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Page 8
At last the requisite permission came, and Moffat and Kitchingman
prepared for their journey. Waggons were bought, oxen hired, leave taken
of friends, and on the 22nd of September, 1817, Mr. and Mrs.
Kitchingman, Robert Moffat, and a missionary named Ebner, who, for a
time, had been with Africaner, and who had come to Cape Town for
supplies, set out on their way to Namaqualand.
The history of the Namaqualand Mission has been sketched in outline in
our introductory chapter. Africaner, although an outlaw and a terror to
the farmers of the colony, had a respect for the English. He visited the
missionaries on one occasion, prior to their removal to Warm Bath, and
said, "I love the English, for I have always heard that they are the
friends of the poor black man." He also sent his children to them for
instruction; yet subsequent events, as we have seen, enraged him, and
led him to destroy the mission station at Warm Bath.
The Rev. J. Campbell, in his first visit to Africa, 1812-1814, crossed
the interior of the continent to Namaqualand. During his journey, he
found in every village through which he passed the terror of
Africaner's name; and he afterwards said "that he and his retinue never
were so afraid in their lives." From Pella, where the mission station
then was, Mr. Campbell wrote a conciliatory letter to Africaner, in
consequence of which that chieftain agreed to receive a missionary at
his kraal. Mr. Ebner had been sent from Pella, and had been labouring
for a short time previous to his visit to the Cape in 1817. Good had
been accomplished, Africaner and his two brothers, David and Jacobus,
had been baptised, but then the situation of the missionary became
extremely trying, he lost influence with the people, and his property,
and even his life, were in danger.
Soon after leaving Cape Town, Mr. Ebner parted company with the
Kitchingmans and Moffat, and they pursued their way alone. The details
of the journey illustrate the difficulties of travelling in South Africa
in those days. "In perils oft," aptly expresses the condition of the
missionary in his wanderings, as he travelled mile after mile, often
over dreary wastes of burning sand, famished with hunger, parched with
thirst, with the howl of the hyena and the roar of the lion disturbing
his slumbers at night, and with Bushmen, more savage than either,
hovering near, ever ready to attack the weak and defenceless.
The farmers, from whom the travellers received hospitality as they
passed the boundaries of the colony, were very sceptical as to the
conversion of Africaner, and gloomy indeed were their predictions as to
the fate of the youthful missionary now venturing into the power of the
outlaw chief. One said Africaner would set him up for his boys to shoot
at, another that he would strip off his skin to make a drum with, and a
third predicted he would make a drinking-cup of his skull. A kind
motherly dame said, as she wiped the tear from her eye and bade him
farewell, "Had you been an old man it would have been nothing, for you
would soon have died, whether or no; but you are young, and going to
become a prey to that monster."
On one occasion Moffat halted at a farm belonging to a Boer, a man of
wealth and importance, who had many slaves. Hearing that he was a
missionary, the farmer gave him a hearty welcome, and proposed in the
evening that he should give them a service. To this he readily assented,
and supper being ended, a clearance was made, the big Bible and the
psalm-books were brought out, and the family was seated. Moffat inquired
for the servants, "May none of your servants come in?" said he.
"Servants! what do you mean?"
"I mean the Hottentots, of whom I see so many on your farm."
"Hottentots!" roared the man, "are you come to preach to Hottentots? Go
to the mountains and preach to the baboons; or, if you like, I'll fetch
my dogs, and you may preach to them."
The missionary said no more but commenced the service. He had intended
to challenge the "neglect of so great salvation," but with ready wit
seizing upon the theme suggested by his rough entertainer, he read the
story of the Syrophenician woman, and took for his text the words,
"Truth, Lord, yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their
masters' table." He had not proceeded far in his discourse when the
farmer stopped him, saying, "Will Mynherr sit down and wait a little, he
shall have the Hottentots."
He was as good as his word, the barn was crowded, the sermon was
preached, and the astonished Hottentots dispersed. "Who," said the
farmer, "hardened your hammer to deal my head such a blow? I'll never
object to the preaching of the Gospel to Hottentots again."
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