Read Ebook: Through lands that were dark Being a record of a year's missionary journey in Africa and Madagascar by Hawkins F H

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After leaving Port Elizabeth I had the privilege of paying a visit to two of the greatest Native Institutions in South Africa. At Healdtown, near Fort Beaufort, the Wesleyans are carrying on a great work in the training of Native Teachers. There are 185 boy and 84 girl boarders. The results obtained in the Government examinations are the best in the Colony. The students come from all parts; most of them are Kaffirs. The medium of instruction is English. This great work is mainly the result of the blessing of God upon the labours of one man, Principal R. F. Hornabrook, who is in supreme control. The Institution is nominally in charge of a Committee which, however, has not met for ten years. When he commenced work there twenty-two years ago there were thirty-three students. Mr. Hornabrook is his own architect and builder. He is also a farmer and a doctor. The fees charged are ?12 a year, and there is a large Government grant. Some small help is given by the Wesleyans in South Africa. Not a penny comes from England. The buildings are quite unambitious in character, and for the most part have been erected from the profits made from carrying on the Institution. The whole enterprise is a triumph of organisation. There are four white men teachers, three white lady teachers, two matrons and several coloured teachers. The course is three years, and the students must have passed the sixth standard before they enter. All have a little manual labour to do, but there is no industrial department except so far as it is necessary to teach woodwork. All sorts of difficulties have had to be surmounted, the chief physical one being the water-supply, which is now satisfactorily provided by a windmill. The whole Institution is a monument of what can be done by one man with comparatively small funds. Mr. Hornabrook is doing great things for South Africa.

From Healdtown I journeyed to Lovedale, the centre of the world-famed labours of Dr. James Stewart, who will always be known as "Stewart of Lovedale." This is an Institution carried on by the Free Church of Scotland. There are 550 boarders from all parts of South Africa, and of these 155 are girls. There is also a "practising school" with 210 children. The fees range from ?12 to ?16 a year. Since the Institution was commenced considerably over ?100,000 has been received in fees. Preachers and teachers for the South African Churches and schools are trained here. The industrial work is widely known. The Natives are taught carpentry, waggon-making, smith's work, printing, book-binding, boot and shoe making, office work, needle and laundry work, horticulture and many other industrial pursuits.

The present Principal is the Rev. James Henderson, formerly of the Nyasaland Mission. The Warden of the Boys' department is Dr. Moore Anderson, a son of Sir Robert Anderson, at one time Chief of the Metropolitan Police Force. On the staff there is the famous South African astronomer, Dr. Roberts. It was good to find the daughter of one of our present South African missionaries occupying a responsible position in the Girls' department. Words fail me to describe the great work which is being done. The Institution is an enduring memorial to the ability and devotion of Dr. Stewart. Over the grave of this great and good man, which I visited, is the simple inscription, "James Stewart, Missionary." On the hill-top is a huge stone monument erected to his memory.

In order to see at first-hand the conditions under which so many of the Bechuanaland Natives live in the Compounds of the great De Beers' Diamond Mines, I visited Kimberley. Dr. Mackenzie kindly took me over the diamond mine workings and one of the Compounds. From these mines the bulk of the world's supply of diamonds comes. I was very pleased with what I saw in the Compound I visited, where 4,762 natives were quartered. The annual death rate is only eight per thousand, about half that of London. Every provision is made for the comfort, health and well-being of the native workers. There is an admirable hospital and a well-organised store, where the necessaries of life are to be obtained at cost price. The fact that the natives are well cared for is evidenced by the popularity of the work in the Kimberley mines all over South Africa. Natives who have worked there return again and again for a further period. There can be no doubt that the restraint upon their liberty, to which they voluntarily submit while at work in the mines, is greatly to their advantage, and the facilities which exist for the remitting of wages to their families obviate, to a great extent, the risks they would run if they left the Compound with large sums of money in their possession. Nor are their spiritual needs neglected.

