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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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 https://archive.org/details/visittowestafricOOhals 
 
Kamerun Stool Made from One Piece of Wood. 
 
A Visit to the West Africa Mission of 
 the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A. 
 
 “M’60/0,” “ M'Boulani,” were the words which greeted us as we 
 stepped on the rude wooden pier at Libreville, in Congo Francais, the 
 first of the stations of the West Africa Mission which it was our pleasure 
 to visit. “M’Bolo” was the African welcome which rang out from the 
 merry group of Mpongwe children who eagerly awaited our arrival. 
 Many thousand times we heard these words in our African travels as we 
 tarried in the busy town, or walked through the lonely forest, as we 
 approached the great mission garden at Elat, where hundreds of school 
 boys stopped their work and shouted out the now familiar word, or as 
 we sat in the quiet of the mission house at Efulen when some native 
 Christian who had journeyed from afar came to the door and in clear, 
 melodious voice cried “M’Bolo.” Whatever the root meaning of the 
 word, to us it meant “Welcome to Africa, we are glad to see you. May 
 you receive a blessing and give one beside.” 
 
 Under the leadership of the Mpongwe school children we started for 
 the mission house on the hill. We had gone but a few steps, when a 
 group of godly women gave us a hearty African handshake. One of 
 these good souls had been waiting many days to see us. The steamer 
 was ten days late. Each day she would come to the mission house and 
 ask, “Has Mr. Board come?” And now that “Mr. Board” was here, her 
 joy knew no bounds. As we passed through the towns we were im- 
 pressed with the goodly character of the houses. While small, they 
 seemed well built, with substantial doors and windows, and shutters 
 which could be closed at night. There was a general appearance of 
 industry and thrift in most striking contrast to many of the houses we 
 saw at Old Calabar, and at various other places along the coast. 
 
 BARAKA, as the Mission is called, probably because once here was 
 an old slave market (Barracoon), is situated on the brow of a hill about 
 one-quarter of a mile 
 from the beach. A row 
 of stately cocoanut 
 palms wave you a 
 true oriental welcome 
 as you enter the gate 
 and pass along the 
 well kept path leading 
 to the mission house. 
 
 This comfortable 
 dwelling, which for 
 more than a genera- 
 tion has sheltered the 
 Gaboon missionaries, 
 stands in the center of 
 twenty-three acres of woodland, while in close proximity and easy of ac- 
 cess are the school, the church and the dormitories for the school children. 
 
 The school is a necessary factor in all mission work and nowhere more 
 so than in Africa. “No race of purely Negro blood but accepts and 
 loses Christianity with great facility.” If Christianity is to become 
 
permanently rooted in a Negro race it is doubly necessary to begin with 
 the child and to train up an intelligent native Christian church, to whom 
 must eventually be entrusted the evangelization of the race. 
 
 The Fang school had closed before our arrival. In the Mpongwe 
 school were boys and 
 girls of all ages and 
 sizes, from the little 
 tots on the front row, 
 who, candor compels 
 me to state, were very 
 restless and more 
 eager to play than to 
 study, to the men 
 and women who were 
 straining every nerve 
 to master the multi- 
 plication table or to 
 solve the intricacies 
 of the French lan- 
 guage. The Bible 
 here, as elsewhere in 
 the Mission, is the 
 most important text- 
 book in the school. It may be true in America that the average youth 
 in school or college, though coming from a Christian home, is ignorant 
 of the simple facts of Bible history and story, but it is not true in 
 Africa. These Mpongwe boys and girls showed great familiarity with 
 the leading facts and incidents in both the Old and the New Testaments. 
 On Sunday at Sunday-school I heard teachers ask questions on the les- 
 son which required an accurate knowledge of the Scriptures to answer, 
 yet seemingly the answers came without the slightest hesitation. 
 
 At Benito I was given full permission by the superintendent of the 
 Sunday-school to review the school on the lessons of the last quarter. 
 The subject was Elijah. The school, which was in fact the church, 
 answered quickly, intelligently, and, as far as I could judge, accurately, 
 every question propounded. 
 
 At a meeting of the Presbytery, the examination of the candidates 
 for the ministry was equally satisfactory. The extent and fullness of 
 the knowledge of the Scriptures shown by these young men, who are 
 soon to be the leaders of the Presbyterian Church in Africa, was as 
 remarkable as it was gratifying. 
 
 The Mpongwe school, like all the schools in Africa, is not above the 
 primary grade. The teaching force is small, and it is difficult to classify 
 the pupils satisfactorily. I was greatly pleased, however, with the 
 progress manifested by the scholars in the various branches taught. 
 Most of the pupils live on the mission grounds in small houses dubbed 
 dormitories in which are hard dirt floors and beds made of bamboo. 
 Each pupil is required to work a certain number of hours a week and 
 pay in addition a small sum for tuition. This is the custom in all the 
 stations, and is a splendid training in self-reliance and independence, a 
 most necessary part of the education of the African youth. 
 
 One of the grave difficulties connected with both school and church 
 work at Baraka, and in fact all along the coast, is the large number of 
 distinct tribes speaking different dialects. In addition to Mpongwe 
 
 4 
 
and the Fang, there are among other dialects the Shekani, the Balungi, 
 M’benga, Bakele, Aduma and Ajumba. The mission educator is also 
 sorely tried by the lack of regularity in attendance and the early age at 
 which most of the scholars leave the school. One of the Baraka boys 
 not long since accepted a position in the government office at what was 
 to him the princely salary of $8.00 per month. His work was copying. 
 He wrote a beautiful hand, but he was so inaccurate and careless that 
 he was soon discharged. All the arguments of the teacher could not 
 persuade the boy to remain at least two years more in the school before 
 taking a position. His case is typical. “A little knowledge is a danger- 
 ous thing.” To the African very dangerous, for he is satisfied with it. 
 Neither the parent nor the scholar realize the necessity of any continued 
 training. The race has had no experience nor discipline. Large results 
 cannot be expected from any of the mission schools in Africa, either in 
 candidates for the ministry or in leaders in great advance enterprises, 
 until some means has been adopted whereby the scholar will be com- 
 pelled to remain at school for a definite period. The Mission recognizes 
 this, and at the mission meeting held at Batanga (February, 1905), 
 action was taken looking to the establishment of an industrial school 
 and a school for the training of Christian workers at Elat. To these 
 schools scholars from all the stations will be admitted provided they 
 show sufficient diligence in the primary school at their respective stations, 
 and are willing to remain at the school for a definite period, to be deter- 
 mined upon by the missionary. It is hoped that the incentive thus 
 offered will spur many a pupil on to desire the better thing, which can 
 only be obtained by years of painstaking application. 
 
 The evangelistic value of school work is shown in the fact that nearly 
 if not quite all the leading members of the Baraka Church to-day were 
 at one time scholars of the Mpongwe school. The Fang school is also a 
 great evangelistic agency. The scholars come from Fang towns distant 
 thirty, forty, sixty and even eighty miles from Baraka. Five or six or 
 seven months spent 
 under the direct 
 teaching and personal 
 influence of the mis- 
 sionary leave an in- 
 delible impression on 
 the mind and heart 
 and life. The Fang 
 boy when he first en- 
 ters the school is a 
 rough specimen of 
 African humanity. 
 
 A wonderful change 
 takes place in a few 
 months. It was not 
 difficult for me to pick 
 out , in the F ang towns 
 we visited, the school 
 boys. The school 
 work evidenced itself in their faces. Of the thirty Fang boys and four 
 girls in the school last year, twenty-four expressed a desire to confess 
 Christ and were given special training in an inquiry class. For a num- 
 ber of years the Fang school has averaged fifty or sixty scholars, all 
 
 5 
 
of whom have gone back to their towns, carrying with them some Gospel 
 light. One of the open doors to the Fang is the school boy. He was 
 the first to bid us welcome, sighting the boat long before we reached 
 the beach, and he was the last to bid us farewell as we sailed away. 
 
 A few months ago a Fang 
 living on the Rembwe was 
 passing a house where lived a 
 Christian Mpongwe woman. 
 
 This woman had been a school 
 girl at Baraka. She was read- 
 ing aloud the Bible. The 
 Fang remembered to have 
 heard this read when he was 
 a boy. He came to Baraka 
 and asked for a teacher to be 
 sent to his town. This is sug- 
 gestive. All Fang boys who 
 hear the Gospel do not be- 
 come evangelists. Some fall 
 away and return to heathen darkness, but the way to the Fang lies 
 along the road which leads to the school. 
 
 The girls are not neglected. While it is not possible to gather as 
 many girls as boys, still they come in goodly numbers. In addition to 
 the regular school studies they are taught to sew, to cook and to do 
 laundry work. We saw the pretty work done by the Mpongwe girls — 
 a pillow cover especially attracting my attention — more than two hun- 
 dred garments made by their busy fingers. 
 
 The missionary in Africa is at it all the time. In the evening of our 
 first day in Africa, which had been a busy one, we were hurried off to a 
 prayer meeting. I should call it an old-fashioned cottage prayer meet- 
 ing. The rain descended in torrents, pools of water were everywhere 
 in evidence, but the African Christian was not deterred by such trifles. 
 
 The meeting was held in 
 a private house some dis- 
 tance away ; the room was 
 full, many standing out- 
 side on the porch. The 
 leader was a godly sister 
 in Israel, one of the “first 
 fruits” mentioned by the 
 Rev. R. H. Nassau, D.D., 
 in his “Crowned in Palm 
 Land.” The service was 
 simple, no cant, no striv- 
 ing after effect, no notice 
 of the stranger within the 
 gates. It was an earnest, 
 spiritual meeting. Now 
 it was an old man who 
 prayed. “ David, Samuel, 
 Paul, Christ,” I could recognize these names as my aged bro they poured 
 out his petition in an unknown tongue. Now it was a young man who 
 spoke. He was brief, he was earnest, he was sincere. He turned often 
 to the Bible. Now a sister gave out a hymn or spoke a very few words 
 
 Mpongwe Mission Boys , Baraka. 
 
 6 
 
or prayed. The hour glided by quickly with no pauses. A hearty greet- 
 ing, wraps on, and out we go into the stormy night. This work goes on 
 week by week in the different homes, not always in the homes of be- 
 lievers, for unbelievers also open the door of their homes to the mission- 
 ary. It is seed sown on good ground. 
 
 One afternoon the wife of a missionary took me to a mothers’ meet- 
 ing. Women with their work, with their babies, with their careworn 
 faces, came to hear the Word. Another afternoon I attended a cate- 
 chetical class where those who wish to join the church are trained, rooted 
 and grounded in the truth. A look at their faces in the photograph will 
 convince you of their earnestness and intelligence. The catechetical 
 class is a return to the custom of the early Church that might well be 
 heeded by Christians of the homeland. 
 
 Group of Christian Women , Libreville. 
 
 Another day we sat in the training class for Christian workers and 
 learned how thorough is the training given and how inexhaustible is the 
 supply of patience of the missionary teacher. In each case the mission- 
 ary, while leading and asking the questions, compelled the pupils to do 
 the work. It was teaching, not preaching. 
 
 The Lord's Day was the great day of the feast. The church was 
 crowded with a well dressed, devout, earnest body of workers. It is the 
 best organized church in the Mission. Great was my surprise when the 
 offering was taken to note so many envelopes on the plate. At Creek- 
 town, Old Calabar, we had attended the service and the offering was 
 taken in boxes, three feet long by two feet wide. The money consisted 
 of manillas, horseshoe rings of iron, or brass rods one yard in length, or 
 cheatems (bunches of wire), this being the currency most common 
 among the natives of Creektown. Among the Fang, spearheads 
 answer for money. While I knew the Gaboon church had made great 
 advance, I was hardly prepared to see collection plates heaped up with 
 
 7 
 
envelopes and brought to the pulpit by the native church officials with 
 the dignity and solemnity befitting an act of worship, and in striking 
 contrast to what I have often noted in many churches at home. The 
 membership of this church is 107. During the year 1904 there were 
 
 ninety-six regular contribu- 
 tors by envelope, twenty-four 
 of these having of their own 
 accord increased the amount 
 of their offerings. By means 
 of faithful and systematic 
 training on ‘ ‘ giving as an act 
 of worship,” this Mpongwe 
 church now pays all its own 
 expenses, supports a helper in 
 the Fang field and contributes 
 to other religious objects. The 
 amount of money raised is 
 very large ($176.00 in 1904) 
 considering the income of the 
 average member. It illus- 
 trates what can be done in 
 Africa or America by trans- 
 forming the “collection” into 
 
 A Catechetical Class , Libreville , and Native Licentiate. offering to the Lord as 
 
 an act of worship and as a 
 necessary factor in the growth of the individual Christian. 
 
 The number of the Mpongwe people is small. The tribe, however, 
 “is the most influential from Kamerun to the Congo.” The Baraka 
 church has a great 
 work before it. A 
 town not far away, 
 in which twenty-four 
 persons had expressed 
 a desire to become 
 Christians, sent to the 
 Baraka church asking 
 that a missionary be 
 given them. No white 
 missionary had ever 
 visited this town. In 
 the school last year 
 was one boy from the 
 most wicked of all the 
 tribes in the Gaboon 
 region. An effort will 
 
 be made this year to Native Money, Neck Bings, Ivory Bracelets , etc. 
 
 secure more boys from 
 
 this tribe, and thus open the way for the Gospel. The foreign mission 
 work lies at the front door of the Baraka Christian. 
 
 In addition to the church at Baraka, there is the Ayol church among 
 the Fang. Ayol is some sixty miles from Baraka, and is situated in the 
 midst of the Fang territory. The Fang are scattered over a wide extent 
 
 8 
 
of territory and probably are very numerous, although there has been 
 little exploration in the interior either by the missionary or the trader. 
 Miss Kingsley, in her book, “Travels in West Africa,” gives some inter- 
 esting data about the Fang. They are still largely an unknown people. 
 The Roman Catholic Mission is the only body of Christians besides the 
 Presbyterians at work among them. A few years ago they were canni- 
 bals, and even now it is said that a short distance back from the river 
 front in the dark forest, many forms of cruelties are practised by them. 
 The only roads to the Fang towns thus far visited by our missionaries 
 are water ways. The gift a few years ago of the launch “Dorothy” 
 made it possible for the missionaries at Baraka to reach the Fang in the 
 towns along the Gaboon, Nkomo, Ayol, Gungwe and other rivers. 
 
 Atrip on the “ Dorothy,” while full of interest, giving a bird’s-eye 
 view of the work, makes it apparent that this large field has only been 
 partially tilled by the missionaries of the Board. For the past six years 
 only one missionary has been at work among this very large and impor- 
 tant people, and for many years previous the work was almost entirely 
 neglected. 
 
 A TRIP ON THE “DOROTHY.” 
 
 The “ Dorothy” is a naphtha launch thirty feet long and draws three 
 feet of water. 
 
 On the morning we started on our trip on the “Dorothy” we first 
 stepped very carefully into a small canoe which was lying in the water 
 by the beach. The African canoe is made out of a tree. The boat 
 builder will go into the forest and cut down a large tree. He will then 
 saw off as much of the trunk as he needs for his canoe, usually about 
 twenty feet. With a very rough axe and knife he digs out the tree and 
 smooths the sides until he has quite a good boat. But your hair must 
 be parted in the middle and you must sit in the bottom of the canoe 
 or you will upset the frail craft. Two boatmen paddled our canoe on 
 the morning that we started on our “Trip on the Dorothy.” 
 
 We were soon aboard and found the “Dorothy” a snug little craft. 
 The naphtha engine is at the stern. There is a small room between 
 the engine-room and the main and only cabin. This room is only a few 
 feet wide. Two doors open into the engine-room and two into the cabin. 
 In this room on one side is a small kerosene cooking stove; on the other 
 side is a wash basin which can be closed and fastened to the wall when 
 not in use. Next this is the cabin. At the upper end of the cabin near 
 the bow is the wheel. On either side are nice long seats with cushions, 
 while at the lower end are two closets filled with crockery, glassware, 
 knives and forks. A roof covers both the cabin, the little room and 
 the engine-room. Many bundles and packages can be put on this roof, 
 and at evening it is a very pleasant place to sit and watch the fish jump- 
 ing out of the water or gaze at the people in the towns along the rivers. 
 
 In the cabin is the picture of a little girl, Dorothy. She lived in 
 Orange, New Jersey, and was much loved by her parents, but God 
 thought it wise to take her to Himself. Her father and mother gave the 
 launch to the Board of Foreign Missions, and in memory of their dear 
 little daughter it was called “Dorothy.” 
 
 It did not take us long to hoist the anchor of the “Dorothy.” Our 
 three boatmen tugged away at it and soon pulled it out of the water. 
 
 9 
 
These three men were curiously dressed, no hats, no shoes, no stockings. 
 
 One of them had a cloth about his body that looked for all the world 
 like an old patch-work quilt. It had red and white and blue squares 
 just like a patch-work quilt. Another wore only a blue blouse which 
 came to his knees, 
 and the third had 
 a blue cloth about 
 his waist and a 
 worsted shirt. 
 
 Two of these men 
 were Christians 
 and at the meet- 
 ings we held in 
 the various towns 
 they aided us by 
 singing and pray- 
 ing, and one of 
 them interpreted 
 for me. 
 
 “ Thump, 
 thump, thump,” 
 went our little 
 engine, and the Dorothy. 
 
 “Dorothy” was soon pushing her way through the water. The sketch 
 map will show you just where we went. 
 
 The town of Libreville is in the county or district of Gaboon. You 
 will notice on the map the name “ Libreville.” We started at Libreville, 
 which is in the bay or estuary of Gaboon, and this leads into the Gaboon 
 River. We went past “ Parrot” Island and turned into the Ayol River 
 to Ayol. Then we went back to the Gaboon River and sailed many miles 
 till we came to where the Nkomo and Bakwe’ Rivers meet the Gaboon. 
 We sailed up the Nkomo River to Atakama. From there through a 
 small creek we went to the Bakwe’ River. Then back again to the 
 Gaboon and a long way down to the Gungwe’ River. From here we 
 sailed into the Gaboon and retraced our way to our place of starting, 
 Libreville. We saw all the towns placed on the map and many more 
 besides. It was our privilege to hold services at several of these towns 
 and to meet the Christian people who live there. We saw much to 
 interest us and were most pleased to find such a strong body of Chris- 
 tians in this part of the mission field of the Presbyterian Church. 
 
 We had traveled only a few miles when far away, close to the shore, 
 beyond Parrot Island, we saw what seemed to be a row of white sol- 
 diers. As the “Dorothy” drew nearer we found they were not soldiers 
 at all but “cranes.” I have seen a few of them in the Zoological Gar- 
 dens at Bronx Park, New York City, but this day I counted no less 
 than thirty-six, all standing in a row, busily engaged in “fishing.” 
 Near them were a few “pelicans.” The sun was shining brightly as 
 we sailed by these birds and their white feathers shone most beautifully 
 in the sunlight. 
 
 In the rivers there was much to attract our attention. I saw on a 
 tree twenty feet from the ground a large ant nest. The nest was made 
 of earth, every particle of w T hich was carried by the ants up the twenty 
 feet. The nest was at least two or three feet in thickness. Africa is a 
 land of ants. Every time we went ashore we saw hundreds of ants. 
 
 10 
 
Sometimes so many of them come into the house that the missionary has 
 to leave it. The ants go into every room and eat every bug, fly, 
 insect or even little kittens. In one missionary’s house the “driver” 
 ants — a small ant with two sharp horns near the top of the head — 
 killed a number of little kittens. We saw thousands of these “driver” 
 ants in the various Fang towns we visited. They march along like 
 regiments of soldiers, each little band of ten or more having a captain 
 who directs them where to go. The people are very careful to step over 
 these ants and not on them. We were not troubled with the driver ants 
 while in the Gaboon district, but at Efulen, one night after we had gone 
 to bed, the ants invaded the bark house where we slept. They came in 
 through the windows in vast numbers. The missionary, his wife and 
 two children and ourselves were compelled by these pesky little creatures 
 to leave the house. In the morning when we went back not one of them 
 was to be found. They had gone through the house, driving out every 
 insect, and eating up everything they could find. The missionaries con- 
 sider them in the light of a blessing, for they clear the house of all 
 insect life. 
 
 One evening the “ Dorothy” took us into a narrow creek. The limbs 
 of the trees and bushes on either sides scraped the sides of the boat. 
 
 There were mangrove trees whose limbs bent over into the water and 
 took root. On many of these limbs we saw oysters growing. Yes, 
 oysters growing on trees ! These oysters are small and grow close 
 together on the limbs, both in the water and out of the water. As we 
 landed on the muddy shore that evening any number of small crabs 
 ran away from us into their holes, and a number of walking fish were seen. 
 It seems strange to see fish walk in the mud. 
 
