Oct. 10^th 1903. Kijabe B.E.A.                                                                                                Index

Miss Florence Minch,
Naperville, Ill.

My dear friend:
        It is morning here now. I suppose with you it is not much past midnight. The sun is shining very bright. I am about a quarter of a mile away from the house. There is a little mountain stream trickling at my feet, which runs down through a deep valley coming down the mountain. The high banks on both sides are covered with beautiful green trees, mostly cedars and wild olives, both of which grow quite tall, and are very beautiful. There are also many pretty bushes and flowers, and many different kinds of ferns. I have been out here a few times to be alone for prayer, and have found it so very beautiful that I came down this morning with my books and papers to study. While I was gathering up my things I came across some of your letters, and when no one was looking slipped them into my pocket, and brought them along. Funny isn’t it how one likes to read letters especially when they are the right kind. Of course Mr. Hurlburt thinks I am down here working hard at the Masai language. If he knew that I have been reading your letters, and am now writing, I expect he would be down here with a switch. There is a nice old green mossy log lying near me. I wish you were sitting on it, so that I could tell you what I want to say, rather than write it. If you were there I would get up right now, and give you a jolly little squeeze. Wouldn’t that be fine. But I guess I had better turn off on something else, otherwise you might think I am getting sentimental. We will let these things go until some later day, but sometimes it does seem to me I am getting to be such an old bachelor, that it is soon time for something else. Think of it. I am letting my whiskers grow, simply to look horrid. You know there are three old maids here. Whatever you do don’t be an old maid, and I am not saying this for my own interest either. But what’s the matter with me this morning. I was going to write you a nice letter, and here I am talking about old maids. Well I will try again and see if I cant think of something better. There are so many things I would like to tell you that I hardly know where to begin. But I guess I will tell you about the monkeys. Monkeys are better than old maids after all, but even this doesn’t seem quite sensible. Florence you must excuse me if I get a little foolish once in a while. It seems that even as a missionary I get some of those spells I used to get up in old Laco Hall, but I praise God for it. I dont want to become sour and sober even if I am here, and I dont think you want me to, so I will tell you about the monkeys. There are several kinds of monkeys here. There is one kind called the Colobus which is very pretty. It is quite large and has very long hair. It is of a jet black color, with two pretty white stripes on the sides, and a long bushy white tail, which looks very much like the tail of a horse. We have seen quite a number of them, but they are so shy that we cannot catch them. There are some other small monkeys, but there is one large one called the dog-faced baboon. You can find his picture in almost any natural history. He is quite large, and the ugliest looking beast I have ever seen. This is the one that I mean is better than an old maid. The reason why I tell you about the baboon, is because we had quite an excitement one morning with baboons. We were eating breakfast when suddenly we heard a tramping through the brush, and brother baboon makes his appearance. We saw old man baboon, mother baboon, Johnie baboon, Eddie baboon and his brother Bill, and the whole family. Old man baboon must be prospering because that morning there was about 30 in his family. It seemed he recognized us at once and wanted to pay us a visit, but his family was too large, we couldn’t afford to give them all breakfast so old man baboon got mad, and went for our garden. We couldn’t stand such an insult, so we got out our guns, and a battle took place at once. Johnie baboon began to cry so we took pity on them, and after firing a few shots over their heads we succeeded in driving them away without any blood shed, but the old man was awfully mad. Well so much for the monkies. I want to tell you a snake story. Mr. Hurlburt and myself go off every Sunday to visit native villages, and preach to the people. We have grand times I wish you could go along once. Last Sunday night just after we got back we heard an awful noise and excitement among our natives (we have about sixty to work for us) one came running in yelling “ngoka ngoka”. It seemed a snake had gotten into one of their huts. We took some native bows and arrows, and went down and sure enough off in one corner lay a large puff adder, a very dangerous snake, the only one however I have seen since I have been here, snakes are very rare. We had quite an exciting time, but finally succeeded in killing it. I tied a string around its neck, and hung it on a tree, and the next morning went down and got the skin, so now I am the proud possessor of a fine adder skin, one of Africa’s most dangerous snakes.