While at Kimberley I paid a visit to Barkly West, formerly a mission station of the Society for many years, associated with the name of William Ashton. From Kimberley I proceeded to Tiger Kloof. I shall refer to the great work which is being carried on there later in this narrative.

As one travelled through the Cape Province and visited many places, which were at one time stations of the Society in the charge of missionaries and entirely supported by funds from home, but are now independent Churches carrying on their own work, one realised the power of the growing Church in the lands which 100 years ago were in darkness. This province is still "A land of lights and shadows intervolved, a land of blazing sun and blackest night," and some of its portals are still "barred against the light." That light has for a century and more been beating up against "close-barred doors," but the missionary traveller looking down "the future's broadening way" sees many a sign that the time will surely come--

"When, like a swelling tide, The Word shall leap the barriers, and The Light Shall sweep the land; and Faith and Love and Hope Shall win for Christ this stronghold of the night."

The Light Spreading Northward

Kingdoms wide that sit in darkness, Grant them, Lord, Thy glorious light; And from eastern coast to western, May the morning chase the night.

WILLIAM WILLIAMS.

Up to this stage the narrative of travel has taken us through districts in which the London Missionary Society has laboured in days gone by. We shall now visit the stations where it is carrying on work at the present day.

Until quite recently the South Africa Mission of the L. M. S. might be described, from the point of view of means of locomotion, as "an Ox-waggon Mission." The days of the Ox-waggon are rapidly passing. This slow cumbersome means of conveyance, which was formerly almost universal throughout South Africa, is giving place to the Cape cart and the Railway. The change is symptomatic of the progress in the methods of work. Greater facilities of communication have revolutionized the conditions under which Missionary work is carried on. Missionaries are no longer isolated from their fellows as they were in the days of old. Until recently they were obliged to spend a considerable portion of their time in actual travel in the ox-waggon. Now they can get about rapidly and are able to cover much more ground and visit many more out-stations in a given period of time. I was enabled to visit the Society's stations in Bechuanaland and Matebeleland in one-fifth of the time which would have been necessary for such a visitation thirty years ago.

After a few days' stay at Tiger Kloof, the first place I visited was Vryburg, where the Rev. A. J. Wookey, the missionary in charge of the numerous scattered Churches of the Baralong tribe, resides. Vryburg is not in a true sense a station of the Society, but the headquarters for an extensive out-station work. After a stay of two days there, I journeyed with Mr. Wookey in a Cape cart drawn by four horses to Ganyesa, forty miles to the north-west. The growth of the work in the lifetime of a single missionary is well illustrated by what has happened at this place. When Mr. Wookey first visited it, forty-three years ago, two or three people met with him for worship in a hut there. A man read the Scriptures, and a woman led in prayer and preached. Now there is a good stone Church with 120 Church members, and an Anglo-vernacular school with seventy children. Connected with it are three branch churches and schools.

A short description of the visit to Ganyesa will serve to illustrate one's experience at many a country out-station in Bechuanaland and Matebeleland. I started from Vryburg at 7.10 and reached Ganyesa at 4.30, after out-spanning twice. We camped for the night on an open common, in the middle of a large Native Reserve, close to an ox-waggon which had brought two other missionaries, Mr. Helm and Mr. Haydon Lewis, to the place. On all sides stretched the illimitable veldt. There were very few trees, but almost all around the sky-line was broken by the conical thatched roofs of the Native huts. Close at hand were to be seen emaciated oxen returning from the almost dry watering-places in charge of little black herd-boys, who were nearly naked, their bodies glistening like polished ebony, and having an appearance which suggested that they had recently been black-leaded, and presenting a great contrast with the white of their eyes and of their perfect teeth. After my arrival I was visited by the schoolmaster and the deacons, and afterwards attended a concert in the Church, organised to raise funds to help to send a teacher to Tiger Kloof. The price of a ticket for the concert was 6d. The night was hot, and the Church was packed. In spite of the almost overpowering heat the doors and windows were kept closed, in order that the crowd outside should not enjoy the music for which they had not paid! The atmosphere within was beyond description. Evening meetings are almost unknown in Bechuanaland. Some antique lamps had been requisitioned, and the air was laden with the pungent smell of the lamp oil. The "Bouquet d'Afrique" was also strongly in evidence. The audience afforded a picturesque scene in the dim lamp light. Most of the women wore highly coloured head-dresses, and with their numerous babies sat on the floor, which was made of a mixture of sand and cow-dung. The rest of their dress was remarkable for its colour and variety. Many of the boys and men were in dilapidated European costume. There were 100 items on the programme, and the concert continued until the small hours of Sunday morning. I left before midnight, and slept on the ground underneath the bright penetrating stars. The darkness of the night was illuminated by flashes of summer lightning on the eastern horizon.