 We were soon in the town, which was quite large, having more than 
 
 ii 
 
sixty houses. Most of the towns do not have over twenty. This town 
 was what the Africans call “a large town.” It had two streets; many 
 of the towns have but one. It had a large “palaver house” in the 
 middle of the main street. Here the people gather to discuss all sub- 
 jects in which they are interested. Every town has a palaver house. 
 When the missionary led the way through the palaver house he put 
 his hands together and shouted “Ha, ha, ha, he. he, he, eh, eh, eh.” 
 The men in the house also shouted “ eh, eh, eh,” etc. Then the missionary 
 said “M’bolo.” 
 
 We did not hold the meeting in the palaver house but went to 
 the house of one of the Christians. His house was built of bamboo 
 with a palm mat roof. Only two rooms, but everything was clean and 
 neat. This house, like all the houses here, was small, and many of the 
 people had to stand outside during the meeting. The name of the 
 Christian in whose house we held the service was Robbie Board man. 
 He is blind. More than twelve years ago he was led to take Christ as 
 his Saviour. He was then a bad man. He 
 did many wicked things, but when he be- 
 came a Christian his heart was changed. 
 
 He desired to tell others about Jesus. He 
 went to school. Some good people taught 
 him to read by means of raised letters such 
 as blind people use. He has now many 
 books of the Bible in raised letters. A few 
 months ago the white ants ate up a number 
 of his books, but kind friends have prom- 
 ised to give new ones to him. The white 
 ant is very destructive. At Gaboon and 
 at Lolodorf I saw great beams which had 
 been ruined by white ants. At Old Calabar 
 we saw a white ant hill more than ten feet 
 high. Within this hill lives the queen ant, 
 the mother of many millions. 
 
 Robbie has a very kindly face. I wish 
 you could see him as he sings or prays or 
 preaches. I asked him what chapter in 
 the Bible he loved the best and he said “the eleventh of Hebrews.” 
 He has also some favorite verses, such as John the third chapter and 
 sixteenth verse and John the fourteenth chapter, first and second 
 verses. His favorite hymn is 
 
 “Jesus, the very thought of Thee 
 With sweetness fills my breast ; 
 But sweeter far thy face to see 
 And on thy bosom rest.” 
 
 Robbie repeated these words to me in English and they never seemed 
 so beautiful. He will see no faces in this world, but in the many 
 mansioned home he will one day see “ Him face to face.” Even now he 
 joyfully sings with us, “I shall see Him face to face, And tell the story, 
 saved by grace.” He knows nearly all the New Testament by heart. 
 We have a little hymn book in the Fang language. Robbie knows all 
 the verses of the hymns and the numbers as well. He needs no book 
 
 12 
 
to lead a meeting. The hymns are the same as we sing at home only the 
 words are in the Fang language. One of the hymns we sang was “He 
 leadeth me.” This is the chorus as we sang it: 
 
 “ A bi me wo, a ke ye me, 
 
 Nde nzam’ emien a ke ye me ! 
 M’e’ mbete vot, me* mbete to 
 Ye nzam’ emien a ke ye me.” 
 
 The people love to sing and they sing well. Not being able to read 
 it is necessary that some one should teach them. This is Robbie’s 
 work. He spends two or more months in each town. In the morning 
 he teaches the people the Bible and in the evening, hymns. Those who 
 are Christians are very eager to learn and Robbie is a faithful, patient 
 teacher. 
 
 The Fang people who live in the towns we visited were very ignorant 
 and very poor. At the service it was pleasant to hear them repeat the 
 Lord’s Prayer in their own language, and to note how many verses of the 
 hymns they knew. We have a Fang school at Baraka, and in many of 
 the towns we were warmly greeted by our school boys. One boy took 
 me by the hand and led me to the little hut where his mother lived. 
 She was a funny little woman, with her hair all covered with red clay, 
 her neck adorned with pink beads, a red cloth about her waist and brass 
 rings on her arms and legs. But she smiled pleasantly when her son 
 told her who I was and she bowed and said “ M’bolo ” when we w T ent away. 
 The house where our school boy lived had only one room, no chair, no 
 table, only two beds made of bamboo, an iron pot to cook the food 
 and a bow and arrow used in hunting. In one corner was a large bunch 
 of plantains. 
 
 Each Fang town has a head man or chief. He rules the town. Out- 
 side of each town is a garden where plantains grow, and bananas, 
 cocoa, coffee, bread-fruit, cocoanuts and other fruits and vegetables. 
 The headman would often send us some plantains or bananas, and we 
 would send him a piece of cloth, red or pink or yellow. Once a man 
 gave us some fish and we gave him a box of matches and a bottle of 
 pomade. They need matches, and are very fond of rubbing the pomade 
 on their hair. 
 
 We slept on board the “Dorothy” every night of the trip. Under 
 the seats in the cabin were closets where bed clothes were kept We 
 also had extra boards to draw out, making the seat wider. The cushions 
 were put on these boards, then the bed clothes, then curtains were hung 
 to keep out mosquitoes, and we went to bed and slept as soundly as 
 though we were at home in America. 
 
 One morning we were awakened very early by a loud noise. We 
 looked off toward the shore and there was the home of hundreds of 
 parrots. They were up bright and early before the sun and there was 
 no more sleep that morning. Several hundred parrots make a noise like a 
 railroad train and they keep it up for a long time. 
 
 Some days the engine of the “Dorothy” would not work. Then the 
 missionary physician would become a fireman or engineer or mechanic 
 or electrician, and work away at the engine or the electrical battery till 
 the “thump, thump, thump ” would begin and we would go on our way. 
 A missionary in Africa has to do many things for the sake of Christ that 
 
 13 
 
are not at all pleasant, but the good missionary does not complain 
 because all the time he sees that the people are learning about Jesus. 
 
 At times we would sail many hours and not see a single town. The 
 scenery was grand. Very tall trees covered with great vines that seemed 
 to clasp the trees in their embrace, great umbrella trees that looked 
 for all the world like a big 
 umbrella opened to keep off 
 the rain, beautiful palm trees 
 that made us think we were 
 in the Holy Land , rare flowers 
 of many colors and some very 
 fragrant, and all so wild and 
 green and luxuriant that 
 Africa seemed a most fair 
 land. Then we would stop 
 at a town and see poor hea- 
 then women with hardly a 
 bit of clothing dancing a 
 strange, wicked dance, while 
 a man stood by beating a 
 great drum. Such hideous 
 noises the dancers made, such 
 fierce looks out of their eyes, 
 such evidence of awful sin 
 that we said, “Africa may 
 be beautiful but here men 
 and women are vile.” We 
 longed to tell these poor peo- 
 ple the story of Jesus. They 
 are so superstitious! They 
 wear little horns on their 
 necks or a bit of a bone on 
 their arm, or keep the skull 
 of a father or a mother in their hut, believing that by doing this they 
 can obtain the favor of God or ward off some evil from the devil. 
 
 The saddest faces we saw were those of the women and little girls. 
 The poor women and girls are sold just as the goats and chickens are sold. 
 I asked one of our Christian boatmen what was the price of a woman in 
 his town. He said when a man wanted a wife he bought her from her 
 father or brother, or the head man of the town, or whoever owned her. 
 The woman could do nothing. She was sold at the price her owner asked. 
 The women do most of the work. We saw them early in the morning 
 carrying heavy loads, and often in addition a baby strapped to their 
 backs We saw them hard at work in the gardens in the hot part of the 
 day; we saw them at evening go out with their fish nets or baskets to 
 catch fish. The husbands, meanwhile, were lazily smoking their pipes 
 or lounging in the palaver house talking, or when not too weary, 
 hunting birds or animals, which when caught the wife had to cook and 
 rarely was given any to eat. Their faces were very sad, and no wonder. 
 Even little girls not over ten or twelve years of age are sold by their 
 parents or brothers. The father needs money. A man comes and 
 offers him a small sum for his daughter and he sells her for life to one 
 who may be a cruel man. She now belongs to him and he can sell her 
 whenever he so desires. This is the lot of women and girls in all the Fang 
 
 As Seen from the “ Dorothy a Fang Tillage. 
 
 14 
 
towns in Africa. Here is the price paid for a woman as told me by one 
 of our Fang boatmen: — 
 
 “Thirty pieces of cloth, each piece about four yards; twenty flint- 
 lock guns, five bags of salt, twenty heads of tobacco, three hats, thirty 
 iron pots, twenty jugs, thirty cutlasses, three cheap coats, three goats, 
 two hundred cheap plates.” 
 
 These Africans need the missionary to teach them better things. 
 The work of the “Dorothy” is to carry the missionary from town to 
 town in order that he may preach the Gospel. The “Dorothy ” also does 
 a good work in bringing the boys and girls from Fang towns on the 
 Gaboon and Nkomo and Bakwe and other rivers down to the school at 
 Baraka in Libreville. A week before we took our “Trip on the ‘ Dor- 
 othy’ ” thirty-five Fang boys were taken to their homes by the “Dorothy.” 
 They had been at school at Baraka and now were going home for a vaca- 
 tion. Each boy will help to make his town better because he has been 
 at the school. There are hundreds of Fang boys and girls in these towns 
 who can neither read nor write and who have never heard of Jesus. 
 
 The Fang are interesting people. They are ready for the Gospel. 
 You can see the eagerness manifest in the faces as shown in the photo- 
 graph. A day with the Fang, while convincing us of the awful degrada- 
 tion of this people, also made clear that good Gospel work was also being 
 done and that here was a great door and effectual open for the Gospel. 
 Here is a record of one of our days among the Fang people: 
 
 A DAY WITH THE FANG. 
 
 The sun had barely risen when we entered the town of Jamanen. 
 As we climbed the steep bank leading to the town the quick ear of the 
 missionary, like one of old on the mountain side, heard the sound of 
 music and dancing. In a few moments we had passed through the small 
 village with its ugly palaver house in the midst of the main street, and 
 were at the open space at the extreme end of the town. 
 
 Here a strange sight met our eyes. Some thirty women arranged 
 in the form of a double crescent were engaged in a native dance. In 
 the center was one young woman, not out of her teens, whose meagre 
 attire, graceful movements and wild song at once pointed her out as 
 the leader. On her head, waving in the breeze, was a bunch of purple 
 feathers; on either arm there stood out a whisk of dried palm or plantain 
 fibre ; her neck was adorned with three necklaces of varied colored beads 
 so dear to the African woman’s heart. Her single garment was a bit 
 of blue cloth prettily draped about her body and reaching to the knees, 
 while on either limb were three brass rings, and one made of nuts, 
 which latter clicked merrily as the dancer moved to and fro. Orna- 
 ments of the other women varied but were not so elaborate as hers. 
 
 A native drum three or four feet high, cut out of a tree trunk and 
 hollowed, the lower end closed and the top covered with a tightly drawn 
 skin, was thumped continuously by an elderly man who ever kept his 
 eye on the dancing group beside him. The dancers sang a strange 
 melody unlike anything I have heard either among colored people at 
 the South or in Africa. Their facial expressions as well as motions of 
 the body suggested the lascivious nature of this hideous exhibition of 
 raw heathenism. 
 
 One little lad — a member of our Fang school at Baraka — was the 
 sole one to greet us in this town. 
 
 5 
 
In the cool of the afternoon we held a service at Sizakon on the 
 Bokwe’. An eager group gathered about us. I counted over sixty-five 
 at the meeting — most of them Christians. Not one of the women could 
 read but all knew every verse of the half-dozen hymns we sang, and I 
 never heard more hearty singing of the songs of Zion. It was wonderful 
 how eagerly these simple-minded Christians listened to the Gospel. I 
 noticed a leper. His wrinkled face, sadly marked with the frightful 
 disease, glowed with joy as we spoke of Him who bore the heavy burdens 
 of suffering humanity. 
 
 The most interesting figure was the headman or chief of the town. 
 He is blind. Several years ago he became a Christian and put away 
 five of his six wives. Each day he teaches his people the words of the 
 Gospel. His prayer was simple and spiritual. His life evinces the sin- 
 cerity of his profession. At the close of the sermon the entire audience 
 with bowed head and subdued voice repeated the Lord’s Prayer. 
 
 The old chief, led by one of the Christians, accompanied us to the 
 “Dorothy.” The Christian had under his arm a strange bundle. It was 
 bound with leaves. He and the chief and the missionary had a short 
 talk, and the two went back to their town and we went on our way. 
 The bundle was a fetish — the last link with the old heathenism. It was 
 the skull of the father of this Christian Fang. John Ross, in his Mis- 
 sionary Methods in Manchuria , tells us that he always dealt tenderly 
 
 with Christians in re- 
 gard to their ancestral 
 tablets. I thought of 
 this as we took this 
 most precious relic 
 from our Fang bro- 
 ther. Surely it is a 
 wonderful gospel that 
 can break the pow T er 
 of such a deep-rooted 
 custom. 
 
 It was dark that 
 night when we left the 
 “Dorothy” and, in a 
 small canoe, made 
 our way up a small 
 creek to another town. 
 The service over, we 
 came to the riverside, 
 followed by a group 
 of Christian women. 
 One stood on a rock 
 holding in her hand a 
 torch made from the 
 white resin of the ma- 
 hogany tree and 
 bound with plantain leaves. As we pushed off from the beach and 
 turned into the creek hers was the last figure we saw, while far away up 
 the stream was the tiny light of the “Dorothy.” 
 
 The night was dark and the Fang woman, waving her little torch, 
 seemed to me a picture of darkest Africa. Here and there a “Dorothy” 
 bears a little light; here and there in these scattered towns, some brave 
 
 16 
 
 Fang Dance. 
 
man or faithful woman is holding the torch which lights the way for a few 
 eager souls. I still see my Fang sister in the darkness of that African 
 night with her lighted torch, standing alone on the rock. 
 
 How long must she stand alone? 
 
 TWO PALAVERS. 
 
 One of the onerous duties of the 
 missionary is listening to palavers. 
 
 The visiting secretary was present at 
 a number of palavers. Two occurred 
 among the Fang people. They illus- 
 trate certain distinct phases of the 
 African character. 
 
 The “palaver” is everything in 
 Africa. No undertaking of any im- 
 portance can be carried on without 
 the palaver. Before a canoe is pur- 
 chased, or a wife taken, or a dispute 
 settled, there must be a palaver. The 
 meanest town in the ‘ ‘ Bush ’ ’ where 
 a few straggling huts, a stray goat, 
 a half-dozen children and two-score 
 men and women constitute the entire 
 community, is not without its palaver house. At “Duketown,” in 
 Old Calabar, the palaver house was a tumble-down house filled with 
 rubbish and dirt, unfit to shelter pigs, yet when the drum was sounded 
 the people crowded into this building to hold a palaver. Time is 
 no element in the make-up of the African, and these palavers often 
 occupy a whole day or more. The matter in dispute may be the 
 merest trifle, but the palaver must be held and the question settled in 
 proper form. 
 
 Miss Isabella Nassau, so long the honored and devoted missionary 
 worker in Batanga, is famous at “cutting” palavers, the people 
 having such confidence in her judgment and perfect justice that they 
 willingly submit their disputes to her, and when she “cuts” the rag held 
 by the two contestants, the one having the shorter piece goes away as 
 well pleased as the possessor of the longer piece — the sign that the pal- 
 aver has been decided in his favor. 
 
 The first palaver was at Angom in Congo Francais, on the Nkomo 
 river in the Gaboon district. 
 
 Angom was occupied as a mission station in 1881. The Mission 
 property is on rising ground some distance away from the river and back 
 of the town of Fula. It is a veritable “garden of the Lord,” for beauty 
 and luxuriance. If there is any fruit, flower or vegetable growing on 
 the West Coast of Africa, that is not found growing on these goodly acres, 
 it has escaped my eye. The mission houses are fairly surrounded with 
 trees laden with richest fruit, oranges, limes, cocoanuts, pine-apples, 
 bread fruit, paw-paws, avocado pears, mangoes, coffee, cocoa, and much 
 else. The blue myrtle was crushed under our feet as we walked, the 
 “pride of Barbadoes” delighted our eyes as we looked about and trop- 
 ical flowers of many varieties and richest hues were growing everywhere 
 in great profusion. The Rev. A. W. Marling and wife labored here for 
 sixteen years, and much that we saw was the result of their painstaking 
 
 Native Fang Dance. 
 
 17 
 
efforts. Mr. Marling died in 1896. The station was closed in 1898. 
 Every bit of furniture left in the houses remains untouched, a large col- 
 lection of planks, windows, boxes and innumerable articles lie under 
 the houses or in store-rooms. Not a single article has been stolen since 
 the Board closed the station, and herein lies the subject of our palaver. 
 
 The old chief of the town of “Fula” wished to see the “Big Chief” 
 from America, wished a “Palaver.” It was a weird scene. The two 
 missionaries from Libreville, the “Big Chief” from America and his 
 wife, the group of natives from the town of Fula, with the old chief in the 
 center, all standing under the great bread-fruit tree, near the mission house, 
 
 Procuring Guide for Dwarf Village. 
 
 discussing the question of the mission property. The old chief declared 
 that he had not permitted even a board to be taken. He had kept his 
 people from taking as much as a shoe-lachet. He wished many mis- 
 sionaries to come and sit down there, his people needed a teacher. Mr. 
 Marling was a good man; did we have any more such men? But he 
 could not keep his people off our property much longer. We must do 
 something. 
 
 The “Big Chief” from America promised him that something should 
 be done. In two moons there would be a palaver at Batanga (mis- 
 sion meeting); in eight moons another palaver at New York; then 
 he would hear from us. It was interesting to watch the face of the old 
 man as the interpreter translated these words. He had an honest face 
 and his frank statement of his inability to keep the property intact much 
 longer was truly African and worthy of all praise. The palaver over, 
 we invited him on board the “Dorothy,” and “dashed” him four pieces 
 of blue cloth, and one of red, and two bottles of pomade. He went 
 away as pleased as a child with a new toy. 
 
 The second palaver was at Zamelega on the Gungwe river, some 
 thirty-five miles from Libreville. On landing we noticed a certain cold- 
 ness in our reception. Many men stood aloof; others scowled at us; 
 still others sought to interrupt our service. In all the Fang towns we 
 
 18 
 
had visited we were received most cordially save here. The few Chris- 
 tians in the town came to the service, but most of the people did not. 
 When we reached the canoe preparatory to leaving, we found out the 
 cause of the trouble and a palaver ensued. 
 
 The canoe which we used in going ashore from the “Dorothy” had been 
 obtained on trial the week before from a man known to the Mission. He 
 said he owned the canoe. It was taken by the missionary on trial and 
 was to be paid for if it proved satisfactory. A man at Zamelega claimed 
 that the canoe belonged to him. Hence the palaver. One native 
 sat on the bow of the canoe with a gun. Three others stood on the bank 
 with guns. The entire population of the town stood on the rising ground 
 by the beach, and at times all talked. The spokesman was a chief from 
 Gaboon — a shrewd, wily old man, who talked very loudly and made 
 many gestures. He was at Zamelega collecting taxes. The French 
 Government requires the owner of each house to pay a certain tax, and 
 each man not owning a house has to pay a poll tax. This Gaboon king 
 was assisted by a native of the town who also talked much. Through 
 our interpreter we protested that this was not our palaver. We 
 would take the canoe to Libreville, turn it over to the Government and 
 have the matter settled by a judicial process. They would not listen to 
 any such proposition. The French Commandant was in the town as- 
 sisting in the collection of taxes and we called him in. He too failed to 
 see our side of the palaver, and matters were getting very warm when 
 one of the Christian Fang offered to loan us his canoe, and we agreed to 
 leave the canoe under dispute at Zamelega, on consideration that the 
 French official would give us a receipt for the same. 
 
 On reaching Libreville we learned that the man who loaned the 
 canoe to the Mission was having a palaver over the getting of a wife, 
 and the ownership of the canoe was probably in some way associated 
 with his palaver. His story is of interest as illustrative of African 
 customs. 
 
 The father of the man who claimed to own the canoe, which we left 
 unwillingly at Zamelega, died, leaving two children, a son and daughter. 
 The mother was sold by the 
 maternal uncle to another man 
 and a dowry of guns or boats 
 or goats given in payment. 
 
 The uncle then took the 
 daughter — his niece — to wife. 
 
 By native law — custom — the 
 brother had the right to sell 
 the sister. In lieu of this the 
 uncle gave to the brother — 
 his nephew — a wife. Mean- 
 while, the mother died. Her 
 second husband demanded 
 from the uncle the dowry he 
 had paid. He failed to get 
 it and to satisfy his claim 
 seized the wife of the son. 
 
