IT was not long after this that the way opened for Fraser’s return to Tengyueh, and glad enough he was to be in China again after four months’ absence. He had been not a little concerned about the Christians, few in number, whom he had had to leave amid the upheaval of the Revolution. Outward order had been restored after the inauguration of the Republic, but Tengyueh with its mixed population and commercial activity was a ferment of new ideas. Still the only missionary in the city and district, Fraser was thankful that his prescribed course of language study was almost completed, for there were many calls to other work. A Bible Class for young men was claiming his attention, and several, though not themselves Christians, were seeking his help in starting a Y.M.C.A.
I have at last finished my six sections [he wrote in July] and a load is off my mind. It is the consummation of three and a half years of study.... What a perfect ocean of knowledge Chinese opens up to you, when you have been at it a few years. If I were to be mainly engaged in work among Chinese-speaking people (rather than the tribes) I would never give up the study of this language, spoken and written, as long as I live.
Another world of living interest was opened up to him in the coming of a fellow worker who proved to be a typical American. Well was it that Fraser’s mind was hospitable to new ideas, for Carl G. Gowman was fresh from a responsible position in the head office of Henry Ford’s motor works in Detroit, and from a full course in the Moody Bible Institute. Fitting in admirably with his senior missionary (as to age, senior by only five days), Gowman was such a ‘live wire’ that Fraser’s outlook was considerably brightened. Those summer days (Gowman arrived in August) saw them down at the river for a good swim before six o’clock, when they had Morning Prayers with the household. Gowman had seen Niagara, but was quite enthusiastic over the Tengyueh Falls. He was still more impressed with the beauty of the mountains, and soon became interested in the tribespeople who frequented the markets.
More than this, Gowman was engaged to be married, and a new interest attended the arrival of mails from other parts of the province; for his prospective bride was at Tali, with Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Hanna, only eight days’ journey away. The rule of the Mission with regard to all new workers, both men and women, that they must be in China two years before marriage, worked some hardship in this case, for the engagement had already been prolonged on account of college and Bible studies. But the bride-to-be was as truly a missionary as Gowman himself; and saw in the waiting time a needed opportunity for becoming adjusted to the climate, language and ways of the people.
He was a bright, delightful companion, just the one I was needing [Fraser wrote of this new colleague]. He caught on to my interest in the Lisu, and joined me in prayer for fresh openings among them. I was more burdened about these people than anything else in the world, though the duties of the station, the claims of Chinese study and the upheaval of the Revolution had kept me from further contact with them.
A visit from a young tribesman, almost a stranger, seemed to come as an answer to these prayers. He was from the Lisu village of ‘Six Family Hollow’ and brought with him a surprising gift―a live silver pheasant, caught in the mountains. Unsuspectingly, Fraser accepted the beautiful bird whose brilliant plumage would attract visitors to the compound, only to find that it opened the way for an equally surprising request. The youngest son of the Tsai family was about to be married, and Number Five had come, in a word, to ask the loan of ten dollars for wedding expenses. Ten dollars! And the missionaries had made it a rule not to lend money.
About to decline, Fraser was arrested by the silent suggestion, ‘Why not ask guidance about it?’ Excusing himself; he went straight to his study and spread the matter before the Lord. The result was perhaps the greatest surprise of all; ‘Old Five’ returned with the ten dollars, to the rejoicing of the family, and Fraser received an urgent invitation to the wedding.
Always hospitable, the mountain people excelled themselves on this occasion in doing honor to their foreign guest. Slender bamboos were cut and plaited into matting for the walls of an addition to the Tsai family homestead. The roof was well thatched with grass and the indispensable hole prepared in the middle of the earth floor for the fire. Plenty of logs were gathered, as well as pine chips to take the place of lamps at night. Furniture was superfluous, save for a few wooden stools, and straw mats were provided on which to spread the bedding and whatever else their visitors might bring.
When the time came, the bridegroom himself arrived with his ‘best man’ to escort Fraser, Gowman and the baby organ (specially requested) to the scene of the festivities. It was a charming spot amid high hills and surrounding mountains, not far from the villages Fraser had visited some two years previously. Gowman was disappointed to find that the hamlet was small―only three families, two of whom were Chinese―but that one Lisu household, as it proved, was the pivot upon which a great movement was to turn.
Arriving several days before the wedding, Fraser was able to make friends with his hosts, including daughters-in-law and children, before the general hubbub began. He soon discovered that the old mother was very much the head of affairs. Left a widow with land as well as children, she had secured help by marrying a good farmhand. The family had prospered through her unusual strength of character, until now they were taking a wife for the sixth and youngest son. Busy as they were, Mother Ts’ai found time to sit by the fire now and again, listening, to the talk of her foreign guests. She was interested in the prayers and singing in a way that revealed real hunger of heart. Needless to say, Fraser made the most of his opportunity, both before and after the bride arrived. Of the wedding itself he wrote in some detail.
The bridegroom looked fine, something like a Highlander in full dress, but neither he nor the bride figured largely in the proceedings, save as waiting upon other people.... The only real ceremony was when the girl actually entered the house. Brought from her own village by about twenty of her relatives, she and other girls had had to stand at a little distance from the bridegroom’s home for some time. Then her mother-in-law and another old dame went down and escorted her, one on each side, up the steps and into the house. There was a bridesmaid with her too. Just as they were going in at the door, four shots were fired by muskets of a William the Conqueror type, this being the moment of the whole occasion.
