Page 73 - GFA – A Different Drumbeat
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GFA – A Different Drumbeat 73
a large native inn which had been adapted slightly to the needs of the work.
Everything was on the simplest scale and yet the Spirit of God was working
mightily in that place. As the Mission does not own one inch of ground in
Chongwei, it was a very serious problem to find a spot in which to lay the
mortal remains of our brother. Just at the moment of our dire extremity, the
Lord provided in a wonderful way. The old Catholic priest came round with
messages of sympathy and condolence and during conversation asked where
we intended to bury the body. We told him of our dilemma and immediately he
came forward with an offer to allow us to lay the remains in a garden which is
the property of the Roman Catholic Mission in that little city. In this particular
garden there is a little extension in the south east comer where we laid our
brother, sleeping amidst some of the fairest flowers ihat bloom on earth and
resting in the sure and certain hope of a glorious Resurrection. We are now
hoping that negotiations with the Roman Catholic Bishop, who lives at a
considerable distance from Chongwei, will result in the transfer of that small
section of the garden to the Mission. After all that she had passed through, it
seemed the right thing for Mrs. Rist to leave for the coast and so she came
aboard our raft, leaving Mr. Contento in charge at Chongwei, with the work
under the general supervision of Mr. and Mrs. Scoville, who are stationed at
Ninghsia, four days journey away.
We left ChongWei on July 12th. and of the incidents of the joumey from there
to Paotow, I could write a very long account. Travelling day and night we
floated down through the section of the Alashan desert where the banks were
lined with the hordes of Moslem brigands who had wrought much of the
devastation in other parts of the province, referred to in former parts of this
letter. By one party we were held up for hours, at the point of the rifle, until
after prolonged negotiations we were able to persuade them to alter their first
decision, to carry me off, and to accept instead some of our belongings.
(While this was going on he actually contrived to take this photo, showing the
river in the background, the raft on the left, and the horses in the centre.)
By another party we were heavily fired on for twenty minutes, during the
greater part of which time we were grounded on a sand bank, With bullets
whistling overhead and hitting the water around us we hurriedly formed a
a large native inn which had been adapted slightly to the needs of the work.
Everything was on the simplest scale and yet the Spirit of God was working
mightily in that place. As the Mission does not own one inch of ground in
Chongwei, it was a very serious problem to find a spot in which to lay the
mortal remains of our brother. Just at the moment of our dire extremity, the
Lord provided in a wonderful way. The old Catholic priest came round with
messages of sympathy and condolence and during conversation asked where
we intended to bury the body. We told him of our dilemma and immediately he
came forward with an offer to allow us to lay the remains in a garden which is
the property of the Roman Catholic Mission in that little city. In this particular
garden there is a little extension in the south east comer where we laid our
brother, sleeping amidst some of the fairest flowers ihat bloom on earth and
resting in the sure and certain hope of a glorious Resurrection. We are now
hoping that negotiations with the Roman Catholic Bishop, who lives at a
considerable distance from Chongwei, will result in the transfer of that small
section of the garden to the Mission. After all that she had passed through, it
seemed the right thing for Mrs. Rist to leave for the coast and so she came
aboard our raft, leaving Mr. Contento in charge at Chongwei, with the work
under the general supervision of Mr. and Mrs. Scoville, who are stationed at
Ninghsia, four days journey away.
We left ChongWei on July 12th. and of the incidents of the joumey from there
to Paotow, I could write a very long account. Travelling day and night we
floated down through the section of the Alashan desert where the banks were
lined with the hordes of Moslem brigands who had wrought much of the
devastation in other parts of the province, referred to in former parts of this
letter. By one party we were held up for hours, at the point of the rifle, until
after prolonged negotiations we were able to persuade them to alter their first
decision, to carry me off, and to accept instead some of our belongings.
(While this was going on he actually contrived to take this photo, showing the
river in the background, the raft on the left, and the horses in the centre.)
By another party we were heavily fired on for twenty minutes, during the
greater part of which time we were grounded on a sand bank, With bullets
whistling overhead and hitting the water around us we hurriedly formed a
