<h2>V</h2>
<h3>OUR DELIVERANCE FROM<br/> THE BOXERS (1900)</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"God is unto us a God of deliverances"
(Psa. 68:20, R. V.).</p>
<p>"Who delivered us out of so great a death,
and will deliver: on whom we have set our
hope that he will also still deliver" (2 Cor.
1:10, R. V.).</p>
</div>
<div class='cap'>MANY times we were asked in the homeland
to tell the story of our escape during
the Boxer uprising, and often the question
was put, "If it was really God's power
that saved you and others on that journey,
then why did he not save those of his children
who were so cruelly done to death?"</div>
<p>For a time this question troubled me.
Why indeed? One day when seeking for
light on the matter I was directed to the
twelfth chapter of Acts. There I found the
only answer that can be given. We are told
in the second verse that James was put to
death by the sword; then the rest of the chapter
is given to the detailed record of Peter's
wonderful deliverance in answer to prayer
(vs. 5, 12). In that day when all things
shall be revealed I am convinced we shall<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</SPAN></span>
see that <i>prayer</i> had much to do in the working
out of our deliverance. When the first
cable was received in Canada informing the
home church of our party starting on that
perilous journey, we are told a great wave
of prayer went up for us from Christians of
all denominations. The Presbyterian Assembly
of Canada was meeting at the time,
and one session was given up entirely to
prayer on behalf of the missionaries in China.
Never had that body witnessed such a season
of intense, united intercession.</p>
<p>Later when giving the story of our escape
in the homeland, repeatedly we have had
people come to us telling how, during the
weeks which elapsed between the first cable
informing the home church of our danger,
and the second cable, which told of our safe
arrival at the coast, they had never ceased to
cry to God to save us. Then, too, after
all is said, we must believe God was glorified
and God's purposes were fulfilled in the death
of some as in the saved lives of others. The
blood of the martyrs is still the seed of the
Church.</p>
<p>It was in the month of June, 1895, that an
incident occurred which has ever been linked
in my mind with the events of 1900. I was
about to leave Toronto with my four children
to join my husband in China, when a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</SPAN></span>
cable was received telling of the cruel massacre
of Mr. and Mrs. Stewart and others.
Deep and widespread sympathy was expressed
and much anxiety felt for missionaries
generally in China. Many urged me
to delay our return; but I felt it best to keep
to our original plans, and a few days later
found us bidding farewell to friends at the
Union Station, Toronto.</p>
<p>Just as the train was leaving a lady stepped
forward quickly to the window and said,
"You do not know me, but I have prayed
the Lord to give me a promise for you; it is
this, take it as from Him," and handed me a
slip of paper. I opened the paper and
read, "No weapon that is formed against
thee shall prosper" (Isa. 54:17). Then and
there I raised my heart to God in prayer that
he would fulfil this promise to me and those
dear to me; and as I prayed there came the
clear assurance that the Lord heard.</p>
<p>Never can we forget that winter of 1899-1900.
The clouds had begun to gather, and
the mutterings of the coming storm were
heard on all sides of us. Repeatedly we were
as a mission in gravest danger, and at such
times were literally "shut up to God." The
temper of the people was such that any little
thing angering them would have been as a
spark to gunpowder.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>From the time of the government crisis
of the autumn of 1899, we, in company with
all other foreigners in China, realized that
conditions were becoming serious, yet never
did we expect or prepare for such a cataclysm
as took place when the storm clouds
suddenly burst in the early summer of 1900.</p>
<p>The first indication we had of coming
danger was when our mail carriers running
to and from Tientsin were stopped and our
mails returned. Thus, cut off from the outside
world, we had to depend solely upon the
wild rumors afloat among the Chinese for
information. The country around us became
daily more disturbed; day by day we could
hear the beating of drums and the cries of
the people for rain. The darkness and
horror of those days, in the midst of which
sickness and death entered our home, can
never be forgotten. On the nineteenth of
June our eldest daughter, Florence, after a
week of intense suffering, was released from
pain. It was while her life was still hanging
in the balance that we received the first
communication from the American Consul
in Chefoo urging us to flee. This message
was quickly followed by another still more
urgent.</p>
<p>The question was, where could we flee?