The following day, Sunday, will live in my memory. The service was announced to begin at eleven o'clock, but at ten o'clock the evangelist came to say that the chapel was already full, and forthwith the service commenced. The building was crowded to its utmost capacity, and there were large numbers of men, women and children sitting in the shade on the ground outside. I spoke to the people from a side-door in order that my words might be heard by the crowd inside and out. After the service I was visited by a large number of deacons and workers from the Churches for many miles round. Afterwards I went to see an old woman named Dipepeng in her kraal near by. She is over eighty years of age, and for a long time has not had the use of her legs. She sat in the entrance to her hut in the shadow of the over-hanging eaves, reading her Sechuana Bible. She told me she had been a servant to Dr. and Mrs. Moffat at Kuruman, and remembered David Livingstone courting Mary Moffat under the historic almond tree, and was present at their wedding. She described them, and spoke of an arbour in the garden where they used to sit. The old woman has been a Christian for sixty years, and is deeply interested in the Church at Ganyesa.

I visited the only European in the place, he being a store-keeper. In the afternoon there was a baptismal service, Sunday School, a sermon, and a crowded Communion Service conducted with great reverence. At the close the people all rose and sang, "God be with you till we meet again." At day-break on the following morning there was a prayer meeting. This was followed by the wedding of five couples, and a visit to the school. Later in the morning Mr. Wookey and I started on our return journey to Vryburg in the Cape cart.

Later in the week I journeyed by rail and cart to Taungs where Mr. McGee is the resident missionary. The Society has carried on work there for forty-five years, and although the Church membership in connection with Taungs and its out-stations is the largest connected with any L. M. S. Church in South Africa, the place was described quite recently by an experienced missionary as "a back-water of heathenism." The signs of heathenism are certainly very apparent. The Native Chief is a bad specimen of a Bechuana. Some of his headmen make themselves particularly hideous by a plentiful application of the contents of the blue-bag to their faces and heads. There are many evidences of superstition and heathenism, and yet there is another side to the picture. On the Sunday the spacious Church--which has recently been built by the tribe, heathen and Christian alike contributing--was crowded both morning and afternoon. Twenty infants and thirty adults were baptised. The scene from the platform was extremely picturesque. About half the congregation consisted of women, most of whom wore brilliantly coloured head-dresses, vivid yellows and startling pinks predominating. Many were clad in gaudy shawls. In the afternoon a solemn Communion Service was held, at which individual communion cups were used. The service was rendered the more impressive by the fact that a great thunderstorm broke before it closed. Looking through the great west doors of the Church at the beginning of the service one could see the wide-spreading veldt stretching away into the distance as far as the eye could reach, and looking dry and thirsty in the pitiless blaze of the afternoon sun. Then a kind of mist appeared on the horizon. It was a dust-storm approaching. The natives have a proverb which says that "God sweeps His land before He waters it." The clouds of dust came nearer, until at last all the doors had to be shut. The Church became dark. Then came claps of thunder, which made speaking difficult, while the dim interior was from time to time lit up with brilliant flashes of lightning. Then followed a downpour of heavy rain upon the galvanised iron roof, making a terrific noise. The storm increased in intensity until there was a perfect artillery of thunder, while the lightning was continuous and most vivid. In spite of the storm the service was continued in an orderly fashion, and the crowded congregation seemed perfectly oblivious to the hurricane raging outside. The service concluded with thanksgiving for the rain, for which the people had long been praying.

