R. PATON’S work in Tanna, so full of tragic incidents and trials, was apparently without much fruit amongst the cannibals on that island, but here is a story which shows that the seed sown in those early pioneer days struck root.
Twenty years or more after Dr. Paton had paid a visit to a fierce cannibal tribe in the interior―towards the west coast, as we gather―there came two old chiefs through the bush. A toilsome and dangerous journey did not deter them. They sought the missionary stationed at Weasisi, on the east coast, towards the north end of Tanna.
Mr. Gray was surprised at the two strange old men approaching the Mission station. Their appearance was such as to excite curiosity and awaken keen interest. They were strangers from a dark cannibal tribe, he gathered. The surprise, however, was not in this, but in the fact that each of them was wearing a very old, threadbare, and dilapidated shirts Heathen, as the missionary knew to his sorrow, despise clothing of any sort, so that Mr. Gray’s interest was thoroughly aroused by his strange visitors. Asked their errand, they at once disclosed in eager tones that they had come to seek a missionary, or at least a native teacher, to come into the interior and teach them and their people about “the Jehovah Jesus God.” “But,” said Mr. Gray, “how do you know about Jehovah?” “Oh,” they said, “don’t you see we are Christians? Don’t you see we have on shirts―that we wear the clothing of the Christians?” “Where did you get them, and when, and how?” came quickly from the now thoroughly-aroused missionary. “Well,” they said, “a long, long time ago the Missi that lived on this island (their description showed that it was Dr. Paton) came to our district and told us about the Jehovah Jesus God ; and when he left us he gave us these shirts and told us we should worship Jehovah and give up war ; and he said we should not work on the Sabbath, and should wear our shirts. And ever since we have put on our shirts every Sabbath and had worship, and told our young men not to work.” “But how do you worship?” enquired Mr. Gray. “Oh, we put on our shirts, and we sit round with the young men and say we won’t work; and when they get tired, and we don’t know what to do, we tell them to hold on, and we say: How happy we shall be when someone comes to tell us about the Jehovah God.”
Thus, for twenty long years, a faint glimmer of light had been maintained in the hearts of these poor heathen, who long so intensely for the knowledge of the True and Living God.
The sequel to this moving incident is the advent of our own missionary, Dr. Paton’s son, who goes to the interior from the west coast to tell the story of Jesus and His love to the two old chiefs, if still alive, or at least to their people. God has heard their cry for light. May He now enlighten and save.
The above is taken from “Quarterly Jottings from the New Hebrides.”
ROM “India’s Women” we take an interesting little story about the goddess The illustration opposite is the form of the idol under which she is worshipped in parts of India. To her honor the Thugs commit their atrocious murders. The husband of this goddess was, according to the Hindu tradition, as bad as it is possible to be; yet he is very widely worshipped. Lâ-li, in our illustration, is dancing with joy, because her enemies are all overcome. Kâ-li is supposed to be delighted with the smell of blood, but, under British rule, human sacrifices to her glory are no longer lawful.
“A young girl, one of our pupils, who is anxious for baptism, was taken with her two younger sisters to Ka-li Ghat. On arriving, they were told to worship the idol. This they refused, saying it was the work of men’s hands. ‘We will worship the one true God, Jesus,’ they added, ‘Who died for us on the Cross.’
“For this they were beaten by their father. Their landlord, too, was very much enraged, and said to them, ‘If you will not worship Kâ-li, I will set the devil on you.’
“The little ones bravely answered, ‘No devils can hurt those who worship Jesus; the devils can only hurt devil-worshippers.’
“The people present were also angry, and said, ‘These children’s heads are turned through going to school.’ Some were determined that they should throw ghee into the fire and call out to Kâ-li. Seeing that they could not resist the furious crowd, the children threw the ghee, and prayed that God would pardon their sin.
“It was at last decided that they should be kept away from school. They prayed earnestly that their father would change his mind and send them back. God indeed heard their cry, and they continue coming.”
From the little child let us now turn to the aged.
“There came to the mission house a message. It was from an old woman of a hundred: ‘Ask that Bible-woman to come and see me again. She told me of Some One who could take me over the river of death―a Saviour. May she come and see me again.’
“The Bible-woman was out of the way, and the English missionary went in her stead. Arrived at the Indian house, after the usual Oriental salutations, she looked round for the chief object of her visit, the old woman of a hundred, but did not see her.
“‘Where is she?’ she asks. ‘She is very old,’ they answer; ‘she has outstayed her time, and we have laid her in yonder cowshed, across the yard.’
“‘Why have you done so to her?’ enquired the English lady, choking down her Christian indignation.
“‘It was her own desire,’ they answered. ‘She told us that if we laid her there, she would need none to attend to her, and she would be less trouble to us.’
“‘May she come and speak to me here?’ asked the visitor.
“‘She will be very glad to,’ they answer. ‘It is very cold for her where she lies, and she will be warm here in the sun.’
“They brought her out of the cowshed. Across the yard they carried her―rather, they dragged her. At the feet of the English lady they laid her―more nearly flung her―down on the asphalt floor.
“In miserable plight she lay. In pain and misery all over, in utter bodily wretchedness, she was not able even to lie down, but only could sustain herself upon her hands and knees.
“‘Stoop down,’ she said to the lady, ‘that I may be able to see your face.’
“She did so, and then the poor old woman of a hundred, laying her weary head between her thin hands, feebly uttered her prayer ‘Oh, Lord Jesus, save me ; wash me from my sins ; take me over the river of death.’ Then the mind seemed for a moment to wander, and she could only utter, ‘Jesus, Jesus.’”