 The son, whose wife was stolen, was so deeply grieved that he went to 
 the town where lived his step-father and the stealer of his wife and stole 
 a wife from that town. The town was Zamelega and every man in the 
 town was up in arms to avenge the theft. Meanwhile, the stolen wife 
 
 *9 
 
with the husband went to Gaboon, the husband hoping that his uncle, 
 the cause of all the trouble, would rectify matters. No such happy 
 issue was in store for him. He was arrested and thrown into prison, but 
 afterwards released and moved to a town where lived a paternal uncle. 
 This paternal uncle was about to make war on the town of Zamelega, 
 but was dissuaded 
 from doing this by his 
 nephew, who prob- 
 ably took a simpler 
 course and stole the 
 canoe, which was the 
 cause of our palaver. 
 
 The case was still 
 pending when we left 
 Gaboon. 
 
 The Fang work is 
 in its infancy. A 
 committee sent out 
 by the Mission last 
 year to inspect the Fang work estimated that the towns seen by them 
 had a population of ten thousand. The Fang are pressing down from 
 the interior to the coast. They seem to me to be an energetic race cap- 
 able of great development. Their language is closely allied to the 
 Bulu, spoken by so many tribes in Kamerun. Much pioneering work 
 has already been done. During the last year a Christian Fang brought 
 to Baraka three boxes containing human skulls. These skulls had been 
 the objects of worship of men who revered them as most sacred, the 
 skulls of their ancestors. But as the men of Ephesus, after they had 
 accepted the Gospel, brought their sacred relics to the missionaries to be 
 
 burned, so these con- 
 verted Fang gave this 
 visible evidence of a 
 change of heart in thus 
 breaking with their 
 past. In conversation 
 with one of the best of 
 our native helpers I 
 learned that while 
 many of the Fang 
 Christians fall into 
 sin, especially immor- 
 ality, yet others are 
 found faithful, and if 
 there were mission- 
 aries sufficient to 
 adequately equip the 
 field a large and abun- 
 dant harvest would 
 soon be gathered. 
 
 No medical missionary has labored for any length of time in recent 
 years at Gaboon, yet the other missionaries do not a little to bring relief 
 to many poor sufferers. It was most gratifying to note the large amount 
 of excellent work done by the laymen in relieving the sickness of poor 
 distressed ones at Gaboon. 
 
 Brass Trays , Hammered by Natives , Dwarf Cooking Pot , Spoons. 
 
 20 
 
It was touching to see the interest manifested by the Gaboon 
 Christians in the visit of the secretary. These good people insisted 
 on bringing gifts, mats, cloth, spoons, baskets, spears, brass trays 
 
 and numerous ar- 
 ticles fashioned by 
 their own hands, in 
 order that they might 
 express their appre- 
 ciation of the work 
 done by the Board. 
 Even the children 
 vied with their elders 
 in thus giving sub- 
 stantial proof of their 
 gratitude to those 
 who had sent to them 
 the blessed Gospel 
 of our Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ. 
 We can never forget 
 the last moment 
 spent on the porch 
 of the Baraka mission house when one dear soul, after having brought a 
 generous gift, sang in English, with tremulous voice: 
 
 “ When we asunder part 
 It gives us inward pain, 
 
 But we shall still be joined in heart 
 And hope to meet again.” 
 
 The tears streamed down her face as these familiar English words 
 came from her aged lips, she and we realizing that our next meeting 
 would be around the great white throne when those from every tribe 
 and tongue and people and nation shall sing the “new song.” 
 
 The number of members reported on the roll of the Gaboon church is 
 not large, but no one could visit Gaboon without being impressed with 
 the genuineness, sincerity and evangelistic spirit of these fellow Chris- 
 tians of ours on the equator. 
 
 Native Grass Cloth and Cotton Cloth , Bead Work and Basket Work. 
 
 21 
 
The stout surf boat “ Lafayette ” took us safely from Libreville to 
 Corisco, some sixty miles northwest of the equator, and some twenty miles 
 from the mainland. In going to Corisco we passed from French to Spanish 
 territory. The French territory extends from the river Campo to a short 
 distance north of Landana, a stretch of nine hundred miles save about one 
 hundred miles, which 
 is under Spanish con- 
 trol. In this one 
 hundred miles are 
 embraced all the 
 churches of the Benito 
 District in which Co- 
 risco is included. 
 
 Corisco is four 
 miles long and three 
 miles -wide ; at its 
 northern end it is 
 rocky and steep, while 
 at the south the land 
 is flat and sandy. 
 
 Palm trees abound. 
 
 For manv vears 
 the West Africa Mis- ^ of r ^° Christians - 
 
 sion was known as the “Gaboon and Corisco Mission.” The Presbytery 
 embracing the territory now occupied by the Mission is still known 
 as the Corisco Presbytery. At one time there were four centres of work 
 on the island and it was hoped that Corisco would become the leading 
 station of the Mission The population of the island to-day is about 
 four hundred, nearly one-half of whom are members of the Corisco 
 Church and congregation. 
 
 The Corisco Christian carries on his work amid great difficulties. 
 No school is permitted, no missionary physician is allowed to charge 
 for medicine, no church bell can be rung. In many ways the “powers 
 that be” seemingly seek to interfere with the work of the Church. Yet 
 in the face of the obstacles presented by the Government and bit- 
 ter opposition by an ignorant and debased priesthood, this stal- 
 wart band of Christians are giving good evidence of the faith which 
 is in them. 
 
 We did not arrive at the island till very late one evening and no 
 notice was sent out of a meeting until the following morning, but by 
 9 130 an audience of sixty-seven persons had assembled. It was a service 
 not soon to be forgotten. There was no doubt the people were deeply 
 interested. They had left their work to honor the presence of the rep- 
 resentative of the Board. The rapt attention, the vigorous singing, the 
 warm grasp of the hand, the willingness which they manifested in stand- 
 ing long in front of the church in order that we might get a good photo- 
 graph to show to the Christians in America, all attest the genuineness 
 of these simple minded Christian people. I can hear them now bidding 
 us farewell as we passed the beautiful avenue of mango trees, down the 
 level shaded walks to the shell covered beach, whence we departed. 
 They indeed, as was done to a famous missionary of old, “brought us 
 on our way to the ship.” Weeks afterward and just before leaving for 
 home the following letter was received. I publish it entire as illustrating 
 the fine type of these Coriscan Christians: 
 
 22 
 
A CORDIAL FAREWELL FROM CORISCO CHURCH. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Halsey, D.D.: — Your hasty visit calls out the sympathy of 
 many who were anxious to see you but are unable. On the other hand we 
 greatly give thanks to our Master for your sincere visit. We thank you 
 for coming far, far away thousands of miles from west continent across 
 the great Atlantic to our west Equatorial Africa. Here we agree to send 
 our cordial gratitude on your behalf for your tender kindness toward your 
 negroes brethren. May our Omnipotent Master guide your voyage and 
 lead your steamer through heavy and great tempest of the Atlantic Ocean ; 
 and then bring both Mr. and Mrs. Halsey safe to America shores. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 CORISCO CHURCHES, 
 
 Mduma Injenji. 
 
 Corisco, ioth January, 1905. 
 
 The church building at Corisco is a beautiful structure of bamboo 
 and mahogany, built in native style with native money. While the 
 church is not entirely self-supporting, yet in view of the many disad- 
 vantages under which these Christians have to labor in their daily avo- 
 cations, as well as in their religious privileges, the amount contributed 
 is very large. The work at Corisco is small and there is little prospect 
 of growth. A sturdier lot of Christians, however, it would be hard to find 
 anywhere in the world. The first convert on the island was for many 
 years the efficient and faithful pastor of the church. His son was the 
 captain of the boat which took us to Corisco and then to Benito and 
 Batanga. Born on the island of Corisco, he was at home on the sea 
 and guided our good ship with unerring skill. He seemed to be quite at 
 home in Presbytery when being examined on the life of Christ and the 
 history of the Christian Church. He bids fair to rival his honored father 
 in all spiritual gifts. He is a typical Coriscan Christian, and we trust 
 that for many years this little island flock will send forth its trained mem- 
 bers into the African field 
 which is so white unto the 
 harvest. 
 
 The other churches in the 
 Benito district are Hanje, 
 
 Melega, Bolundo (Benito 
 proper), Bata, Evune and 
 Myuma. 
 
 Hanje is twelve miles 
 south of Bolundo. The church 
 was crowded with a well 
 dressed congregation on the 
 afternoon of our visit. It 
 seemed very much like a 
 church at home. In the midst 
 of the service a band of wild, 
 uncouth, illy clad people 
 (some of them no garments at 
 all) entered the house of the Lord. News had gone to the interior that “a 
 great man from far away was to visit the church that day.” These rude 
 men of the forest, whose tribesmen every year are pressing in greater 
 numbers to the coast, were drawn no doubt by idle curiosity on that 
 
 23 
 
bright, sunshiny afternoon. They are the forerunners of a mighty host. 
 A few years ago two of the Board’s missionaries made a trip from Benito 
 into the interior and north to Efulen. Everywhere they found countless 
 towns, a vast unoccupied territory, with thousands of people speaking a 
 language akin to the Fang and the Bulu. When this party of fifteen to 
 twenty entered the church there was not a vacant seat. Instantly twenty 
 seats were vacant and the ‘ ‘ poor man in vile clothing ’ ’ was given the pi ace 
 of honor. “ For if there come unto your assembly a man with a gold ring, 
 in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment, 
 and ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, and say unto 
 him, sit thou here in a good place, and say to the poor, stand thou 
 there, or sit here under my footstool, are ye not then partial in your- 
 selves, and are become judges of evil thoughts?” One of the young 
 candidates examined to be taken under care of the Presbytery 
 was asked, ‘‘If you were sent to an interior tribe which you thought 
 much below you, to preach the Gospel, would you go?” The answer 
 was ‘‘There is neither Greek nor Jew, bond nor free, male nor 
 female, in the religion of Jesus Christ.” The Gospel is breaking down 
 barriers rapidly in Africa. The Hanje Christians have felt the expansive 
 influence of the Gospel and are asking for better schools, more industrial 
 work, a dispensary and physician and much else. The leaven is working. 
 In a farewell note the native pastor wrote : ‘‘We hope that your important 
 visit will cause some alteration of the evil conditions which surround us. 
 We need righteousness to combat corruption, civilization to overthrow 
 barbarism, learning to drive out ignorance. If we do not receive help 
 we will be still sitting under the vast shadow of despair. When you will 
 be homeward bound and parted from us, leaving this dark continent 
 
 behind and crossing again the 
 vast Atlantic Ocean, the sons 
 and daughters of Africa will 
 be raising their hands to you 
 and shouting together with 
 one voice for help , help, to 
 drive out this great dark- 
 ness.” 
 
 In the trip to the interior 
 the two missionaries found no 
 evidences of the Gospel save a 
 few Bulu Sunday calendars, a 
 rude method of noting the 
 days of the week in order to 
 keep the Lord’s day. These 
 had been placed in the towns 
 by the Bulu Christians who 
 had gone out from Elat or 
 Efulen. These great multi- 
 tudes are without the Gospel. 
 If, as is proposed, there should 
 be appointed a superinten- 
 dent of all the coast churches, 
 Benito would be an ideal place for his residence, for not only is it 
 central, but hither could come the young men under training and 
 abundant opportunity would be offered in the regions around Benito 
 for them to exercise their gifts in an effort to reach these lost tribes. 
 
 24 
 
At Melega is a small band of Christians who own their own house 
 of worship, surrounded as it is by the thrifty and pretty home of the 
 native teacher with its well kept garden with growing corn and lettuce, 
 its fine cocoa and coffee trees, all an object lesson which preaches seven 
 days in the week. The Gospel puts new vigor and enterprise into the 
 African. Every truly converted man shows the effect of the Gospel even 
 in his garden. 
 
 Beautiful Benito. 
 
 The main station of Benito is at Bolundo. It well deserves to be 
 called “ Benito the beautiful.” Stand on the beach late in the afternoon 
 when the setting sun is pouring a flood of golden light on house and 
 church, stream and forest, fruit and flower. The great river with its 
 sun-lit, wind-swept waters rushes along the pebbly beach, the gathering 
 shadows give a rich tone to the green forest, the frame in which the 
 river seems enclosed; the lawn, smooth and well kept as the best of 
 English estates, with its great palm trees standing like sentinels to guard 
 from danger is fair to look upon, while as far south as the eye can reach 
 is a mass of flowers rich in color and fragrant with perfume as in the 
 sunniest of sunny lands. A closer inspection does not dispel the illu- 
 sion. The boat-house is a model, the best boat-house I saw on the entire 
 West Coast. Every boat painted, each canoe tarred and pitched, not a 
 bit of rubbish or a useless stick to be seen anywhere, a paragon of 
 neatness and order and cleanliness. The same was true of the two dwell- 
 ing houses and the numerous other buildings, church, school, dispensary, 
 store, dormitory and store houses. Many beautiful vistas open as you 
 walk over this fine plot of ground at Benito It must be a liberal edu- 
 cation to the native Christian just to see what can be done by pains- 
 taking labor, good common sense and a touch of the beautiful. 
 
 25 
 
The visitor to Benito did not need the legend embowered in a mass 
 of palm ferns over the door of the mission house to assure him that here 
 was genuine Christian hospitality. “We have great influence here,” 
 said one of the faithful workers who has grown gray in the service. 
 We did not doubt it. There is such a happy combination of utility, 
 piety, and beauty. A great spring of pure water is covered over to 
 prevent defilement, a force pump, the gift of one of the missionaries, 
 forces the water into large whitewashed tanks where it is readily accessi- 
 ble. Yonder to the east is a fine avenue of fruit trees, limes, cocoa, avo- 
 cado pears, cocoanut, pepper, guava, mango, plum and I know not what 
 else. There — a walk lined with pineapple hedge; here — a fine clump 
 of Indian bamboo, very useful in house building. Two rows of bread- 
 fruit trees add beauty to the landscape. Oranges abound and better 
 oranges I have yet to taste, Floridas and Calif ornias not excepted. 
 There is much space where the micabo or the yam or the banana can be 
 cultivated for the boarding school pupils, room enough to provide 
 food for all who can be taught by the small mission force at the station. 
 The flock of sheep, dark brown with no wool, the pigs and chickens, the 
 Syrian donkey named Nyack from the church which contributed the funds 
 for its purchase, add a pastoral touch to the picture. One of the events 
 of the day is to see Nyack come to the kitchen door every afternoon at 
 four o’clock to get her afternoon tea. She learned this in the Syria 
 Mission. 
 
 It were worth a journey to Africa to enjoy the good things at Benito. 
 We heard much of the great Roman Catholic Mission at Landana, 
 farther south. It is indeed beautifully situated and the “Fathers” in 
 charge have a fine garden, but the indescribable filth of yard and house 
 puts it out of comparison with ‘ ‘ Benito the beautiful.” 
 
 The same attention to detail was manifest in things spiritual. Every- 
 thing is sadly handicapped by the action of the Spanish officials. The 
 store is closed, also the dispensary. No medicine can be sold, it must be 
 given away. At all our mission stations the charge for medicine is very 
 slight, usually only sixpence. The Spanish Government does not even 
 permit this. The medical work is at a standstill at Benito, likewise the 
 school. The Government insists on Spanish being taught by the white 
 missionaries. At the time of my visit a very bright colored man who 
 
 spoke Spanish well taught the 
 few children employed about 
 the place, but no regular 
 school was held. In an inter- 
 view with the Spanish gov- 
 ernor at Bata he very cour- 
 teously gave us permission to 
 reopen the store but did not 
 permit us to sell medicines. 
 
 The religious work of the 
 station, however, went on 
 without interruption. It was 
 pleasant to see the people 
 wending their way to church 
 early Sunday morning. Some came in canoes across the river or from 
 various places along the coast, some from nearby towns. A goodly 
 number came from long distances, whole families, . fathers, mothers 
 and children, trudging along with bright faces and cheery talk as 
 
 26 
 
they came to the house of the Lord. In a land where polygamy 
 enters into the warp and woof of the social and political life it meant 
 much to see the ‘ ‘ husband of one wife ’ ’ with his children going 
 to the house of the Lord. The little tots looked very pretty in their 
 Mother Hubbard gowns and their many colored caps 
 as they marched along beside their parents, proud of 
 the privilege of going to church. 
 
 It was interesting to note the self-denial evidenced 
 in many ways by these Benito Christians. The church 
 is self-supporting; the three licentiates all gave up 
 lucrative positions in order to study for the ministry. 
 
 One was receiving $15.00 per month. He works for 
 the missionary for less than one-third of this amount 
 and spends every spare minute in study. I examined 
 him in Old Testament history. He knew his Bible 
 well. The native Spanish teacher was offered $20.00 
 a month by the Spanish Government if he would go 
 to Fernando Po and teach. He refused, albeit his 
 pay from the Mission is less than $5.00 a month. 
 
 Godly women were present on that Sunday morn- 
 ing, who, when they prepare ten sticks of cassava, the staple native 
 food in all West Africa, carefully lay aside one stick for the Lord. This 
 means much. The work of preparing cassava is arduous, requiring 
 patience, any amount of time and much muscle. It is done entirely by 
 women, the real burden bearers in Africa. 
 
 The Evune congregation are erecting a new church building. It 
 was about one-half completed when we visited Evune. The Bolundo 
 Christians hearing that their fellow Christians at Evune felt unable to 
 complete the structure offered to assist them. I have no doubt the 
 church will be completed ere these lines are in print, and that without any 
 cost to the Board. 
 
 The Christians at Bolundo wanted to know whether the Board 
 would open a new station up the river “where dwells a tribe as yet 
 unreached by the Gospel.” No better evidence of the depth of 
 Christian conviction at home or abroad than this desire to send the 
 Gospel to the regions beyond. In this particular instance, the request 
 has an added significance from the fact that the tribes without the 
 Gospel, in the interior, are looked down upon by the Benito people as 
 inferior. The difference in rank among the tribes of Africa is hard to 
 explain to a European. It is the old story, “the Jews have no dealings 
 with the Samaritans,” until the Gospel breaks down the barrier. In 
 my interviews with the Spanish governor, I took occasion to remind him 
 that no member of any one of the churches in the entire Benito district 
 had been so much as accused, much less convicted, of any crime against 
 the Spanish law. The governor willingly assented to my statements and 
 said the Government fully recognized the beneficent character of our 
 work. The leading elder in the Benito church is employed by the gov- 
 ernment to settle the palavers constantly arising among the people. 
 These palavers are not few, and by no means simple. I found this elder 
 to be a man well versed in Scripture, well informed regarding the ancient 
 customs and manners of his people and keenly alive to the African’s 
 great need of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 We took an extra boat, the “Willie,” in going from Benito to Bata, a 
 distance of some twenty- three miles. The “Willie” is the second boat of 
 
 27 
 
that name in the Mission. Both these boats were the gift of Mr. William 
 A. Pembroke, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. Mr. Pembroke never did any- 
 thing by halves. The first “Willie” lasted twelve years. The present 
 craft is very staunch and bids fair to do yeoman service for the Mission 
 for many years to come. The 
 boats were given as a memo- 
 rial for a dear child, as in the 
 case of the “Dorothy.” Both 
 Mr. and Mrs. Pembroke con- 
 tributed to the support of one 
 of the Benito missionaries. 
 
 It is pleasant to think that 
 the good work begun by these 
 godly people still continues, 
 even though they have passed 
 on to their reward. 
 
 It was at Benito that we 
 made the acquaintance of one 
 of the many pests of Africa 
 which the missionary has to 
 contend with. It was here we 
 learned the full significance of 
 the celebrated saying which 
 is not to be found in any of 
 Benjamin Franklin’s works, “Say your prayers and look at your feet.” 
 “Chiggers” abound in West Africa, and they quickly find your feet. 
 Left alone they produce a festering sore and often cause serious trouble. 
 The natives are very careless regarding the “Chiggers.” One of the 
 missionaries at Benito assured me that it was necessary at times to 
 punish severely the children in order to compel them to take out the 
 “Chiggers” from their feet. At Efulen the teachers in charge of the 
 school, after repeated warnings, have found it necessary to inflict corporal 
 punishment upon the children in order to compel them to extract these 
 troublesome creatures, albeit every day that one of them is left in the 
 foot causes increased pain. 
 
 The missionary is subject to many inconveniences. The filaria, a 
 small worm, which in some mysterious way, either through water or food, 
 enters the system, becomes a source of pain and much discomfort. Ants 
 of all kinds and in numbers whose name is legion abound. Snakes are 
 in evidence though we saw but few. The mosquito with his malarial 
 poison lies in wait at every turn of the road, and lurks at every bedside. 
 It is one constant battle. Few indeed of the missionaries escape a touch 
 of the fever. Yeoman service is required of the man or woman who 
 would toil for Christ in the Dark Continent, yet I heard no word of com- 
 plaint from our workers regarding any of these hindrances to the flesh. 
 