Taungs is the centre of a widespread district, in which there are twenty-three outstations regularly visited by the missionary. I visited one of them, called Manthe, nine miles away. That visit was impressed upon my memory by one of the appalling contrasts which are so common in heathen lands. Under an extemporised roof at the back of the evangelist's house I saw and talked with a bright Christian boy, the eldest son of the evangelist, by name Golekynie, who had been for seven years at Tiger Kloof. He was on the point of passing his third and final examination as a pupil-teacher, when, a month before, he had been compelled to return home in an advanced stage of consumption. He was lying on his bed in the open air. He spoke excellent English and had a refined face and manner, and was evidently an earnest Christian youth. He realised that he could not live long, and spoke with high appreciation of the happiness that had come into his life at Tiger Kloof. He told me that he was not afraid to die.

An hour afterwards I paid a visit to the Chief of the village, who was slowly dying of a loathsome disease in a wretched, evil-smelling native house. He lay on a dirty mattress with a coloured blanket over him. He was a heathen of a low type. Two of his wives and several children were on the verandah outside the open window. After Mr. McGee and I had left he sent to us to ask us to return to pray for him, the first time he had ever made a request for spiritual help.

From Taungs I proceeded to the historic station of Kuruman, accomplishing the journey of 143 miles by cart, rail, motor-car and ox-waggon. The contrast in the modes of travel is illustrated by the fact that the first seventy-seven miles occupied five hours, and the remaining sixty-six miles--which were travelled by ox-waggon--occupied three nights and two days. This journey helped to bring home the sparseness of the population. On Christmas Eve I travelled from early morning till late at night in the ox-waggon without seeing a single human habitation, or a single human being, except those who were accompanying me, and this not in the recesses of Central Africa but in British Bechuanaland, which is part of the Cape Province. I travelled in a new waggon recently made by the boys at Lovedale for the Kuruman station. It was drawn by fourteen oxen, kindly provided by the Church at Kuruman, with two supernumeraries in reserve in case of accidents. As travelling by ox-waggon is rapidly becoming a thing of the past, it is worth while attempting a short description of the journey. The waggon in which I travelled, although a new one, had no springs. The road was of a most primitive description, although the main thoroughfare between two important centres of population. The jolting and bumping defy description. The speed is nearly two miles an hour if all goes well. The discomfort of travelling is somewhat mitigated by the "cartel"--a wooden frame hung within the waggon by very short chains of three links. Across the frame are stretched "rims" or strips of undressed ox-hide about a quarter of an inch broad. When the waggon is at rest this makes a very comfortable bed, far more so than some of the beds of my experience in China, such as the boards of a Chinese chapel vestry, or the planks of a Chinese boat.

The oxen are outspanned about three times a day at places where there is water, or where they are likely to find some grass. No reins are used in driving, but the oxen are controlled by a very long whip which is used with great dexterity either by the driver from the front of the waggon or by his assistant walking alongside the oxen. These two men also act as cooks. A Christmas Day spent in these conditions will live in the memory.

I stayed in the Mission House built by Robert Moffat and Robert Hamilton eighty years ago. The whole place is rich with associations. It was here that David Livingstone courted Mary Moffat. The almond tree in the garden under which he proposed to her is still flourishing. Close by is the great Church, built by Moffat, and rich with many a memory. Next to it is the house where William Ashton lived for many years, which is now occupied by Mrs. Bevan Wookey, who is in charge of the excellent Mission School at Kuruman. Behind is the school and the old printing office. The garden is most fertile; oranges, lemons, quinces, mulberries, pears, apples, plums, apricots, peaches, pomegranates, walnuts, melons and richly-laden vines, abounding. For more than a quarter of a century the Rev. J. Tom Brown has carried on Missionary work at this station.

