settle around it, receive our instructions and our help, place themselves under our authority, and rise by order and Christian observance into the state of civilised communities. What is done on the coast, and at a vast expense (yet most righteously), by vessels of war, will be done here by Christian missions—with this difference, that in delivering the orphan, the outcast, and the captive, they will introduce them to a home life of security and freedom, will take them out of the low prison, and show them ‘the glorious liberty of the children of God’.”

An extract from a letter of Dr. Macklin’s, of 7th Dec., 1877, which was published in March, 1878, in the _Missionary Record_, will show that neither the Blantyre missionaries nor the Directors at home hesitated to espouse the cause of the slave:—“Some time ago there were two boys here supposed to be brothers: after they had been here some months their father came and took them home because they got no calico. Well, not a long time afterwards, one of them came back and told us he had run away, and wanted to stay with us; said he was not the man’s son, but a slave, and had been bought some years ago. He asked our protection, and I said, ‘You shall now stay with us, and no man can touch you’. Two days afterwards his father, as he called himself, came for him. I brought Evangeli out and confronted him with the man, and asked him the same questions which I had previously, and he gave the same answers. I then said to the man, ‘He is not your son, but a slave, and he has my protection, and is now free’. All this took place in public before a great many Yao men. The man said he did not wish to be an enemy, but that the boy was his. I told him we gave him his freedom and English protection.”

_A Free Native Village._—Mr. Stewart, writing from Blantyre in November, 1877, says:—“I must mention another very interesting and promising circumstance. We have a native village growing up near us. The first-comers were three or four families from the neighbourhood of the Cataracts, who, on account of the insecurity of their village from Mangoni raids, but without having been actually hunted from their homes, came here, and spontaneously put themselves under our protection. Land has been given them, and a site for their houses. They are required to build substantial square houses; the size adopted is 20 feet by 14 feet. Four such are now being erected by their unassisted labours. They have been joined by one or two families from this district. The men are well built and athletic, with open, smiling countenances. They and the women frequently attend our meetings. They are, I think, a good beginning of our future tenantry.” Of the school he says:—“It fluctuates in numbers, and has not grown as fast as might be wished. Parents cannot be induced to leave their boys here for long at one time. The boys are docile, and willing to attend; the difficulty is with the parents.” Soon the children of these refugees became the main hope of the school: while their parents attended the religious meetings and formed a congregation. The state of progress by March, 1878, is summed up in these words, where special emphasis is given to the position on slavery:—“Our Mission at Blantyre continues to prosper in its various operations; the natives are friendly, and are impressed with a sense of its value; the school is well attended; the area of cultivation has much increased, and Blantyre has become an asylum for the slave.”

In Dr. Macklin’s letter we find the following:—“We have three more slave refugees here at present, two women (one has a child) and a boy. The first one came nearly two months ago, having run away from her master because he abused her; no inquiries were made after her by any one. The second one—the boy—came about three weeks ago, he having run away on his being taken to join a gang of slaves from the Cherasulo district. A man came after him next day and said he was his son; but this was an evident falsehood, for the boy was not Yao at all. I dismissed farther hearing of the case for four days, until Mr. Stewart should return with the interpreter. But it seems after the boy had left the house the man had attempted to seize him, but the boy eluded him and ran back to the house, and the man after him; but my servant Ropa prevented him from getting hold of the boy. I ordered the man off the place, but he would not go, and continued to talk to me; at this I ordered Ropa to catch hold of him, but the man resisted; whereupon both Mapas and myself rushed at the man and disarmed him and sent him from the place. I need hardly say he did not return again. The third—the woman with the child—came three days afterwards, having escaped from the large gang. We learned that the gang was going to Nyungwi on the Zambeze. Accordingly, we determined to try and stop them; and so we sent a present of two blankets to the Magololo chief, Chiputula, asking him not to allow them to cross the Shiré, by refusing them canoes, but on no account to fight with them. It is a fortnight nearly since the woman came, and no one has come after her. You thus see that, in a measure, we are succouring the oppressed and setting the captive free. Would that we could as easily set them free from the bondage of sin and the darkness of ignorance!”

All the white men in the country disliked the system of slavery, and struggled against it. In this they were applauded by the Directors at home. They had no clergyman regularly at the station, and, although evangelistic work was not neglected, the secular side of the Mission was by far the more prominent. The Church of Scotland did not expect so much at first from the religious side of the Mission, as from the Industrial. It was felt, as in the days of Gregory the Great, that Mission work would move by “steps and not by leaps”. The cultivation of the soil was eagerly looked to, as a means of rendering the Mission self-supporting, and the missionaries were urged to acquire land. By May, 1878, we find Dr. Macklin writing—“There are evidences or indications that we are beginning to influence the natives for good, by our conduct towards them and by our example. We have now got five women and one boy, escaped from slavery, under our protection. Concerning the acquisition of land as our own, I may here state that I have succeeded in getting from the chief a large grant, of which much of the land is excellent. In consideration of this grant we must make some annual present to the chief.”

Besides espousing the cause of weakest, the Mission also commended itself by acts of kindness. Dr. Macklin writes with reference to a famine—“During the height of the distress I sent some hundredweights of grain from our own store to Katunga, one of the Magololo chiefs, who is a great friend of ours, and has supplied us with most of the sugar-cane we have.”

We conclude this chapter by extracts from a letter of Dr. Macklin’s, written in the end of March, 1878, which throws much light on the various aspects of the work.

“The Mission in its civil and social aspects is making reasonable and satisfactory progress. As an asylum for the poor, persecuted slave, Blantyre is becoming known and prized. We have now six fellow-creatures rescued from the lash of the slave driver, and miseries worse than death. And this in turn, prepares them for giving a ready reception to the free offers of the greater emancipation, salvation by grace through Jesus Christ our Lord. My present circumstances give a new emphasis to the old law of the city of refuge. Just think of the poor, fainting woman bearing her child, fleeing for her life, but sustained by the hope that if only she can reach the British flag, which already she sees fluttering in the evening breeze, her child shall live and herself be free.

“I think I told you in my last, that we were annoyed with some pilfering, but had not been able to bring the petty thefts home to any one. Recently, however, we have found that the thieves do not belong to our Africans, but to another tribe, namely, to Makukani’s people. Had we the benefits of a good Glasgow reporter, your attention might be arrested by some such heading as, ‘Daring, Exciting Chase, and Clever Capture’. The story is as follows:—On the morning of the 13th February last, about four o’clock, both Mapas and William Koyi were awakened by attempts being made to pull the blankets off them. Mapas recognising at once the position of affairs, waited for the arm being put in again at the window—nor had he long to wait; but in the darkness he failed to secure the arm, and only alarmed the thieves, who made off with the booty already secured, and well packed in two large bundles. Mapas instantly roused the others in that house—there are now eight houses—and gave chase. Koyi who waited to put on some clothes, saw another man coming from the line of the stores, where our white men, Walker and Fenwick, sleep. The thieves, observing that some one was approaching, threw down the bundles and ran. Koyi, being armed, threatened to fire on them if they did not stop, but on hearing this the thieves plunged into the bush and were lost to sight. William Koyi, being a man who can endure a great deal of comfort, now gave up the pursuit; but brave Mapas and Kumlomba, the headman of the village, who had been roused by the noise, knowing the thieves would try to strike the road at another point, pushed on to anticipate them, and were just in time to meet them face to face. On being challenged they again plunged into the bush, whereupon Mapas fired. The report of the gun brought us all to that point, and I, having posted sentinels at several points, led a small party into the bush for the purpose of scouring it thoroughly, but we came upon no man. In the meantime, Mapas had come upon the trail of one man, and had pursued him for a space of eight miles, and that, too, in his shirt and bare feet, through tall, wet grass and stumps. It was, indeed an exciting chase, the thief ran for dear life, Mapas for the glory of victory, and the good of our Colony. You will say he deserved to win, and he did win, and bring back the thief a prisoner. We are Britons, and we are fond of British pluck, but in what is this man’s blood and spirit inferior to our own? And surely there is good hope of the race which can furnish such men. The thief, when brought back, was called into ‘Court,’ got a trial, in which, according to the phraseology of Scotch forms, he emitted, admitted former thefts, and implicated his chief in a charge of reset and participation. This, in all probability was a false charge, and made in order to throw the shield of his chief’s protection over himself. I hope this part of his story is not true. In the afternoon, however, he was sentenced to get nine dozen lashes, and before all the people he got five dozen that day, and was then led to the stocks. Three days after, he received the remaining four dozen, but the flogging was nothing like the flogging which used to be for British sailors and soldiers. Some skin only came off on the second day. We kept him in all about a month, and then the people being all assembled, we made proclamation that, if after two days the prisoner should be found on the Yao territory, or on this side the Kabula river, the people were at liberty to kill him. Of course, this proclamation was made by the Yao headman. After this proclamation was made, the prisoner was escorted out of the Yao country by armed men. The other thief was never seen, and did not return home; neither, indeed, need our prisoner go back, for his people would kill him—probably on the old Spartan principle, not because he stole, but because he was so inexpert as to allow himself to be caught. The chief denies all knowledge of the thefts, and declared that we ought to have shot the man. Mr. Stewart spoke to him on the subject, and that is his statement; but it is not right to shoot the poor creatures; and if they would let us, we could show them a more excellent way; and I hope the day is not far, at all events, very far distant, when the law of the eighth commandment will reach further in Africa than the commands of any chief.

“The people among whom we live were delighted at the capture of the thief, and they came up to me and said proudly, ‘Now, you see it is not Yao people who steal your things; we are friends, it is the Anyasa who steal. They are thieves.’ This affair has undoubtedly been of use in clearing away those clouds of suspicion which had settled down, impairing our confidence and making all our intercourse less happy and enjoyable. Horses, I think, would give a great impulse to civilisation in this part of Africa, and, of course, would more than double man’s ability in every question of time and space. Will anybody bestow even one horse on the Mission, and make a fair trial of the horse in Eastern Africa? The cows we got are doing well. Senhor Nunes, of Quilimane, says a good horse could be brought from Port Elizabeth for £50 or £60—that includes all charges of conveyances. Do not some of your merchant princes spend that sum on a single party?

