Undaunted Hope: Life of James Gribble

By Florence N. Gribble

James S. Gribble was a "pioneer missionary" in the deepest and truest sense of that term. During his first term of missionary service in Africa he was associated with the Africa Inland Mission. This mission recognized in him the "pioneer" spirit and has paid tribute to him as one who was always anxious to attempt the most dangerous and difficult tasks in connection with the opening of new sections to the preaching of the Gospel. In his short ministry James Gribble accomplished more than many accomplish in a long life-time. Leaving out of consideration his fruitful ministry in East Africa and also the great spiritual impact of his life and work made upon the churches of his own denomination, it is not too much to say that chiefly through the faith and endurance of this "servant of the Lord" a vast region in French Equatorial Africa has been thrown open to the preaching of the Gospel. This is his monument, of which he need not be ashamed in that Day. It is fortunate indeed for the Brethren Church, and for all believers in the "ministry of reconciliation," that Dr. Florence Newberry Gribble, wife of James Gribble, has been providentially spared to write the record of his life. No one else would have known its details so intimately, and no one else could have brought to the task the requisite balance of personal understanding and spiritual interpretation. May the labor of love which she has bestowed upon this book be graciously used of God to complete the evangelization of Oubangui-Chari, and thus fulfill the vision of one who in that land prayed, ministered, suffered and died with "hope undaunted."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BMH Books
• Release date: Aug 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780884690689

Book preview

1932

Preface

All biography is imperfect; imperfect because of the humanity of the character portrayed; imperfect also on account of the writer’s fallibility. No work, however pretentious, can lay claim to perfection. This humble effort certainly cannot. To portray God’s workings in the conversion and growth of a soul, and to reveal the attributes of God, as faith grew in triumph unto victory, even in the hour of death, is the purpose of this record.

The indebtedness of the author is acknowledged to all those from whom quotations have been borrowed.

Indebtedness is also acknowledged to Dr. Louis S. Bauman, and others, for the generous loan of personal letters; to Miss Elizabeth Tyson for typing the manuscripts; to Professor Alva J. McClain who has written the Foreword, and who, as Secretary of the Foreign Missions Board of the Brethren Church, saw the manuscripts through the press; to Mrs. McClain who kindly assisted in reading the proof; and to Dr. J. Allen Miller for the preparation of the Index.

That this narrative may lead many to delight in the Lord, and encourage them to pray with undaunted faith for the multitudes who in the darkness of heathen lands still await the Light, is the prayer of the Author.

F. N. G.

The Life of James S. Gribble

CHAPTER I.

CHILDHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH

Humility is ever becoming to a child of God. Thus, James Gribble was ordained to be born under the most humble circumstances near Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, one wintry night of 1883. Like many another child who has become a useful servant of his generation, he was born in the month of February. There is still a question as to whether his birthday is the 25th or the 26th of the month. It was near midnight when the little dark-eyed adventurer made his way into the Mechanicsburg farmhouse. Had you looked at one clock, you would have said it was the 25th, and had you looked at another, you would have been equally sure it was the 26th of the month. But, since every young American must have a definite date of birth, February 25th has always been considered to have been the auspicious day.

James Gribble was a child of many prayers. His mother, in speaking of the remarkable way in which, beyond all her expectations, God had chosen her eldest son to be a foreign missionary, was accustomed to remark, James had the advantage of being the eldest. Never, as the large family increased, had she the same opportunity to spend the pre-natal months in the study of the Word of God and in prayer.

Doubtless it was largely the love and prayers showered upon him in these months of waiting for his advent, that were instrumental in so marvelously shaping his character and giving to his whole life lofty aspirations. Coillard’s words form a fitting resume of his highest hopes:

"To know Him—His own person."

To be a man who can dig deep into the Word of God.

To be a man of prayer, to know how to pray and prevail with God.

In the years of his missionary career, he was able to record in his Record of Prayers and their Answers,—"I expect Thee to hear and answer prayer. It is understood that I must be one of the ‘Ye’; one who has forsaken all for Thee; one whose affections are heavenly and not earthly; one who follows Thee."

We know little of his life for the first nine years. In 1892, when nine years of age, we find him in school at Lamb’s Gap, in a little village called Mount Zion. This village was tiny, consisting mainly of church, store and post-office. At Shaul’s School, under Miss Adeline Waters, a teacher to whom he was much devoted, we find him for about three years. Fortunate was this devotion, for in 1895 he was transferred to Peace School situated near St. John’s Church, where happily he had the same loved teacher. In 1896 he attended Givler’s school under the tutelage of Mr. William Baish.

In 1896 and 1897 he attended the Stone Church School in Hampden Township, Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. Here he distinguished himself in the line of public speaking, especially during the year of 1898. It is a matter of regret that in later years a natural timidity and growing bashfulness to some extent obscured the lustre of this early gift.

But his years of schooling were few and precious. Not long after, we find him busily at work for various farmers. At the home of Henry Kreiter, at that of David Cogle, at the Underwood Lime Kiln and later at the Wilcox Manufacturing Company we find the young lad working far beyond his strength. Yet his thirst for knowledge must in some way be satisfied. At the age of sixteen he enrolled with the Scranton School of Correspondence. For two years, while at work, he bravely carried this course of study. He was often up all night, sleeping intermittently at his desk. Whether on trolleycar or steamer, traveling to and from his work, he was always studying.