The great fact of the growing Christian Church in South Africa was abundantly emphasised on the Sunday of my stay at Kuruman. From outstations far and near the Christians came in for the Communion Service on the last Sunday of the year and for the New Year's meetings. In the morning some 1,500 gathered together for public worship, and three services were carried on simultaneously. Moffat's long, and somewhat dark Church, with its great wooden beams, was filled with a Sechuana-speaking congregation. The dimness of the Church was relieved by the orange, yellow, pink and blue of the dresses of the women. In the spacious school there was a crowded service for the Dutch-speaking natives and coloured people. In the yard of Mrs. Wookey's house there was a service, conducted by an evangelist, for the Damaras, a stalwart tribe of blackest hue. These people are refugees from German South-West Africa. In the afternoon all the Church members gathered together in the Church at a solemn Communion Service. A stranger will not soon forget the impressive quietness and reverence of the service as the bare-footed deacons moved noiselessly along the serried ranks of the great black crowd that was present.

The meetings on the following day were further evidence of the growing Church. A large gathering of Church members was held at which discussions took place on several subjects quite familiar to the Home Churches, many Natives joining in with great intelligence and earnestness. The Native Pastor at Kuruman, the Rev. Maphakela Lekalaka, an eloquent preacher, a capable minister, and a master of metaphor--known as the "Joseph Parker of Bechuanaland"--superintended the work of the station with ability and success during the absence of the Missionary on furlough.

At the conclusion of the journey from Kuruman I paid a short visit to Tiger Kloof and then proceeded north to visit the Matebeleland stations, in what is now known as Southern Rhodesia, taking three days' holiday to see the wonderful Victoria Falls and places of interest in Bulawayo and the neighbourhood. Every Britisher naturally associates Rhodesia with the name and work of Cecil Rhodes. His statue stands in a commanding position in Bulawayo. His grave in the rocky fastness of the Matopo Hills is an impressive monument to his memory. All round are immense blocks of granite piled up in fantastic shapes. Four groups of these granite boulders almost completely enclose a rocky surface about 30 yards square, in the centre of which there is a large untrimmed block of granite lying on the ground. On the top of this is a sheet of bronze about 10 feet by 4 feet and 2 inches thick, on which are deeply cut these words:--

"HERE LIE THE REMAINS OF CECIL JOHN RHODES."

There is no date. Close by on the slope of the hill there is a white marble rectangular monument, with bronze panels, commemorating Major Wilson and thirty-four men who laid down their lives in one of the Matebeleland wars. The inscription reads:

"TO BRAVE MEN."

Few people, perhaps, realise what Rhodesia owes to the lives and labours of L. M. S. Missionaries. When Cecil Rhodes was a youth of twenty Mr. Helm was establishing the Mission Station at Hope Fountain, 10 miles away from the present town of Bulawayo, which was then non-existent. Rhodes was always ready to acknowledge the value of the services rendered by Mr. Helm in his early pioneering days in the country which afterwards was named Southern Rhodesia. He was a constant visitor to Hope Fountain, and Mr. Helm often took part in his negotiations with Lobenguela, the blood-thirsty Matebele king. John Smith Moffat, the son of Dr. Moffat, at one time an L. M. S. Missionary, afterwards for many years a Government official, and always the friend of the Natives, played an important part in the establishment of British rule in Rhodesia. John Mackenzie, too, did a great work in this direction, and was ever a stalwart champion of the rights of the Natives.

Mr. Helm drove me from Bulawayo to Hope Fountain in a cart drawn by four mules, the two leaders rejoicing in the names of "Bella" and "Donna." At Hope Fountain the Society holds for the benefit of the Natives a farm upon which some 500 people are living. In Southern Rhodesia, outside the towns, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to carry on missionary work except on such farms or in Native Reserves. Throughout the country farms are being rapidly taken up by white farmers, and the Natives are steadily and inevitably being driven off the lands which they previously occupied into the great Native Reserves provided for them by the Government. Hope Fountain is the centre of some thirteen outstations, most of which are under the charge of resident evangelists. These men and many of the Native Christians came into the head-station to meet me. These small Churches form another example of the growing Native Christian Church of South Africa. The principles of self-support have been inculcated with such success that they raise for the support of their own Christian work a sum considerably in excess of that raised at any other station of the Society in the sub-continent.