“I had almost omitted to state that the brave Mapas belongs to the Livingstonia Mission and Dr. Laws, and that we made him a present of £10 in all. What I may call the subscription sheet bore the following heading:—‘Testimonial to Mr. Mapas Ntintili, as a mark of personal respect and recognition of his perseverance and bravery on the morning of February 13th, 1878.’ His feet were so cut and torn with the long race, rough ground, and tree stumps concealed among the tall grass, that he was lame for several days. Hitherto we have had to carry our goods from the river to this place, but we expect the time will soon come when we will have a bullock waggon ‘trecking’ our goods from the rivers. Convey my thanks to the kind friends who, through Mr. Mackeith, have sent some things very valuable for working the Mission and attracting the natives; and assure them that Dr. Laws, of the Livingstonia Mission, shall have the free use of everything alternately with myself. Just now, he is here writing beside me, and the co-operation of the two Missions, as only different branches of one, is very pleasant, and I think very useful. Christianity ought to be presented as one thing—not many—as our Lord’s outer garment without seam, woven from the top throughout, all one piece. Our water course is now completed, and we have water flowing throughout our station, and channels are cut in several directions, enabling us to run water to our wheat, corn, rice, and maize fields, and to our terraces where our garden produce is raised. This supply of water is an unspeakable advantage. Our Cape gooseberries have done well, we have now an abundant supply of them, and also of French beans, lettuce, beetroot, tomatoes.

“Of all these and others we expect to have a supply all the year round, now that we can water the beds. Let me add one thing more. We have got upwards of fifty orange, lemon, and lime trees—young, of course, but all doing well, so that in three years we may be eating our own oranges. As for bananas, we have three or four hundred of them, many of which are already bearing fruit.”

Chapter V.

Pioneer Work And CIVIL Jurisdiction.

Pioneer work is slow, and many people grumble at this. Some imagine that pioneers are immediately to enter into houses built of stone and lime, having grapes hanging in clusters from the walls, and surrounded by lovely bowers amidst orange groves. These houses, they further expect, will be accessible by the easiest roads, while at every stage there will be an inn erected for the refreshment of travellers. If the pioneer do not find all these things ready-made, he would need a magic wand to call them into existence in the short time that such people allow him for the accomplishment of his work. In reality, the first settler is beset with difficulties at every step. Place a European in the centre of a tropical forest extending twenty miles each way, where no road has ever been made, tell him that within two years he must there erect a model station, and though he have several artisans to help him, his first idea will be that it would take the whole of that time to clear away the timber: at all events he will feel that his fruit harvest will not fill his bosom very soon. This is no fanciful supposition, for the pioneer may be placed in a much larger forest, and he soon realises that work at home and work in his new circumstances are quite different. After erecting some miserable shed for himself, he may wish to begin his task by making—say a wheel-barrow. This duty he assigns to the joiner, who sets to work, and for days upon days is occupied with that wheel-barrow. The superior thinks that he is trifling and begins to grumble.

“Why, I have known a carpenter at home make a barrow in a third of the time. What can you be about?”

“True, sir, but the carpenter at home gets all the wood properly cut up for him and well seasoned, and for wheels he has nothing to do, but——.”

“Still, if you reckon your time, that barrow has cost more than £20 already.”

“Yes, sir, but I had to go and cut down the trees and convey them up here. Then I had to saw them up and begin to cut out—”

As the practical man proceeds thus to enumerate the stages of his work, his missionary friend begins to fear that the victory over the forest will not be gained even so soon as he at first expected. Perhaps the saddest part of the experiment is to come. After the “barrow” is made it is of no use! Many early experiments end in this way. The learned critic at home exclaims, “Why should the blockhead want a barrow? If I were there, I would use the cattle and horses of the natives for beasts of burden!” But the critic has a great advantage over the hapless pioneer—it is so much easier to create cattle and horses in the imagination than in the African jungle.

_Religious Work._—Difficult as it is to be a Pioneer of Civilisation, it is still more so to be a Pioneer of Religion. Christians in Central Africa find it easier to make the forest a farm than to make the savage a Christian. These Europeans were confronted with the delicate and difficult problem of evangelising, and they most realised their powerlessness when Sunday came round. As the natives pressed about them on the day of rest, they felt in their hearts “we must do something”. But what could they do? Absolutely nothing. They had no interpreters. Unable to speak to the natives, they might try to show good feeling by looks and gestures, but after all, these appeared to the savage as nothing better than ridiculous grimaces. But they happened to have a musical box, and on a Sabbath afternoon, they judged it better to turn this on than to do nothing!

The Livingstonia Mission fortunately possessed interpreters, one of whom was ultimately lent to Blantyre. Still unless interpreters are educated, and understand something of Christianity, they cannot be relied on. They may assist a missionary in learning the language, but they will not do for preaching. On one occasion a European missionary of much experience was delivering an able, and as he thought, a solemn address to these natives through an interpreter, when all at once the whole audience burst into a fit of laughter. Everyone appreciated the joke intensely except the speaker himself. Now an accident like this may happen even where the interpreter is rendering most literally. Indeed if a clergyman were suddenly introduced into the heart of these tribes, able himself to speak their words, he would find that many vocables he used, have very different associations in their tongue from what they have in his own. In order to benefit the natives one must be able not merely to speak their words, but to understand their mode of thought.

_Civil Jurisdiction._—It would clearly be no light task for men to perform all these duties, even where left to work without interruption, and under a settled government. But the missionaries discovered that life and property were not so secure as in Britain, for soon they suffered much from thieves. They had good cause to be watchful, as if their clothes were all carried off, they had no chance of getting more for a whole year. In that remote land there were no clothiers and tailors, and through a successful theft, or a fire, a man might be reduced to the primitive fig leaves. A European superintending road-making at a distance from his colleagues, awoke one night to find that his wardrobe was—nothing to boast of!

The missionaries were bound to face the problems of dealing with thieves, and the method adopted has been described at the end of last chapter, in a letter which was published in full in the Scotch newspapers, and of which extracts were made in the Missionary Record of the Church of Scotland. On that occasion no one criticised the Mission or its Directors; but at a later period the method was entirely condemned. For myself, I was very much astonished the first time I was told that the Directors had sanctioned the practice. I thought it objectionable, not because I fancied that there was the least suspicion of cruelty or danger, but because I did not like to see it connected in the remotest way with Mission work. Still those that know the state of the country will not wonder that the Directors had assumed civil jurisdiction, sanctioned flogging, and asked certain agents to act as magistrates. In a letter which was sent out long after, for the special guidance of the missionaries, we found the words, “I do not see how you can possibly do without corporal punishment,[1] and I strongly advise it”. A person on the spot would see that the criminal thus got more lenient treatment than he would have received at the hand of his fellows. By the native law of the district, a thief puts himself beyond the pale of human rights, and becomes liable to be treated as a leopard. No sooner was that offender (page 34) taken than certain of the native workmen at Blantyre said, “Give him to us and we will kill him”. But the punishment of death for theft, though inflicted by African law, could never be countenanced by English missionaries. Still it may be said, might they not have thought of merely confining the criminal? They did think of this, and sometimes wondered how they could make the imprisonment proportionate to the offence. These were thefts, often of valuable property as compared with the native rate of wages, and if the thief were kept till he wrought even for half the value, he would not be liberated for years! Though this looks an absurd difficulty, yet it was discussed by some of these pioneers in a grave manner. Only they seem to have felt that imprisonment was hardly a punishment at all to the native. He has no fine susceptibilities, and if he had to do no work, to be housed and cared for by Europeans, would be the acme of enjoyment to him. In any case the real punishment of an imprisonment would fall upon the European jailor that attended the prisoner. In adopting the plan of flogging, I have no doubt all parties were fully persuaded that the criminal thus received a milder chastisement than he would have had from his own countrymen.

But strictly speaking the Mission (although this did not appear at the outset) was wrong in assuming that it had a right to inflict any punishment at all. The Agents that were instructed to act as Magistrates, had the general sanction of the African Law and the special consent of the Native Chiefs, but while they remained British subjects they were breaking Acts of Parliament which forbade the civil jurisdiction that had been assumed.

This plan, however, went on without any incident for about a year, when it terminated[2] as follows:—A native carrier made away with a box containing about 70 lbs. of tea, and was subjected to the usual punishment. But in this case the culprit seems to have been given over to the tender mercies of some natives. Now this might have been quite justifiable as an experiment in carrying out native law, but it was a doubtful method on the whole, as it is too common for natives to flog a person to death for the most trivial offence. It happened in this case, that the poor fellow died.

The medical man testified that the flogging did not seem to have been sufficient cause of the death, nor was it suspected at the time that the unfortunate thief had been beaten with undue severity. But precognitions, taken long after, went to show that the punishment inflicted was much too severe. This supposed evidence, however, was not carefully sifted, and it came from men who were allowed to have an _animus_ against an artisan who was afterwards found to be entirely innocent. Still the case gave a lesson to all and sundry regarding the danger of this method of punishment, and though it was not connected with the Mission it ultimately shewed the danger of mixing up Mission work with civil affairs. Such a position as the Church had taken might be necessary in a lawless land, but the promoters of a colony ought to have considered exactly how it was to be carried on. Were they to ask an Ordained Minister to act as a Civil Governor? Such a one if he had the spirit of a Missionary at all, would find more congenial work, and would reply, “I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it and come down to you?” At the same time, if there did arise any suspicion that criminals were treated with too great severity, it became the duty of everyone to endeavour to discourage such an administration of justice, even though he could put nothing in its place.