Then came a sad day in his life and that of the mother whom he loved so dearly—a day when his mother wept and he himself could scarcely restrain the tears. He was henceforth no longer to reside at home, but was to try his fortunes in what then seemed the distant city of Philadelphia. It was the old home on Walnut Level at Round Top, which he then left at the age of nineteen, there to return after some years, and from thence to leave for Africa.

Doing office work in Philadelphia, acting as street-car conductor for the Rapid Transit Company—these were some of the experiences into which the young adventurer was to enter. During this latter service occurred the remarkable conversion of which we will speak in a subsequent chapter.

Following his career in Philadelphia, an opening occurred for him in Virginia, where the Central Iron and Steel Works wished a railroad built from Norfolk into the mines. This work was partly accomplished in conjunction with Mr. Taylor, who subsequently failed, leaving James Gribble to finish the engineering part of the work alone.

During the years between 1899 and 1908, he devoted himself most assiduously to photography, for which he had a strong natural bent, and in which his painstaking habits and remarkable attention to detail made him a success.

One of the habits of his young manhood which clung to him in later years, was that of planting seeds and trees wherever he went. His earliest experiments were with black walnut, hickory nut and chestnut, in an effort, not so much to improve the species as to increase the crop, in which effort he was eminently successful. During his early youth, he experimented also with the apple, cherry, plum and other fruit trees.

His younger brother and sister love to speak even yet of his fondness in these days for pets. Pigeons and ducks were found in his collection. Of the pigeons he was especially fond. Three of them were sufficiently precious to have their names handed down in history. Joubert, Victoria and Fanny were their euphonious titles. Joubert being his dearest pet, was accustomed to light on his shoulder, there to rest and coo like a turtle-dove.

This fondness for animals and his intense love of fishing as a pastime form a pleasant relief in marked contrast to the austere and sombre manner in which the hours of his childhood and youth were largely spent. Yet in faithfulness God was shaping his life and preparing him for his career of faith and humility.

CHAPTER II

CONVERSION AND CALL TO THE MISSION FIELD

"I can but say, Oh, my God, that I give myself wholly and without reserve to Thyself. And the greatest grace I can ask of Thee is, Oh, deign to send me to some place where Thy missionaries have never yet been able to go, where those whom I love as I love Thee wander from Thee.

I present myself to Thee—today, Oh, my God. Accept the sacrifice I offer Thee and make me a workman after Thine own heart."

(Coillard)

But little has been said in the previous chapter of the character of James Gribble. Singularly free from outward vices, despising drink and tobacco, he yet had in early life a stubborn and rebellious will—a heart in which pride and ambition reigned supreme. In the days previous to his conversion he studied—not to show himself approved unto God—but rather to satisfy a rapidly growing ambition to be somebody, to do something; an ambition filled with pride in his own possibilities, with reliance on his own strength, and with longing for the development of personal powers. He was a great student of history. Military prowess aroused his admiration, and he, who later was to adopt non-resistant principles to such an extent that self-defense even would have been for him a crime, longed to enlist in his country’s service, and dreamed of dying, some day, covered with glory, at the head of troops which he had led to victory.

Outwardly, he was an exemplary young man, moral, upright, hard working, kind to his mother and sisters; singularly free from admiration of or devotion to other women, hardly realizing in his own heart that he was self-sufficient, self righteous and unregenerate.

But to him, as has been intimated, there came, while serving in the humble capacity of a street-car conductor in Philadelphia, the remarkable experience of conversion. Oft-times, and especially of late, had he heard a still, small voice speaking unto him, saying, My son, give me thy heart, and Come unto me, and be saved! But procrastination, largely because of pride and ambition, had become the rule of his life in spiritual matters. Yet he continued the habit formed in childhood of kneeling nightly by his bedside in prayer, asking God to protect him, to guide him! What wonderful and gracious condescension on the part of the Heavenly Father so marvelously to answer this prayer, even though offered as it was, with an unsurrendered will and a heart rebellious to an extent unrealized, let us hope, by the supplicant.

For different minds and different temperaments, God chooses different methods of approach to Himself. Saul of Tarsus must have his experience of shock, but of Lydia it is sweetly written, whose heart the Lord opened. And a great shock was to come to James Gribble, the proud, the ambitious, before he could become James Gribble, the humble man of faith, the selfless seeker of souls. Were we writing fiction we would frame the story differently now. But we are endeavoring to record facts, to portray that truth which, though ofttimes stranger than fiction, is often also very simple and matter of fact.

In descending from the street car which he was conducting, through circumstances over which he had no control, a woman was suddenly killed. The shock to his tender sensibilities, the feeling of responsibility, the necessity of investigation, the doubt of exoneration, the sudden realization that in the midst of life we are in death—all of these sentiments combined in his heart to work what no other experience had ever wrought. For him procrastination ceased to exist, and there and then in the midst of catastrophe, he turned to the Lord uttering again a very imperfect prayer, and yet one which the Lord condescended also to hear: Oh Lord, deliver me, and I will henceforth serve Thee.