At Hope Fountain, as in so many places in the Mission Field, one is reminded of the great and good men who have given their lives to the work in days gone by. In the cemetery there David Carnegie is buried, and his white stone tomb can be seen from the Mission House across the valley. His widow and family live at a house on the road between Hope Fountain and Bulawayo.

The next week of my travel was devoted to exploring one of the great Native Reserves above referred to. Mr. Helm drove me from Bulawayo to Inyati, the most northern station of the Society in South Africa, a journey of forty-five miles. Thence, accompanied by Mr. Cullen Reed and Mr. R. Lanning, the Native Commissioner, I paid a visit to the Shangani Reserve, which comprises a large tract of country situated about midway between Bulawayo and the Zambesi. This Reserve has been set apart by the authorities for the accommodation of Natives who have been driven off the land by the gradual settlement of white farmers. The expedition involved a cart journey over rough country of some 220 miles, some of it through virgin tropical forest across which the road consisted of little more than a track. For seven nights I slept on the ground near the great fires which were necessary to keep off lions and other beasts of prey. The experience was a delightful one in spite of a too abundant insect life which often proved troublesome. Mr. Lanning has a unique knowledge of the country and his experience of travel on the veldt added greatly to the comfort and the pleasure of the journey. Moreover, he is a keen hunter and kept the larder well supplied with fresh meat. The cart was drawn by six mules and we were accompanied by another cart which conveyed the Native servants, the luggage and the camp equipment. The interest of the journey was enhanced by meetings with Native chiefs and headmen at different places. They may be typified in the person of Tjakalisa, Lobenguela's third son, a fine specimen of the human race, standing over six feet high and every inch of him an aristocrat.

Clad in a vest and a short leather apron and some wire bracelets, he looked like the son of a king. Years ago he was nearly burnt to death in a tree in which he had taken refuge from a bush fire. David Carnegie treated him and saved his life. On another occasion he was out hunting with his father. His cartridges were several sizes too small for his gun. As fast as he put them in at the breech they fell out at the muzzle. Lobenguela insisted that he was bewitched, and this opinion was apparently confirmed when, on his shooting expedition, his horse took fright and threw him, breaking his leg into splinters. Mr. Helm came to the rescue and effected a complete cure.

Nowadays Tjakalisa has settled down in the Shangani as a farmer on a large scale. He has been known to realise as much as ?600 at one time on the sale of his produce. He came to discuss with us the question of the settlement of a resident missionary. He was accompanied by a fine old chief, Sivalo, who still wears one of the old Matebele iron circlets on the top of his head. I shall not soon forget the long morning spent in the blazing sun--in "the splendour, shadowless and broad," of a South African midsummer. Tjakalisa and Sivalo were attended by a score of headmen. They were eloquent in praise of their new country, which had not suffered from the terrible drought which has been afflicting so much of the sub-continent. They realise the benefits of elementary education and promised to support a school and to build a house for a teacher. They were filled with enthusiasm for the future of this promised land.

Later on the same night I was lying on my bed, consisting of leaves and grass and a rug, under the stars which were soon to be extinguished by the brilliant light of a South African full moon. A few yards away our black servants were sitting around the camp-fire. One of these was a Basuto who had passed some of his life in prison and was now a servant in the mission. Another was a black, curly-headed herd-boy from one of our mission stations. With them were some naked Matebele. Before I slept I heard the strains of a hymn in the native language, sung to a well-known tune. It was:

Jesus, still lead on, Till our rest be won; And, although the way be cheerless, We will follow, calm and fearless; Guide us by Thy hand To our Fatherland.

I fell asleep to dream of the African church of the future in this new fatherland of their race.