_Efforts made to find a Clergyman._—Hitherto, the Missionaries at Blantyre had been laymen, but the Directors tried earnestly to get a clergyman to join the Mission. In the report of 1877, they say:—

“It is with pain and regret that the Committee have to report that, notwithstanding many and sustained efforts, they have not succeeded in obtaining an ordained minister to the Mission. The staff at Blantyre were sent out to prepare the way for a minister, and, indeed, it was plain some time would elapse before the services peculiarly called for at a minister’s hands would be needed. But it is felt the Mission is the nucleus of a Church, with the minister as the proper head—the instrument and director of the Christian agency among the people. It was scarcely dreamed of, that a year would elapse, and yet, notwithstanding many calls, see the Mission without its spiritual leader. The want, indeed, is temporally supplied by the charity of the sister Mission (_i.e._, of the Free Church) but is it not matter of humiliation that no one has come forth from the ordained ranks of the Church to go to Blantyre in the spirit of their Master’s love, and to gather into His gentle fold the thousands of poor and crushed, but docile and willing natives, who are day and night crying inarticulately for the day of their redemption?”

Even the above touching appeal although most widely circulated had no effect. On this matter (which we venture to allude to, as bearing greatly on Mission work), it may be remarked that the difficulty in finding Missionaries arises chiefly from the position that these men occupy. Notwithstanding that the Church of Scotland throughout her history has said much about Presbyterian parity, her Missionaries are placed on a very inferior footing as compared with her regular Clergy. In using the word inferior, I do not apply it to the Missionaries themselves (who have the same training as other clergymen) but only to their position, although, unfortunately, most young men feel that the footing on which the Church appoints such Agents gives a key to the value that she sets upon their work. The Minister of a Parish in Scotland cannot be deprived of his charge till an accusation is formulated against him, and found proven by a regular legal process, but the Missionary must put himself under a Committee of Managers who may dispense with his services at their pleasure. Hence we rarely hear of any Minister of the Church of Scotland leaving a home charge for the sake of Mission work, however urgent, and indeed it is not often that the Church goes in quest of Ordained Ministers, her Missionary posts being usually filled from the ranks of students, and students too whose education has been aided by the Foreign Mission Funds. Another difficulty that meets the Missionary arises from the want of interest in his work. The Ministers at home are fully occupied with the affairs of their own charges, and they cannot be expected to attend to the comparatively insignificant efforts made abroad, and when they have to think of Foreign Work at all, they lay hold of the views that lie nearest the surface. It has frequently been the experience of Missionaries that the ignorance of their true circumstances was as great as the amount of ocean-water that separated them from their native land. Shortly after being ordained to a charge in the North of Scotland, the writer had the Blantyre Mission first brought under his notice when he received a letter of 12 Nov., 1877, which began as follows:—

“I have no idea whether the following suggestion may at all commend itself to you, but I write simply because what I have heard of you is so favourable that I am confident you would suit on your side, if the idea should be entertained by you. A clerical head is wanted for our new Mission in Africa.” But although the necessities of Africa appealed strongly to every generous impulse, the Missionary Regulations of the Church seemed to present a barrier to any reasonable adventure on behalf of that dark land. The missionary requires some guarantee that he will not be torn away from his work after he sets his heart on it. At the request of the member of the Mission Committee who had sent me the letter, I went to meet him, taking with me a copy of the Missionary Regulations. I pointed out the Rules that I thought objectionable, and was told that they applied to India and not to Africa at all, and that my position would be practically that of a parish minister. Receiving this statement with full confidence, I inferred that the chief enemies to calculate on now, were discomfort and dishealth. Still such cases present a dilemma. While a person is convinced that there is a strong call to mission work abroad, he feels also that much good work may be done at home. After more pressing representations from headquarters, and subsequent interviews with devoted men like Dr. MacRae of Hawick, whose missionary zeal was infectious, I began to feel that my duty was more clear. But I deliberated much on the matter, and on 1st January, 1878, I wrote Dr. MacRae not to trust to my going but I said, “I see clearly it is the duty of some one to go”.

By the middle of January, however, I consented to go to Africa. As it was deemed very dangerous to encounter the tropical rivers till much later, our start was deferred till 11th April. By May 4th, we reached Capetown, where we met Sir Bartle Frere, who takes much interest in Central Africa. A few days more brought us to Port Elizabeth. Here we received a letter from Dr. Stewart, of Lovedale, warning us against entering the country at such a dangerous season. But since we had the promise of our Directors that the Medical Missionary would meet us at Quilimane, we felt that it would be unfair to make any European risk his life in waiting for us at such an unhealthy place, and consequently we pressed on.

Chapter VI.

Quilimane To Blantyre.

On our journey out we saw little or nothing that calls for remark. Flying fish and frisking dolphins are great wonders at first, but one soon gets used to them. Intending travellers sometimes trouble themselves by speculating about the evils of intense heat and sea-sickness. But our thoughts went beyond these annoyances, knowing as we did that we should have to grapple with the malaria of tropical rivers and mangrove swamps. Still we found it a distressing experience to be shut up in an underdeck cabin with the port-holes closed. It is a pity that ships have no apparatus that would shut when the waves come up and open when they recede: modern mechanics ought to solve this problem. With regard to sea-sickness, however, we seem with all our science to be no better off than our fathers. We are told that the motion of the vessel disturbs “cerebral circulation”. We are thankful for this information, but all the same we must resolutely keep down our heads on the pillow!

By the 22nd of May, 1878, we passed the mouth of the Zambeze. As we gazed on the spot where the great river discharges itself into the sea, well might our thoughts turn back to the time long gone by when the Portuguese missionaries used to land there. These men had stations all along the Zambeze before there was any European settlement at Quilimane. The name Quilimane, or more correctly Quelimane (Kwelimani) is said to represent two native words which mean “Come and hoe”. This derivation I heard from the Portuguese, and I have no hesitation in preferring it to one given by Captain Burton, which would make the name mean “From the hillock”. “Kwe-limani” might almost mean “Come and hoe” in the Yao language. The tradition is that an old missionary found out the place, which was then under a native chieftainess; and on requesting her permission to settle, he was told that he might “come and hoe”. The native name for Quilimane is Chuambo, which other dialects make Chuabo and Chiwambo. The old missionaries worked hard, and in course of time they had a convent of considerable importance at Quilimane. But many are the changes that take place amidst the lapse of centuries—the Quilimane river now flows over this consecrated ground. The church of Luabo at the mouth of the Zambeze was the victim of a similar fate. Houses “built on the sand” are peculiarly unstable on the margin of a great tropical river. Alas! those missionary efforts of the remote past have left no trace behind them except in a few chants still sung by the boatmen of Mazaro, who keep time with their paddles to the tune of some old missionary hymn. One of the greatest favourites begins “Sina mama, sina baba,” and the burden of it is “I have no father, I have no mother: thou, O Mary, art our mother”. We were told that the belfry of the church of Luabo stood out in the middle of the broad Zambeze long after the rest of the building was submerged. The natives would not allow the old bell to be taken away—it was to them a kind of patron saint, and might, amidst all their superstition, carry them back to a time when the Portuguese tried to reach their hearts by something more sacred than merchandise or military discipline. All that we had heard of Quilimane led us to believe that it was one of the most unhealthy and undesirable places in the world. Livingstone speaks of it as a mangrove swamp, and we knew that some of his European followers had died there and been buried, although, as we afterwards discovered, the natives did not allow them to rest long in the grave. Even the Portuguese have to watch the graves of their kindred for several weeks—a circumstance which does not prepossess one in favour of the native population. With regard to the European inhabitants we learned that Quilimane had been used as a penal settlement, and that every second person we should meet must either be a convict himself or a descendant of convicts. Then as to its comforts, one of our countrymen who had visited the place complained that he had been charged an exorbitant sum for accommodation not good enough for a cow.

On the 23rd of May, our steamer anchored at the mouth of the Quilimane river—a distance of twelve miles from the town. We found to our great disappointment that no one had come from the Mission to meet us. But we soon got into a small boat manned by Africans and proceeded up the river. Our black boatmen were hearty fellows, and every few minutes they struck up a lively song. The noise was something terrific! But we were delighted with their wild chants, which seemed to afford equal pleasure to the singers. I saw one man prepare a cigar, and just as he was proceeding to smoke, another song was begun. I watched with interest to see whether he would prefer his pipe to the music. At first he seemed disposed to try both; but soon he decided in favour of the song, and laid aside his twisted tobacco leaf. After we had rowed for about two miles, our boat captain shouted “Inglez” (Englishman)—and pointed to an “Englishman” coming down the river in another boat. There is a proverb that every Englishman found on this coast is sure to be a Scotchman, and it proved true on this occasion. We had the pleasure of meeting a Scotch gentleman—Mr. Fairlie—who had been hunting on the Zambeze, and who was now hasting down to meet the steamer. From him we learned that in Quilimane there was only one person that could speak English—hence we could see that our society would be very select. By the time that we arrived, it was dark. As the river had a broad border of mud, in which the natives were sinking over the knees, we could not step on _terra firma_, but had to be taken out of the boat on the shoulders of two negroes. A palanquin was brought for the lady. We now met Senhor Nunes, the British Consul, who received us kindly and conducted us to the hotel. Here our wants were attended to by half-a-dozen little black boys and one young girl who acted as housekeeper. At first we were greatly startled at the scantiness of their dress, but we became accustomed to them, and found them careful and attentive. The hotel accommodation was much better than we had been led to expect. No doubt charges must be high, as it is difficult to bring provisions to this “outlandish” place. There is not even a butcher in Quilimane, and at dinner here, as in many other African places, the first course is fowls, the second course fowls, and the third course fowls. Occasionally, we were treated to delicious shrimps and prawns with which the river abounds. We were soon informed that the Mission boats had not come down and that we should have to wait for ten or fifteen days. Wait in Quilimane for fifteen days! We were stunned by the very idea of this, believing that it was certain death to spend a week in this dreadful place. We were full of bright plans in those days. A messenger must be sent on at once to Blantyre to tell the missionaries of our arrival, and to request them to come to our aid. Amidst our anxiety we did not perceive how ridiculous our proposal was. Why, it was as if a man had been despatched from John o’ Groats to Yorkshire six hundred years ago. After such a messenger had passed through all the ‘Grants, Mackenzies, and Mackays’—all the wild Highland clans and fighting Lowland chiefs, very little of him would have been left; and so our devoted messenger, after going on for about a week, wisely stopped short at Mazaro.