Since his arrival in Philadelphia, not finding a congregation of the church of his mother’s choice, he had been attending the First Brethren Church, then (1904) under the pastorate of Louis S. Bauman, now pastor of the First Brethren Church of Long Beach, California, and Treasurer of the Foreign Missionary Society of the Brethren Church. He had been drawn to this church first of all by the singing which, being of a lively and joyous nature, had greatly attracted him as he passed the church at the corner of Tenth and Dauphin Streets, this being a part of his regular itinerary. The day after the experience recorded above being Sunday, he attended morning service with the intention of making public declaration of his faith. But no invitation was given. The sermon being especially for Christians, evangelistic efforts were deferred until the evening.

But James Gribble could not wait. He met the pastor at the door and fervently grasped his cordially extended hand-I have decided to be a Christian, he said; I want to accept the Lord Jesus as my Savior and to confess him publicly.

The pastor was overjoyed. We are having baptismal services tonight, he responded. Come to my study and we will talk it over. The pastor was a modern Philip and to the young man’s request, See, here is water. What doth hinder me to be baptized? he responded simply, If thou believest with all thy heart, thou mayest. That very night James Gribble was buried in the baptismal waters in the baptistry of the Tenth and Dauphin Street Church in Philadelphia.

Meanwhile the investigation concerning the street-car accident proceeded. He was exonerated from all blame. Nor did he forget his promise, Oh, Lord deliver me and I will henceforth serve Thee.

The next day after his baptism he became a candidate for the mission field. He had heard and yielded to the precious invitation: My son give me thy heart, and, Come unto me and be ye saved. Now he was ready to write his name, as he often afterward expressed it, into the Great Commission. For he interpreted, Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature to mean "Go, James Gribble, into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature."

That evening he again sought the pastor in his study. But this time he did not receive so hearty a response. To go to Africa as a missionary? Naturally the pastor opened his eyes widely as he looked at the would-be missionary, meanwhile regretfully assuring him that his denomination had no work in Africa. Yet the young applicant was not discouraged. He realized the necessity of waiting upon the Lord, and thereby found his faith strengthened.

Little do we know of the experiences of these early days of his Christian life. We find that he offered his first public prayer while on a visit to a country church at the Cross Roads. We learn, too, of the great enjoyment with which he attended the Eaglesmere Bible Conference that same year. Here he communed, not as so many have tried to do, with nature, nor with nature’s God, in spite of his great enjoyment of the beautiful scenery. But here, even in the very beginnings of Christian experience, he stood as it were on the mountain-top as he worshiped God through Christ Jesus as Lord, increasingly revealed to him through the wonderful inspirational addresses of the Conference.

He could truly say with that great French missionary whom he so admired, My longings take me into a country where no missionary has ever been—and where none has ever wished to go.

The problems in his way were tremendous. Only by faith could he ever conquer. Young, obscure, self-educated, unknown—how for him without long years of waiting would a door ever open to the last frontiers, those regions beyond, on which he had set his heart, to which he had heard so unmistakably the call of God? Truly it must have been of such a one as he that the Reverend C. A. Fox wrote:

"Never saw I faith so high,

In the Everlasting Lord,

Courage to believe Him nigh,

Courage to believe His word.

Faith on soberest reason based,

Faith that with the thinking mind

Life’s dark problems long hath faced,

Yet trusts God and human kind."

CHAPTER III.

DEPARTURE FOR THE MISSION FIELD

Because God worketh for him that waiteth for Him, He brought it to pass that through the little magazine then known as Hearing and Doing James Gribble came in touch with the Africa Inland Mission and its Director, Rev. Charles E. Hurlburt. In October, 1908, being assured that God’s time had come for his going forth to Africa, he left the little mountain home on Walnut Level at Round Top, to which he had gone to pay a farewell visit, and having only money enough to take him there, went again to Philadelphia. He had previously made application to the Philadelphia office of the Mission through the Secretary, J. D. Adams, now connected with the Philadelphia School of the Bible. At Philadelphia, after an interview with the Home Council of the Mission, he was finally accepted. His support, however, had not yet been received. On October 28th he wrote a post-card to a beloved uncle and aunt which has fortunately been preserved. On it he makes a significant statement, I am here waiting on the King of kings and Lord of lords. He closes with these words, "Yours, waiting on Him."

This time he had not long to wait, for on the following day, October 29th, he writes, I have the best of news to tell you. The way is open. The money came in today. I know not from where, but God sent it. We expect to leave for New York tomorrow at 1 P. M., and sail on Saturday. The money was evidently not more than enough to take him to England, as subsequent developments prove, yet he calmly writes of his plans beyond. Do not write to Port Said, as we shall take a train across France, the inference being that a letter would not have time to reach him by boat, if thus addressed.

Mr. Hurlburt had anticipated sailing with his small party, consisting only of James Gribble, and Dr. Florence Newberry of Chicago, on the S. S. Baltic of the Red Star Line. But those plans were changed. Meanwhile farewell meetings were held in different parts of New York and Brooklyn. Mr. Hurlburt and his party accompanied by Miss Blakefoster, a missionary from Palestine returning to England, sailed on Saturday, October 31st, 1908, on the steamship St. Paul. Although the funds on hand were sufficient only for the young man to take passage for England, he doubted not but that He who had worked for him thus far would continue to work.

The last moment of parting from friends of the Mission, and of Hepzibah house, the missionary house at which Mr. Hurlburt had been staying with his little party, had come. The St. Paul, well named, was about to set out upon its voyage to England, the gang-plank was about to be withdrawn when an elderly gentleman came rushing across to the boat, inquiring of Mr. Hurlburt, Where is that young man Gribble? Thrusting a bag of gold into his hands, he was off again in breathless haste, reaching the shore just as the gangplank was withdrawn. Again truth is stranger than fiction. Yet this incident, dramatic as it seems, had come to pass in a very sweet and natural way.