Already under the steady pressure of white settlement large numbers of Natives have been driven into this Reserve and month after month there are fresh arrivals. In the old days the L. M. S. was ever to the front as the pioneer Society in the evangelization of South Africa. In these days it is looking forward to establishing a new mission station in this Reserve, unless prevented by the great deficiency and the lukewarmness of the Home Churches.

From Shangani I returned to Inyati, the station where Mr. Bowen Rees has laboured so long and faithfully. He was away on furlough at the time of my visit. During my stay there I was reminded of some of the minor inconveniences--not to say dangers--of a missionary's life. One evening while we were sitting on the verandah a snake paid us a visit, while the next day a cobra was caught in the woodstack close at hand.

I inspected the school and attended a large gathering in the Church of Christians from Inyati and its outstations. Most of the adults squatted on the floor with their families around them. The naked babies tumbled over each other in their playful frolics, or slept on their mothers' backs while I was trying to speak to their parents.

From Tjimali I journeyed by cart to Dombodema, a long day's drive of fifty-eight miles. My experience that day illustrates one of the disadvantages of the new mode of travel in South Africa. I had been driven to the Marula Siding to catch the train for Plumtree, the station for Dombodema. On arrival there I found that on the previous day the time for the starting of the train had been put forward four hours without any notice whatever to the public or even the station master, and hence there was nothing for it but to drive the whole distance. On the way I was met by Mr. Cullen Reed, the Dombodema missionary, who has been at work there since the foundation of the station in 1895. Mr. Reed has to carry on his work in three languages and has to itinerate a parish of 3,000 square miles inhabited by 15,000 people. On each side of the Mission station are low picturesque kopjes. The day before I arrived Mr. Reed had killed a snake fifteen feet long in the garden.

Preachers, teachers and Christian workers had come in from the outstations for the meeting. Three of them had travelled all the way from Nekati, a distance of 150 miles. At this place Segkome Khama lives. He is the eldest son of Khama, the famous Chief of the Bamangwato tribe. For the Sunday service the Church was crowded, the congregation sitting on the floor, and some scores more finding seats under the shadow of a great fig tree outside the door. The Service was conducted in two languages. In the afternoon an impressive Communion Service was held.

On leaving Dombodema I proceeded south to Serowe, spending two days on the way at the British Residency, Francistown, as the guest of Major Daniel, the Assistant Commissioner for the Northern half of the Bechuanaland Protectorate. My visit to Serowe was one of my most interesting experiences in South Africa. Leaving Phalapye Road railway station at 3.20 a.m. in the faint light of the waning moon I started on the cart ride of thirty-five miles to Serowe. The cart was drawn by eight fine mules kindly put at my disposal by the Government. It was the dustiest ride I have ever experienced, in many places the road being several inches deep in sand and dust. The dust of the Plain of Chihli in North China makes an impression on the memory which it is not easy to forget, but the drive to Serowe was a more trying experience, because eight galloping mules travel much faster than the sorry beasts which draw the Peking carts of North China. About three miles from Serowe we saw a cloud of dust ahead and there emerged from it a company of horsemen whom Khama had sent to escort me. A mile further on the whole veldt seemed to be enveloped in a mighty dust-storm. When it reached us we stopped. Khama had come in person with some hundreds of horsemen. The old Chief sprang from his saddle like a man of 26 rather than a man of 76. He joined me in the cart and we renewed our drive. The horsemen galloped before and behind and on either side. The drivers thrashed their mules with two whips to force them to keep pace with the horsemen. A regular stampede ensued. Fresh detachments of Natives, all mounted on fine steeds, joined the cavalcade every two or three minutes. The Chief thoroughly enjoyed the fun and laughed heartily as the horses of the various members of our escort kept cannonading against one another in the mad rush.

Serowe, the largest Native town in South Africa, contains about 26,000 inhabitants, and is picturesquely situated. Mr. Jennings, the L. M. S. missionary, has carried on work there for upwards of ten years. It is a typical Bechuana town, having no streets but consisting of numerous collections of native huts within fenced kraals. The position of the Mission House is particularly striking, lying as it does between three great piles of rocks.