 The road from Hanje to Bata is lined with towns. A conservative 
 estimate of the population at or near the coast from Hanje to Evune is 
 between fifteen and twenty thousand. The population in the interior 
 is not known. Traders cannot go very far back of Bata for fear of hos- 
 tile tribes. While we were at Bata a German trader attempted to go 
 into the interior and was robbed of his goods, barely escaping with his 
 life. In time these numerous tribes will be subdued and open to the 
 Gospel as the Bulu are in Kamerun. 
 
 On the parade grounds at Bata we saw Negro soldiers being drilled 
 
 28 
 
 Church , Evune. 
 
by Spanish officers. These soldiers were from the Fang tribe. It is 
 said that many Fang dwell in the bush in the Benito district. The Fang 
 and Bulu are closely related. Missionaries who speak one of these 
 tongues can easily be understood in the other. One sees here the finger 
 of Providence pointing to a great open door to the Presbyterian Church 
 in its West Africa Mission. 
 
 The Bata church was crowded the night in which it was our privilege 
 to speak. Everything at Bata indicated that a new governor was insti- 
 tuting a new reform. A general stir and business air seemed to pervade 
 the atmosphere in striking contrast to the old regime. The governor 
 informed us that he had just completed arrangements for the construc- 
 tion of the telephone to connect Bata with Kribi and thence with Duala. 
 At Duala is a cable station. Benito will soon be in touch with the out- 
 side world. All these churches in the Benito district, while showing 
 evidence of growth 
 and development, 
 need and will need for 
 years to come constant 
 supervision of the white 
 missionary. The Afri- 
 can Christian has not 
 yet learned to stand 
 alone. Friendly coun- 
 sel, wise administration 
 of discipline and godly 
 incentives from others 
 are greatly needed to 
 keep the church up- 
 right in morals, true in 
 doctrines and zealous 
 in service. When we 
 consider how many 
 churches in our homeland still need to be cared for by Presbyteries 
 and Synods and Boards, it is not to be wondered that the African 
 church requires paternal oversight. At present in the Benito district there 
 are only three students for the ministry. Six are needed. “ Pray ye the 
 Lord of the harvest that He will thrust forth laborers into His harvest.” 
 
 Traveling in a surf boat, well loaded with trunks, bundles, crew and 
 passengers, is not desirable. The sun is hot during the day, the nights are 
 damp and chill. The facilities for sleeping and eating are not to be 
 compared with those afforded by the “ Dorothy. ” Yet the missionary 
 journeys many a mile in these boats, which are safe, and while not com- 
 modious, serve their purpose well. One of the pleasant features of the 
 boat travel was the singing by the Christian men who composed the 
 boat’s .crew. One familiar tune after another would float out on the 
 night air as we made our way past Evune and Ubenji toward Batanga. 
 This singing is a characteristic feature of the African Christian. The 
 Bulu carriers who were with us much in the interior were singing con- 
 stantly as we journeyed through the long day and they always assisted 
 at the evening meetings with their songs. The Gospel song seems to 
 have driven out the heathen song entirely in the life of the believer. 
 At Elat we heard the scholars sing part songs admirably, their singing 
 reflecting great credit on the faithful teaching of the missionary and evi- 
 dencing what a mighty factor in evangelization is ‘ ‘ the Gospel in song. ’ ’ 
 
 29 
 
Four of the six stations of the Board are in the Kamerun district, 
 
 * Batanga, Lolodorf, Elat and Efulen. When the Portuguese in 1490 
 discovered the great delta of the river which ran through their territory, 
 it was filled with prawns (a species of craw-fish) and they called it 
 “Cameroes,” that is to say, “prawns” and “Kamerun” is a corruption 
 of the word. Kamerun extends from the river Campo, the end of the 
 Spanish possession, to southern Nigeria, the beginning of British pos- 
 session, a territory embracing 180,684 square miles with an estimated 
 population of three and a half million. It is rapidly developing under 
 
 • the wise administration of the German Government. 
 
 ^ BATANGA STATION includes a coast line of sixty miles. The work 
 of the station is confined almost entirely to the coast. The main station at 
 Batanga, forty miles from the river Campo, was formerly a place of some 
 commercial importance. It has declined in the last decade. This is 
 due in large part to the fact that Kribi, five miles to the north, was a few 
 years ago made a civil station by the German Government. The gov- 
 ernor of the district resides there. Many of the factories and trading 
 stores formerly located at Batanga have removed to Kribi. Kribi is easily 
 the trade center of the district and the point of departure for the interior. 
 The native towns in and near Batanga are neither large nor flourishing. 
 The people seem to lack enterprise, and are living in the past. The 
 tribal animosities and jealousies, which in years past led to bloodshed 
 and greatly interrupted the work of the Mission and the trader as well, 
 have lost their fierceness, but not altogether their animosity. As I stood 
 on the bank of a quiet stream — it is very boisterous in the rainy season — 
 which bounds our Mission property at Bongaheli at the north, one of the 
 senior missionaries told me how in days gone by this stream was the 
 dividing line between two small tribes who often engaged in hand-to- 
 hand encounters on its banks and in its swift- flowing waters. In one or 
 two stormy interviews I had with these dear colored brethren and sisters 
 at Batanga, I imagined that we were on the bank of that stream and in 
 the midst of such a conflict as the good missionary described having 
 witnessed long ago. 
 
 One of the most delightful experiences of all the visit to the West 
 Africa Mission was that in every mission household at family prayers, 
 the Year Book of Prayer was in evidence. I wish that every Presby- 
 trian family in the homeland would thus use the Year Book published 
 by the Women’s Boards and Societies. Every missionary looks forward 
 eagerly to the month when the mission which he represents will be the 
 subject of thousands of prayers in the homeland. I can ask no greater 
 blessing for Africa than that all who read these lines will purchase and 
 use the Year Book of Prayer. Readers of the Year Book for 1906 will 
 note that no missionaries are assigned to the Batanga Station. It is a 
 sad story, but one which I believe the Church at home should know. 
 
 Ere we left the steamer on our way to Africa, a letter of complaint 
 purporting to come from the Batanga church was placed in my hands. 
 Two hours after our arrival a committee from the church waited on the 
 representative of the Board and asked for a palaver. The palaver was 
 granted. Other letters and palavers followed. In fact much time was 
 given to these good people who seemed to be in dire trouble. The 
 various conferences and discussions only served to show that the Chris- 
 \ tian people at Batanga were dissatisfied with the work of the majority of 
 \ the missionaries. By letter and by word of mouth they asked for the 
 1 removal of nearly all the missionaries at the Batanga Station. The com- 
 
 30 
 
plaints touched every branch of missionary activity, evangelistic, edu- 
 cational, medical. Some of the complaints arose from ignorance, a 
 failure to grasp the facts, some from the peculiar disposition of the 
 African mind, which, to a foreigner, is past finding out ; some had a basis 
 of truth. I carefully examined each complaint and found no ground for 
 the sweeping condemnation of the faithful workers at Batanga. It is 
 well for the Church at home to know that the missionary is only human, 
 that the African climate is most trying on the nerves, that the African 
 Christian is sometimes as unreasonable and unfair and unjust as Chris- 
 tians in the homeland. Even Moses spoke unadvisedly with his lips, 
 and certainly was not justified by any law, human or divine, in the use 
 of his hands in dealing with a certain nameless Egyptian. From the 
 mass of complaints and grievances presented to me I select a single illus- 
 trative case. 
 
 ' A patient came to the hospital at Batanga from Kribi. He, like 
 Mephibosheth of old, was lame in his feet. The missionary physician, 
 after examination, said that it would be necessary for the patient to reside 
 in the town near Batanga while undergoing treatment, since the twice 
 five-mile daily walk would hinder recovery. The patient declined to 
 stay in the town on account of personal reasons. The physician then 
 offered to give him a bed in the hospital, but this offer was refused be- 
 cause of alleged inability to pay for food during residence in the hospital. 
 The generous minded doctor then agreed to provide for the food as well 
 as to treat the patient. For some reason which was not made clear to 
 me the patient refused this offer, whereupon the physician said he could 
 do nothing more for him. Some days later the patient returned accom- 
 panied by a prominent member of the Batanga church. After much 
 discussion, in which the native Batanga Christian endeavored to dictate 
 to the physician what he should do for the patient, the good doctor lost 
 his temper, and insisted on them both leaving the hospital, as he had 
 numerous other patients who demanded his attention. As they still 
 lingered, he assisted their departure by forcible means. This was the 
 story told me by the parties aggrieved and confirmed in substance by 
 the doctor. Neither of the parties in being ejected from the hospital 
 were injured save in their dignity. I have no doubt the good physician 
 
 I lost his temper, but I think I would have done so under similar circum- 
 stances. 
 
 This story and many others I heard from the members of the Batanga 
 church. A spirit of unrest and dissatisfaction with the work of the mis- 
 sionary was manifest in all the interviews which I had with these good 
 people. I felt deep sympathy for them. In former days Batanga was 
 a prosperous place. Now its glory has departed. The policy of the 
 Mission in later years has been steadily directed more and more toward 
 self-support. The people must pay for their medicine — a small sum — 
 must contribute something for the education of their children and in 
 other ways must assume the burden of responsibility of members of the 
 Christian Church. All Africa is in a state of transition. The old order 
 passeth away, the new order cometh. It is impossible to avoid friction, 
 discontent and dissatisfaction in such a transition era. This dissatis- 
 faction showed itself some years ago in an open outbreak against the 
 missionaries. The visit of the Secretary offered a favorable opportunity 
 for the people to present their grievances, real or supposed. I gave 
 every opportunity for the members of the church to talk over these mat- 
 ters with me, but I found hardly one who was not more or less disaffected. 
 
 31 
 
Self-support is a hard lesson to learn, even in America, much more so in 
 Africa. The Mission, in my judgment, acted wisely in withdrawing the 
 missionaries for a time from the Batanga Station. I believe the discipline 
 will prove effective. 
 
 The Batanga church is the largest church numerically in the Mission. 
 
 It has many devoted 
 souls within it. It is 
 not a hopeful sign 
 that after twenty 
 years of labor the 
 people seemingly do 
 not appreciate what 
 has been done for 
 them, but I believe 
 that out of this 
 trouble a blessing will 
 come and the Church 
 will be “established, 
 settled, strength- 
 ened.” 
 
 The situation at 
 Batanga presents 
 much that is help- 
 ful and inspiring. 
 There are five centers of work. At the southern end of the field is Bon- 
 gaheli, with its substantial and commodious church, its cozy mission 
 residence, “ Evangeline Cottage,” the school room adjoining, the garden 
 with its pretty flowers, and the grounds well supplied with fruit bearing 
 trees. 
 
 A mile and a half beyond is the central station of the Mission, Ikihike, 
 with its three fine residences, two of them near the seashore, and the third 
 a short distance back on the main road; the school house, the hospital, 
 the store and a number of smaller buildings. Then a mile and a half, 
 still going north, the outsta- 
 tion at Lobi (Waterfall), and 
 some distance beyond the 
 church and school at Bwam- 
 bi and the well built church 
 at Kribi with the manse ad- 
 joining. 
 
 I can never forget the 
 sight of the girls in the school 
 at Bongaheli. The school 
 was closed, but the scholars 
 gave us a reception one after- 
 noon, and we realized as we 
 looked into the happy, intelli- 
 gent faces of these children, 
 in such striking contrast to 
 those we saw in the towns 
 nearby, what a splendid work was being done for the future church at 
 Batanga. Not long before our visit a Y.P. S.C.E. prayer circle was 
 organized, and the solemn pledge was most faithfully kept. One out- 
 come of the pledge was the visit by Christian girls to native homes 
 
 Group of Children , Batanga. Albino in front. 
 
 Miss Nassau's School, Bongaheli. 
 
 32 
 
where dwelt Christians who were unable to read, the educated Christian 
 girls going with glad hearts to read the Word of God and to sing the sweet 
 songs of Zion. 
 
 A well trodden path leads by Evangeline Cottage Carriers from the 
 distant interior pass on their way to the factory beyond. The good 
 missionary, who, for 
 more than a genera- 
 tion, has served the 
 Lord in Darkest Af- 
 rica, sits in the door- 
 way of her cottage, 
 and by aid of the 
 baby organ induces 
 the carrier to rest for 
 a while on his jour- 
 ney. The Word is 
 preached to these 
 passers by, some of 
 whom are never seen 
 again, but surely we 
 have the promise, 
 
 “My word shall not 
 return unto me void 
 but it shall accom- 
 plish the purpose 
 whereunto it is sent.” 
 
 Evangeline Cottage is the theological seminary of the mission field. Here 
 for many years students have been taught the Word of God and fitted for 
 their life work by the professor of didactic and polemic theology, church 
 history, catechetics and much else, and that professor a WOMAN. I give 
 a few items from the report of this theological seminary presented at the 
 meeting of Corisco Presbytery which I attended. Of 233 class days, one 
 student was absent twenty days, one eighteen, one twenty-five. The 
 course of instruction consisted of a system of theology based on the work 
 of Alexander S. Patterson, of Old Testament history from the creation 
 to the captivity, of Foster’s Bible Story entire, and questions and 
 answers in the shorter catechism with full proof texts. I listened to the 
 examination of these candidates for the Gospel ministry, and was well 
 satisfied that whatever St. Paul meant when he said that women should 
 not speak in the churches, he did not mean that women should not teach 
 in a theological seminary in Africa. 
 
 It speaks well for the Batanga Christians that they built their 
 own church, and do something toward paying the running expenses. 
 One of the Sundays in which it was my privilege to worship 
 with this congregation, an offering was taken which amounted to 
 twenty-eight marks (about seven dollars), a goodly contribution 
 considering the earning capacity of the average communicant, and 
 the peculiar economic difficulties under which the people labor at 
 the present time. 
 
 For the last dozen years, the Annual Meeting of the Mission has been 
 held in the school house at Ikihike. The three Mission residences afford 
 ample room for the entertainment of all the missionaries and the school 
 room, with its two ante-rooms, is well adapted both for the meeting of Mis- 
 sion and of Presbytery. The grounds are very spacious and plentifully 
 
 33 
 
supplied with trees whose grateful shade and noble proportions lend an 
 added charm to this haven by the sea. 
 
 This is the haven of the Mission. It is the point of landing and 
 of departure for the missionaries. Even those who go to Benito or 
 Gaboon frequently stop over at Batanga. One of the onerous tasks 
 resting upon the missionaries at Ba- 
 tanga is the receiving and caring for 
 all goods shipped from England or 
 America, and the forwarding of them 
 to the various interior stations. When 
 it is remembered that these goods 
 must be landed in small boats where 
 the surf runs high and the beach is 
 treacherous, and must be carried on 
 the backs of men in loads adapted to 
 the capacity of each, it will readily 
 be seen what a task is imposed upon 
 the workers at Batanga. It has been 
 necessary all these years to keep 
 stores at the interior stations. Large 
 quantities of goods have to be purchased, since they are needed for trade 
 with the natives. He who has not seen the landing of cargo at the inhos- 
 pitable beach at Batanga can hardly know what it means to land goods 
 safe and sound ; and he who has not dealt with the African carriers can 
 hardly appreciate what patience, care and tact is required ere these goods 
 can be safely landed in the home of the missionary in the distant interior. 
 At my request Mr. Peter Menkel, who has done much of this work in 
 years gone by, but who since we left Africa has died, prepared the fol- 
 lowing statement of one year’s caravan work. 
 
 Two Batanga Saints. 
 
 A statement concerning the Caravan work in connection with the transporta- 
 tion of goods to Lolodorf, Efulen and Elat from Batanga. 
 
 Number of man loads sent to the above mission stations during 1904: 
 
 Jan. 136 
 April at 
 July 30 
 Oct. 53 
 
 Feb. 42 
 May 29 
 Aug. 219 
 Nov. 51 
 
 March 62 
 June 48 
 Sept. 1 14 
 
 Dec. 80 Total 907 
 
 To get these loads in shape to be carried means the receiving and storing of 
 cases, bales, etc., from the steamers. Many of these cases are too large or heavy, 
 or both, for safe handling out of the boats on the beach, especially so during the 
 afternoon, as the seas dash over the bow or boat’s side and wet the cases. If 
 small ones, they are more quickly handled. But during the “dry season’’ the boats 
 are almost invariably full of water before the cases can be got out. At all times 
 cases too heavy or too large for a man to carry must be repacked. 
 
 But much more so is it necessary to open all cases received during the dry season. 
 
 June 9. The steamer brought 84 cases for the Mission. Two boat loads got 
 wet ; cases too heavy to handle ; stored them. Books nearly ruined. There were 
 stationery, provisions, shoes, clothing, cloth, muslin, hardware, all for the interior. 
 
 Out of about 30 bolts or trusses of cloth and muslin 21 had to be put into the 
 washtubs and soaked in fresh water to get out the salt water in order to get the 
 material dry for repacking Cloth or clothing wet with salt water will always 
 feel wet or damp until soaked in fresh water. We kept five washtubs in constant 
 use till over 1,000 yards were soaked, then put through the wringer and dried 
 on the lawn. As we had some hot days it was soon fit for rerolling into bolts. 
 All sorts of clothing were thus treated. Happily all were washable. Shoes not 
 so easily handled as they moulded, hardware quickly rusted so all had to be oiled, 
 fishhooks were fastened together in a bunch by rust. After a week’s work these 
 goods were repacked in smaller cases ready for the interior, not much the worse 
 for their sea bath. Without this effort to save them from ruin they would have 
 heated, mildewed and rotted before they reached the interior stations. 
 
 34 
 
An agreement has now been entered into with one of the large trading 
 firms at Kribi to take entire charge of the receiving of all the goods of 
 the Mission and shipping them to the interior stations. It is hoped that 
 this experiment will prove satisfactory. Under the new plan, the mis- 
 sionary will be relieved of much secular work, but carriers will still be 
 needed for the transporting of the personal effects of the missionary as 
 he journeys to and fro from the coast to the interior. 
 
 One of the most prominent buildings at Ikihike is the school house. 
 The building is a plain wooden two story structure, the lower floor 
 being used as a dormitory for the boys and the upper rooms, consisting 
 of one large and two small, being used for recitation. There are nine 
 schools connected with the station, the main school being held in the 
 building at Ikihike and the others in adjacent towns. All the schools 
 were closed during my visit. 
 
 The report presented to the Mission meeting showed that the place of 
 the school master at Ikihike is not a bed of roses. The first term there 
 were sixty-eight scholars enrolled, the second forty, the third twenty- 
 eight. There were only five Batanga boys in the school. The Batanga 
 people are proud and many of them refuse to learn the Benga, which is 
 closely allied to their tongue, the Bapook. The text-books are in the 
 Benga. There are not enough Bapooks to warrant printing text-books 
 in that language. In three of the schools no Benga is taught, while in 
 five others Benga is the main language. Nothing is being done for the 
 great Mabeya tribe, a large and interesting tribe in the Benga district. 
 The German Government insists, and properly, on German being taught. 
 This adds another complex feature to the situation. It is difficult to 
 teach a foreign language to a scholar until he can read in his own. The 
 school master gets little help from the parents, since the parents do 
 not appreciate, except in rare instances, the value of education. A small 
 charge for tuition imposed a few years ago, and more strictly enforced 
 each year, created much dissatisfaction. No doubt many of the village 
 schools do good work, but the educational outlook at Batanga was not, 
 so far as I could judge from a very incomplete survey, promising. Some 
 of the letters of complaint sent me were from native teachers asking for 
 
 increased compensation. On 
 investigation, I found that 
 they were well paid for the 
 small services required. The 
 visit of the Secretary, how- 
 ever, seemed an opportune 
 time to ask for an increase of 
 wages. Human nature is the 
 same the world over. From 
 these schools have gone forth 
 many pupils who have be- 
 come useful members of 
 society. At the present time, 
 however, I think the school 
 work is not as promising as in 
 years gone by. The school 
 problem at Batanga is not a simple one. Much patience and skill and 
 firmness will be required ere the good people at Batanga realize the value 
 of education for their children. The closing of the schools for the year 
 1905 may prove a very salutary lesson to them all. 
 
 Syracuse Batanga. 
 