It is not the custom of the Africa Inland Mission to disclose its needs. Yet Mr. Hurlburt had in New York City a very dear friend, one whose daughter was even then preparing for the mission field and afterwards became Mr. Hurlburt’s daughter-in-law. In conversation with this dear friend the night previously, Mr. Hurlburt had said, Morse, you and I are poor in this world’s goods but we have a rich Father. Join with me in prayer that the passage money may be fully provided even now at the eleventh hour for one of our young workers about to go forth.

There was no thought in the minds of either that God could or would use this very man. Yet this man had in the bank a small sum, only two hundred and fifty dollars, and that night he could not help reflecting that he was called to be a co-worker with God in thrusting forth his messenger, not alone through his prayers, but through his gifts. But the boat was due to sail at ten, and the bank did not open until nine. Could it be done? At least he would make the effort. He had faith in English gold being of value anywhere, and indeed it was.

James Gribble, rejoicing with this additional sum in his hand, uttered the expression so characteristic of him, Praise the Lord. It was more to him than the supply of his needs. It was God’s seal upon his call and his ministry. And thus it was that he, who would eventually become the founder of the fruitful Oubangui-Chari Mission, was thrust forth by the mighty hand of God, forth from his native land, forth to a place of intense need, forth to his Master’s service in the field of his Master’s choice.

One letter only remains to us of the many that he wrote upon that memorable voyage. In it he records in his simple, undramatic style the giving of the two hundred and fifty dollars in English gold, and the various events of this, his first voyage.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FIRST VOYAGE

To James Gribble, his first voyage was naturally of intense interest. The St. Paul, long and narrow, was one of the swiftest boats of its period, and made the voyage from New York to Plymouth in exactly one week. Being narrow, the rolling was pronounced and many of the passengers were seasick, especially during the severe storm of the second day of the voyage, November 1st, 1908. But he was naturally a good sailor and seldom did he experience, either on this voyage or subsequent ones, the slightest qualms of seasickness. Mr. Hurlburt too was an excellent sailor, and so was Miss Blakefoster, who had made many previous voyages to and from Palestine.

But there was one member of the party to whom his sympathies went out in an extraordinary degree. On October 29th, when in New York City, he had first met her as he was alighting from a taxi in company with Mr. Hurlburt. She was just going down town by street-car, and there on the curb Mr. Hurlburt had introduced them. Then and there in his heart God had worked a mighty miracle. For he who had never loved, he who in his secret thoughts cherished no hopes of home or marriage, he who had thought that as a pioneer missionary he could accomplish far more for the Lord without the handicap of a wife and children, now fell desperately, hopelessly in love.

Hopelessly, we say, for in his timid and retiring nature, he reproached himself with the abject folly of entertaining the thoughts and desires which at once took possession of him. He loved, but he suffered. For it was evident to him that no like experience had come to the object of his affections, and so headlong and impetuous had been his fall that the calm, cool, indifferent manner in which his devotion was received was tremendously disconcerting.

So overwhelming was this experience that it had to be settled somewhere! The close contact of the ocean voyage, his sympathies with her sufferings in the violent seasickness which attacked her—all these things but aggravated his own sufferings. If any man suffer, let him pray. And it was in those early days as a missionary that James Gribble brought to the Lord the greatest heart sufferings of his life. Like George Muller he early learned to deal with God, believing that "He is and that He is a rewarder" of them that diligently seek Him.

And so he realized that first of all, in pleading with God, one must say, Thy will be done. Then, resting in God’s omnipotence, one must trust Him to bring about His will, however difficult, however impossible it may seem. The more he prayed, the stronger and clearer became his assurance, and the more definitely he was henceforth enabled to Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him.

Meanwhile, his outer life presented little evidence of the great emotions pent up within. His accurate observations of the voyage were daily recorded. When the sea was so rough that deck chairs had to be tied to prevent their sliding across the boat, he extended his help and sympathies to such of the seasick passengers as were on deck. Although the ship averaged 427 miles daily, it seemed slow to him, so anxious was he to reach his chosen field. At last at 10 A. M., Saturday, November 7th, 1908, the shores of England were reached. There was much to be done and little time for sight seeing. Very speedily the little party were settled third class on the London train and were soon speeding away across beautiful, green, fertile England. Lunch was served on the train, and at 4 P. M., tea—quite an innovation for the young American who disdained such luxuries. Shortly after, there was the hurry and the bustle of the London depot, the meeting with friends of Mr. Hurlburt.

Soon they were all comfortably seated at supper in the London headquarters of the Africa Inland Mission, then Miss Parker Brown’s home. Sunday in London was a great day. The party attended various churches where Mr. Hurlburt spoke and presented Africa’s need of evangelization.

Early Monday morning their train left for Dover. The white cliffs of Dover made a great impression upon the mind of the young traveler, but he had little time to observe, for soon they were hurried on to the little boat which was to carry them across the Channel to France.