Our objection was not to the people or to the hotel and its fare—but to the place; we wanted to get out of Quilimane. The Portuguese we found exceedingly kind to us, the only part of their sympathy that we did not relish was when they remarked that Quilimane might, after all, be a better place than Blantyre. Consumptive people were able to tell us that after being sent to Madeira without any benefit, they had recovered at once on coming to Quilimane. The town, built on the site first chosen by the missionary on account of the harbour, bids fair to become a flourishing place. It stands on an island: for besides the Quilimane river and another twelve miles further north, there is a third river connecting these two. So level is the country that this river flows sometimes in one direction and sometimes in the opposite—a phenomenon which the Portuguese are fond of pointing to as an explanation of the conflicting statements of travellers in the interior, one of whom states that a river flows north while another asserts that it flows south. The Portuguese treat the natives with kindness, although they keep them at a respectable distance. Their domestics live in whole families at the back of the houses. When a visitor takes a walk in the country, he is quite astonished at the multitude of natives that have crowded round the Portuguese. I marched on for miles before coming to the end of these villages—a circumstance which shows how much the natives prefer the government of the white man to the misrule of their own chiefs. But the Portuguese believe that the native is not capable of much improvement, and they assert this opinion with the greatest confidence. As we reflected that they had been face to face with the natives for generations, we were somewhat discouraged by the conclusions formed by these acute and practical Europeans.

Language is a great difficulty here. In order to get on at Quilimane one requires to know both Portuguese and Kafir (or Ichuabo as the natives call it). We felt as strange as the foreigner, who, being unable to communicate with any one, was deprived of all human sympathy; at last he heard a cock crow when he exclaimed, “Ah! poor fowl, you are the only one that understands me”. It is a considerable trial for one to be in a country where he understands no human utterance except perhaps the cries of a child. In every way it is a great change to be transported from the snows of the North into the heart of tropical scenery and many are the thoughts called forth by the transition. Here the very birds seemed to sing in a foreign tongue. We were ready to sympathise with the stanza:—

“The palm-tree waveth high, And fair the myrtle springs, And to the Indian Maid The bulbul sweetly sings.

But I dinna see the broom Wi’ its tassels on the lea; Nor hear the lintie’s sang O’ my ain countrie.”

It would not have been correct to add with reference to Quilimane,

“Ah! here no Sabbath bell Awakes the Sabbath morn,”

for there was one very active bell, whose tones were heard almost every day. Opposite our abode stood a small Roman Catholic Church, and all the bodies of the deceased Portuguese were taken here for the funeral service. The negroes do not receive Christian burial. We asked whether they had any worship of God, and the answer was, “No, No, the Kafirs are like brutes, but the missionaries are teaching them in the interior”. The natives work on Sundays as on other days. They are splendid porters, they carry everything on their heads,—even weights of 70 pounds; nor do they dash boxes as is often done at railway stations in Britain. They are never in haste about anything. They consider sixpence a day very good wages. As they wear no clothes and get food easily, they have hardly any motives to work, and when they obtain a few coppers they generally spend them in rum. There being no carts or horses at Quilimane, many natives were employed in carrying enormous trees, each of which required about 30 bearers. Every party was accompanied by a man with a whip who seemed to have as hard work as any of them!

We were detained for nearly four weeks at Quilimane. Often did we stand and look up the river to see whether the Mission boats were coming, and even after they did come there was much delay. A journey to the coast occupied from six to eight weeks and was seldom undertaken by the Missionaries. Consequently it was always desirable to take up to Blantyre as much goods as possible. It is at Quilimane that strangers first realize the nakedness of the land they are going to, and here they have the last opportunity of buying anything.

The merchants are Banians, and the prices are three times the rate of goods in England. There is not only great expense but also great risk in taking goods to such a remote place. Many articles that would not cost fourpence at home were charged a rupee here. “It only costs 4d. in England,” says the buyer. “Oh yes, in England! Well you—my brother, I’ll give it for two shilling!”

We all suffered more or less from our stay at Quilimane. One morning none of our party was able to be at breakfast but myself, and I was far from well. As I thought of the terrible journey that lay before us, I concluded that our lives were not worth much. In this land one is much impressed with the uncertainty of time. I knew a Missionary that made no secret of carrying, on every journey, a box containing a will—more I suppose as a matter of form than because a poor Missionary has anything to bequeath.

Besides making many friends among the Portuguese gentlemen, we found that our landlord’s black servants began to take to us very much. They seemed to wish to go to Blantyre in a body. Of course we endeavoured to dissuade them from leaving their master, and took pains to explain both to him and to themselves that we did not want them at all. But one boy Lasertha whose father lived at a great distance up the Quilimane river, took the matter in his own hands. He disappeared about a week before we started, and one day after we had forgotten all about him, he and his father came to us, and it was arranged that Lasertha should join our party.

_From Quilimane to Mazaro._

It was the afternoon of the 18th of June before we started from Quilimane. We were taken up the river in small boats, propelled by paddles. A grass awning was put up to defend us from the rays of the sun. The sides of the river being lined for many yards with deep layers of mud, we had to be carried to and from the boats on the shoulders of the negroes who were liable to fall, and we therefore made the journey as seldom as possible.

When we came to the place where we were to pass the night, the boats were pushed towards the side of the river, till grounded on the mud. As we suffered from thirst, we tried most eagerly to procure drinking water—but none could be found. At this wretched spot there had once been a village, but its inhabitants had run away on account of lions, and their well had dried up. The river was quite salt, but the natives dug a hole with their hands and feet in the dirty mud at the side and procured some water which we had to use for cooking. In those days we possessed a big black kettle which served as a tea pot: it was sometimes my duty to empty this vessel and I can testify that there was often fully an inch of mud in the bottom after our tea had been poured off!

This was the first night that we spent beyond the limits of civilization. Our cork beds were now spread out for the first time. Though we afterwards found them convenient, we had hitherto been used to a softer couch, and might as well have tried to sleep on a section of Caithness pavement. Soon our rest was disturbed by other causes. When the tide ebbed, we were left on a mud bank far out of the river. The mosquitoes scented fresh blood, and attacked us in hundreds. We had already endured these little pests for four weeks at Quilimane. There every night as soon as the sun set we became their special prey. At first, they rather astonished us by showing that they could bite through a thick pair of trousers, though ultimately we became more familiar with them. But the mosquitoes of Quilimane were feeble compared with those of the desert. Moreover, we found it difficult to arrange beds and mosquito-curtains in the small space that was at our disposal. Consequently we suffered much from their attack—our faces were so bitten and swollen that we could hardly recognise each other. After spending three or four hours in trying to sleep, we passed a unanimous resolution that sleep was impossible, and as a measure of desperation we spent the remainder of the night in proposing riddles to each other! Next morning, as soon as the tide flowed, we resumed our miserable journey. We had to sit patiently under our curtains till the sun rose and drove the mosquitoes away. During these imprisonments we sometimes debated why the book of Exodus says nothing about the trouble that the Israelites must have had from mosquitoes in the wilderness, only we were inclined to think that these followers of Moses must have been as impregnable as the natives around us. Besides our curtains we tried another method of repelling this troublesome foe. We kept pieces of twisted paper smouldering by us, and the disagreeable smoke held the mosquitoes at bay. We were now far beyond the region of daily or even weekly newspapers, and when our supply of paper was exhausted, we burnt pieces of cloth. This method of defence was soon brought into discredit; one of the party lighted a cloth without twisting it sufficiently, and it suddenly flared up and set his mosquito curtain on fire! During the day as the boats moved wearily along we lay under our grass awning in a little space where we had scarcely room to turn. Our nights were extremely uncomfortable. While the angry mosquitoes were buzzing outside our curtains, the negroes were constantly talking and beating drums to frighten the wild beasts. As we proceeded up the river the water became very low, and our crew had to go out and put their shoulders to the boat in order to force it over sandbanks and along shallows. This was tedious work; but the richness of tropical life and scenery unfolded itself around us. Amidst the vast tangle of bushes and branches there sat birds of bright plumage which gazed on us as tamely as if man had never before disturbed their solitude. At certain spots, enormous flocks of wild fowl retreated in terror as we approached. Here and there a monkey surveyed us for a moment from the branches of some giant tree, and then hid itself among the dense thickets. When night let her curtain fall on the scene, the banks of the river were illuminated with fire-flies, which made every tuft of grass shine and sparkle.

[Illustration: WOMEN OF MAZARO DRAWING WATER.]

Soon the water was so shallow that we had to leave our boats altogether at Mugurumbe. Here we slept one night in a native hut. Our journey was continued next day in palanquins: about six natives were told off to carry each European. Owing to the heat of the climate none of the Portuguese here ever walk. Even when they are going short distances, they employ natives to carry them. The road is about two feet wide, and lined on both sides with African grass (which rises to a height sometimes of ten feet) and also with many varieties of flowers, shrubs and grasses, some of which were brought before our notice very forcibly, as the men rattled along without thinking of their living load. At times we came to patches of cultivated ground, and then we knew that we were near a village. The villagers welcomed us by a loud clapping of hands. They looked much delighted when we responded to their welcome in their own way. They seemed to feel as if we spoke in their own tongue, and at one village they repaid our condescension (as they thought it) by sending out volunteers to help on our palanquins. At Mazaro we got our first look of the Zambeze, and a magnificent river it is. Though not very deep, at this spot it is exceedingly broad—the natives take an hour to sail across it. Here our steel boat awaited us, and a welcome sight it was after the small boats that we had hitherto had. We had now reached another important stage, and we expected to complete our journey in three weeks. The first week we should be among Portuguese subjects, the second in the country of a Portuguese outlaw, while the third week would find us among the people we were to christianise.

_From Mazaro to Makukani’s._—Leaving Mazaro on Tuesday, 25th June, we committed ourselves to the water once more. The navigation of the Zambeze is by no means easy. Generally we were sticking upon sandbanks. Our boatmen were seldom able to use their oars, they had either to push the boat by long poles, or to drag it along the banks with a rope. Here and there there is a deep channel, but the current is so strong that it promises to carry everything down to the sea.

