p. 14 | En Route to Malamulo Mission by Ina L. Austen

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 5, 1909

En Route to Malamulo Mission

By Ina L. Austen

INA L. AUSTEN

[For many years missionaries have steamed and gone from the United States to South Africa to enter upon work at the missions established in the interior. It is with much interest that we present in this department this week the report of Miss Ina L. Austen, telling of the departure of herself and sister from Cape Town to engage in mission work among the natives at Malamulo. No doubt this is but the beginning of South Africa’s sending missionaries trained at the college at the Cape into the great mission fields lying to the north. Such workers can prepare more quickly than others, as they understand, in a general way, the habits and customs of those for whom they go to labor.—Ed.]

MARCH 19 the writer and her sister Etta left Cape Town for the Malamulo Mission, Cholo, Nyassaland. It seemed a sweet part of the going to have so many dear friends at the dock to bid us “Godspeed.” As we put out to sea, two boat-loads, as though loath to part with us, came gliding along in speaking distance of the steamer, thus affording us the opportunity of conversing with them for fully twenty minutes longer.

Long shall the memory of this “good-by” cheer us in our work, for we know that these same friends will remember us before the throne of grace. Mingled feelings of joy and sorrow filled our hearts,—the sorrow which always exists when parting from those whom we love, and great joy that the Father should deem us worthy to bear his name, and the news of his soon-coming kingdom, to those who sit in heathen darkness.

Our hearts are filled with praise and thanksgiving to our Heavenly Father for all his goodness. Every step of the way has his loving, guiding hand been with us. Truly he sent his angel before to prepare the way, as will be seen in the following brief description of our journey:—

The sea was rough, as it usually is at the “Cape of Storms,” and most of the passengers suffered with seasickness, from which the writer was glad to be free. We were sorry to miss seeing Elder R. C. Porter at Port Elizabeth, at which place we arrived Saturday morning, spending a happy Sabbath with the friends at Uitenhage.

The next day we reached East London. The sick passengers drew a sigh of relief as we left the bounding seawater, and glided into this quiet river-basin. Some immediately got into boats, and rowed to the pretty island about three miles farther up the river. We were just as anxious to put some distance between ourselves and the steamer, so filling a small basket with fruit and rolls,—the loving thought of our Cape friends,—we boarded a tram, which soon brought us to the finest beach in South Africa. Here we paddled and wrote letters and enjoyed ourselves generally.

The next day was spent in sightseeing, and necessary shopping. An elderly gentleman came aboard here, in whom we were glad to discover an old friend of our parents. Tuesday afternoon our steamer anchored at Port Natal. We were much impressed with the fine physique of the natives in this tropical clime, and became greatly interested in the ’ricksha men. However, their fine faces—quite handsome in many—and noble stature seem out of place with their grotesque apparel of horns, feathers, and pampas grass, and their monkey antics. They can not speak English, so when trying to arrest the attention of a prospective passenger, they shake the ’ricksha, and utter sounds between their teeth; such as, “tiss, tiss, shu.”

We were able to put in two days and a half sightseeing, and found everything very novel and interesting. At the “Back Beach” in Durban is a fine bathing-place, which is prettily illuminated in the evening. We spent about an hour on the pier watching the bathers. The botanical gardens are well worth seeing; and the museum, although small, has some very good specimens.

The greater portion of our time was spent with friends at a beautifully situated home on the Berea, from which place we had a grand view of the town and surrounding country through a good telescope.

At this port a lady was put in to share our cabin. We were very glad to make her acquaintance, as she, together with her husband and three other missionaries, is on the way to Nyassaland,—another mark of the Lord’s leading.

At Delagoa Bay we spent five days; but the time in port seemed none too long. Lourenco Marques is essentially a Portuguese town. The native here, unlike the fine Zulu, is very inferior looking, and it takes two to run a ’ricksha, one pushing. We had some amusing experiences in trying to find our way about, for the Portuguese in this part of the world are exceedingly uncommunicative, and no deaf-and-dumb language, such as we were obliged to resort to, draws from them more than a shake of the head, or a shrug of the shoulders. However, we managed to see all there was to be seen in this rather picturesque, though exceedingly warm place, where mosquitoes abound. Every good-sized house has its large veranda, as well as its windows and doors, barred by wire netting, against this obnoxious little insect.