The crossing was a rough one but too short for serious seasickness, and Calais was soon reached. Here they embarked upon a train in readiness for them. All day they traveled, reaching Paris at night. The young man, skilled in American engineering, found French trains and railways a marked and interesting contrast. In France they traveled second class, changing trains at Paris and traveling all night. It was a weary night for one unused to long railway journeys under any conditions. The party sat up all night in the second class carriages for economy’s sake and, worn and weary, reached Marseilles in the gray dawn. They embarked immediately on the S. S. Natal of the Messageries line which had awaited the Boat train and for which the party of four had been the only passengers.

Almost before they realized it they were on the Mediterranean. For the first day or two its warm, placid waters seemed a marked contrast to the stormy Atlantic or even the rough waters of the English Channel. But they were soon to find that tempests can rage on the Mediterranean as well. The Natal was a small boat compared to the St. Paul and correspondingly subject to the powers of the winds and the waves. Nearly every passenger on board was reduced to the most abject condition by violent seasickness. The passengers were huddled on deck, their Chairs lashed to anything stationary which could be found. Even the ship’s crew and the captain himself were astonished at the violence of the storm, the equal of which they had never seen before. It was with difficulty that the ship itself was saved. Thus violently, it seems, did the prince of the power of the air oppose the entrance of the youthful pioneer into Africa’s dark domains.

The day following this terrible storm, which occurred in the neighborhood of Stromboli, that volcano was thrown into one of the most terrible eruptions of its history. This accounted for the unusual violence of the waves.

The Suez Canal was a point of intense interest. Every bit of mechanism was carefully inspected as the boat wended its way through the narrow passage. As they left Port Said and proceeded through the famous canal, the joy of the present was almost obscured by the anticipation for the future, for was he not soon to be upon the Red Sea where in his dreams he had so often longed to be? And soon anticipation was lost in reality as he tried to imagine the children of Israel crossing that sea as on dry land, and as he pictured the drowning of Pharaoh and his hosts. But Jebouti seemed commonplace, filthy and unromantic, and as the Natal emerged into the Gulf of Aden interest in his immediate surroundings was overcome by the longing to be at Mombasa, the port of destination. The rest of the voyage was uneventful and on November 26th the three hills which mark the vicinity of Africa’s great eastern port were sighted. Early in the morning of November 27th, Thanksgiving Day, he was on deck. The sight of the mainland thrilled him. There at last he was to live and labor for the King of kings and Lord of lords.

In those quiet morning hours he renewed his covenant with the One who is the chiefest among ten thousand and the One altogether lovely. His devotions finished, he was again at the edge of the deck. Mombasa Island was now in full view and the captain was about to enter Kilindini harbor.

Hubbub and bustle were the order of the day. One disembarks at Mombasa and takes a smaller boat to visit Freretown on the mainland, so called because of the fact that most of its original inhabitants were freed slaves. There had been a washout on the railway and the little party was delayed for twenty-four hours while repairs were being made.

It was necessary to take the long journey on the Uganda Railway, which was to consume two nights and two days, carry them from sea level to a height of 7,800 feet above, and reveal to them some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. They arrived at Kijabe on Sunday afternoon, November 29th, to find themselves met by the entire staff of Kijabe Station. As there were no conveyances in those days, the party walked leisurely through the wide, shady paths, three miles up a winding road to the Mission Station.

The entire voyage had consumed exactly twenty-nine days. Never again was he to cover an equal distance in so brief a time. Yet in his youth and inexperience he only partly realized how marvelously God’s hand had been upon him for good in this remarkable journey.

CHAPTER V.

THE FIRST YEAR ON THE MISSION FIELD

Arrived at the Mission Station, James Gribble was assigned a room in the long bamboo receiving house which had been built on the Kijabe Post a year previous for the reception of a large party of twenty-two missionaries. Many of them had long since been dispersed to their various stations, but a few, permanent workers at Kijabe Station, still occupied rooms there pending the erection of their houses.

The saw mill which was expected to arrive must be speedily erected, and James Gribble was asked to take charge of it temporarily, which commission he gladly accepted.

Kijabe Mission Station was at this time seven years old. Situated as it was, high up in the mountains bordering upon and overlooking Rift Valley, it was a place of surpassing beauty. Opposite the station on the other side of the valley, seemingly much nearer than it really was, towered lofty Longaknot, a volcano which in recent years has been proving itself not extinct, but which twenty years ago was considered absolutely harmless. (It is in reality the center of the earthquake shocks which have recently been affecting Kijabe and vicinity.)

Farther south lay the little mountain known as Skipping Hill, so named because of the frequent detours of the Uganda Railway in ascending the escarpments of the vicinity. These pronounced curves cause the little mountain to be seen sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other of the rapidly moving train.

The fertile Rift Valley is one of the famous geological formations on the continent of Africa, and indeed, of the world itself. There grazed and doubtless still graze immense herds of buffalo and zebra; there the giraffe nibbles daintily from the top of the mimosa tree; there the ostrich struggles to appear beautiful in spite of its ungainly and awkward gait; there the lion stalks and roars at night; and the leopard lures its prey.

In the immense forests which flank and surmount the valley one finds the elephant, and occasionally the rhinoceros hiding temporarily in its lair, to return later to the plain. There, too, in spite of those dangers, the English and South African settiers, even twenty years ago were attempting to make their homes. Nestled on the mountain slopes, all around about, unused to danger and oblivious of his own misery, the Mukikuyu lived in huts with but a single opening, into which one must crawl upon hands and knees. A perpetual fire burned in the center thereof, and the festoons of soot and smoke wreathed from the low ceiling.