We expected to reach Shupanga on the first night. It is here that Mrs. Livingstone lies under the large baobab tree. But we did not get so far, and, as the channel of the river has changed, we passed next morning on the other side. Mrs. Macdonald was disappointed at this, as she wished to place a wreath of flowers upon the lonely grave. Neither did we see Bishop Mackenzie’s last resting-place, as it was late at night when we passed the spot. The natives perceiving that we felt an interest in these graves, spoke of them with an air of solemnity. Our boatmen were all from Mazaro, and ought to have known something of Livingstone while he stayed at Shupanga. We produced a portrait of him on the lid of a match-box, and fondly hoped they might recognise it!

On June 28th, we reached Shamo, where Dr. Macklin wished to buy a score of cows for the Mission. As our big boat was apt to fall behind, he sent us on before, proposing to overtake us in a few days. Soon we were on the river Shire (more properly Chiri) which is narrower and deeper than the Zambeze.[3] Here the boatmen used their oars oftener. On getting a favourable wind they put up a small sail, but as sails are not a native contrivance, their method of using them was not very assuring. Notwithstanding the force of the current we made fair progress, but we waited longer at every landing place, in order to be overtaken by the rest of the party. Thus we had a better opportunity of seeing the country. One night we walked over to see a celebrated hot spring at the base of Morumbala. Still, we had a salutary dread of making ourselves too much at home in this malarious region. Three or four of our men in succession, suffered from fever, and as the Doctor was behind, I had to try my hand at making pills. The natives receive our medicine with such implicit faith that the cure is half effected the moment they swallow it. I took care, above all things, not to give them anything too weak. We used saline draughts both for ourselves and the natives. In malarial climes there is a craving for such beverages. One medical man told us that seidlitz powders required to be labelled ‘poison’ as otherwise they disappeared like magic.

[Illustration: NATIVES CUTTING UP A HIPPOPOTAMUS FOR FOOD.]

Along the Chiri we saw many hippopotami and crocodiles. The former are hunted by the natives for their flesh, the latter are killed on account of their venomous character. When any of these creatures appeared, the men were very anxious that I should fire on them, and as we never slept soundly at night, the shooting was an agreeable excitement which revived us for the day. One hippopotamus came against our boat with all its might, and gave us a shock which would have certainly upset a smaller craft. After passing, it looked back as if to see how much damage it had done. At times we had much conversation with the “boys”. They formed a singing class, and made rapid progress. There were with us, Bismarck, Armasao, Lasertha, and Rondao. Bismarck was the philosopher of the party. The boatmen have a habit of whistling for wind, and he explained it thus, “When you have a friend far away, you call on him when you wish him to come”. But notwithstanding their whistling, the wind was often slow in coming. At midnight on the 5th of July, we were awakened by an awful screaming. My first impression was that we were drifting down the river, while the boys were trying to awaken us. I was surprised at this, since I had taken special pains with the anchor that night. But as the noise continued, I perceived that it was a terrible cry of distress—at the same time the dog we had brought from Quilimane (which was known by the name of Elton), was barking furiously. Before I had time to understand the situation, little Lasertha shouted out in a voice tremulous with fear, “O master, master, take my hand”. This he said in Portuguese. Then Bismarck entered by the stern of the boat. “What is it, Bismarck?” “Lions, lions.” “Are all the men in the boat?” “No.” For the first time in my life, there flashed across my mind the depth of meaning expressed by the simile of “the roaring-lion, seeking whom he may devour”. My rifle which lay loaded beside me, I at once discharged, not with the idea of shooting the lions, which could not be well seen in the darkness, but in order to scare them. Most of the men were in the boat in a moment. They acted with great presence of mind. I often wondered why in the excitement they had not tried to pull the boat ashore before raising the anchor! All swam to the boat with the exception of Armasao, who waited till it was pulled nearer. He seemed more afraid of the crocodiles in the water, than of the lions on the bank. Of course, beds and cooking gear were left behind in the terrible race for life. After all were safe, the lions set up a hideous roaring, which continued for hours. I asked whether Elton was in the boat, and understood he was. But when we put back in the morning, Bismarck called out in a piteous voice, “Elton die!” and held up the dead creature before me. He had not been devoured by the lion, and the body had no mark except in the region of the heart. This noble dog had been the means of saving the life of at least one of our men. He began to bark as the lions were coming through the long grass, and as soon as the first one presented itself he ran to attack. By this time the men were entirely at the lion’s mercy, but for the diversion caused by the dog. As it was, the spot where Elton lay dead was just at the side of Bismarck’s bed. In fact, the dog was lying dead almost at Armasao’s feet before he was safe himself. If this had been a native dog, he would have been the first to flee. The little incident sometimes served to illustrate among simple natives, how one being might die to save others. All our companions had been much alarmed, but none more so than one of the little boys, who told us that one evening as he sat with a group at his own home, a lion dashed into the circle and killed a man.

We had still great trouble from mosquitoes. As soon as it was dusk they were upon us in full force. We would ask a little boy to light some grass, and as it kept smouldering beside us, the smoke filled the boat, and made it easier to take our evening meal. The boatful of smoke, though not pleasant, was more acceptable than mosquito bites.

Some evenings we encountered great shoals of white moths. They fell upon the boat as thick as snowflakes. One night I lighted a candle and such were their numbers that they extinguished it several times before I could put it into the lantern. Those harmless creatures were very short lived, and in the morning the boat was literally covered with their dead bodies.

Along the Chiri the scenery is for the most part monotonous, but at times we see beautiful ranges of mountains, some of which call up memories of a distant land. We observed sharp-pointed conical hills like the Pap of Caithness, craggy mountains like Arthur’s Seat, and no end of those common rounded hills with oval tops.

On the _8th of July_ we descried a large herd of elephants. We had observed a few on previous days, but here was a herd of about forty. Such an instinct have the natives for meat (nyama) that they were out of the boat and standing close beside these huge animals in a few moments. One lad went up to an elephant and deliberately fired several revolver shots at his head. The great monster merely shook himself, and moved off with his companions. The boys pursued for some distance, but returned complaining that elephants had very thick skins. The natives do not fear the elephant as they do the lion.

On the 10th we arrived at Makukani’s, where we left our boats. We met with a most enthusiastic welcome here. About three hundred natives were on the banks, and Bismarck said, “It is to see the white lady”. By this time, we were among people who understood _yes_ and _no_, and said “good morning”. They were quite as fortunate in the use of their salutations as our friends had been at Quilimane. It was common there for a gentleman to _introduce_ himself in the evening by holding out his hand and saying _good night_, instead of good evening, greatly to the amusement of such of his friends as knew more of English. Intercourse with foreigners calls attention to the peculiarities of our own idiom. When we say to a native, “Now, look out,” he is very likely to look _out_, and thus expose himself to the very danger that he is warned against. If he had warned himself, he would have said ‘look _in_.’ One morning Ropa burnt my hand through my telling him to ‘hold on,’ when I wanted him to let go. He did ‘hold on’ most faithfully. At this place people came great distances to meet us. They had heard that Englishmen were come, and the new arrivals had been announced in such a way as to convey the impression that the Rev. Horace Waller had come back. Accordingly we had a visit from an old woman, accompanied by a man and woman much younger, who had all been members of the Magomero Mission. The old woman looked round to see if she could recognise “Atate anga, atate anga” (My father, my father,—meaning Mr. Waller), and when she failed she looked disappointed, and said in a kind of despairing inquiry, “There is no coming back for my father again?” She had no pelele, and on asking the reason we were told that Mr. Waller had taken it out. We soon discovered that the natives were great beggars. At the beginning of our river journey we were beset with people who requested rum (kachaso), here the cry was chiefly for cloth: it was only the men at the top of the social scale that begged for rum! The chief Makukani was a stout man, somewhat bent, and blind of an eye. He could be easily distinguished from his men, as his dress was even scantier than theirs. He expressed an earnest desire that the English would bring out a white wife for him. He has an enormous harem in which we saw one or two men armed with knob-sticks, whose duty, we were told, was to keep order among his wives. He promised to send his sons and daughters to school, but this was only the promise of politeness. His sons had been already at Livingstonia, where they had proved rather troublesome, and two years elapsed before they came to Blantyre. We occupied one of the chiefs huts all night, and started next afternoon for the Chiri hills. The carriers were at first likely to leave us at a spot where there was no roof to sleep under except the canopy of heaven, but on learning that Mr. Buchanan was at the Kabula we made them push on to reach him. Mrs. Macdonald arrived first, and by the time I came up she was in possession of his snug little tent. Next morning he went down to meet Dr. Macklin. By this time I discovered that I had lost a small pocket diary; and it is worth saying that though lost among the wildest-looking hills, it was found by a native and restored with all that it contained. I began at once to extol the honesty of the negroes! But the circumstance is easily understood when one considers that a ‘paper’ is of no use to a native. On Friday the 12th of July, we started from the Kabula at eight o’clock, and continued our journey through wild and beautiful scenery. Our progress was much interrupted, and often one of the natives would use his hatchet to cut down small trees that obstructed the path. The sun was exceedingly hot and the palanquins had no shade over them. We also found that we could get no water to quench our burning thirst. When on the Chiri we had drunk freely of its waters, ignorant of the number of criminals that are thrown into this Tophet by the Magololo. About mid-day we came up to a beautiful stream. Mrs. Macdonald had reached it more exhausted than myself, and I found her fast asleep under a tree. We had started without much breakfast, but we carried a pocketful of boiled eggs for lunch, and partook of them by the side of this mountain stream. At four o’clock we reached Blantyre. Mrs. Macdonald was a few yards in advance, and received a hearty welcome from a crowd of native men and women who were in the square expecting our arrival. It was three months since we had left England. We were exceedingly tired after such a long journey, and welcomed a night’s rest. All along I had kept a loaded gun by my side, which I now wished to get rid of. The artisan opened his eyes at my proposal, and said it had been judged safest to sleep with weapons beside us. That very night our slumbers were broken by a great commotion during which we heard the report of a gun. We were prepared to find that some enemy had come, but it was only a leopard that had carried off a young pig.

