Matabeleland, South Africa
By M. C. STURDEVANT
OCTOBER 7 I started with two of our young men, in search of a place to locate another out-station, taking my bicycle, though in this country much walking is necessary on account of sand and rocks. One of our older schools had closed, the people having moved away. The natives are fast leaving the towns and railroads, going back into the wilder regions, desiring to get away from the white man. The first night we stopped with Brother C. R. Sparrow, at Mkupuvula, a branch station twenty-two miles from our Solusi station. We found them well, and doing what they could to give the message to the people around them. Our school at their place, taught by one of our native teachers, is doing well. At break of day the morning of the eighth, we started down the Gwaai River, to Magama’s, the head chief of the natives in that region. We must get the chief’s consent before we can start a school among the natives. We arrived at Magama’s kraal (village) at midday, hot and tired. The chief was not at home, so we could see only his people. We told them our errand. My boys who had passed there the week before, had obtained the chief’s consent, so it did not matter so much, though I wished to see him myself, really to thank him and let him know I acknowledge him. I had been to him about three years before for the same thing, and was granted great favor by him. Knowing he was favorable to us and our work, we started on, after a little rest. We reached Mncibilika’s and Tjet-jani’s, the two chief indunas of the villages where we were going, just as the sun was going down. We had traveled that day thirty-five miles, and were ready for rest. After a little rest and lunch, we asked the indunas to call the people of near-by villages together, as we wished to talk to them about our errand. About twenty-five men, old and young, came together. As the boys had been by the week before, spying out the country, they had stopped here and prepared the way for us. I talked to them freely about our work and school, our desire to help them and their people. They responded by asking me many questions, such as, “Are you coming to get our land away from us?” “To make us pay a greater tax?” “Are you going to take our wives away from us?” At almost every place where the white men go (the traders), they take the daughters, and sometimes the wives of the natives, to be their wives, so called. A most shameful amount of this kind of work is carried on by the white men of this country; and the natives have come to dread the white men with all their hearts. And who can blame them? It is quickly seen by such questions, and others, that the native has become suspicious of the white face. This place is about fifty-five miles from our Solusi station. No teacher has been here. Coming along the road, we found the people all afraid of us. Another reason of their fear is because of the “dog law” of Rhodesia. The rabies is quite prevalent here among the dogs, therefore the law has been passed that every dog must be kept muzzled, or its owner is liable to a heavy fine or imprisonment, and even the loss of the dog. Few natives keep their dogs muzzled; so when they see the white man coming, they run in all directions to hide their dogs. This teaches the children to be afraid. On one occasion while coming down through the woods, we met a number of women and girls, and when they saw me, they fled like wild deer in all directions. I called to them in their own language, asking them what they were afraid of, telling them I was their teacher come to do them good, and not to be afraid. One woman stopped and drew near. As we passed on, she called to the rest, and we could hear them laughing at their fright. Nearly every place we went,16the people would flee in the same way. We are years behind in getting the gospel to this people. During the last five years I can see that their hearts have closed against receiving instruction. What we do for Africa, as in other places, must be done quickly. I found the same conditions farther to the north when I traveled there last June. If we do not begin work there soon, it will be almost impossible a little later. Conditions are not so favorable as they were four years ago. The government regulations are becoming more and more strict. I earnestly hope some plan will develop in the next few months, whereby we may be permitted to open up the work farther in the interior. We were permitted to start our out-school at this place, and two of our native teachers are there at work. The next day I returned home alone, sixty miles through the hot sun, sand, and woods. I stopped and rested at the Lushabi River one hour, where we have two native teachers. This school is about twelve miles from the mission. I arrived home at seven o’clock that evening. Our work at Solusi is onward. A young man, Brother Larsen, from Durban, Natal, is with us, helping in the school, and repairing about the place. Our school does not number quite so many as in the past, yet those who are here seem very earnest in their work. The church and Sabbath-school work holds the same. We have reached the time of the year for our spring rains to set in, so we are expecting any day now to begin planting. The little locusts are hatching out all around us, as the sand of the sea, and we do not know what this will yet mean to our crops. We are trusting the Father. Last year we were troubled very much, yet God gave us a crop, gave us food, though our crops were eaten down several times. We are hoping to put in two hundred twenty-five acres this year, which will enable us to provide food and clothing for our boys and girls. It is our purpose to make our mission as near self-supporting as possible. We are of good courage in the work, and have no thought of turning back. Our greatest wish is that others would come and join us in giving the gospel to this dear people. Pray for us.