There women are bought and sold; there children are born; there death stalks in all its horror; there children, yes, men and women too, are thrown out to die. There twenty years ago men and women were just beginning to catch glimpses of the Light which shineth brighter and brighter unto the perfect day.

It was in such surroundings as these that James Gribble was appointed to work. Yet, strange to say, he was not satisfied with circumstances. There were other missionaries, so he thought, sufficient to have cared for the work. He longed for the fields beyond, to preach the Gospel where Christ had never yet been named. Yet realizing that there, too, he must rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him, he cheerfully complied with Mr. Hurlburt’s request that he devote himself for a time to temporal work, meanwhile putting as much time as possible upon language study and the assimilation of practical mission methods.

And it was thus, several weeks after his arrival in Africa, that his first Christmas found him. It is the warmest Christmas I have ever spent, he writes, yet even here, because of the high altitude it is necessary to have a fire mornings and evenings. No mail had yet reached him and Christmas passed without a word or a gift from the homeland. Yet he speaks with high appreciation of a gift of homemade candy in a soap-box through the kindness of one of the motherly married women on the station. Although alone, he had two invitations to Christmas dinner, and, being in a quandary, wisely decided to take both horns of the dilemma, gracing one table with his presence at noon, and the other at night!

Then came his return to bachelor cooking of which he tried to make the best—thankful that he had a companion. Mr. Probst, he writes, is half an inch shorter than I, and as if to off-set this deficiency he generously adds, but knows far more about cooking than I do. We have no stove, he continues, but I intend to manufacture one out of bricks and sheet iron. Our food consists of bread, rice, milk and potatoes, both Irish and sweet. The latter when boiled in salt water with the skins on are delicious in spite of their being so stringy, having the flavor of bananas. Bananas grow thirty miles from here but are very cheap compared with prices at home.

In these early days even, he complains of headache, one of his lifelong enemies. But he tries to make light of it, saying, I have been writing too many letters at night and spending too much time on photography (his pet hobby). But I had to catch the mail, for the boats are sixteen days apart and my pictures are good ones. Then follows a dissertation on his purpose in photography and on the value of pictures.

Photography, he says, is both descriptive and authentic; adding in his quaint way, the Camera is a useful citizen. He sent his pictures forth in prayer that they might be an inspiration to all who saw them—a prayer which throughout the years has been and is still being abundantly answered.

Occasionally he indulged in the recreation of hunting. The dog-faced baboon, called in the native language nuga, abounded everywhere in the woods. Very large, the size of a full grown man, it was also very destructive to the gardens, and sometimes on account of them the natives were reduced to famine. For their protection, therefore, a hunt was occasionally organized by the missionaries. One of them with a gun and one hundred and fifty natives with spears. When traveling in packs the baboons are fearless and have been known to attack and even kill natives. He humorously describes himself as being armed with an Enfield 303 calibre carbine gun and three cartridges, none of which he had a chance to shoot as one of the packs of baboons, having been fired at by Mr. McKenrick, gave the gunners a wide berth. A search for them in the jungle was also fruitless as they were thoroughly frightened and in hiding.

About the same time lions were frequent in the vicinity at night killing cows or other domestic animals. A wounded hunter was taken to the government hospital at Nairobi. He had just passed through a surprising experience. The lion, wounded by another hunter, attacked his victim while mounted, tearing the saddle girth and causing the man to fall. The lion then pounced upon the man, who in attempting to choke it had his right hand completely crushed. Nevertheless, he managed to choke the lion with his left hand until it was shot by his companions.

James Gribble was now busily occupied in building the first two story house in the Mission, one of the buildings of the Rift Valley Academy. He describes it as being 20 feet wide and 120 feet long. He was also learning the language slowly and found it still necessary to speak to the native workmen through an interpreter. The sawmill had been delayed in arriving and he looked forward anxiously to its coming. He describes his engineer’s outfit as consisting of 3 T’s, a ten foot pole, a level and two hammers. He longed for more tools and began to pray for an explorer’s transit, a typewriter and other supplies, which show the faith and the vision which in the midst of his arduous duties he had for the future.

We must now turn our attention to the people among whom James Gribble was called to work. They were the helpless prey of superstition and devilish belief, tied by Satan in chains of bondage, living constantly in fear of evil spirits with little or no knowledge of God and none of the Lord Jesus Christ. Small wonder that the heart of the young missionary was constantly burdened for them. Small wonder that his heart was burdened too for himself that he might be more Christlike, and for more missionaries. The people had no idea of love, no idea of friendship, yet he prayed that Christ might be revealed to them—and constantly he rejoiced in the promise, Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

But his heart cried out in the words of Romans 10:14, How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in whom they have not heard, and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach except they be sent? even as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that bring glad tidings of good things! For his heart was constantly going out, not only to the people near by who could hear the Word, but to the remote districts and especially to the Regions Beyond.

The abject poverty of the heathen arrested his attention. Most of their food was contained in their gardens which for the most part were worked with crude native hoes, although a very few villages had begun to purchase English hoes. Corn, beans, peas and potatoes made up their diet. Their amount of personal property was small, consisting of a few sheep, goats, or cattle—a hut, a hoe, and an axe, with a knife for every woman and a sword or spear for every man. Some of the villagers possessed a few bee-hives as well.