On Sunday we had a short service in English and two native meetings. At the meetings the schoolroom was quite full. No Englishman in the country ventures to use the native language, all rely on the interpreters. On Monday there were over twenty pupils in school, some reading small books and making letters on slates; others learning the alphabet.

After the heat experienced on the river, we felt Blantyre quite cold especially in the morning and evening. We were very thankful that we had enjoyed good health on the whole. We were the first party that had travelled from Quilimane to Blantyre without suffering from fever by the way.

It was a few days before we got our baggage, and Makukani had possessed himself of some valuables that had been sent out for the Mission. We had come out with a very high opinion of the brave native kings, but incidents of this kind were fitted to destroy the enchantment. Before leaving home I had asked very anxiously what we were to do if a native caught a white man and put him in a dungeon. I was told that the rest of the staff would know how to manage all that. This was quite correct for their years of experience in the country gave them the practical tact necessary in dealing with the strange people about them. On this occasion they imprisoned several of Makukani’s men and took their guns from them. In order to get back his guns, the chief sent up all the missing articles, which would have been entirely lost but for this prompt measure. The belief at the Mission was that these chiefs would take everything if they thought that they had more power than the Missionaries.

Chapter VII.

The Mission Station.

Fortunately we had seen too much of Africa to expect a carpeted room and a cushioned chair at Blantyre. We had slept so often in “shielins” incomparably worse than a Scotch hen-house, that we did not care what kind of roof covered us. “If you want to make a man happy,” it is said, “strive not to increase his comforts but to lessen his desires.” An experience like ours recommended the proverb; and as we stood for a minute (we would have sat if there had been a spare chair) “glowrin frae’s” in what we might call our own “fowl-house,” we saw that we should have many opportunities for exercising self-denial. When our friends in Scotland had tried to dissuade us from going to Africa, they had pointed out how prudent the men were who go no farther in mission work than to address drawing-room meetings. Still, we were quite contented. We had been promised the prayerful sympathy of the Church at home, and now we knew most of our difficulties. At least we thought so, and were happy, but “Dici beatus ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet”. Blantyre, although highly praised at home, did not possess many attractions for the newcomer. On our first introduction to the manse we perceived that it contained two rooms. In the larger of these there was nothing but a huge table, which was noteworthy in many respects. It was the only one we had seen for a month, and with the exception of a board used by the artisans, it was the only table within a hundred miles. It had to serve too in surgical cases: when any poor native had to undergo an operation, it was on this that the doctors had to place him. The smaller room we may describe as a bedroom, though when we were first ushered into it, it contained neither bedstead nor bed, and boasted only of one small chair of the rudest description. In our hut there were two doors, but neither of them had a lock, and one had no fastening at all. When we learned that thieves and wild beasts were frequent visitors, we began to barricade doors and windows with chairs, books, and buckets. At this moment, however, as our luggage had not yet arrived, we were safe from theft, unless we should be served as were certain members of the Universities’ Mission, who had their very coat buttons cut off. There were three other inhabited houses built on the same plan as ours, but none of them were so well furnished! While there was one efficient door in the manse, and perhaps another in the doctor’s house, the artisans’ had no doors at all, but mattings of grass were propped up in the doorways at night. Chairs were a great rarity; I do not think there were more than four in the whole station, old boxes doing duty instead.

[Illustration: THE BLANTYRE MISSION.]

But although our houses were only mud huts they had an English finish about them and were very acceptable to those that had wandered so long. Writing at this time I said:—“The present houses promise to last only for about three years, so that in a short time we must make brick, with a view to more permanent dwellings. Rats and white ants annoy us considerably. With the former we are constantly at war, assisted by traps, and cats, and a tame owl. Sometimes a gun is used when half-a-dozen of them may be killed by a single discharge. They are so troublesome from their great numbers, that we must try phosphorus paste or some such poison. White ants come up through the floor, and attack books or clothes, rendering them quite useless in a single night. When a person wants a skeleton for a specimen, he has only to put down the animal near these ants, and in a short time he finds nothing but the bones. Smaller ants creep everywhere. One method of placing our food out of their reach is to put it in a box suspended by a rope from the ceiling. In our house there was, by and by, an apology for a cupboard the legs of which had to be placed in water, but notwithstanding this precaution these insects made a bridge over the bodies of their drowned companions and covered our breakfast fowl in such numbers that the fowl itself actually could not be seen. One of their most annoying tricks is to visit a sleeper in bed. More terrible still are the large red ants (salau). Their attack has made many a traveller leave his bed and stand in the smoke of a fire for the remainder of the night. They bite furiously, and do not let go their hold even after the head is severed from their body. When a European happens to stand among them he has to rush into the house at once, and divest himself of all his clothing. After he has apparently destroyed all his enemies, he has some difficulty in taking their heads away from his skin. According to the natives they will kill an elephant. Entering his nostrils they cause such irritation that the animal commits suicide by dashing against trees and rocks; and then the ants enjoy the carcase. They attack their victims with much skill, waiting till they have spread themselves all over his body, and then working by well understood signals. When on the march, the smaller ants go in the middle, while the larger who are the ‘soldiers’ line the sides. On a disturbance the soldiers hasten to the scene of danger. The average line of march is hardly an inch broad but may be half a mile long. They go very closely probably about 30 being on every square inch. When they threaten to enter a house the best way of diverting them is by putting fire on their path. Sometimes the Missionaries had to stand a siege for a few hours from these formidable armies.”

The Mission Station was situated on a knoll, and well exposed to all the cool breezes. The wind is never high; seldom can a man get his hat blown off. But occasionally there are whirlwinds which toss native baskets in the air to a height of several feet. A “cloudless sky” has been often mentioned as a characteristic of a happy land, but here one does not appreciate the metaphor. There are large grasshoppers which the natives catch for food, as also many small birds which the schoolboys shoot with blunted arrows.

_African Fever._ All of us, not excepting the doctor himself, paid the penalty for passing through the fever region. We thought that after reaching Blantyre our troubles were to be at an end. A week passes after our arrival, and still no fever; surely we are all right now. Only let a man get a chill, and he will soon discover. A person passes along our clay floors without his boots of a morning, and the thing is done,—he may take any preventive measure he chooses, but the fever will take its course.

Our illness began ten days after our arrival, and we were laid aside for about three weeks. During this time all the other Europeans on the Station were also ill, and no one was able to take care of another. Dr. Macklin often rose from a sick bed to do what he could. One of our greatest difficulties was to get food. The cooking of the natives when left to themselves exceeded anything we had yet encountered. Besides, the black people did not understand a word we said. If we asked for a glass of milk they would bring a tin of biscuits, after that they would try a tin of butter, and then in despair they would bring in an armful of books! But it is when the invalid begins to recover that he misses the comforts of his native land. There are certain things that a sick man must have at home that he cannot get here: he sees this at once and there is no use of fretting over it. Not only is the invalid bereft of home comforts, but he is subjected to a great many annoyances. He hears the jackals and the hyænas screaming round the station, and a single night is sufficient to convince him that these creatures have most powerful lungs. Besides, a lion may be sitting coolly in the verandah. The roads round the mission are marked each morning with the footprints of animals of all kinds. The station is just in the middle of a dense bush, which has not been cleared farther than was absolutely necessary. As one looks out at a window he may see large buck at about 100 yards from him.

_Artisans._—The first thing that struck us as we approached the station, was the paleness of the four or five Englishmen that were standing to welcome us. The effect of this was heightened by their contrast with the hundreds of black faces that surrounded them. Members of the Free Church Mission were there too. Most of the young men felt their isolated position, all had suffered severely from fever, and already death had been thinning their ranks. An air of stillness, not to say of sadness, overhung the place. After we had recovered from attacks of fever; there was a magic lantern entertainment, where through an interpreter I acted as demonstrator. I can never forget Dr. Macklin’s remark, that “there was more fun and laughing that night, both among natives and Europeans, than he had seen since the Mission began”. The men were all of that age when hope is strongest in the human soul, but they had met with much to discourage them. As the dawn of Christmas morn reminded a man of the festivities of the season, and of his friends in the far off home, he found himself lying in bed overcome by weakness, but obliged to hold up an umbrella to shield his blankets from the rain. All had felt what it is to undergo long periods of sickness while destitute of every comfort. The Directors at home, who were entrusted with the Church collections found it necessary to cut down the Mission expenditure. The poor fellows in Africa, though separated from friends and weakened by sickness, had this grim fact ever staring them in the face. The watchword was, “Man, think of the bawbees at the Kirk door!” On one occasion, it had been settled that they must retrench. They could not afford to pay the ordinary price for fowls. On Christmas morning a native came to the Mission, wishing to sell a beautiful cock. It seemed as if Providence had designed them a special treat for the festive season. They began to try to purchase this “tambala,” but, alas, the owner was obstinate. He expected the old price. Economy was supreme, but said one, “I was very sorry as I looked after the man going away with our dinner!”

These hardships naturally caused irritation and discontent. The party for the Government, while making the best of the circumstances, had often to face the hungry Opposition—and the proverb says, “A hungry man’s an angry man”. The speech, “Now, you must not think that I am standing over the provisions like a dog set to keep you from them,” would call forth the reply, “It looks very like it!” But the evil was beyond the power of the Government and the Opposition, both parties being to some extent made victims. Such evils generally begin at home. Persons sent out are told that everything will be done to mitigate their hard lot. Bright promises are held before their eyes, perhaps not by the Directors formally, but by certain of their members. Some of these would be found in the young men’s path at every turning, loudly shouting, “Peace and plenty”. I know nothing more painful than the action of such irresponsible go-betweens. The Directors as a body, cannot, of course, approach the various individuals. What they do, is to refer in an off-hand manner to some of their most zealous members, who take upon them the task of giving information, without first informing themselves, and the result is the most complete deception. Promises are made in good faith, and seem most reasonable in themselves, but the very men that volunteer to give such pledges, have no power to fulfil them, and once the man is abroad, he finds that he has been outwitted. Such hardships as are inevitable, are often a milder item in Mission life, and are always borne with greater cheerfulness, than such as are inflicted through culpable misrepresentation and carelessness.

