The missionary, Moffat, once came, hungry and tired, to a heathen village on the banks of the Orange River in Africa. He and his companions were treated roughly, and ordered to halt at a distance. They asked for water, but were denied. Moffat then offered several buttons off his coat for a little milk. This also was refused. The travelers realized that they must expect no kindness, but must pass another night without food and water.
When, however, twilight came, a woman appeared bearing on her head a bundle of wood. In her hand was a vessel of milk. These she put down before them and went away without saying a word. In a short time she came again with a cooking vessel on her head, a leg of mutton in one hand, and water in the other. Still preserving her silence, she prepared a fire and cooked the food. Of this feast she motioned the little company of Christians to partake.
After the meal, the native woman was affectionately entreated to give a reason for showing such unlooked-for kindness to strangers. Tears stole down her sable cheeks, as she replied in the Dutch language: "I love Him whose servants you are. Surely it is my duty to give you a cup of cold water in His name. My heart is full. I can't speak for the joy of seeing you in this out-of-the-world place."
And what was her history? She was a solitary light in a dark place. When asked how she kept up the light of God in her soul, she drew from her bosom a copy of the Dutch New Testament. She had received it in a missionary school. "This," said she, "is the fountain whence I drink; this is the oil which makes my lamp burn."