 35 
 
I was very much impressed with the earnestness, zeal and evident 
 sincerity of the people in the Bongaheli, Lobi (Waterfall), Bwambi and 
 Kribi churches. I think there are many God-fearing men and women 
 among them, and when they once realize what education means for their 
 children I am confi- 
 dent they will be 
 more than ready to 
 comply with the rea- 
 sonable conditions 
 laid down by the Mis- 
 sion in educational 
 matters. In the ex- 
 pectant faces of many 
 boys and girls that 
 greeted me in these 
 churches on the days 
 of my visit I thought 
 I detected much good 
 material for future 
 Christian service. In 
 that much discussed 
 volume, “Travels in West Africa,” is a statement that “the missionary 
 educated man is the worst man on the coast.” Some missionary edu- 
 cated men may be “ne’er do wells.” I have known some graduates of 
 Harvard and Yale and Princeton to belong to this category. I found 
 natives who had been educated in the mission schools occupying posi- 
 tions of prominence and of trust in post office, custom house, trading 
 factories and cable offices and other places of honor and influence all 
 along the West Coast. I sought diligently to ascertain the facts regard- 
 ing this matter. I heard government officers complain that the Missions 
 did not turn out enough good men to supply the need and I have no 
 doubt this is true. The African does not yet realize the change which 
 is coming over his country, and even Christian fathers and mothers are 
 slow to understand the value of the new regime. There is a great future 
 for the African boy and girl who is willing to learn and to work. One of 
 the most encouraging signs in all the Mission was the evident purpose 
 and plan of missionaries to awaken this desire in both the parent and 
 the child. 
 
 It is pleasant to note that from Ubenji, thirty miles south of 
 Batanga proper, to Kribi, five miles north, there is a line of mission 
 outposts. Kribi is a growing place. The European settlement with the 
 factories, government offices and residences lie across the river away 
 from the native town and some distance from the Kribi mission church. 
 A bridge is now in process of construction across the river and a new road 
 is soon to be built between Kribi and Batanga. This may improve 
 conditions at Batanga. It certainly will help Kribi. Kribi is becoming 
 more and more a great caravan centre. The Kribi church is in a strategic 
 position. The work there under the careful supervision of the white 
 missionary should be greatly enlarged in the next few years. One of 
 the missionaries in the interior told me how some Bulu Christian carriers 
 who go to .Kribi with their loads refused to carry at the command of 
 the traders a load of rum and they persevered in their refusal though 
 they were flogged for it. Such stalwart Christianity needs to be encour- 
 aged. A Christian palaver house at Kribi, such as we have at Lolodorf, 
 
 36 
 
where carriers could rest at noon or at night, with a native evangelist 
 to teach them the Word, might prove most helpful. 
 
 The medical work at Batanga is the largest in the Mission. The 
 hospital with a dispensary is a long one-story structure. It is suitable 
 for native patients only and will accommodate seventeen. The floor 
 is cement, the beds are bamboo and the whole affair, while primitive, as 
 compared with our hospitals at home, serves its purpose very well. 
 During Mission meeting many illustrations were given of the beneficent 
 work of the hospital. The case of one of the Bulu carriers who was 
 accidentally shot is suggestive. When brought to the hospital it was 
 found that an operation was necessary. The physician in charge devoted 
 much time to the case. Many of his friends came to see him. The 
 Bulu missionaries seized the opportunity to teach the Word of God 
 which was being so beautifully exemplified every day in the constant and 
 faithful care given by the physician and nurse-. The friends of this man 
 went back to their town carrying with them evidences of the skill of 
 the physician, the kindness of the missionary and something of the 
 Gospel of Jesus Christ. This work goes on every day of the year and 
 is far reaching in its influence. 
 
 The Gospel is working mightily in the whole Batanga district. 
 The very spirit of unrest manifested in the attacks on the mis- 
 sionaries, in the demand for industrial work, and in general dissatis- 
 faction with the instruction received, are all indications of growth. 
 Indifference chills, stagnation is death; opposition, even if misguided, 
 indicates desire for better things. A Benga proverb reads: “The 
 place of slippery rocks is not walked over twice.” I believe that 
 many who this year have been walking over “slippery rocks” will avoid 
 them in the future. In the Batanga church are many loyal and faithful 
 praying Christians who mourn the present condition of affairs in this 
 station. The missionaries have made -some mistakes, the people more. 
 Experience is a costly but efficient teacher. A missionary said to me, 
 “One learns to love these people even with all their faults, for they 
 desire the Gospel greatly. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” 
 The Benga have a proverb called “two friends.” One friend reproached 
 the other for not going to visit him. He replied: “The jug visits the 
 spring but the spring never visits the jug.” - Proverbs reveal the hidden 
 thought of the race. Possibly we have not fully understood the Benga’s 
 point of view. I can testify to most delightful spiritual experiences 
 with many of my Batanga fellow Christians. I have great hopes for 
 the future of the Batanga church. 
 
 Coincident with the sessions of the Mission meeting at Batanga was 
 the meeting of Corisco Presbytery. The opening sermon was by a 
 native preacher. 
 
 It was delivered in a simple, straightforward manner without the 
 slightest affectation. The African is a born orator. He, like Aaron, 
 speaks well. What most astonishes an American used to the rather 
 florid style and hortatory manner of the colored preacher in his own 
 land, is the dignity of manner, the repose, self-possession and genuine 
 simplicity of the African preacher. The Presbytery is composed of 
 
 four native ministers, eight white ministers (missionaries), one 
 licentiate, four local evangelists and fifteen students studying 
 for the ministry. 
 
 At least half of the white ministers are always home on 
 furlough, so that, as in this meeting, there is an equal number of 
 
white and colored ministers in attendance. The colored brethren take 
 their full share of responsibility and each alternate year the Moderator 
 is chosen from the colored and white ministers respectively. 
 
 The two most interesting features of the gathering were the exam- 
 ination of candidates and the joint meeting of Presbytery and Mission, 
 for the purpose of considering the question of “Self-Support.” 
 
 The examination of the various candidates was thorough and ex- 
 haustive. New candidates, of whom there were six, four from the coast 
 and two from the interior stations, were examined with great care 
 regarding their motives for seeking the ministry and their daily walk 
 and conversation. 
 
 For one solid hour two young men were examined in Church History. 
 With no apparent effort, save now and then a search for the right 
 English word, they answered readily such questions as “Name some of 
 the Apostolic Fathers;” ,“What was their work?” “Who were the 
 Apologists?” “What is Pelagianism ? ” “Semi-Pelagianism?” “State 
 the true doctrine ? ” “ What was the great question before the Council of 
 Nice?” “Name the important speakers?” “Who was the Morning 
 Star of the Reformation?” “What did Luther do during his year of 
 confinement in the Castle?” Question after question was answered in 
 a way that showed a clear grasp of the subject. 
 
 The “Joint Meeting” in the interests of “Self-Support” was a mem- 
 orable occasion and marked a crisis in the history of the Presbytery 
 and Mission. After two addresses by white missionaries had been 
 delivered in English and translated into Benga and Bulu, the native 
 brethren had their turn. One good brother, a leader among the African 
 ministers, said that he noted in the minutes of the General Assem- 
 bly many churches still under the care of the “Home Board” 
 (officials of the Home Board give ear to this voice from Africa) 
 and he thought it not fair to expect all the fourteen churches of 
 Corisco Presbytery to assume self-support at once. The hit was 
 timely and well received. 
 
 Another told how a few years ago he had learned a secret — namely, 
 that giving was an offering to the Lord, that it was worship. His 
 church now was self-supporting and last year had sent a native teacher 
 to the heathen Fang. 
 
 The most impressive address was made by a student in his last 
 year. He hopes to be licensed next December. His address was in 
 English and he read it. I give a few extracts: 
 
 “I have not seen a babe that has been bom about three or four 
 months let down to walk by himself without the parent or some one else 
 holding him and teaching him how to walk ; but the mistake here is that 
 they hold this babe (Corisco Presbytery churches) till the age of forty 
 years. You know well that when a babe is past three years and cannot 
 walk he is lame. So we are lame on self-support. We have not learned 
 to walk.” He then spoke of Abraham and Moses and Jacob and how 
 they gave to the Lord. He cited the history of Israel on the tithe 
 question. He told how he began at thirteen years of age to tithe and 
 how after these years (he is about twenty-four years of age) he found it 
 a great delight. “ I have a little bag and into this I always put the Lord’s 
 money as soon as I receive it. When the Sabbath comes my bag never 
 fails me.” Some good Christians in America might learn a lesson from 
 this colored brother. The whole Presbytery was stirred. Much has 
 been done — more will be. 
 
 38 
 
Batanga must continue to be the clearing house for the interior 
 stations. Eighty-one miles north and east is Lolodorf. From Lolo- 
 dorf to Elat, still going east and south, is fifty-one miles, while from Elat 
 to Efulen going westward is fifty-seven miles, and it requires a journey 
 of sixty miles from Efu- 
 len to again reach Ba- 
 tanga. The round trip 
 means a journey of some 
 two hundred and fifty 
 miles. The German Gov- 
 ernment in Kamerun, 
 like the old Roman, ap- 
 preciates the value of 
 good roads and it is 
 rapidly making them. 
 
 The one to Lolodorf is in 
 process of construction. 
 
 For part of the way 
 there is a hard clay 
 road some thirteen feet 
 wide, well ditched and in 
 places well bridged, but 
 ever and anon there is a 
 long stretch of forest with 
 only a narrow path, while 
 over the streams, brooks 
 and rivers, stones, logs 
 and trees often do for bridges. Much yet remains to be done ere 
 even this road will be completed. We met large gangs of workmen 
 cutting down trees or clearing away the underbrush or building bridges. 
 The work is not expensive. A few years ago the Bulu waged war on 
 the coast tribes for alleged robbery and laid waste the country, even 
 destroying factories in Kribi itself. The Government now compels the 
 Bulu to labor on the road a certain number of days of the year as a 
 sort of war tax. 
 
 At present no wheeled vehicle can make the trip. Horses if 
 sure footed, do very well. Donkeys are most serviceable. Bicy- 
 clists find the wheel convenient, albeit the hills are many and there 
 are long stretches where the wheel cannot be used, but a small boy 
 is always on hand, who for two or three fishhooks, the great treasure 
 of the African boy, will carry the wheel many a mile. The meth- 
 ods of travel into the interior most commonly adopted by the mis- 
 sionaries are walking for the men and the hammock for the women. 
 All food, bedding, tents, luggage, cooking utensils, everything, must be 
 borne by the carriers. The amount of the load varies from forty to 
 eighty pounds. Each load must be carefully packed and weighed and 
 assigned before starting. Hammock bearers have to be chosen with 
 much regard to both strength and disposition. A surly hammock 
 bearer is often a greater hindrance than a severe rain storm or a bridge- 
 less stream. 
 
 Hotels are unknown. Very little can be purchased along the way 
 — a few eggs, com for the donkey, occasionally some bananas — but 
 the trade is not sufficient yet to warrant the erection of any large 
 department stores between Kribi and Lolodorf. Nineteen men were 
 
 Departure of Missionaries. 
 
 39 
 
required by our party. To select these, to arrange their loads, to see 
 that they started on time and arrived on time was no small work. Yet 
 this is a part of the ever recurring duty of the missionary. Patience, 
 caution, attention to detail, discernment, fertility of resource in case of 
 
 need and an unfail- 
 ing good nature is 
 a most necessary part 
 of an African mis- 
 sionary’s outfit. 
 
 The Mission with 
 wise forethought 
 had appointed one 
 brother to look 
 after our comfort. 
 We made the long 
 journey without a 
 hitch or a single 
 accident worth the 
 mention. It was 
 not parlor car ac- 
 commodation by day 
 nor Waldorf-Astoria 
 by night. These will 
 come in time. It is only a few years ago that Mosilikatse, the wild heathen 
 king, ruled at Buluwayo. In a current number of the “ African 
 W orld ’ ’ I find the following advertisement : “A weekly fast train de luxe 
 
 leaves Cape Town every Wednesday, conveying first and second class 
 passengers for Kimberley, Maf eking, Buluwayo, and connecting with fast 
 saloon service, sleeping accommodations to Salisbury and Victoria Falls.” 
 No such train is advertised in the Kamerun. The good, staid, Presby- 
 terian mission caravan, personally conducted, while slow, is quite 
 safe and not at all uncomfortable. The average day’s journey is twenty 
 miles, although one day we made twenty-seven miles. This is as fast 
 as the carriers can go with their 
 loads. We left Batanga on Tuesday 
 morning early and reached Lolo- 
 dorf Friday noon. One of the mis- 
 sionaries during our stay made this 
 trip on a wheel in a day and a quarter. 
 
 Each trip of this kind spells to the 
 missionary ‘‘opportunity for service.” 
 
 At each town where we stopped for 
 the night a service was held. There 
 were times when the visitors from 
 America were too weary to attend 
 the service. Not so the missionary 
 and the faithful Christian carriers, 
 who were untiring in their efforts to preach the Gospel by the way. 
 
 The Way We Carry the Babies. 
 
 The Path through the Forest was Often Very Beautiful. 
 
 A MEMORABLE SERVICE. 
 
 One service stands out vividly in my memory. The day had been a 
 long and trying one. The sun-baked, red clay road wearied both feet and 
 
 40 
 
eyes. No friendly shade of overhanging tree to protect from the tropical 
 sun. All day it seemed like “sacred high eternal noon’’ save for a few 
 stretches of woods, and here the odor was like that of decaying cabbage. 
 No such exhilaration as one feels in traveling in the Adirondacks or the 
 
 Maine woods where 
 the fragrance of the 
 spruce or pine or hem- 
 lock act as a tonic. 
 No ozone. This day 
 we met many a car- 
 rier struggling under 
 his weary load, many 
 a woman also bearing 
 her heavy burden , and 
 saddest of all, little 
 children tramping 
 along with their loads , 
 anon resting them on 
 some friendly rock or 
 stump by the wayside , 
 the oppressions of 
 many generations 
 seemingly writ large 
 on their prematurely 
 old faces. The heart has been crushed out of the race by cen- 
 turies of cruelty. The sight of these little children with their eyes 
 cast down to the ground, not even looking up when we cheerily said 
 “M’bolo,” haunts me still. After the long day came the rest at the 
 town, and the early evening meeting at which one of our native evan- 
 gelists, N’denga, preached from John 3:16. The entire population of 
 the town seemed to be present. Once and again the evangelist 
 would stop in his fervid discourse and ask some pertinent question 
 to make sure that they were following him. A 
 low response would come from his auditors. A 
 single lantern on a small table in front of our tent 
 cast the only light on this strange scene, the peo- 
 ple crowded near, and far back in the dim light one 
 could see the expectant faces of weary men and 
 women and children. How very quiet when the 
 preacher ceased and poured out his soul in a prayer 
 to God for a blessing on the spoken word. It 
 seemed like New Testament times, “The people 
 pressed upon Him to hear the word.” 
 
 All along the way we found the people in town 
 and village eager for the Word. Even at midday 
 the head man of a town would ask the missionary 
 to stop “that the Word might be preached.” The 
 first night we spent in a Mabeya town. On an- 
 other day we were with the Bulu. The third day 
 we saw many Y aundi coming from the interior, a tall , 
 fine race of men, and not far from Lolodorf theNgumba and men from the 
 large Bene tribe who speak Bulu. Long before we reached Lolodorf we saw 
 evidences of the spiritual work being done in this centre of missionary 
 activity. On the third day near the noon-tide hour we rested at a small 
 
 N'denga. 
 
 41 
 
( town called Lam. Soon a group of school children sat down by us and 
 exhibited with great delight school books which we found were those 
 prepared by one of our Bulu missionaries and used in all of our town 
 I schools. Then the children brought out the Bulu hymn-book. We 
 began to sing a familiar tune. These small friends of ours in this far 
 away land, under the sheltering palm tree, joined us in this sweet song 
 of Zion. We did not know them nor their language nor did they know 
 us save that we belonged to the Mission. 
 
 Raw Heathenism. 
 
 At Lolodorf we learned the story of Lam, The work there was 
 the result of two young men who had no direct connection with 
 the Mission. A native Christian took the Gospel to this town. 
 A few were converted. One day a delegation of three Christians 
 from Lam waited on the missionary at Lolodorf and requested that 
 a preacher be sent from Lolodorf to them and a school established. 
 Up to this time no white missionary had ever visited Lam. In fact 
 for more than fifteen months there had been no white missionary 
 at Lolodorf, the work being entirely under the care of the native evan- 
 gelist. The request of these native Christians was granted. A young 
 convert was sent from Lolodorf to Lam as Philip long ago went down 
 from Jerusalem to Samaria. The Christians at Lam, aided by the Chris- 
 tians at Lolodorf, paid the entire expense of the school and the salary 
 of the evangelist. No money came from the Board. In the contribu- 
 tions of the Lam Christians were many motley and even pitiful objects, 
 but all helped to make up the required amount and showed the depth 
 of conviction of these young Christians. The head man (Buruk) was 
 converted. I saw him at Lolodorf on the first Sunday of the year 
 1905. He and fifteen others had walked twenty-seven miles to attend 
 
 42 
 
the service. He was a man of more than ordinary ability and his face 
 was radiant with joy during the entire service. He evidenced his faith 
 by his works. When converted he had five wives, one of whom was a 
 Dwarf. He provided for each of these wives save one, which he kept. 
 The Dwarf wife he gave to a 
 Dwarf man who had no wife. 
 
 In each case he refused to 
 take money for the women, 
 although all had cost him 
 money and it was like parting 
 with his fortune. Wives are 
 money in Africa. This man 
 gave up a good portion of his 
 fortune when he sent away 
 four of his five wives. The 
 Dwarf wife became a Christian 
 and is now in the inquiry class. 
 
 The head man himself has 
 done much evangelistic work 
 and bids fair to become a 
 great power for good among 
 his own people. At a Sabbath afternoon service, held a few weeks 
 before we passed through Lam, one hundred and fifty persons were 
 present. This town may become a centre of Christian influence for all 
 the regions round about. 
 
 As we journeyed toward Lolodorf, we passed a goodly number of 
 Christians en route to church. They lived two days’ journey from 
 Lolodorf. On their backs they carried their food. The pace, as with 
 Jacob’s caravan of old, “was the pace of the child,” for children were in 
 their company. Most of these arrived Saturday noon in time for the 
 prayer meeting held every Saturday afternoon by the native Christians 
 as a preparation for the Lord’s day. There must be some depth 
 of conviction when people will walk from ten to thirty miles 
 twice a month, carrying their own provisions, and all for the 
 purpose of hearing the Word. 
 
 We also met native Christians doing itinerating 
 work. It is the custom of the missionaries to send 
 out on itinerating tours members of the catechetical 
 class. This practice is a good one, since it trains 
 the native Christian; it carries the Gospel to distant 
 towns where the missionary cannot go, and it sows 
 much Gospel seed. Only those in whom the missionary 
 has confidence are thus sent out. We met some of 
 these workers, their faces beaming with smiles as they 
 saw the missionary and told of their joy of service. 
 During school vacation last year three native Chris- 
 tians went of their own volition and at their own 
 charges on an itinerating evangelistic tour. For three 
 weeks they preached Christ and Him crucified. 
 One said that if he brought back all the fetishes he 
 had gathered he would have had a great load. Another of these evan- 
 gelists cut a notch on the long wooden toothbrush, such as natives use in 
 Bululand, for each man who gave up his fetish. The toothbrush shows 
 more than two hundred notches as a result of one itinerating tour. The 
 
 Road Between Lolodorf and Elat. 
 
 43 
 
inquiry class at Lolodorf numbers more than three hundred. 
 
 From this large number only a few are chosen to do the work of 
 an evangelist. It speaks well for the type of Christian that any 
 can be found who are willing and able to do this blessed work. 
 
 It is well to remember that while Lolodorf has been established 
 six years, there was at the time of my visit no organized church. 
 
 Many had expressed a desire to confess Christ, but the 
 missionary with wise conservatism deemed it best to keep 
 them in the inquiry class until they were rooted and grounded 
 in the truth. 
 
 The most conspicuous object as you approach Lolodorf from 
 the west is Government Hill. It is a mass of red clay on the 
 summit of which stand the government buildings. The view 
 from Government Hill is one of the most beautiful in all 
 the Mission. As you pass this hill you descend to the 
 bridge which spans the Nlong River. A steep ascent brings 
 you to the native town and passing this you are at the 
 mission property. 
 
 The property is small, consisting only of twelve acres. 
 
 One wonders how so great a work could have been carried on 
 in so limited an area. The first building to attract attention is 
 the palaver house. It is just within the grounds, facing the 
 road. Like all the buildings at Lolodorf, it is of bark, a good 
 sized structure, 50 x 24 feet, one single large room, where car- 
 riers going to the coast or returning can rest at any hour of the 
 day or night. The carriers are permitted to eat their meals in the 
 palaver house, but the refuse must be cleared away before they 
 
 Tooth 
 
 Brush. 
 