        Off in the plains about 15 miles from here is Mt. Longonot. It is a large volcanic mountain with an immense crater. The crater is 800 ft. deep and two miles across from rim to rim. Mr. Kreiger one of our missionaries was here last week, and he and I decided we would see the volcano. We started off early one morning, climbed the mountain (I wish you could hear what I hear now. There is a little native boy below in the valley, singing O the precious name of Jesus, in his own language. Think of it. Here only two months and the boys already singing Gospel songs. Does that seem as though these people are not ready to receive the Gospel. I am awfully surprised to find them so bright and intelligent) but about the mountain. We climbed it and walked about 35 miles, and got back the same evening. How is that for walking. Oh we did have a grand time, but I want to tell you about another trip I made. There is a young Englishman working here on the Uganda railway. He is an officer and has one of those small trolley cars. He and I are quite fast friends, and he invited me to go with him to lake Naivasha on a hunt. I was glad for the opportunity because game laws are very strict here, a hunting license costing 50 dollars, and he had a license so that was my only chance to go on a hunt in Africa. Our object was to go to the lake, and shoot a hippopotamus. We started on Monday morning with two Indians to shove the car. Most of the way was down grade so in a few minutes our car was flying toward the lake like the wind. We went about 20 miles when one of the Indians suddenly turned on the brake and off on the plain we saw a fine buck, a deer about as large as a cow. Mr. Freemantle fired at it and hit it squarely in the chest. That meant that for the next two weeks the missionaries at Kijabe would have plenty of meat for I was to get half of it. Mr. Freemantle also gave me the head so I have a fine pair of horns hanging in my room. We then got on the car and shoved off again, when to our surprise we saw a large herd of gazelle a very pretty animal about as large as a calf. Mr. Freemantle fired into the herd and shot one through the hind leg. Imagine the excitement running over the plains to catch the animal. We chased it about a half hour when the animal lost his strength, and we had more meat, and I another pair of fine horns. (I mean I had the horns of the animal.) We saw a large herd of zebra, two ostriches, and large numbers of deer before we reached the lake, but shot nothing more except a large turkey bustard. Lake Naivasha is very beautiful, and full of ducks and geese of which we shot quite a number but saw no hippo. We got back Wednesday night and my first hunt in Africa was over, but such a time. Do you know what. Instead of the terrors I so much dreaded, this is a sort of a perpetual picnic. It is so very delightful here, but you can read about this in my letter in “Hearing and Doing”.

        I was just thinking that perhaps in my last letter I scared you just a little bit, in telling you about my work among the Masai, perhaps giving you the idea that I did not think it well for you to come out here at all. If you got that idea I shall be glad to correct it. I said perhaps the Lord caused me to ask you to follow simply to get you here. I did not think for the moment that it might be possible to get a wrong idea from the statement. I simply mentioned it as a possibility but I am as confident now and always have been, as confident as can be, that the Lord will some day bring us together to be partners for life. I would never have dared to put the question to you, had I not had the assurance that it should be so, so whether I go among the Masai or whatever I may do or whatever you may think about it, always think of me having the assurance that some day it will happen. It does not worry me to know that you are hesitating. In fact you have said that sometimes you are confident that you shall come, and then again you doubt it. Do you suppose I ought to believe that the doubt comes from the Lord rather than the confidence? So dont be afraid. I know that the Lord has already given you the confidence, and He certainly has the power to carry out His plans, so whether you doubt once in a while or not that is simply a side issue. Satan may tempt you to doubt again as you consider the Masai question, but I as surely believe that God has a work for both of us among the Masai as I believe that he has sent me to this field. Florence cant we just exercise a strong faith putting away these petty little things that upset us, and look forward with a steady eye believing and knowing that the Lord will do for us everything that we ask, simply for his own glory. I feel just like going on and planning as if the thing were already definitely settled because I believe that as far as you are concerned Satan is simply making a desperate effort to see if he cannot upset you and lead you away from the plans of your master. Dont let these little things trouble you, but rather praise God that they come. Pierson the great mission worker says “there is no surer evidence that a work comes from God than when little foolish things come in that tend to upset the work”. Can we suppose for a moment that the devil would sit and look on while plans are made to glorify Jesus, and not ever attempt to upset those plans. You may be surprised to hear it, but since I am here I have discovered that some of the most foolish notions come up between our missionaries which no one can explain. Almost every thing you attempt to do tends to aggravate you. This is not simply an idea of my own, but others tell me the same thing. It cannot be other wise but that the devil in his rage because he is being driven from a land where he had complete sway for centuries is trying his best to upset the work. Now if he knows that the Lord has called you to come out here, do you suppose he will simply sit and look on while you have peace and joy, and let your pathway be smooth, and then try to upset you when you get here. Rest assured if it be possible, with all the cunning and craftiness of the devil, you will never reach the mission field, but Glory to God, Jesus has power over all devils, by trusting in him we can triumph over every opposition. Get your song book and read “A mighty fortress is our God”. Learn it and sing it when ever you feel like singing. I praise God for the confidence he has given me in Him. I praise Him for the years, (which perhaps you are passing through now) when I was bewildered, doubting, fearing everything, for through them He has taught me lessons of which I can never know the value. God has sent me here. The Masai are before me. He has promised to be with me, and His work must be accomplished. So Florence lets get into the condition, where we know that in all we do, we are simply seeking the glory of God, and then let come what will, let Satan rage and rave, he cannot touch us, but we shall have perfect peace in our master.

        Now write as often as you feel like it. dont think that your letters will not interest me. Do you know, a blessed thought has come to me while reading your letters. We sometimes fear that Jesus is not pleased with us because there are so many things that trouble us. The things that please me most of all you write, are when you tell of your difficulties. I wonder if Jesus is not sometimes grieved because we dont tell him of our troubles, and does it not please him when with an honest heart we tell him all. Does not true love desire this. Can we love more than Jesus loves sinners. Oh the blessed thought to know that the big heart of Jesus is filled with emotion when a poor humble sinner confesses his faults. Florence who ought to be happier than we knowing our Savior to be such an one. Think of it the God of these people are to them no better than our Devil. Lets plead with the Savior to make us a power in making known his love to those in darkness, but I must close for it is nearly dinner time. Believe me as your ever true friend, whose voice shall go up in prayer daily, that the Master may lead and guide you in his own perfect ways. Keep on praying for me.

        Yours for His Glory,

        John W. S.

        Address Kijabe B.E.A. via Mombasa

        care of Station Master.