After this, there followed a whole lot of drinking in an orderly kind of way, which seemed to be drinking the health of the new couple. Two people came forward at a time, each took a big bowl of their native wine (made from glutinous rice) made a low bow, which was returned by the officiating people, bowed round to a few others and, then drank it all, returning the empty bowls with another low bow. The bridegroom and his best man stood nearby all the while, bowing every time the others did. This went on for a long time. It was not as monotonous as you might think, for other guests were walking about, chatting and laughing all the time.... Along with the bowls of wine, a lump of cold pork was presented to each one. We took our pieces like the rest (though not the wine, by previous arrangement) and were supposed to eat them. Fancy taking a piece of fat pork in your hands! Gowman, I believe, ate his, but they brought me a plantain leaf in which I wrapped mine.
Two nights and days were given up to the revelry that followed, about a hundred guests having assembled. With the usual ring dancing Fraser was already familiar, but on this occasion the bride’s relatives led off with new steps, including a sort of clog dance in which she took part.
Three girls, one boy and a man stood in a line [as Fraser wrote], the girls with their arms round each other. Further away was another boy, the bride’s brother, with a kind of guitar, and beyond him another man. They all faced the same way and, without turning, just kept step to the music. I should like you to have seen it! The dress of the girls beggars description. Indeed, all the women wear gorgeous dresses on occasion.... Some of them look very handsome. Gowman took a photo of four―two facing one way and two another, so that you can have both back and front views. They go in for very loud chequerwork, with large squares of all sorts of colors. They have big headdresses too, and a great variety of beads, bangles, necklaces, bracelets and what not!
As the confusion increased, more and more of the crowd becoming intoxicated, Fraser asked a middle-aged woman whether she thought so much drinking was a good thing.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, surprised at the question, ‘it’s more fun when you get tipsy!’
It was not possible to do much under these circumstances but talk to changing groups round the baby organ. Fraser had brought hymn sheets written out in large Chinese characters, and as both he and Gowman had good voices they were able to sing and explain the ‘Old, old Story,’ in a simple but effective way, hour after hour. It was a relief to the Tsai family no less than to their visitors when the last wedding guests departed and they could gather in the living room at night, the great occasion over and only cheerfulness within. Snow had fallen on the distant Salween Range and the tang of winter in the air made them seek the fireside―dogs, chickens, children and all―despite clouds of smoke till the logs burned red. Then, with the baby organ in the circle round the glowing embers, they sang hymns and choruses and talked over the Good News far into the night. Mother Tsai had many questions to ask, and Fraser was glad that his Christian cook was with them to help, making clear to her mind the great truths she was drinking in for the first time.
For a whole week the missionaries stayed on after the wedding, visiting other villages in the daytime, including one where Fraser found an empty house which fitted in with his desire to visit the district frequently without being dependent upon hospitality. Up there at ‘The Valley of Ease’ the Headman of some twenty Lisu families showed no little interest in the Gospel. One longer expedition was made to Trinket Mountain, to revisit the Koh household of whom Fraser had not heard for some time. It was disappointing to find only the old father at home. He was glad to see his missionary friend again and wanted the party to stay all night, but he was suffering so much from his eyes that it seemed kinder not to prolong the visit. Fraser had already been absent from Tengyueh for ten days, and Gowman was none too well after his first experience of roughing it in the mountains. So a last night was spent at Six Family Hollow, to confirm the Ts’ais in their newfound faith and show them how to bring all that was in their hearts to God in prayer. They did not know how to pray in Lisu they said, but Fraser explained that the Lord understood Chinese quite as well as their more familiar language. So they parted, cheered to think that they would often meet in the city.
How clean and spacious the mission house looked, for all its simplicity, when Fraser and Gowman returned to Tengyueh! And they had come back to new and heart-moving experiences. Years of faithful seed-sowing had borne fruit at last, and the time had come to inaugurate a Christian church in that southwest corner of China. Tengyueh was to witness its first baptisms, and though the number to confess Christ was not large, they were precious trophies of His grace.
The spirit of it all was very beautiful, as it comes out in letters written at the time. One can almost see the quiet stretch of the river near the falls, where the water was a convenient depth and an arched bridge provided a place, just above, where onlookers could stand and hear every word. The four to be received included Mrs. Li, though she was not baptized until Mrs. Embery returned. Three men went down with Fraser into the river, a cultured teacher taking his place gladly beside the Christian cook and Tang the water carrier, a humble soul who loves the Word of God
It all went off without a hitch [Fraser wrote of that Sunday]. After the baptism I stood where I was in the middle of the river and preached to the onlookers on the bridge... It struck me afresh what a beautiful and simple ceremony it is―God’s open air and God’s flowing water seemed far more fitting and natural than any baptistry indoors.
At the Communion Service afterwards, Mrs. Li joined the others in remembering the dying, never-dying love of Christ at His table. The care of this little flock and of his beloved Lisu filled Fraser’s heart in those days, but not to the exclusion of the crowds in the city streets. Open-air work was no easier than it had been, but he was more than ever conscious of the deep inward compulsion, ‘Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel’. He writes of this so naturally that one can see the true missionary impulse, born of the Spirit.
When utterly disinclined to go and stand up on a stool in the street and preach to an indifferent crowd, I have felt an inward urging which I could not resist. It is like so much pent-up Gospel inside you, which must have outlet. Last week, on Friday, I was prevented from going out as usual to preach, and tried to satisfy myself with the resolve to do so next day instead. But on Saturday the very same thing happened, and by the time for the evening prayer meeting I had let another day go by without this witness. But I felt just as ill at ease as could possibly be. All my peace of mind was gone... and I was impatient for the meeting to be over.
When it ended, I could stand the conflict no longer, but had to go out on the main street, late though it was, get up on a form and give my message to the people. This done, I was as happy as could be!... It is a fine thing to have God call you to work with Him, isn’t it? But finer still, I think, to have Him make you do it.