Their clothing was scanty. A cotton blanket, which at that time sold for one rupee (one-third of a dollar), was the man’s sole covering. The women were dressed in the skins of animals. Both men and women annointed their bodies; the men employing a mixture of sheep fat and red ochre; the women a mixture of this same red ochre with castor oil.

The huts were extremely low, built of slabs and thatched with grass. In them slept at night not only the family but the sheep and goats as well. The order of this arrangement was symmetrical, a fire in the center, then the sheep and goats, and the family around the edge. Thus the one and only room of the little hut served for the sheep fold, sleeping room, cook house, dining room, parlor and reception hall. At night this wonderful room was tightly closed, the odors therein being unimaginable. It was in such a hut that James Gribble slept one night during the early days of his experience in Africa.

Of this experience he wrote, If we would truly live Christ we must not be above the native. Like Jesus we must come down to them. There are three rules for the missionary—(1) Live Jesus, (2) Act Jesus, (3) Look unto Jesus.

One thing which interested him about the people was that they were not without knowledge, although without education. He found, for example, that they had been workers in iron for generations, smelting it from the raw ore by means of charcoal. With his habit of careful scrutiny he discovered that this iron was of the best quality, especially in the spears. He pronounced this perfect work, finding that the Masai, however, excelled even the Agikuyu.

He marveled at the intricate construction of the Gikuyu language. He could only conclude that God had Himself marvelously preserved this unwritten language that it might become a vehicle for the Gospel.

He realized that vast Africa, for whose evangelization he constantly preserved his vision even though limited in his efforts to a tiny district, would never be fully won unless the people had a mind to give and to give largely. In writing to a class of young men he said, If you have only ten dollars, ask God to enable you speedily to give a thousand! Do God’s will, he continues; just lean on Him. The cattle on a thousand hills are His. And he closes this letter by saying significantly, Ye who are Christ’s—I will see you in the morning.

More and more it was borne in upon him that the Lord alone is absolutely worthy of our utmost confidence and implicit faith. There is not a man, he says in one of his letters, in the entire universe as independent as he who fully trusts the Lord. He adds humbly, That is where I make most of my mistakes in my failure to trust Him as I ought.

Those days were for the young missionary a time of severest testing. For the human love which had been so suddenly implanted in his heart at the beginning of his missionary career had never grown cold. Day by day, as he prayed, the love he bore her seemed deepened until finally a conviction came to him that God, who was working so deeply in his own heart, must be working in hers also. What joy it would be to learn from her own lips if this were indeed true! Had he not already patiently waited on God for many months? With increased prayer he decided to put the momentous question, remembering the words of the Psalmist, Ps. 9:10—For they that know Thy name will put their trust in Thee, for Thou, Jehovah, hast not forsaken them that seek Thee.

Of course he must see her alone and that is not always an easy thing upon a mission station where there are many workers both white and black, and where every center is a beehive of activity. In the evening one was apt to be interrupted. In the daytime she was always out except during office hours. For Dr. Newberry had been plunged into a center of activity the intensity of which she had not even dreamed. The dispensary had been opened the first morning after her arrival under the shade of a friendly tree. She had established regular dispensary hours and except for them was kept busy with outside calls.

Rising early, the station calls were completed before eight o’clock. From eight until ten o’clock were dispensary hours for natives when the Doctor with her native assistant, Ndebbe, cared for numerous patients and daily medicines were dispensed from the window. Treatments were given outside. For those were the days before a hospital or even a dispensary building existed at the now well-manned and equipped medical center, Kijabe. From ten to twelve the Doctor was at home in her little office to see missionaries, settlers, whether English or South African, and railway employes, usually Indians or Goannese who came from various points upon the Uganda railway, frequently bringing their wives and families for treatment.

There was nothing else to be done but to make an appointment between ten and twelve, for immediately after lunch and the brief noonday siesta she was off on mule back to the villages attending to the sick in their huts, and with the aid of her assistant preaching the Gospel everywhere they went. Seldom did they return before the supper hour. Such an appointment was easy to make for he had been a patient on several occasions. He had really greatly suffered from various forms of infection during his period of acclimatization and he almost welcomed sickness, since it gave him nearly the only open door for the Doctor’s society.

The appointment was made. Never had such an appointment been so difficult to keep! But it must be kept. He found himself with every circumstance favorable for the first revelation of his heart’s desire, and yet with a tongue seemingly paralyzed. Where was the eloquent message he had so carefully thought out? All he could do was stammer a few awkward phrases which astonished the hearer more than words can tell. But in such a situation it is always the woman who has the advantage, whether her answer is to be Yes or No. She had a most profound respect for the young man in her presence, a deep admiration of his prayer life and his zeal for evangelization, and they had a like call to the "Regions Beyond," a like desire to trust the Lord implicitly in all His dealings.

She could not, therefore, be unkind and she realized that it would appear to be so did she not tell him her reason for refusal. And so she told him frankly that she too knew the pain of loving for she had long since given her heart’s love to one whose life was not yet devoted to the mission field. Whether or not God would send him to the mission field and to that particular field, she knew not. One thing was absolutely certain, she could never marry another. She implored the young man to accept this decision as absolutely final and never to mention the subject of marriage again.

