A Visit to the Indians in the Mountain Altitudes
By Fernando A. Stahl
[THE following report from Brother Stahl was written more than a year ago. It has just reached us, and although so belated, will be read with interest.—ED.] I HAVE been out a great deal answering urgent calls that have come in. The last part of August [1915], five Indians from the high mountain region of Sepita called on us and asked us to go with them and teach their people. I started out with them, and after three days' hard journey on horseback we reached the tops of the high mountains of Sepita, such a high elevation that the snow never entirely melts. Nothing grows up there except a very tough grass on which the llamas and alpacas live. It is by means of these animals that the Indians make a living. They sell their wool or trade it for foodstuffs. The Indians are all quite well off and lead an independent life. We held meetings with the people, and all were greatly interested. After one of our meetings an older Indian said, “How can we learn the right way without a teacher?” I treated from twenty to thirty sick persons every day, going from house to house. The people asked for a school. I told them if they would furnish the school building and a home for the teacher, we would send one of our more advanced Indian brethren as a teacher. A few weeks ago a messenger came to our mission to tell us they had the buildings ready and wanted the teacher. Returning to the mission, I received notice that the governor of a mountain town wanted me to call on him as soon as possible, so I started with three of our Indian brethren. The people in this place have the reputation of being very fanatical. On their feast days all the people are compelled to wear the same kind of clothes. As we neared the place, we learned that the town was engaged in a great drunken feast, so we decided to rest awhile and arrive later. We dismounted by the side of an ancient mining mill, which was near the road. As I went through those old ruins, I thought what an awful tale they could tell. It must have taken months of hard work to cut out those tremendous stone grinders. We have heard of the thousands of Indians whose lives were sacrificed in getting the gold for the Spaniards. As I stood, viewing the ruins of the mill and the ruins of the huts, it seemed to me I could see the hundreds of half-naked Indians bringing the quartz from the mountain a mile distant;10I could hear the curses of their masters and the fall of the cruel lash; and every now and then see a poor exhausted Indian fall beneath his heavy load. We do not know all that happened in those times, but we do know that thousands of Indians had to give up their lives in these mines, trying to satisfy the insatiable greed for gold. To this day one cannot get an Indian to reveal any of the rich veins of gold which still exist. He still fears that he would be compelled to do all the hard work, while some one else would reap all the benefits. As it neared sundown, we prepared to continue our journey, but just as we were about to mount, Brother Comacho's horse broke away and joined a group of wild horses on the plain. We spent some time capturing the horse, and then discovered that in the wild galloping, I had lost my field glass. We all turned out to look for my glass, but it was no easy task, the plain being covered with grass six inches high. Finally the darkness and a hard storm put a stop to our search for the day, and we decided to spend the night in an old hut on the plain. Brother Comacho bewailed the loss of the glass, saying it was his fault because he did not take better care of his horse. I told him, however, that he should not feel so bad, as no doubt the Lord had a purpose in the delay, and we would find the glass in the morning. We all felt that it would be better to reach the town in the morning, when everything would be quiet after the feast. Early the next day, after all had prayed that God would prosper our journey, and help us to find the field glass (for God does grant our requests even in small matters), we started out over the plain, and it was not long before Brother Comacho called out that he had found the glass. We then set out for the village, which was not far distant. As we entered the town, we met the governor, who had been on the lookout for us. He took us at once to his house, and we found him much interested in our work. He said he should like to have us take charge of their village school, place one of our teachers in it, and have the people taught the truth. He said he had taken note of our people in La Plateria, and they seemed so clean, humble, and honest that he wished all the people in his province might have the opportunity to learn to be the same. They would be worth so much more to their country, and it would be a pleasure to be among them. He said, “Now when I need help, or need to send a message somewhere, I can hardly find a man that is trustworthy.” He asked about our faith, and I spent some hours earnestly explaining to him the beautiful truth that the Lord had so graciously revealed to us. Dear brethren and sisters, this missionary work is not all hardship. To be a messenger in the hands of the living God, and the means of bringing this saving truth to people who are glad to hear it and accept it, repays one for all the inconvenience he may suffer at times. When I told the governor that our blessed Saviour was soon coming to this earth, to put an end to all sin and suffering, his face grew grave, and he said, “Would that all might know and believe this! Anything I can do to help you to bring this message to this people I shall do.”