Barotseland Mission, South Africa
By R. C. Porter
Arriving at midnight after a train ride of two and one-half days from Bulawayo, I was pleased to meet Brother J. R. Campbell and two of the mission boys, who were awaiting my arrival. With a cart and six oxen we set out for the mission, reaching it at 4:30 in the morning, where we were given a hearty welcome by Brother and Sister W. H. Anderson, Sister Campbell, and the students who remained to work during the vacation. Brother Campbell has become very proficient in the native language. He speaks it most accurately, and with as much ease and fluency as the best linguist among the natives. He is very successful in visiting the out-schools and in doing evangelistic work, as well as in his work at the main station. On Sunday afternoon, April 7, at 5 P. M., Elder and Sister Anderson and the writer, with three native boys, a span of eight Barotse oxen, a large two-wheeled English cart, and a riding mule, left the main station for a visit to some of the out-schools of this mission. We carried with us our camping effects and food for a week's outing. The first trek was about six miles. We then stopped for the night in a clump of bushes near a railway cottage, about a mile from Monza Siding. The fore part of the night was dark, as the moon did not rise until about 11 P. M. No sooner had we halted to outspan than our faithful watch-dog rushed a short distance into the darkness behind us, barking furiously, thus informing us that some wild animal was following us in close pursuit. Brother Anderson immediately directed the driver to crack the whip in that direction. This was done with much skill a half dozen times, and the clear ringing snap sounded on the still night air with such a warning as to check any further advances. The native boys proceeded to outspan, and I walked a few rods in advance into the darkness, viewing as best I could the surroundings in that direction. As I returned, the dog came rushing by me, barking as fiercely as before, and we knew that the pursuing animal had not been frightened away by the cracking of the whip, but was stalking us. Our lantern was lighted, and our native attendants gathered some dry branches and limbs of trees, and started two camp-fires as a protection from attack by the unknown wild beast. Our simple evening meal was soon over, and all prepared to retire early, as we had planned to start at three o'clock in the morning in order to drive while it was cool, it being exceedingly hot during the day. The oxen were tied to their trek-chains, one end of which was fastened to a tree near the cart, forming a circle. The mule was tied inside this circle, as lions have a special fondness for donkey or mule meat. Elder and Sister Anderson put down their bed in the cart; a duck-covered, folding, mosquito-proof cot was placed on the ground beside the cart for my comfort (and I wish to recommend this excellent device to all who travel in mosquito districts); the native boys threw their blankets down by the fire in American Indian style, wrapping themselves up in them; and we were just dozing off to sleep when the oxen suddenly jumped to their feet and gazed into the darkness, by which we knew that some animal was coming dangerously near our camp. The native boys soon revived the camp-fires, the oxen became quiet, and we were all fast asleep. At different times during the night the oxen suddenly jumped to their feet, warning us of approaching danger. Knowing that such conduct on their part was rarely seen unless a leopard or lion was approaching, we concluded that it was one of these that had awaited an opportunity for attack after the camp-fires had ceased to reveal their approach. When the moon arose, it in part supplied the protection afforded by a camp-fire, and with a careless presumption, the result of familiarity with such experiences on trek, our camp-fires were allowed to die out, and we slept. About three o'clock in the morning we were awakened by the proverbial Dutch morning salute on trek, "Opstaan, koffie drink, inspan, trek," from our superintendent. The English of the expression is, "Get up, drink your coffee, yoke up, and drive on." As we were not to breakfast until we had made a drive, we were soon on our way. The romance of trekking across country through the veldt, with grass eight feet high, and through the bush with no road but a native foot-path, crossing bridgeless drifts where the cart suddenly drops from two to four feet with a bump, then nearly upsets by running one wheel over an ant-heap, with the crack of the whip and the yell of the native driver ringing out in the night air to frighten away the wild beasts which may be crouching for their prey along the path, — this is very interesting to one taking the first trip; but the romance soon wears off in actual mission life, and it becomes wearing labor. The constant strain of alertness for the possible happenings, which often are not imaginary, wears on the nerves; and but for the extreme heat of the day, all this night experience would be willingly exchanged for day traveling. The natives do not travel through the lion-infested section of the country by night except as they accompany white men.