But as to friendship—that was another thing. There was no reason why they should not be friends. Yet all this effort to be kind did not alleviate the young man’s sufferings but rather increased them. That she did not yet love him—that he could have borne with patience and fortitude. But that she loved another seemed to make chaos of his very faith and to swallow up his confidence. Miserably he made his departure, wondering what right he had now even to pray. Truly it was the hour of his soul’s temptation. For he who doubts what God Himself has bidden him believe loses his very fellowship with Him who gave him the promise of his heart’s desire.

On his knees, in his little slab house, he poured out his heart before God who comforted him and assured him of His own Omnipotence. For it is when the soul has need of God’s, omnipotence that it condescends to reflect upon it, and realizing it, renews its strength. So James Gribble came to realize in a deeper way that this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith, and to claim anew the promise, Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass.

Increasingly, as his suffering heart drew nearer to his Lord, did he long to carry the Gospel to the Regions Beyond. A new field was opening up to the Mission. Some two thousand miles toward the interior lay a vast unevangelized territory, the north-eastern part of the Congo Beige. The year before, President Roosevelt had interceded with the King of Belgium concerning the question of the Africa Inland Mission entering his domains and the privilege had been granted. Roosevelt himself visited Kijabe mission station in his tour of East Africa in 1909 and a new impetus was given to the Mission’s hope of evangelizing this district of Congo Beige.

Meanwhile in his spare moments the young man copied government maps and began to lay his petitions at the Throne of Grace that he might be privileged to go as a member of the first exploring party. His love for the natives increased. In one of his letters three photographs were enclosed upon which his comments were characteristic: One of these pictures, he says, is my slab house, which I have erected since the saw-mill began to operate. Another is a picture of the reception accorded President Roosevelt on his recent visit to our Mission Station. The third is a NATIVE HUT. PLEASE, FRAME IT AND HANG IT in a conspicuous place. IT IS GRAND! Never doubt, he says in closing, but that God WILL work for Africa’s evangelization.

While praying for the accomplishment of his vision he continued busily occupied in various duties about the station. With Mr. McKenrick he undertook the task of surveying and marking out the station boundaries. Kijabe being near the equator, the rains were irregular. The rainy seasons were uncertain and frequently during a surveying or other trip there would be a heavy downpour. Since the soil was volcanic the-water soon disappeared. Even the streams flowed but a short distance and then vanished.

But in the heavy forests these rains were often most inconvenient, the dampness being long retained in the ground, and the young surveyor in those early days had no camp bed. He makes light of these privations, saying that the natives thought him to be a gitonga, or rich man, because he had a straw mattress for a bed. His table was a suitcase, his home a tent, and that at an altitude of ten thousand feet where frost and even a thin film of ice were frequently found.

The boys who accompanied him were well supplied with blankets but even so they suffered from the cold, being accustomed, not to a tent, but to a tightly closed hut with a fire in the center. Huge fires of green bamboo were always lit without those camping places in the forest. Green bamboo burns with a succession of peculiar explosions due to the sudden expansion of steam and both men and boys enjoyed the artificial fusillade. A bush duck was seen occasionally but they were not licensed to shoot them, much to their regret.

Their huge fires were a protection against leopards by night and they kept a sharp lookout for elephants by day. The elephant of the bamboo forests of Eastern Equatorial Africa are huge animals, one tusk often weighing two hundred pounds.

Altogether the young missionary greatly enjoyed the excitement of these trips away from the station proper. Although early matured as to thought and vision he maintained a light and boyish heart to the end of his life. With such a trip as this his first year on the mission field closed.

CHAPTER VI.

SECOND YEAR ON THE MISSION FIELD

Forward

He that winneth souls is wise. And he has joy unspeakable too! And there is another joy akin, to see the Gospel proclaimed in a land where it has never before been preached. As I push on from one pioneer field to another without seeing the harvest at points which I leave—I can only say, I will not ask for a seat at the right hand or left hand of Jesus in Heaven—I will only ask to sit at the gate and see the redeemed of the Lord come in from those parts of Central Africa where I have been privileged to be a pioneer missionary."

(James Gribble, Kijabe, November, 1909)

The second year on the mission field opened up with trials nearly unbearable. He was absolutely without funds and had no human resources whatsoever. To him, for a time, it seemed that absolutely everything was wrong and he labored under a sense of discouragement and defeat. Of those trials he wrote, But I turned to the Lord and Satan left me. I really believe that Africa is his stronghold. Other missionaries say that they have been here enshrouded in great spiritual darkness. It is amazing how many missionaries fall in this dark land.

It was indeed a year of trial, not only for him but for the Mission as well. Many were short of funds and the missionaries could do little to aid one another. He lived almost exclusively on native foods. For a time his correspondence ceased for lack of postage money. The burdens on his heart were heavy for the tribes beyond. He longed for a typewriter and a duplicating machine that he might more adequately present his vision of the dying tribes to the churches at home, and yet he had not even postage.

More and more he was shut up to prayer. But he writes, Praise His name. I could scarcely tell how I have been comforted this last year by that ever true and faithful Friend. The thought has come to me that the Lord knew that those who would dare to carry out that GREAT COMMAND of His would need SPECIAL GRACE, so He said, ‘And lo, I am with you alway even unto the end of the world.’ Often in the homeland I had felt the tempter’s blows but never till I came here did I realize their full intensity. But I have found the Grace of the Lord Jesus sufficient.

His very work burdened his heart—building, running the saw-mill, lumbering. Was he doing thus his utmost for