 View of Lolodorf from Government Hill. 
 
 leave. A great street chapel would be a proper name for this structure 
 if it were in one of the populous cities of China. From January 5 to 
 January 26, 1905, no less than 3,197 persons heard the Gospel in this 
 pala.ver house. Carriers stop here who come from many days’ journey 
 
 44 
 
and represent many and varied African tribes. They do not always 
 in their short stay live peaceably together. One night a cry came from 
 the palaver house. We all rushed out to ascertain its cause. Two men 
 had quarreled; both were badly injured; everybody was excited. Men 
 with lighted torches were hastening hither and yon, all talking in excited 
 
 View from the Government Hill at Lolodorfis one of the Most Beautiful in all the Mission. 
 
 tones, and it seemed as if we were in the midst of an incipient riot. The 
 missionary physician, however, soon restored quiet, the men were taken 
 to the dispensary, their wounds dressed, and matters went on as before. 
 It is no small task to keep in order great caravans of men, weary and 
 irritable with their day’s march. The palaver house costs time and 
 patience, and some money, but I know of no single instrumentality in 
 all the Mission that sends the light of the Gospel further afield than this. 
 
 Nearby is the dispensary, a small room in one of the two dwelling 
 houses on the mission grounds, a busy place. Its patients come from 
 far, many days’ journey, to this haven of rest. I saw one poor woman 
 who had carried a sick child four days and four nights in order to reach 
 the blessed physician. Worn and haggard was her face. In her hand 
 she brought two chickens (alive), as pay for the medicine. The medical 
 missionary has no time to himself. I saw patients standing at the door 
 of his home before seven in the morning. They came when we were at 
 the noon-day meal. Their dusky faces were seen peering in the doorway 
 when the stars were shining in the evening sky. Time is no element in 
 the life of the African, he carries no watch. Patience is the crowning 
 virtue required in the medical missionary* for pain and suffering admit 
 of no rules. The weary traveler must be eased of his pains even though 
 he comes at the most untimely hours. 
 
 The most prominent structure on the grounds at Lolodorf is the 
 church. It is of bark, resting on posts some distance from the ground, 
 requiring steps to ascend, has a plank floor and a goodly sized tower. 
 Alas for the faith of the builders! We spent two Sundays at Lolodorf. 
 
 45 
 
Both of the morning services had to be held out of doors, the church 
 being entirely inadequate for the throngs of people who crowded to the 
 service. On the first Sunday morning there were 1,033 persons present, 
 and nearly as many on the second Sunday. A group of eager faces 
 greeted me as I arose to preach the Gospel of the grace of God. It was 
 a typical scene in the open air under the trees, a motley crowd, a few 
 well dressed, many illy clad, all apparently deeply interested in the 
 spoken Word. 
 
 In the afternoon we held a service for those who had confessed 
 Christ. The service was held in the church. It was crowded. A sign 
 “Standing Room Only” would hardly have been truthful. There was 
 no space not occupied. After a brief talk, an opportunity was given to 
 the people to ask questions. “How long after believing in Christ must 
 one wait to be baptized? ” This question has an added pertinency when 
 it is remembered that no one had yet been baptized at Lolodorf. An- 
 other question : ‘ ‘ How long was it after people accepted Christ before He 
 allowed them to be baptized? ” Still another: “Is it true that God gives 
 the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?” And one very pathetic ques- 
 tion: “We need more teachers, we are so ignorant. Can you not send 
 them to us?” We spent an hour in discussing purely spiritual matters. 
 Then one young man arose. He was a bright lad with open countenance. 
 One of the most encouraging signs at Lolodorf was the number of young 
 men confessing Christ. This young man said: “We have not much to 
 give, but thank you for coming. We want to thank the Christians in 
 your land for what they have done in sending us this blessed Gospel.” I 
 suggested to the missionary who was interpreting for me that there might 
 be others who wished me to bear their thanks to the Christians who had 
 sent them the Gospel. He interpreted my words and then at once five 
 hundred men, women and children arose. I saw twice five hundred 
 hands stretched out toward me, twice five hundred eyes beamed thanks, 
 
 and from many throats a 
 mighty shout, such as I had 
 not heard in Africa before, 
 rent the air. A great torrent 
 of feeling swept over the audi- 
 ence. It was wonderful! A 
 dash of the old life of the 
 forest, the old unrestrained 
 emotion curbed and disci- 
 plined by the new life slowly 
 awakening in their hearts. 
 A trader in Africa once told 
 me that a Negro had no grati- 
 tude. He was mistaken. My 
 observation is limited, but as 
 far as it goes I stoutly affirm 
 that where the Gospel has 
 touched the hearts of the Africans they show much gratitude. 
 
 Straws show which way the wind blows. The men at Lolodorf 
 sometime since resolved that they would not sell their sisters and daugh- 
 ters in marriage, and that in no case would they take a dowry for a sister 
 or daughter. This is a great step forward. The marriage customs of 
 Africa are the most subtle foes with which the Gospel contends. Polyg- 
 amy keeps more out of the church than all other influences combined. 
 
 46 
 
 . 
 
 r 
 
 Saturday Afternoon Meeting Conducted by Natives. 
 No Boom Inside. 
 
This action of the men of Lolodorf, even if it takes long ere it is realized, 
 means much. It means purity, it means family life, it means the basis 
 of a Christian civilization. 
 
 It may seem strange to Christians at home that no church has yet 
 
 View of Service — January 1 , 1905. 
 
 been organized, but the missionary knows the situation thoroughly. He 
 is building for the future. An undue fondness for numbers brought a 
 great king of ancient times into trouble. The craze for statistics is not 
 helpful. I saw nothing in all my visit that pleased me more than the 
 conservatism of our missionaries in baptizing converts. The Presby- 
 terian Church in America can wait for tabulated statistics while such 
 work as I viewed at Lolodorf is going on. 
 
 Lolodorf is a busy place. The store takes much time. The school 
 each morning pre-empts the time and strength of most of the workers. 
 There is no school building, the church is utilized for this purpose. 
 Proper classification of scholars is almost impossible. I saw little boys 
 with old men and women in the same class, all learning to read. It is no 
 small task to direct such a class through the intricacies of the alphabet. 
 Progress is often rapid. A lad who three years ago did not know how 
 to read is to-day teaching a school in a native town some miles from Lolo- 
 dorf. He has fifty-five in his class. In the report of the Batanga 
 Station it was noted that some of the best scholars came from Lolodorf . 
 The Lolodorf boy is pushing ahead. His faculties are sharp. Two 
 Dwarf boys in the school one day saw some bees flying about. They 
 came to the missionary and told him that honey was somewhere in the 
 immediate vicinity. Permission was given to search, and they soon 
 located the honey in a large tree on the mission property. They built a 
 fire and made a fagot of a stick with pitch, covered over with large leaves. 
 Then, after securing a long piece of string, one of these boys climbed the 
 tree. The other lighted the fagot, and the string having been lowered 
 
 47 
 
by the boy in the tree, the smoking firebrand was pulled up. It took 
 two operations to smoke out the bees. Then a small bowl was tied to 
 the string and reached the boy in the tree. It was soon filled with 
 choice honey and let down. The faculties are all right even in the Dwarf, 
 
 Interior Lolodorf Church — Satvrday Afternoon Meeting. 
 
 arm chair critics to the contrary notwithstanding. Lolodorf will yet 
 show Dwarf lads preaching the Gospel to their fellow countrymen. 
 
 The work at Lolodorf was made possible by the generosity of a godly 
 Scotch woman who desired to send the Gospel to the Dwarfs. A great 
 work has been done at Lolodorf but not many Dwarfs have yet been 
 reached. They dwell apart by themselves, the other tribes, either 
 through prejudice or self interest, placing every obstacle possible in the 
 way of the missionary reaching the Dwarfs. 
 
 A DAY AND A NIGHT IN A DWARF VILLAGE. 
 
 A visit to a Dwarf village was one of the most interesting of our 
 African experiences. By diligent inquiry one of the trusted native 
 Christians at Lolodorf learned of some twenty-one Dwarf villages within 
 a few days’ journey of the station. It was one of these villages, never 
 before visited by a white man, in which we spent a day and a night. Our 
 route lay by the new government road along Nlong river, and running 
 northward into the interior. After a few miles of travel on the main 
 highway we pressed into the forest. At the first town passed through 
 we were told that there were no Dwarf villages in the direction in which 
 we were going. This statement of the villagers was thoroughly char- 
 acteristic. They wished to lead us astray. Our guide, however, pushed 
 on and came to a village where he found a man who was willing, for a 
 small consideration, to take us to the Dwarf village. We were soon in 
 
 48 
 
the dense forest. The narrow footpath was at times almost invisible. 
 Even at midday it seemed twilight. Ever and anon someone would cry 
 out “Where is the path?” Great trees lay across our way. Under- 
 brush was so thick that it had to be cut with the knife ere we could pro- 
 ceed. After some two hours our guide stopped and enjoined silence. 
 His keen ear had detected the sound of wood chopping far away. He 
 left us, and in a few moments returned with two Dwarfs. It was a strange 
 meeting. We stood in the rude path in the forest across which only a 
 few straggling rays of sunlight occasionally managed to find their way. 
 Shadows were all about us. It was twilight at noonday. These children 
 of the forest eyed us suspiciously. They are a timid race and have been 
 much oppressed. In stature they are somewhat under five feet, in color 
 a yellowish black, with foreheads retreating, mouth and chin protruding, 
 the eye bright and keen, and the countenance pleasing and much more 
 intelligent than I had expected to find. While the lower limbs seemed 
 short and slender, the body was thick set with strong arms and general 
 impression of fine muscular development. They had few ornaments. I 
 noticed later one Dwarf with a bunch of black beads. Another had a 
 string around his neck on which was a small antelope horn. This man 
 was a rain doctor and this horn was rain medicine. At certain times of 
 the year rain interferes with hunting, and the rain doctor is called upon 
 to assist the hunters. 
 
 The only tattooing I saw was on the neck and arms, a series of irreg- 
 ular pyramids. It was most interesting to watch the two Dwarfs as they 
 led the way to their village. Not a stick was broken by their stealthy 
 tread. Hardly a leaf was moved as they pushed silently forward into 
 
 View of Service— January 1 , 1905. 
 
 what seemed a pathless forest. Soon we were at the bank of a stream 
 on the other side of which was the village of the Dwarfs. 
 
 I counted fourteen huts. They were not houses, only shelters. Two 
 poles a few feet apart driven in the ground with a cross pole between and, 
 from this cross pole other poles extending to the ground, the whole covered 
 
 49 
 
with sticks and leaves. One end was enclosed, all the rest open. This is 
 the home of the Dwarf. Built in a day it can be left in a night. A clearing 
 of perhaps half an acre had been made in the forest about the banks of 
 the stream and the huts were all within a hundred feet of the water. 
 
 Almost no articles were to be 
 seen in the huts. Small beds 
 made of bamboo, less than 
 five feet long and about a foot 
 from the ground, showed 
 that the Dwarf was not in- 
 sensible to some comfort. 
 A bamboo bed is not at all un- 
 comfortable. An inventory 
 of all the articles seen in all 
 the huts would include only 
 a few crossbows and arrows 
 with quiver, a small cooking 
 pot, drum sticks to kindle 
 fires, monkey steaks, a little 
 native grass cloth and a quan- 
 tity of cassava and plantains. 
 
 It is said that for fear of robbers the Dwarf buries his treasure 
 in the woods. When we entered the village not a woman or child 
 was to be seen. All had fled at our approach. Later in the day, 
 when confidence was restored, they all returned. One hut much 
 smaller than the others attracted my attention. In it was a Dwarf, 
 a man in middle life, who was in a heap in one corner. He was 
 a victim of an ulcerous disease, very prevalent among the Africans, 
 known as yaws. He was a most loathsome bundle of humanity, his 
 eyes nearly gone, his nose so badly eaten away with disease that 
 it was possible to see into the throat, his en- 
 tire face disfigured. I have seen wretched- 
 ness in the slums of New York, I have 
 looked into the faces of London’s outcasts, 
 
 I have seen battered humanity in the Chinese 
 quarter in San Francisco, I have passed with 
 a shudder lepers at the gate at Jerusalem, or 
 along the highway of Samaria, or at the an- 
 cient city of Damascus, but I never saw a 
 more wretched, sad, forlorn, utterly hopeless 
 son of Adam than this poor sufferer in the 
 Dwarf village of Africa. His father and 
 mother and brother lived in huts nearby. 
 
 The brother promised to go to the Mission 
 station and get medicine which the medi- 
 cal missionary declared would ease the pain 
 of the sufferer, but could not cure. The 
 Dwarf knows little or nothing of medical 
 science. Our trip to this village we felt would Bush iage h Where is the 
 not be in vain if this one sufferer could be 
 
 afforded even temporary relief. The little baby in the head man’s hut 
 was a wee bit of yellow and black, unhampered with garments of any 
 sort, but with a lusty voice out of all proportion to his size. He made 
 the welkin ring as the white stranger peered into his little face. 
 
 Dwarf Hut. 
 
 50 
 
It did not take us long to get on friendly terms with our little friends. 
 Seated around the fire, for it was chilly, the head man asked through 
 the interpreter the white man’s word for fire. We then gave him a box 
 of matches, having first lit one. A present of a twenty dollar gold piece 
 to a beggar would 
 not have been more 
 acceptable. On asking 
 him “ How do you 
 make fire?” he mo- 
 tioned to one of his 
 men, and two sticks 
 were at once brought, 
 one about a foot and 
 a half long, the other 
 not more than a foot. 
 
 The shorter stick had 
 a round hole near the 
 end. The larger stick 
 had a rounded point 
 which fitted into the 
 hole. He laid the 
 shorter stick on the 
 ground with the hole 
 turned upward. He 
 placed very near it a small bit of the dry bark of a tree used by squirrels 
 for making nests. Then taking the other stick in his hand he placed the 
 rounded stick in the hole and twirled it with great rapidity, another man 
 assisting by continually forcing down the top of the stick in the hole. 
 In less than a minute by the watch, he had kindled a fire. In the Dwarf 
 land we seemed to be very near to nature’s heart, back to primitive times. 
 
 In the head man’s hut we had noticed a small parcel done up in a 
 plantain leaf. This was now brought out, the leaf opened and the head 
 man putting in his finger took out some honey which he ate. The 
 bundle was a mass of wild honey, and it was passed to each one of us. 
 We should have expected this bit of old time courtesy in a cultured 
 Greek or a learned Roman, but I was hardly prepared to see such polite- 
 ness in a rude ignorant Dwarf who had not even the semblance of culture. 
 Having once tasted this honey we were now his guests as much as though 
 we had eaten salt with the most courtly of Orientals. A juicy bit of 
 monkey steak was offered us, but we declined, saying that we had much 
 meat, and in proof thereof, gave to our genial host a tin of roast beef. 
 
 A few moments before six o’clock we held a short service. Thirty-two 
 men and women and children gathered about the head man’s hut. Dark- 
 ness comes quickly in the tropics. There is little twilight anywhere, and 
 in the heart of the forest none at all. We had barely finished singing the 
 opening hymn when darkness fell like a curtain. A lad, very small, with 
 a most attractive face, who stood at the outskirts of the little group, said, 
 as the darkness came, “The night is here, I must go,” and he went to his 
 humble home. As I looked into the faces about me lighted by the 
 flickering light of the fire, it seemed to me alas, too true, “The night is 
 here,” but the faint light was also there. Close attention was given to 
 the missionary preacher, who spoke in Bulu; then to the interpreter who 
 translated his words into Ngumba, many of the Dwarfs knowing some- 
 thing of both these languages. Even in the Dwarf village they listened 
 
 5i 
 
eagerly to the words of the preacher. On inquiry next morning, we ascer- 
 tained that the Dwarfs had never heard before the story of the Cross. 
 When asked this question, the pathetic answer was, “We have been told 
 that the white man’s Saviour was killed by our ancestors, the Dwarfs, 
 and in revenge the white man has come to Africa to slay us.” Man’s 
 inhumanity to man here finds its acme of cruelty. Human malice could 
 hardly contrive anything more devilish. 
 
 These little people were most intent in watching everything we did. 
 The blowing up of an air pillow excited their unbounded curiosity. All 
 
 There was an Old Man with Gray Hair and Most Kindly Face. His Two Sons with their Families 
 
 Li ved Near Him. 
 
 had to examine the pillow, feel the air against their cheeks as we opened 
 the valve and see to what use this curious article was to be placed. 
 
 It is the custom of all African tribes on moonlight nights to engage 
 in sport. Drum beating and dancing constitute the chief features in 
 the African’s night play. It was a strange scene we witnessed that 
 night. The stars shed some light through the tops of the tall cotton- 
 wood and mahogany trees which stood near the head man’s hut. Two 
 torches made of pitch taken from the mahogany tree and neatly bound 
 with bush rope shed a dim light sufficient to enable us to distinguish 
 faces. All the players were women. Between two trees sat two small 
 women. One had a cutlass in each hand which she beat in perfect time. 
 The woman next her clapped her hands with rhythmic regularity. Be- 
 yond the tree was another woman with a small drum which she 
 thumped thumped, thumped with her fingers in regular time. The drum 
 was small, made of red wood, the top covered with an antelope skin. The 
 next woman had four sticks, in front of her a long heavy bit of timber 
 upon which she let the sticks descend with great rapidity, but apparently 
 keeping time with the rest. Next her was a woman with two sticks 
 which she beat alternately, while at the extreme end was another woman 
 thumping a drum. She seemed to be the leader wdiom all followed. A 
 low song with a peculiar refrain was sung all the time. At intervals, 
 apparently at the end of a measure or some pause (selah),the sound 
 would burst out with renewed vigor; weird music the like of which I 
 
 52 
 
have never heard. It seemed to partake of the wildness of the forest, 
 the call of the bird to its mate, the deep roar of the lion, the trumpet 
 tone of the elephant or the hoarse wind sweeping through the trees. 
 Even in the dance 
 which followed, men 
 being the only danc- 
 ers, there was nothing 
 objectionable. It was 
 the playtime of these 
 far-away people whose 
 amusements are none 
 too many. In an hour 
 all was quiet save for 
 the many and varied 
 noises with which 
 the African forest 
 abounds. 
 
 The Dwarf is a 
 hunter. No sign of gar- 
 den, no implements of 
 husbandry, no evidences of agriculture. His bow and arrow are 
 uniquely constructed and he knows the value of poison. One of the 
 Dwarfs showed me a bottle of “ strophanthus ” leaves, the poison com- 
 monly used by most of the tribes on the West Coast. I asked the head 
 man if he had ever shot a gorilla. He said no and that he had never 
 seen one save when a boy, and then with a merry twinkle in his eye he 
 told me what is probably a folk-lore story, for I heard it often. A boy 
 met a gorilla in the woods. The gorilla bowed, so did the boy; grunted, 
 so did the boy; swayed his body first to the right then to the left, the 
 boy imitating closely. All the time the gorilla was coming nearer the 
 boy and the boy gradually retreating. Finally the boy came to the 
 hollow trunk of a tree into which he crawled, The tree was too small 
 to admit the gorilla, so the boy escaped. Humor is the saving quality 
 in the mad rush of twentieth century life. The Dwarf seems to possess 
 a bit of saving humor. They are a strange people. There is a tradition 
 among them that once in hunting elephants their ancestors went as far 
 as the Campo River. Then this river was followed to the sea and word 
 was brought back to the people of the distant interior of the great and 
 broad ocean. This tradition is common among the Dwarfs near Lolo- 
 dorf. I also heard it at Batanga, eighty miles away at the sea coast. 
 
 We gained the hearts of these people by kindness. The whole village 
 came to the river to speed us on our journey. The head man promised 
 to send some boys to the school. There was one old man with gray hair 
 and kindly face who even shed tears as we parted from him. The Dwarf 
 has a heart. It will be no easy task to reach these people. They are 
 timid ; they are nomads ; they are apparently under some sort of servitude 
 to the larger tribes. I know not whether the Dwarf is to be placed below 
 the Bushmen, the Hottentot, or the Pigmy, but I am confident that 
 patience, perse verence, sympathy and Christian love will bring the lowest 
 of Africa’s children into the household of faith. No great results have 
 yet been achieved. The Ngumba will have to be reached before many 
 of the Dwarfs come to the Mission. On my way to Africa I met two 
 of the missionaries of the Church Missionary Society en route to 
 Hausaland. At Lagos two Hausa men boarded the steamer. They 
 
 53 
 
 Native Knives , Cross Bows , Machete, etc. 
 
were fine specimens of manhood. In their countenance I seemed to 
 detect traces of noble ancestry. They presented a most picturesque 
 appearance with their large high hats, loose flowing robes and em- 
 broidered sandals. The Church Missionary Society has been at work 
 among the Hausas for six years. They have but two converts and no 
 inquirers. We have been at work among the Dwarfs for six years and 
 have six converts and a few inquirers. The Hausa is one of the noblest 
 of African races as the Dwarf is one of the lowest. The spiritual hus- 
 bandman must wait long in Africa for the precious fruits of the earth. 
 