The town owes much of its importance to the fact that it is Khama's capital. This old Chief--the Jubilee of whose baptism was celebrated two years ago--is the most distinguished Native of South Africa. He is undoubtedly one of the busiest men in the world. He spends laborious days in the Kgotla--the great open-air meeting place of the tribe--dealing with all sorts of questions affecting his people, and acting as judge. Nothing concerning the life of the tribe is too minute for his careful attention. He knows all that happens and rules his people with a firm hand, exercising a benevolent despotism.

In a very true sense Khama is head of the Church as well as head of the State. He is most regular in his attendance at Sunday services and religious meetings. Under his leadership his people have just built a magnificent stone Church, on the foundation stone of which are inscribed these words:--

"THIS CHURCH WAS ERECTED TO THE GLORY OF GOD BY CHIEF KHAMA AND THE BAMANGWATO TRIBE."

Two great meetings in the Kgotla will live in my memory. At day-break on the morning after my arrival I attended a prayer meeting for rain. These meetings had been held for weeks. About 800 men and women were present in almost equal proportions. Most of the women sat upon the ground and the men on low chairs or stools which they brought with them. Khama sat on a deck chair under the shadow of a tree in the middle of one of the sides of the oval into which the people had grouped themselves. His young wife sat on his left hand. There was singing, reading and prayer. The Chief himself led the meeting in the final prayer, which lasted about five minutes. I am told he compared his country to a wilderness where there was no river, and his people to a lonely dog in the desert crying for water.

Another memorable meeting in the Kgotla was the Sunday morning service. Between 4,000 and 5,000 people assembled at 7 a.m., most of the men sitting on the right and the women on the left. The scene was a most picturesque one. The coloured head-dresses of the women were brilliant in the morning sunshine. Khama and his wife were present. A deacon with a fine voice led the singing, which was very hearty, and was unaccompanied by any instrument.

Many other gatherings were held during my visit to Serowe. I met deacons, Church members, catechumens, inquirers, Sunday School teachers, and other Christian workers. In several conversations with the Chief I found him to be deeply interested in Christian work in other parts of the world. He has the high spirits of a boy and told many yarns of hunting experiences. He had some interesting reminiscences of his meetings with David Livingstone to narrate. He told me that he remembered Livingstone visiting his father, Segkome, on three occasions. On the first and second of these visits Livingstone was riding on a hornless ox. On the third occasion he was travelling in an ox-waggon and came to Shoshong. "After that," Khama added, "he went beyond the Zambesi, and I never saw him again." Of his own accord he told me of Livingstone's encounter with the lion, and described the damage to the arm and told me he remembered hearing of the incident at the time.

Khama has two houses, one a spacious and well-built native hut, where he lives with his wife, Semane, who was trained at the L. M. S. School, and is a fine specimen of a Native Christian woman. She takes great interest in the work and often visits the schools and is a regular attendant at the services in the Kgotla. Khama's other residence is a European house, brick-built, with a verandah in front and containing four rooms. I visited him there, and was received in his sitting-room, which is about 18 feet square. The floor was covered with linoleum upon which was a Turkey carpet. There were two tables--one a large old-fashioned drawing-room table, on which stood a photograph of Earl Selborne in a silver frame and two other photographs, and the other a light folding table on which was a richly framed autograph photograph of Queen Victoria, which she had given to the Chief when he was in England in 1895. On this table also stood a very large blue enamel milk-pail full of milk and a bottle of vinegar. In the corner was an Address from the Serowe Chamber of Commerce on the occasion of the Jubilee of his baptism. On the walls were portraits of the late King Edward, Queen Alexandra, King George and other Royalties. He showed me a gold hunter watch he was wearing, which contained an inscription recording that it was presented to him by the Duke and Duchess of Connaught. He was very interested in political matters and was most anxious about the future of his people, being apprehensive that the Protectorate might one day be incorporated in the South Africa Union, and keenly desirous of preventing the occurrence of anything in the nature of such a catastrophe, as he deems it would be.

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