Men whose hearts are not in the work have little patience during such trials, while even earnest workers are liable to be made discontented while always hearing the grumbling of others, and knowing that it is not without cause. Still amidst much to dishearten them these poor fellows had their day dreams. Hope, the last goddess to forsake the miserable, hovered about their home in the desert. A good story is told of a small party whose walk brought them by chance to the banks of a beautiful rivulet. Amidst the impressive vastness of the African forest, and all the rare scenes of a new country, their hearts were ready to admit most brilliant hopes. As one of them looked about the rivulet he fell on something whose effect was magical. All at once his manner became dignified, the tones of his voice changed, at last he had found a balm for his sorrows. “It’s gold! yes, gold! we need never lift a hammer again.” But alas! the vision of splendour was not realized. It gave place to the usual wrangling about rations, and the proverb “Golden dreams make one awake hungry” was painfully appropriate.

It is most essential for a Church to see that when a band of artisans is sent to places so isolated, every cause of irritation should be avoided; when this is not done the results may be serious. When a great play is acted on this world’s theatre it is one thing to sit as a spectator, and another to be admitted behind the scenes. When I read, as a little boy, of Waterloo, and such celebrated battles, I thought everything connected with the victorious party must be great, and good, and glorious,—that every soldier and officer must be a model of virtue and excellence. But once I met with a Waterloo veteran, and my pre-conceived opinions received a cruel shock. This man told me with the greatest complacency, as if it had been the merest matter of course, that soldiers were put under the strictest discipline, that many of them were men that required this, that frequent quarrels took place, and that many a soldier welcomed a battle as an opportunity for killing not the public enemy, but some private enemy who belonged to his own side and fought in his own regiment! Though man has heavenward aspirations, it is true, alas! that he standeth upon the earth.

We arrived at Blantyre at a very critical period of the Mission’s history. A few months before, an able Missionary on quitting the settlement, said that he left it either to “sink or swim,” and hinted that the former alternative was not improbable. Many of the artisans did not wish to continue in the service of the Mission, believing that they would find it better to become traders and chiefs among the natives.

All the artisans had an enormous influence in the country. In the service of the Mission, they had hundreds of native workmen under their charge. In a private capacity each had one or two black butlers, not to speak of cooks and clothes-washers! Some were large landed proprietors on their own account. They found that any chief would give 1000 acres without a moment’s hesitation, and some of them had acquired whole tracts of territory. But their riches lay lightly on their hearts, and a visitor to the station would not have found out that such freeholds had been acquired. Except in a moment of confidence, no artisan would speak of his great fortune, and unless specially informed we could not have distinguished the man that possessed miles of land, from the man that had not a foot. But it had been mooted at home that some missionaries held land in their own name. Letters which had been quite unintelligible at the time, showed that there was an alarm over the ridiculous subject. Artisans that bargained about large tracts of country were still in the Mission, and did no more good or harm by the transaction than they would have done by acquiring a freehold in the moon!

Chiefs fawned upon Europeans or rather on their goods. They would promise anything or everything for the present of an old coat. When they made a grant of land to one man and received his “present,” they saw nothing inconsistent in giving the same land to a second man, or more correctly to a second “present”. Soon these chiefs were better understood, and however willing the artisans were to keep on good terms with these “great ones,” their constant begging was too much for human patience. The sneaking beings were found to be a perfect nuisance. They put themselves on the footing of beggars, and the most unpretentious of the Europeans had to treat them as such.

The artisans set themselves to train the natives to work. It was difficult at first, but they showed considerable firmness. Some of them believed that the native despised leniency, and formed the opinion that the more they kicked him the more they were respected. This was an unfortunate interpretation of the servility of the African. The plan more frequently adopted was to dismiss any obstinate man without payment, the only danger being that the whole squad would have to be thus treated. Many were slaves, and as they might have to give over their wages to a master, they were not at all sorry to be dismissed. Often masters and slaves would work side by side under the European artisan who did justice to all without respect of persons.

The industrial work was prosecuted with vigour, many natives being employed in making roads. When the bugle sounded on Monday morning, there was a rush of hundreds of men and women who had come to receive employment. One artisan stood ready to select as many workers as he wanted, and he was soon hidden from view as the people crowded around him. Before enrolling the candidates he looked at their hoes and axes, and rejected such as had inferior tools. He rejected also women that had babies on their backs, but when this became known to a native mother, she handed her child to some one else until her name was once on the book. As the native names were sometimes very long, the artisan had a great demand on his powers of writing. “And what’s your name?” he asks. “Unechemtyosyamaguluwe.”[4] “Tut, man, the half of that will do!” is the rejoinder; and a high sounding name like Emmanuel is reduced to Emma.

_Visitors._—For several days after our arrival there was great excitement. Our larger room had four windows, which were thrown open to admit the air, and every morning a crowd gathered at each window to see the white lady! The natives of the Chiri Highlands had seen white men before, but they had scarcely realised that women too would be disfigured by this strange complexion. Some visitors asked an introduction to the newcomer on the ground that “they were women too”. We had to shake hands with all the groups. This was not a native salutation, but we wished to be cordial towards our black brothers and sisters. After grasping a score of dark hands, our own partook of a similar hue. A stranger might feel inclined to wash his hands after the ceremony, but he would return to find that more visitors had come, and that the whole process had to be repeated. The natives are not much inconvenienced by “matter out of place”. Even persons that came from working clay would advance and hold out their hands. But they had good excuse. At this season they had no water on the spot except a little for softening their clay, nor had they any towels. Their loin-cloth seemed often too scanty for wiping the fingers. But in later times when we visited the villages, we have seen women run off to wash their hands, that the English lady might have a proper welcome.

_Neighbours._—I began to confine myself so closely to the acquisition of the language and work in the Mission School, that for a long time I knew nothing of the district round Blantyre. The first occasion on which I saw a little of the country was on a visit to Sochi in company with Dr. Macklin, who went to settle several quarrels with Kapeni, the chief of the country. In going along I was astonished to find so many villages. When the villagers saw us, they made a point of hasting up to say “Morning, morning!” (which is their usual salutation to Englishmen). The males seemed to have all their time at their disposal. With the exception of one who was sewing a piece of cloth, we saw nothing to show that the men did any work at all. But the women were pounding corn or working in the fields.

On reaching the chief’s village we asked for him, but he could not be found. It was thought that he was afraid to show himself. One by one his villagers gathered round till they formed a great assemblage. Some had bows, others knives, and one had a gun, so that they had nothing to fear. We were without weapons of any kind, only an Englishman is always believed to carry a great supply of war medicine. After we had waited a long time, the old chief appeared with a large clear knife in his hand. He sat down at a great distance; when asked to come near he said “No”. Some time ago he had sent the Mission a present which had not been accepted, and he “was ashamed to have it returned”. Our interpreter went over and induced him, after much persuasion, to come beside us; then he sat down on a skin under a large tree. After being introduced, I went up to shake hands with him, and I am not sure whether the poor old man did not regard me with suspicion, for while he gave me his left hand, he held his knife very firmly with the right. Such was my first acquaintance with the king of the country. The sending back of the present was then discussed. The Mission had two complaints against Kapeni: (1) His men had carried off from Blantyre a slave woman that had come there for protection. (2) One of the Blantyre lads when hunting in the district of Sochi came to a village where the chief’s son and certain companions were drinking beer, and they took away his gun and gave him a beating. But the inhabitants of this village feared that the matter would not end well. They reasoned that the outrage had been done in _their_ town, and that the English would come with guns and inflict a severe punishment upon them. Accordingly they took back the gun and returned it to the Blantyre lad, whom they escorted home. The old chief of course denied any knowledge of these facts. He had just “heard about them”. After a little talking, matters were settled in a friendly way, and we ended by inviting the chief over to Blantyre. He said he wished to see the white lady, and to hear the harmonium which had just come, and he bargained to be gratified in these respects. He was much astonished when told that the lady, or “Donna,” never _went out_—he thought it strange that she should not be seen hoeing the fields and pounding corn.

On our way home we passed the village where the gun had been taken, and the doctor invited the men that restored it to come and see how the English people valued their friends. On an appointed day they came and received a present of calico. The chief of Sochi also paid his visit and brought a present of fowls, receiving in return a blanket and a piece of calico.

_Interpreters._—When we arrived there were two interpreters—Tom and Sam. They had been in a slave gang which was liberated by Bishop Mackenzie. Tom remembered his capture. He was playing beside a stream with his little sister when a man seized him. He knew the reason at once. “The man wanted to take me to the coast and sell me for calico.” “Why did you not scream?” “Can’t scream, they put flour on my mouth.” Thus the boy was separated from his parents and his home, and the little stream that he played beside, at once and for ever. He could never tell where was the home of his infancy; only he believed that it “was far away in the Yao country”. Sam’s story was much the same; and they both remember how glad they were when met by the white men who set them free. They had acquired a knowledge of the English language at Capetown, and had seen a great deal of civilised life there—perhaps a great deal too much. To these young men I had to look for instruction in the native tongue. I early recognised that I need not expect to do the people any good unless I could speak to them. During our voyage up the river I collected a few words and formed a scheme of the verb. But on attempting to make some use of this material I was told that the Blantyre people did not understand my Chinyasa because they spoke Yao. I felt as if the interpreter had been playing a practical joke upon me. Here I had a note-book filled with this Chinyasa, and I was now coolly told that it would be of no use! I began next to find that some Yao words were the same as their Chinyasa equivalents, and this made me reserve my manuscript with more hope.

[Illustration: NATIVE FEMALE (TRIBAL MARKS, TATOOS AND LIP RING).]