 The same vessel which took us to Africa carried a large package of 
 Bulu Gospels. These were sold to the people, the entire supply being 
 exhausted by the time of the writing of these lines. No blowing of 
 trumpets, the work of the translator, but it tells immensely among a 
 people who are literally without any literature. The paucity of books 
 in Bulu shows how new and how important is the work of the trans- 
 lator in the interior stations where Bulu is the main language spoken. 
 While at Efulen the first Bulu hand-book came from the press. It was 
 prepared by the Rev. George L. Bates, formerly a Congregational mis- 
 sionary, the vocabulary being furnished by Dr. Silas F. Johnson of 
 Efulen. Text-books are specially needed for training the native 
 workers. At the meeting with the inquirers, more than two hundred 
 and fifty adults being present, 
 six bright young men were 
 pointed out to me as possible 
 candidates for the ministry. 
 
 If character is to be read in 
 the face these young men cer- 
 tainly possess the qualities 
 needed in a native evangelist. 
 
 One afternoon a group of 
 young men came to interview 
 me. One of them could speak 
 English and he interpreted for 
 the rest. Here is a part of 
 the conversation. One desired 
 to be acolporter; another 
 wished to study medicine; a 
 third who was an evangelist 
 desired to learn to play the 
 organ in order that he might 
 use it in his itinerating trips. 
 
 A fourth asked if the grand- 
 children of those who first be- 
 lieved in Christ were alive, 
 and a fifth if Jerusalem was 
 still in existence and if I had 
 seen it. These questions show 
 better than any words of mine 
 how the truth is working. 
 
 These “bush people,” as they are commonly called, are awakening. 
 
 The present Lolodorf Station is small. It is proposed to make it an 
 out-station and to establish a new station some three and a half miles to 
 the west. I visited this proposed site. Here are two hundred acres well 
 located on the main road and bounded on the west by a new road which 
 
 r 
 
 Road to the New Station. 
 
 54 
 
leads into the far interior, over which thousands of carriers pass every 
 month. A palaver house on this road would duplicate the work now being 
 done in the palaver house at Lolodorf. The old station will be retained and 
 the new one can be made a strategic base of operation for the vast tribes 
 
 of the interior who are still un- 
 evangelized. A more hopeful 
 outlook it would be hard to 
 find than that presented in 
 the entire field at Lolodorf. 
 
 If Lolodorf seems small 
 with its twelve acres, ELAT 
 with its one hundred and 
 thirty-six acres is most im- 
 pressive. Spaciousness is the 
 impression left on my mind by 
 the visit to Elat. A few years 
 ago the German Government 
 sought to obtain the mission 
 property because of its strat- 
 egic military value. The old 
 station was on a hill and from a military view most valuable. The 
 Government dealt in perfect fairness with the Mission, paying for the 
 property and assisting in securing the new site. Never was a change 
 more beneficial. The new Elat is much superior to the old. The station 
 is some two miles from the large town, Ebolowo’e, and one hundred and 
 seventeen miles as the crow flies from Batanga, on the sea coast. The 
 mission property is admirably located, on rising ground, well removed 
 from any large native town, abundantly supplied with springs of clear 
 water, and having a soil apparently capable of producing every variety of 
 fruit and vegetable indigenous to Africa. It is scarcely three years since 
 the first clearing was made. Yet more than half of the land has been 
 cleared. There are two hundred fruit bearing trees on the property, 
 fifteen acres of plantains and bananas, one 
 acre of pineapples, ten acres of palm trees, 
 sweet potatoes in great profusion, and Irish 
 potatoes in quantities sufficient to supply the 
 station, to sell to government officials, and 
 to send to the other interior stations of the 
 Mission. The dwelling houses are all at the 
 western end of the property and a good dis- 
 tance from the main road used by travelers. 
 
 Sites have been reserved for additional resi- 
 dences as they may be needed. Well laid 
 paths, bounded on either side by luxuriant 
 hedges of lemon grass, run from the central 
 dwelling house in all directions. The mis- 
 sionary can in a few moments, traveling over 
 these splendid roads on his wheel, reach 
 every portion of this vast estate. A small 
 wagon is owned by the Mission and is found mreless Telegraphy. The Drum . 
 
 to be very helpful because of these excellent highways extending 
 through the property. 
 
 Elat is the place chosen by the Mission for its great industrial centre 
 and it is well chosen. The word industrial in this case includes agricul- 
 
 3fission Eesidence — Elat. Note fine lemon grass hedge. 
 
 55 
 
ture, carpentry and raising of cattle. One of the best built structures 
 I saw at any station was the leopard-proof house at Elat. This house 
 shelters sheep, goats, pigs and cattle. The policy of the Mission includes 
 the raising of sheep and cattle as a part of the industrial work. Fifteen 
 
 Mission Girls on Efulen Hill. 
 
 acres are already enclosed as a cattle pen. The native African, while 
 excessively fond of meat, has thus far been unable to successfully raise 
 cattle. Elat will be an object lesson to all the Bulu. This very leopard- 
 proof house is a forceful illustration of what the African can himself do 
 to defend his sheep and cattle against one of the worst foes with which 
 he has to contend. While it is true that the structure was designed 
 and built under the direction of the missionary, yet the work was done 
 entirely by the natives. The African imitates closely. A three-roomed 
 house erected on the mission property was first visited by a number of 
 men of importance from the nearby towns and then imitated. Once 
 awaken in the heart of the African a desire for better things and develop- 
 ment will follow. The beautiful Kamerun stools, made out of one piece 
 of wood with very indifferent tools, show what the African can accomplish 
 as a mechanic. A few days before our visit a leopard carried off a 
 tame chimpanzee belonging to one of the missionaries. The chim- 
 panzee was taken off the back porch of the Mission house, but Mr. 
 Leopard found it impossible to break through the stout, well-built log 
 house under whose protecting shelter were many sheep and goats. 
 
 The school boys are making rapid progress in carpentry. The new 
 church now in process of erection is to be built entirely by their labors. 
 The boys have been taught by the missionary to select the proper trees, 
 fell them, and by the use of rather a rough saw to cut them into timbers 
 suitable for building. The scholars have cleared and planted many acres 
 of the property. During the spring of 1905 the boys planted ten thousand 
 seeds of the Kicksia rubber tree. The entire cost per scholar for books , sup- 
 plies and food for eight months is less than $4.00. In a few years 
 all the food supply necessary for the six hundred boys will easily 
 be raised on the place. I know not where in the world $4.00 can 
 
 56 
 
be invested and bring larger returns than in the support of these lads 
 at the Elat school. 
 
 It has been well said “the black man, though so strong in body 
 and so unaspiring in ideals, has as a rule a strong objection to 
 continuous agricultural labor.” A few weeks’ labor will furnish him 
 food for many months. The men prefer to fight, hunt, fish, tend 
 cattle and loaf. The African merely scratches the soil with his rude hoe 
 and puts in his corn, after having soaked it in water to hasten its growth. 
 A small community of a thousand can clear the land and grow enough 
 yams to keep them. If the community increases they need only to clear 
 more land. The school boy is taught how to dig and plant properly. He 
 sees the benefit of such labor in the larger and fuller ears of corn. When 
 he comes to his town after even only a single term at school he is a bunch 
 of new ideas. The improved conditions of the gardens often are a tell- 
 tale revelation of the presence of a mission boy. 
 
 It is still the day of small things. The African is slow to change 
 the customs of his ancestors, social, religious or agricultural. The 
 only hope is to plant new ideas which will create new wants. The 
 school is a mighty weapon in the hands of the missionary in break- 
 ing down caste barriers which are as firm and strong as with the 
 Hindu. The total enrollment last year in the Elat school was three 
 hundred and thirty-six. Fifty boys living in towns four days dis- 
 tant were told to stay in their towns and fifty were sent away 
 entirely. One hundred and eighty new scholars in the primary class 
 were placed in charge of one woman at the opening of the session. 
 I have heard one of the principals in a public school in New York City 
 declare that eighty boys nearly drove her to distraction. Add one hundred 
 
 Church Service — Elat , Sunday, January 15. Half of them outside the building. 
 
 to this number and you have a class in the Elat school. I saw the school 
 in session. “Order, attention, diligence” were notes which I made 
 after two hours’ close observation of that school, from the work of the 
 beginners on rude charts to the highest class reading from Foster’s 
 
 5 7 
 
Story of the Bible. Be it remembered that no lad receives a free edu- 
 cation, that last year two hundred and fifty boarding pupils worked 
 seventeen hours a week in payment of food, and two hours for tuition; 
 that the day scholars also paid a small sum in cash; that these day 
 scholars walked some of them three miles, some six miles each day in 
 order to get an education; that these scholars came from eighty-eight 
 towns, representing eighteen different tribes, and that by a simple 
 announcement more scholars could be enrolled on the first day of the 
 new term than could be accommodated. It is remarkable the interest 
 the boys show. After getting only a taste of knowledge they go home 
 and organize small schools in their own towns. One boy last year 
 organized such a school in his own town at his own expense. The sta- 
 tion is encouraging the organization of these town schools as it relieves the 
 congestion of the mission school. Of course, only the merest rudiments 
 are taught by these boys in any of the town schools, but enough to give 
 the boys a start and relieve the teacher in the main school. The magnifi- 
 cent property at Elat makes this great school work possible and gives as- 
 surance that for years to come the missionary will be able to meet the ever 
 increasing demands on the part of the Bulu for the education of his child. 
 
 The church work seems to be on an equally large plan. It was my 
 privilege to be at Elat on Foreign Mission Sunday, a day long to be 
 remembered. At six o’clock in the morning of the Sunday we were 
 privileged to spend at Elat the great drum sounded out the “first call” 
 
 1,583 at Church Service— Elat, Sunday, January 15. Half of them outside the building. 
 
 for church. The Africa drum is a unique feature of African life. The 
 Elat drum is placed on a platform some twenty feet from the ground. 
 When properly beaten, it can be heard for twenty miles. The drum is 
 the wireless telegraphy of Africa. By means of it the African communi- 
 
 58 
 
cates all sorts of intelligence to distant places and keeps in touch with 
 events far removed from his own town. The drum formerly used in war, 
 now by leaders of caravans, consists of two metal tubes joined together 
 by a firm handle. The dance drum is often large and, when skillfully 
 
 A Mission Offering. 
 
 beaten, affords excellent dance music. The drum which we obtained 
 among the Dwarfs was small, but made precisely like the other drums. 
 The drum Sunday morning simply said, “All people come to worship at 
 Elat.” The sound was repeated at seven, at eight and at nine o’clock. 
 Every native who heard the drum for miles around knew the sound 
 as accurately as if a trusty messenger brought the word. By nine 
 o’clock every seat in the Elat school house (the church was blown down 
 a few months ago) was taken, and willing hands brought planks to place 
 outside where the worshipers could sit and hear and see the preacher. At 
 nine- thirty, fifteen hundred and thirty-one persons, by actual count, were 
 within sound of the sweet Gospel hymn with which the service opened. 
 
 It was a strange audience which greeted the preacher as he arose to 
 tell the “old, old story.” Every face bore evidence of interest, every 
 eye was fastened on the speaker, and a more orderly, attentive congrega- 
 tion it would be hard to find anywhere in the world. 
 
 Itwas Foreign Mission Day and thepreacher’s theme was “The Widow’s 
 Mite.” During the sermon he used a forceful object lesson. The meas- 
 ure of value in this part of Africa is the “kank.” The kank is a 
 stick of cassava, about fourteen inches long and an inch thick, done up 
 in a plantain leaf. The cassava is a tuber, the root of a plant much 
 thought of by the natives. The root is dug up and soaked in water for 
 many days in order to remove certain deleterious ingredients. It is 
 then crushed and beaten very small, when after a thorough washing it is 
 wrapped in plantain leaves and is ready for use. From one variety of 
 this cassava root comes the tapioca of commerce. The boys at the 
 boarding-school at Elat are paid one cent an hour for working in the 
 gardens. The pavment is made with one stick of cassava. 
 
 59 
 
The preacher took a stick of cassava (“kank”), cut it in twain, then 
 cut one-half again in twain, and then cut the half of the half, and held up 
 the small piece as illustrative of the amount given by the poor widow. 
 The audience watched and listened attentively, and then gave vent to 
 their suppressed feeling in one great “ugh, ugh, ugh.” It was evident 
 the point was understood and appreciated. 
 
 The great event of the morning was the offering. It was taken at 
 the close of the service. A platform had been erected near the entrance 
 and the people were bidden to bring their gifts to the platform where the 
 native elders stood ready to receive them. With much eagerness the 
 crowd pressed forward. Old women with wrinkled faces brought their 
 kank, or bundles of peanuts, done up in plantain leaves; young women, 
 whose apparel consisted of a plantain leaf in front tied by a bit of bush 
 rope to a bustle behind, brought wooden bowls or safety pins or spools of 
 thread; young men came with their gifts of fish hooks or sugar canes or 
 cash (German marks), while men old and young brought matches, gun 
 flints, baskets, etc. Nearly all the gifts were brought in plantain leaves. 
 It took a good-sized wheelbarrow to carry away the plantain leaves 
 after all the bundles had been opened. 
 
 More than five hundred separate offerings were given. Here is a list 
 of articles handed in at this offering for foreign missions. It is well to 
 note that a few kank constitute a fair day’s wage for a full grown 
 African man and that the great majority of these fellow Christians of 
 ours in Bululand are very poor. I have yet to see a Bulu house with 
 either a chair, table or lamp. It means something for these poor people 
 to bring an offering for foreign missions. This is the list : 
 
 6 * ‘kanks” micaba 
 269 “ peanuts 
 
 57 “ plantains (7 to 1 kank) 
 
 147 “ ngon seed — much prized 
 
 27 “ cassava 
 
 1 5 plain baskets 
 
 1 peanut basket 
 
 2 wooden bowls 
 
 1 5 boxes matches 
 1 pencil 
 
 1 bottle pomade 
 1 bar soap 
 1 bottle hair oil 
 
 1 aluminum comb 
 25 native spoons 
 
 2 ebony hair pins 
 106 tin spoons 
 
 i “ dessert spoon 
 r “ table spoon 
 1 package fish hooks 
 1 fish hook — tied in plantain leaf 
 1 safety pin — tied in plantain leaf 
 8 safety pins 
 1 file 
 
 1 spool thread 
 
 2 gun flints 
 4 yams 
 
 4 sugar canes 
 16 agate buttons 
 
 1 string beads 
 1 monkey’s tooth — used as ornament, 
 much esteemed 
 
 3 needles 
 
 1 small fish — much valued 
 2 1 fish hooks 
 1 German silver ring 
 1 brass ring 
 
 357 checks — given for work, equal one 
 kank each 
 25 marks — cash 
 
 8 cutlasses, small 
 
 1 cutlass, large 
 
 2 four yard cloths 
 1 plate 
 
 9 eggs 
 
 1 bottle — used for medicine 
 1 quart small egg plants 
 
 5 squashes 
 
 3 bundles shelled peanuts 
 7 chickens — alive 
 
 The people were fully informed that their gifts would be used in 
 sending the Gospel to other lands than Africa. It is a long step from 
 the raw heathenism of the average Bulu to the high grade type of Chris- 
 tian evidenced in the Elat church on Foreign Mission Day. 
 
 On Monday afternoon there was a gathering of more than five hun- 
 dred persons. Only those were invited who were Christians or had 
 expressed a desire to become such. At the close of the service the pas- 
 
 60 
 
tor proposed that the people should build a new church. The elder, a 
 short, thick-set Bulu, who wore a small shirt, a rough belt and tan 
 trousers reaching only to his knees, no shoes or stockings or aught else, 
 arose, and in an impassioned speech urged the Christians to rebuild the 
 “House of the Lord.” He 
 electrified the audience and 
 with one accord they agreed 
 “to rise and build.” The 
 pastor assured me that they 
 will keep their word. At 
 present there are only sixteen 
 members of the Elat church, 
 but the “nsamba” or “com- 
 pany wdio wish to follow 
 Jesus” is very large. 
 
 On the Friday preceding 
 Foreign Mission Day the Elat 
 school closed and there was a 
 grand wrestling match. The 
 “drum” was beaten all day 
 and it said, “Great wrestling 
 match.” Only one hundred 
 and fifty were present. It 
 was good wrestling too, and 
 wrestling is to the African 
 what football is to the 
 average American college 
 youth. The people showed 
 great interest. Each tribe 
 cheered its champion as he 
 went from group to group 
 challenging a combatant from some other tribe. There was deep 
 silence when the wrestling began and perfect stillness as the two 
 wrestlers engaged in tight embrace and struggled fiercely while their 
 tensely drawn muscles stood out like whipcords; and when one 
 threw his opponent his fellow tribesmen rushed in with the happy 
 abandon so familiar on the foot-ball field. The African enjoys this sport, 
 yet this day only a small number were present. The boys were eager, 
 school having closed, to reach their homes and tell what they had learned 
 during their long school term. At the last Yale-Princeton foot-ball 
 match there were thirty thousand people present. Something is wrong 
 with the African when only one hundred and fifty come to a wrestling 
 (foot-ball) match, and fifteen hundred attend a church service knowing 
 there is to be an offering taken for foreign missions. It is evident that 
 it will take at least a generation to train Africans to the high athletic 
 standard prevailing in many of our American colleges. Possibly, how- 
 ever, the Bulu Christians at Elat might give some American churches 
 a hint on how to awaken enthusiasm for foreign missions. 
 
 This particular Sunday was an exceptional day. Yet the other days 
 of the week seemed to be equally suggestive. Two of the missionaries 
 who teach in the school during the mornings spend two or three afternoons 
 each week holding meetings in the towns from one and a half to three 
 miles from the station. Two hundred and twenty-five such meetings 
 were held last year. During our visit at one such meeting seventy per- 
 
 61 
 
 Hospital— Elat. 
 
sons were present. The inquirers ’ class now numbers more than three 
 hundred. As the missionary pastor said, “It is larger than can well be 
 handled by one man.” The Mission at its last meeting did well in voting 
 to establish at the Elat Station a training school for Christian workers. 
 
 The Church at home will 
 never be able to send out 
 laborers sufficient to care 
 for these babes in Christ, 
 much less to seek and to 
 save the uncounted mill- 
 ions who have not yet 
 heard the Gospel. 
 
 The Bulu Christian is 
 not ‘ ‘ ashamed to own his 
 Lord or to defend his 
 cause.” Two of the school 
 boys became soldiers in the 
 army. On the Sunday of 
 our visit these two came 
 to the afternoon service, 
 bringing three of their 
 fellow soldiers with them. 
 The soldier in Africa has 
 much power and can easily 
 become an oppressor of the 
 people, or, if he is a 
 Christian, a great help to 
 the cause of evangelization. 
 It meant much to me that 
 these Christian boys were 
 willing, not merely to come 
 themselves for an hour’s 
 Bible study and to confess 
 Christ, but also to seek to 
 help their companions in 
 the same blessed way. 
 
 The spirit of these 
 people is most com- 
 mendable. During the 
 Christmas holidays the 
 medical missionary, who 
 is also instructor in 
 German in the school, took a number of the boys for a day’s 
 outing. They came to a deserted town. The town was deserted 
 because the government had made a requisition for eight hundred 
 men to be sent to Duala. The men of this town, fearing they would 
 be impressed in this service, fled to the interior, and the town was 
 completely deserted saving one old woman who was left in a miser- 
 able hut. The outing party found her at the point of death. The 
 poor old soul imagined that they were about to carry her out and 
 cast her into the river, a practice even now not uncommon in that dark 
 land. People who are aged or infirm are not of much service in a Bulu 
 village. Instead of this the boys, at the suggestion of the missionary, 
 carried this poor soul several miles to the Mission hospital. I saw her 
 
 62 
 
 The Challenge. 
 
 The Start. 
 
there being cared for by the physician and native assistants as tenderly 
 as though she had been in one of the best hospitals in our own Christian 
 land. This was the parable of the good Samaritan realized in 
 action. 
 
 A mission station is a school of applied Christianity. I wish the half- 
 hearted Christians in our home churches could spend a week in Lolo- 
 dorf, Elat or Efulen, studying the mission problem. One afternoon I 
 walked with the medical missionary through a large town en route to 
 the government station. We were to call upon the government official. 
 He treated us very courteously and the call was pleasant, but I was 
 much more interested in what I saw going and coming. In this large 
 town from nearly every 
 house, on both sides of the 
 street, as we passed, came 
 joyful greetings in which 
 I could always distinguish 
 the word “doctor.” On 
 inquiry I learned in each 
 case, “Oh, we have had 
 patients in that house.” 
 
 One poor old man whom 
 we saw could hardly 
 believe that Jesus Christ 
 would save him. He had 
 been very ill. The doctor 
 had relieved him of his 
 bodily suffering and mean- 
 while was pointing him 
 to the Saviour of his soul. 
 
 “What,” said the patient, 
 
 “will he save an old sick 
 slave who has nothing to 
 offer but a misspent life?” 
 
 I was pleased with the ap- 
 pearance of this man and 
 can believe what the doctor 
 said as we walked away: 
 
 “ He is now living a Chris- 
 tian life so far as I can 
 judge from all outward 
 indications.” 
 
 The head man of this 
 town where this work of 
 grace had been accom- 
 plished has twenty-four 
 wives. His sons are nearly 
 as well supplied. The hor- 
 rible tale of a single night’s 
 licentiousness in that town 
 cannot be told. The dark places of the earth are still full of the habi- 
 tations of cruelty and iniquity, yet out of this mire of sin grows the 
 white flower of a beautiful life. 
 
 The atmosphere of Elat outside of the Mission is still most cor- 
 rupt. Some years ago the medical missionary took to his home from 
 
 A False Throw. 
 
 And it was good wrestling, too. 
 
 ^3 
 
a neighboring town a bright young girl of eight years. Her 
 
 father had given her in marriage when very young, a mere babe, 
 to an old chief. He needed money and the chief was willing to 
 add one more to the number of his wives. At the time of 
 
 his death he owned sixty wives. The oldest son of the chief, 
 
 the father being dead, now claimed this young girl who had 
 reached the age of fifteen. By Bulu law she must be given 
 to him unless the physician was willing to pay what was equiva- 
 lent to $400. The girl had been under instruction in the school 
 and in the home. She could read and write and was a sincere 
 Christian. She simply refused to follow the customs of her race 
 and said that if the law was enforced she would flee to the 
 
 woods. The missionary is powerless in such cases. The government 
 will not interfere. One stands aghast at the difficulties of changing a 
 civilization where woman is so abased. Girls are married by their 
 fathers every year to old men because the father needs the money 
 which can thus be obtained. In this particular instance the only hope 
 for the young girl is that the missionary physician, because of 
 cures which he has wrought in the town of this chief, may be 
 able to free her. 
 
 I saw sick men and women with loathsome, ulcerous bodies stand 
 for hours at the door of the missionary’s home and wait their turn to 
 be treated. In some cases they journeyed not less than six days. No 
 missionary of the Board has been further inland than eight days’ jour- 
 ney from Elat. All along the way, however, in towns remote the mis- 
 sionaries of the Board find a most hospitable welcome because of the 
 work of the medical missionary which has preceded them. The medical 
 missionary opens the way for the evangelist. The wide field that is 
 thrown open from Elat makes imperative the request of the Mission 
 that a new station should be opened in the far distant interior. No doubt 
 we have the confidence of the Bulu people and of the Ntum people 
 and of other allied 
 tribes dwelling long 
 distances from the 
 Lolodorf, Elat and 
 Efulen stations. 
 
 The Bulu sees that 
 the missionary has 
 come to Africa for a 
 far different purpose 
 than that which 
 actuates the trader 
 or soldier or traveler. 
 
 No social settlement 
 in the world has a 
 more loyal constitu- 
 ency than that to 
 be found around our 
 Mission stations in 
 Bululand. The Bulu 
 Christian has a most expressive way of stating that he is at peace. “ My 
 heart sits down” is his word. The heart of the Bulu “sits down” when 
 he sees the missionary. 
 
 64 
 
The road leading to Elat from Lolodorf and from Elat to Efulen is 
 very beautiful. It is at times cut through the solid rock on a slope of 
 the hill with a fair valley beneath. The forest growth is most luxuriant. 
 The tall duma tree, straight as an arrow, or the beautiful ayos, branchless 
 
 for many feet from 
 the ground, oi the 
 great bearbau with 
 its massive trunk 
 thrown out like the 
 huge buttresses of 
 York Cathedral, or 
 the fine redwoods, 
 all so intertwined 
 with vines that the 
 sunlight fails to get 
 through save for a 
 few hours in the day, 
 make this trip, most 
 House in Which Dr. Good Died— Efulen. delightful. I measured 
 
 roughly one huge vine. It was not less than a foot in thickness, 
 a hundred feet long and stretching from one great tree directly 
 across the path found a resting place on three or four trees, and then 
 shot down like some huge snake to the earth. 
 
 Efulen is on a hill top two thousand feet above the sea, surrounded 
 by lofty hills, cloud capped and forest clothed. The view from Efulen 
 hill is superb. The station is on the summit. The mission buildings, 
 as you see them from the foot of the hill, give the impression of being 
 greatly crowded, an impression which is deepened on closer inspection. 
 The sides of the hill are, however, being cleared and room will soon be 
 afforded for the various new buildings which the ever growing wants of 
 the station require. Efulen is the oldest of the interior stations, being 
 established in 1892. At Efulen is the grave of Adolphus Good. 
 
 “Place a flower on Good’s grave for me when you reach Africa. He 
 was a classmate of mine in the seminary, and a royal fellow he was.” 
 So spoke a ministerial friend as we left America for Africa. 
 
 This parting request was literally obeyed. One bright morning we 
 laid the fair lily and the lovely hibiscus on the grave at Efulen Hill 
 near the stone which bears the inscription: — 
 
 REV. A. C. GOOD 
 CAME TO AFRICA NOV. 21, 1882 
 ENTERED INTO REST DEC. 13, 1894 
 AGE, 38 YEARS 
 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH 
 ERECTED IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE BY 
 TRINITY PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 
 MONTCLAIR, N. J. 
 
 When Dr. Good returned from his long four hundred mile trip to 
 the east and southeast of Efulen he was in the grip of the dreaded 
 black water fever. In tw r o hours his poor brain gave way and delirium 
 set in which ended only with his death. 
 
 His work abides. Efulen Hill is crowded with buildings, residences 
 of missionaries, a school, a church (erected by the gifts of the people), 
 
 65 
 
a hospital, a dispensary and many rude houses for the hundreds of 
 scholars in the large boarding school of the mission. In a trip made 
 last Fall to the Ntum people — a tribe Dr. Good himself visited — a mis- 
 sionary secured not less than seventy Ntum boys for the school at 
 Efulen. 
 
 On the Sunday morning that it was our privilege to spend on the 
 hill made sacred by the death of Good, more than eight hundred persons 
 crowded the “ House of the Lord” and listened with apparent eagerness 
 to the Word of the Lord. In the afternoon two hundred young men 
 conducted a prayer meeting in which not a moment was lost in waiting 
 for ‘‘some brother to rise and speak.” Everything was done in good 
 taste, no boisterous outburst in song or speech, but as dignified and 
 decorous a gathering as could be found in the best conducted prayer 
 meeting in one of our city churches in the homeland. 
 
 At the inquirers’ meeting on Monday more than two hundred and 
 fifty men and women were present. One old woman came twenty-five 
 miles, another twenty, several came twelve and fifteen miles. In the 
 front row sat “Nana,” one of Dr. Good’s first converts. Her face evi- 
 denced the Gospel which for years had been hidden in her heart. 
 
 Good’s first tour of exploration into the interior began in 1892. It 
 was on this tour that he selected Nkonemekak, called by the natives 
 Efulen, as a possible site for a mission station. 
 
 Good’s monuments are everywhere visible. In the church portions 
 of the Bulu Bible and hymn-book attest the tireless industry of this 
 great African missionary. He prepared the first Bulu primer, laid 
 the foundation for the first dictionary, and made all missionaries to 
 the Bulu his debtors by his diligent studies in the language of this great 
 people. 
 
 At Elat we were shown a tomato called by the natives “Ngoto.” 
 These tomatoes are found in great numbers in towns scattered along the 
 
 route traversed by 
 Dr. Good. He gave to 
 the natives the to- 
 mato plants and they 
 called the tomato 
 “Ngoto,” which is a 
 corruption of Good. 
 
 On Dr. Good’s 
 first trip into the in- 
 terior from Batanga 
 he encamped on a hill 
 near a town. We 
 stopped at this town 
 and found that its 
 name was “ Nkol 
 N tangan ” or “ White 
 Man’s Hill,” in honor 
 of the encampment 
 long ago of Dr. Good. 
 He won the favor of 
 the people wherever he went and the natives were quick to appreciate 
 his kindness of heart and genuine interest in the “Souls of Black Folk.” 
 
 At the “Bilobi” river, a great stream which must be crossed on 
 the way from Batanga to Efulen, the only bridge is a monster tree felled 
 
 66 
 
by the hand of Dr. Good and named in consequence after him. 
 There is now a fairly good road to Efulen from Batanga, well open 
 to the sunlight. In Dr. Good’s day it was hardly more than a path, 
 and for miles he traveled without seeing a bit of clear sunlight. He 
 was a pioneer. 
 
 Efulen is a city set on a hill. No better evidence of the interest 
 of the people in things missionary than the numbers seen at Efulen 
 morning, noon and night, Sundays and week days. They come for 
 various reasons, to visit the physician, to trade at the store, to bring 
 children to school, to have palavers settled, to hear the Word of God, 
 to grow in grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ. The patience of 
 the missionary, especially in settling palavers, was a constant source 
 of wonder to me at all the stations. I attended one of the palavers at 
 Efulen. A poor woman was the subject of the palaver. Her husband 
 had cast her off and taken another wife. Both were members of the 
 inquiry class. He was, of course, at once suspended. The woman had 
 been given to this man by an old chief. By Bulu law she must return 
 to the town and be subject to the old chief. The chief would at once 
 give her to a younger man to cook his food, tend his garden, wait on 
 him as a slave, only to be cast away as soon as he obtained money enough, 
 which she must earn, to enable him to procure a younger wife. This is 
 Bulu law. The question before us was, must she obey the Bulu law and 
 return to her town. We held the palaver on the stoop of the mission 
 house; the crowd stood all about us as this poor sister in Christ, true 
 and faithful and loyal to her church and her Lord, stood and told her 
 sad story. The German Government refuses to interfere with the 
 marriage customs of the land. “What can be done for me?” This 
 was her question. This was the query I read in thousands of care- 
 worn faces. Her case is typical. Only by a slow growth will a 
 public opinion be created sufficient to right these wrongs of African 
 womanhood. 
 
 One morning an old man from the far away Ntum country came into 
 the house. He was seeking his wife, a young girl of fifteen or sixteen 
 years of age, one of the pupils of the Mission school. I asked him 
 “How many wives have you?” He replied, “Four.” His face was not 
 unkind. He seemed to be a man with some gentle ways. The mis- 
 sionary by kindly word persuaded him to leave the girl at the school 
 for another term. It was evident, however, that he owned her, that 
 she was his slave and must obey him implicitly. This girl when a mere 
 babe was given by her father to this old chief, whom she has rarely seen 
 and for whom she has not the slightest esteem, love or affection. How 
 can you plant the Gospel in such soil? The girls’ school is not large 
 here or in any of the stations. It is most difficult to secure girls for 
 the schools. Every one of the twenty or twenty-five girls show in their 
 faces the beneficial effect of the Christian training they have received. 
 At any moment, however, the father or brother or so-called husband 
 can claim the girl and she must go. 
 
 The Ntum wear a peculiar headdress made of beads and cloth, 
 curiously interwoven. In appearance it is not unlike an old Greek 
 helmet. The Bulu men and women wear neck rings of brass, ivory 
 bracelets and anklets consisting of shells or nuts. 
 
 There are some bright hours in the life of an African woman but 
 polygamy casts its baneful shadow over every home. After weighing 
 carefully all the arguments in favor of African polygamy I am sat- 
 
 67 
 
isfied that it is the greatest barrier, not merely to the introduction of 
 the Gospel, but to the progress of the race. The missionaries are 
 unanimous in their refusal to admit into the Church those living in 
 polygamous relations. This works hardship at times. The innocent 
 suffer with the guilty, but I believe it is wise. 
 
 A large group of Ntum boys interested us 
 greatly. We were at Efulen in January. These 
 boys, when brought to the station the previous 
 Fall, seemed a forlorn lot, footsore and weary. 
 
 Now, cleansed, clothed, happy, they were living 
 witnesses of what a few months’ contact with 
 the white missionary will do for the bush boy. 
 
 The scholars longer in school showed even more 
 improvement. The recitation of the class in Ger- 
 man to which I listened would have pleased the 
 most captious of German officials. The dormi- 
 tories where the boys live are mere bark sheds 
 with double tiers of beds and open places in front 
 for the fire. One night we inspected these dormi- 
 tories after the boys had retired. So closely The Three X'tum School 
 packed were they that when one turned all must GirU ~ F Efuien. C<mie t0 
 turn. The bamboo beds seemed comfortable 
 
 enough and the fire serves the double purpose of cooking food and mak- 
 ing a smudge to keep off mosquitoes, a great boon in a mosquito-malaria 
 infested country. These rather dilapidated looking buildings, within a 
 few feet of the dwelling house of the missionary, are soon to be removed 
 and new ones erected on the slope of the hill. The school boys will do 
 the work. The commodious and substantial church and school house 
 at Efulen Hill were built entirely by the school boys. The “ dollar 
 house ,” built of the wood of the umbrella tree, was also a part of their 
 work, the total cost, $1.00, being spent for nails. 
 It was formerly thought that the wood of the 
 umbrella tree was useless. The missionary, how- 
 ever, has proved that it can be used in building. 
 
 The school boys coming from their afternoon 
 work armed with their various tools — cutlasses, 
 hoes, native knives and machetes — made an impres- 
 sive exhibit. The African does not love work but 
 he must be made to do the thing he does not 
 like because it is for his own good. One of the 
 best lessons taught by the missionary, both by 
 precept and example, is the value of work. 
 
 When the boys have done well during the 
 term it is the custom to give them some little 
 present. We were present at the close of the 
 school session when two hundred boys lined up 
 to receive their gift of dried fish. I never saw a 
 happier lot of youngsters as each one went up 
 to the store and obtained his portion. To 
 some of us the odor of this fish, caught off 
 the Norway coast and duly prepared for the African market, was 
 sufficient, but the African, who has little or no meat, is a lover of 
 fish. Some of the boys, like American boys at a Sunday-school festival 
 when ice cream is being served, after having obtained their portion, 
 
 68 
 
stole around back of the building and endeavored to get into line 
 again. The quick eye of the missionary, however, detected the 
 culprits and they went away amid the jeers of their fellows. The boys 
 from the same town or tribe pooled interests, put all the fish 
 
 into one pot and had a. 
 glorious feast. Anything in 
 the line of meat is eagerly 
 eaten by the African. One 
 day our carriers killed a large 
 snake. The head of the snake 
 was instantly cut off and the 
 body borne in triumph to 
 the camp. The entire carrier 
 force was in good humor for 
 the whole day. 
 
 The school boys also re- 
 ceive their pay at the close 
 of the term. It took three 
 missionaries one entire morn- 
 ing to settle all the accounts - 
 The boys pay for their food 
 in hours of work, a stipulated 
 sum for each hour. The food is purchased from the people who come 
 from nearby towns on regular market days. An opportunity is 
 afforded the boys to earn extra money with which they buy school 
 books, cloth or anything kept in the mission store. If at the end of 
 the term the boy still has something to his credit he can choose from 
 the mission store any article whose cost does not exceed the amount 
 due him. The sum is trifling, but it takes the lad much time to decide: 
 whether he will take home a new loin cloth, a fine red blanket, a cutlass, 
 a small pocket-knife, a book or any one of the tempting articles shown 
 in the mission store. The educational value of all this is too apparent, 
 to need comment. 
 
 The African boy seems very quiet and undemonstrative beside the. 
 American boy. He has not many forms of amusement. I watched, 
 three boys one day playing jack-stones. As far as I could see my young; 
 African friends played the game as it is played in America. 
 
 A favorite game is hurling the spear. A circle is formed in the sand. 
 A boy places a ring on his finger and pushes his finger around the circle- 
 leaving the ring concealed in the sand. Then all hurl their spears. He 
 who strikes the ring wins. 
 
 The boy begins burden bearing early in life. In all our journey ings. 
 through Africa we rarely saw children at play save the scholars in the mis- 
 sion schools. Nowhere in the world is the saying more applicable than in 
 Africa : “All work and no play makes J ack a dull boy. ’ ’ He loves stories 
 
 as does his elders. Here are two stories dear to the Bulu boy’s heart:. 
 
 The Turtle and the Antelope. 
 
 The turtle and the antelope had an argument. Said the turtle r 
 “Let us run a race.” Said the antelope: “And why should I run a race, 
 with the turtle? Would the turtle run?” 
 
 Then the turtle went and set all the turtles along the path, with red 
 marks on their faces — all the turtles alike. And they set the limit where, 
 the antelope should stop. Said the antelope: “Let us run.” So the 
 
 69 
 
antelope ran and ran and ran, until he reached the town of Nlo Mot6. 
 •Said he: “Where is the turtle?” Said the turtle: “ I am here; you didn’t 
 Tun.” The antelope ran again — ran and ran and ran, till he reached the 
 town of Nyabitandi. Said he: “Where is the turtle?” Said the turtle: 
 I am here.” So he bounded away until he reached the town of Asok. 
 Said he: “Where is the turtle?” The turtle said: “You haven’t done a 
 thing — I am here.” And he ran as far as Bilobi. And he said: “Where 
 is the turtle?” The turtle said: “I am here.” Then he gave up; and 
 he foamed at the mouth. He was tired of the race. 
 
 Hide and Seek. 
 
 A ghost and a man were friends. Said the man : “ Let’s play hide and 
 seek.” So they did. The man hid first. He was hunted and found. 
 
 Boys of Efulen School. 
 
 The ghost went to hide. The man hunted and hunted, but did not see 
 him. Said the ghost: “And do the man and the ghost play hide and 
 seek? ” 
 
 During our visit at Efulen, the pastor of the church was at home on 
 furlough. The acting pastor was a layman. On Sunday he superintended 
 the Sunday-school and preached. During the week he conducted the 
 inquiry class of two hundred and fifty, led the prayer-meeting, presided 
 over the session, w T as physician in ordinaire to all the missionaries in 
 the station, house doctor to all the patients in the hospital and the 
 dispensary, itinerator who in the year of our visit had traveled a thousand 
 miles on foot seeking boys for the school and preaching the Gospel in 
 many Bulu towns. He was superintendent of all building operations and 
 one of the authors of the new Bulu handbook. I have heard statements 
 that certain pastors in the homeland and even secretaries are over- 
 worked. My visit to Africa suggested the bare possibility that some 
 missionaries in Africa’s debilitating climate can lay claim to a variety 
 and extent of service quite equal to that of any overworked home pastor 
 or jaded secretary. 
 
 The atmosphere at Efulen is distinctively spiritual. At a meeting 
 of the Efulen session which I attended two cases of discipline were under 
 ■consideration. I was impressed with the deep spirituality of the entire 
 
proceeding. The cases of these two church members at Efulen were 
 carefully and prayerfully considered. Discipline and severe discipline 
 was imposed, but all in such a kindly spirit and with such evident tender- 
 ness of heart that one felt here was a band of men, native elder and 
 Christian missionaries, dominated by the spirit of love. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that at any one of the stations is there more 
 than a semblance of civilization. All is still crude and rough. On our 
 way to Batanga nine wild hogs 
 crossed our path. One morning 
 we saw many freshly made ele- 
 phant tracks, and this only a few 
 miles from a station. A few 
 days after reaching Batanga one 
 of the missionaries shot an ante- 
 lope within five hundred feet of 
 the mission hospital. In the im- 
 mediate neighborhood of the in- 
 terior stations, especially where 
 the government officials and 
 traders are located, there is some 
 manifestation of civilized life, but 
 for the most part the interior is 
 still an undeveloped country. The 
 real uplift of the people for a 
 large section in the Kamerun de- 
 pends almost entirely on the la- 
 bors of our small band of faith- 
 ful missionaries. 
 
 “Help the negro to help him- 
 self” is the cry of philanthropist 
 and educator in the United States. 
 
 The policy of the West Africa 
 Mission includes this and much 
 more. No better evidence of the genuineness of the Gospel work in 
 Africa can be asked than the rapid development of self-support in 
 the older coast churches of the Mission and the evangelistic fervor 
 manifested in all the newer interior stations. The cry “Africa for 
 Africans” is a real cry. The evangelistic problems of the Dark Con- 
 tinent can only be solved by the African himself. But he cannot 
 solve these problems alone. He needs our help. This is the 
 white man’s burden. The one abiding impression of “A Visit to the 
 West Africa Mission ” is the readiness of the people to receive the 
 Gospel. 
 
 0oen tn tbc £)toarf Pillage tljey listcncXi eagerly 
 to t\)t toorfcs of tbe preacher. 
 
 71 
 
Idol from Grave of Chief. Congo. 
 

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