For some days after recovering from fever I was unable to walk to school, and I got Katunga, a big chief who came in to tell us about Doto Livisto (Dr. Livingstone), to point out the names of common objects as mountain, tree, &c. He laughed very heartily at my imitation of his words. In beginning to form a vocabulary, I took a Dictionary and went over it day after day with the interpreters, noting down all the native words I could find. I also wrote a translation of several passages of Scripture from their lips. But I found they often had difficulties. When I wished to translate the “Hail master” of Judas, they said that there was no word for “Hail,” but (referring to English salutations recently introduced) they assured me I would make nothing of it unless I said “Morning Master”. The “kissed him” was a similar puzzle. For _kiss_ they gave me one word which, as I afterwards discovered, meant _to bite_, and another which meant to _smell_! They could come no nearer the idea. No mother here kisses her child. One has only to look at the photograph of a native female to see that she cannot kiss.

Notwithstanding their residence at Cape Town these men were often unable to translate the most ordinary English into their own tongue, and yet they were better interpreters than any we could expect to train for several years. When I once tried hard to find a word for _guilty_, they could give nothing but the word _bad_. One gentleman said that they had occasionally been offenders in Cape Town. He was sure that if I followed the usual legal forms, and mentioned the sentence of working for a month at the docks, they had sufficient experience to tell me! But though I supposed cases as like this as I could without betraying the matter, I failed to get the information required. What I most deplored was that if these men had got the word in the middle of an address, it would have given them no trouble! From the translations I wrote down I afterwards formed a conception of how they would treat such an expression as, “His delight is in the Law of the Lord”. They would break it up into two sentences, of which the first would be “Light is low,” and the second some very unintelligible statement about God. I could not have believed that such nonsense was possible unless I had actually come into contact with it. The African interpreter who said, ‘The salvation of the soul is a great sack,’ is I fear quite an average specimen of his class. But this is due more to the difficulties of the English language than to any natural incapacity in the African. I have employed many to translate from one negro dialect to another and they could do this very well. The native congregations that listened to the interpreters must have been much puzzled at first. Once they heard an address on the healing of the leper—and every time the word ‘leper’ occurred it was rendered ‘leopard’.

When the magic lantern was used for the entertainment and instruction of the natives, they at first looked on with fear. When told “This is a man that lived long ago,” they actually thought that people were brought back from the dead. But soon they enjoyed seeing English people and English buildings. One day we showed them ‘the house of John Knox’. The interpreter of course had never before heard of such a man, but he was not the person to hesitate, and he said, “This is the house of John the Ox!” (John Ng’ombe).

Still in telling people how to hoe and to carry grass and on all ordinary occasions, the aid of interpreters was most useful. They were also much valued for their advice in difficulties that arose with the natives. They understood matters of this kind better than Europeans did. When I arrived they were just making ready to leave the country and their departure was a great loss to the Mission.

_School._—Next to the acquisition of the language came school work. This had formerly occupied about two hours in the forenoon, but I introduced an afternoon school. At first we felt teaching very hard, owing to the heat, and often we were almost fainting. But we succeeded in keeping our pupils interested. Had we possessed books in the native language we might have done much more good, for our pupils must have found it a hard task to read English. But in a short time we introduced a little of the African. One of my first attempts was to write out a simple English verse with a Yao translation. Mrs. Macdonald printed this in large letters, and in a short time the pupils could both read and sing,

“Set thou thy trust upon the Lord, And be thou doing good; For so thou in the land shalt dwell, And verily have food.”

When I asked which of the verses was best, Anyasa pupils said they liked the English, but the majority of the school preferred—

“Tululani mtima wenu Mulungu, Tendani yambone mowa gosepe Iyoyo somchitama muchilambo Mwambone somchikola yakulia.”

The words of this other verse were much longer, but they conveyed a meaning to the natives, while the English words conveyed none. Notwithstanding all that I could do with the interpreters, the translation would come out in eleven syllables. Now there was a puzzle to find a tune. It happens that a metre like this is common in Scottish songs, and we tried an adaptation of the “Flowers of the Forest,” which acted admirably. I never saw any melody tell so much on the natives. It actually brought tears to their eyes the first day we sang it. The harmonium was a great attraction in the school. The children seemed more amendable to music than their parents. The old folk were fond of coming to hear this wonderful instrument, but when something lively was played they frequently looked grave, while they were almost certain to laugh at a plaintive air! Only the great novelty of the instrument itself affected them so much at first, that they could not appreciate emotional effects. The pupils began to do a little arithmetic. The numerical system in central Africa is quinary. Hence the English notation puzzled them at first, but not so greatly as might have been expected. As natives seldom count, their own numerical system had not engaged their thoughts so much as to oppose the new one. In the Yao language there are three distinct methods of numeration. One of these calls in the aid of the human voice in order to bring out certain numerical distinctions, and would require a ventriloquist to do justice to it!

But it is high time to point out that the Minister himself had now gone to school, and to describe his progress thereat. Looking back upon this period I may now characterise it as follows:—First “half”—Darkness; Second “half”—Groping; Third “half”—Efforts at making a fire; Fourth “half”—Beginning to see the bystanders; Fifth “half”—Forming friendships; Sixth “half”—Instructing our friends; Seventh “half”—Farewells.

Chapter VIII.

First Half. July 1878-Dec. 1878.

_Weekly work._—On Sunday morning, I devoted my attention to the revisal of Yao discourses and prayers prepared during the previous week. The first discourse had to be given at nine o’clock in the morning. It was chiefly a translation of some passage of Scripture, with one or two remarks for the purpose of explaining or applying the subject. I stuck to the Scripture itself as much as possible. After this I prepared for our English service at two P.M., which was conducted after the method usual at home. Next I had to revise my Yao discourse for the evening service. Every week-day except Saturday I took the school from eight to ten, the last half hour being occupied with the more advanced pupils. At ten we breakfasted; and till two P.M. I was occupied with various items. A long time was spent over the language. There was a meeting for the natives every evening, and I required nearly the whole day to prepare for it, having not only to find words, but to verify their application. As the boys that assisted me could not speak a sentence of English, my task was difficult. I found it necessary to use signs, nor was it easy to devise suitable ones. After earnest endeavours I often failed to make the natives understand me. Then I practised my signals before a European, and he could not understand them either, and what was worse could suggest no improvement. I sometimes felt as helpless in my efforts to talk with a native before me as if I had been still in Scotland.

At two o’clock school was resumed till four. I had not much difficulty in sustaining the attention of a class of twenty-two, a fact which said much for the docility of the pupils. At four o’clock we dined, and after dinner I again prepared busily for the native meeting at six. At its close we had time for a short walk in what would be the twilight at home. We generally went to one or other of our three villages for the purpose of talking a little with the villagers, and making them feel at home with us. At seven P.M. we had evening prayers, and after that my time was free for linguistic studies. We proposed at first to have classes for mutual instruction in the native tongue, but it was soon felt that each man must study by himself before there could be any instructor. The language became the largest part of my work. The Scripture readings I gave took a great deal of time. I found it interesting work, and was always delighted to get hold of a new word. Occasionally I got words for which I could find no exact English equivalent, and in that case I had to construct a kind of mental formula. Sometimes I made best progress in translating the Old Testament, although I chiefly tried the Gospels.

The school-children, as a rule, are very agreeable with each other. I have seen few cases of strife, and these were easily quieted. The very fact of making a formal examination settled everything. In one case, where a little boy complained of a bigger one, I first instituted a long, solemn inquiry, to see whether the bigger one was to blame; when it was found that he was, he, rather to his astonishment, was sent out to bring a bamboo! Then followed a long dissertation on the bamboo, in which I pointed out how it would hurt and cut. By this time, the little boy had tears in his eyes, and said he did not wish the other one to be punished; which was the very effect I aimed at. But after a time this failed. On asking a boy whether he wished a companion beaten, I would often receive the answer, “I do not know, you, father, know best”. As girls came to the station, Mrs. Macdonald took them under her care, she had first to improve their habits and get them to wash their own clothes. Soap was a great novelty to the natives; they were much amused with the peculiar “feel” it gave to clothes. They thought it was a kind of clothes “medicine,” and trusted more to its magic than to their own rubbing. They used to dye their cloth black, a custom which made washing unnecessary. But after becoming acquainted with soap, men and women made a great rush upon the commodity, and notwithstanding every care in distributing, our six tins of soft soap were speedily reduced to two, and we had great anxiety as to what should be done when the two remaining tins shared the fate of their predecessors. The natives began to like the coloured clothes which were sent out. A box of clothes was a great acquisition. Shirts, trousers, and blankets were eagerly sought after, and some of the workers accepted these as payment in preference to calico, while our pupils regarded them as the best kind of prizes.

_Visiting._—On Saturday mornings, accompanied by a little boy, called Walani, I used to visit native villages. On these occasions I was much impressed with the African’s powers of observation. Once we had gone a great distance and were very tired. We came to a little hill, from the top of which we saw smoke, which guided us to a quiet little hamlet. As we were approaching, I wondered whether the villagers would know anything of the “white men” at all. Here they lived in a wild spot, apparently without communication with the rest of the world. I was surprised to find that at this distance (at least six miles), they at once called Walani by his name, and knew about all the Englishmen on the station. In such villages I endeavoured to speak about the God of heaven; and the people looked thoughtful, and were quite disposed to listen. The natives are by no means a stupid people, and I should not like to hear them called utter savages. Certain it is that had they been acquainted with writing and other contrivances, chiefly of a mechanical nature, they would have presented a very different appearance. They seem to stand before us as a people destitute of every religious observance. But this may be accounted for by their want of men set apart for religion. It is with them only what it might be with any people destitute of books, and without a form of church government. Besides, in judging the natives we ought to bear in mind how easy it is to proceed upon incomplete observation. The other day I made a discovery which surprised me very much. Though for three months I had been teaching girls to read, I did not know that they carried a number of little stones in the mouth! The other Europeans were equally ignorant of the custom. Still it is the fact that all the native girls carry from six to ten little pebbles under the tongue. They told me it was for the purpose of making them speak well! After this it would not astonish me to discover one day a complex ritual among the natives! Meanwhile, in their constant cheerfulness and kindness to each other, we find aspects of character that true religion would inculcate; nay, more, may we not see in these features of their disposition, some traces of the working of that πν