Our usual route was by river boat two weeks<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</SPAN></span>
to Tientsin, but this way was blocked, the
whole region being infested with Boxers,
and Tientsin even then in a state of siege.
The only possible route left open to us was
southward by cart,—fourteen days to Fan-cheng,—then
ten or more days by houseboat
to Hankow. We faced such a journey at
that time of the year with fear and trembling
because of the children, the danger
from heat and sun being very great. Gladly
would we have stayed, but the Chinese Christians
urged us to go, saying they could escape
more easily were we not there.</p>
<p>We had with us our four remaining children:
Paul, nine; Helen, six; Ruth, under
three; and baby Wallace, eight months.
Their faithful Chinese nurse, though weeping
bitterly at parting from her old mother
of almost eighty, decided to come with us.
There were altogether in the party five men,
six women, and five children, besides the
servants and carters.</p>
<p>Many were the difficulties in the way of
getting carts and other necessary things for
the journey, but one by one all things needed
were provided as we besought the Lord to
open the way. There were many indications
on that journey that God's purpose was to
save us; one of the most striking of these
happened just as we were about to leave.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The day previous to our departure a message
passed through the city of Chang Te
Ho, the messenger riding at breakneck speed.
This messenger, we learned later, was en-route
for the Provincial Capital with the
sealed message from the Empress Dowager
commanding the death of all foreigners. We
had planned first to take the direct route
south, which would, as far as we can now
see, have led us to our death, for this route
would have taken us through the capital.
Almost at the last moment, and quite unaware
of the danger on the direct route,
we were led to change our plans and take a
route farther west, though it made a considerably
longer journey.</p>
<p>We left Chang Te, June 28, 1900, at daybreak.
At Wei Hwei Fu, the first large city
to which we came, an attempt was made to
break into our inn, but as we prayed the mob
dispersed and we were left in peace. On
July first we reached the north bank of the
Yellow River, and there for a short time (it
was Sunday afternoon) we rested under the
trees. Little did we dream that even then
many, very many, of our fellow-missionaries
and personal friends were being done to
death by the merciless Boxers. At sunset
the ferry which carried us across the river
reached the south bank, and here we found<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</SPAN></span>
several missionaries and a party of engineers
waiting for us. These latter were fully
armed and had a fair escort. After some
difficulty it was decided that we should all
keep together, but in reality this party kept
by themselves, except that we stayed in the
same towns at night. Each day that passed
seemed harder than the last, the heat was
intense, and the ten or twelve hours of bumping
over rough roads in springless carts
made even a bed spread on the ground a
welcome resting-place.</p>
<p>Once, when Mr. Goforth had jumped off
our cart to get fresh water for our head
cloths, a crowd gathered round him and became
very threatening, raising the cry, "Kill,
kill." All the other carts were ahead, and
the carter would not wait for Mr. Goforth,
as he was afraid. During the few moments
that elapsed before my husband was allowed
to join us even the carter turned pale with
suspense,—and oh, how I prayed!</p>
<p>Except for a few similar passing dangers,
nothing special occurred until the evening
of July seventh, when we reached the small
town of Hsintien. We had heard during the
day that the whole country ahead of us was
in a state of ferment against the Roman
Catholics. Scarcely had we reached the inn
when the engineers and the missionaries with<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</SPAN></span>
them who had become increasingly alarmed
at the condition of the country, informed us
that they were going on to the large city of
Nan Yang Fu that night, but would leave
us two soldiers and two of their carts. Mr.
Goforth did not wish them to go, for he felt
it would greatly increase our danger.</p>
<p>Shortly after they left us the mob began
to gather outside our inn. The gate was
barricaded with carts. For hours stones
were thrown against the gate and demand
was made for our money. A messenger was
at once sent after the engineers' party, asking
them to return. All that night was
spent in sleepless suspense.</p>
<p>Early in the morning the messenger returned
with the reply that they had failed to
get help from the Nan Yang Fu official and
were obliged to push on. As soon as the
carters heard we were thus left helpless a
panic seized them, and it was with great difficulty
they could be persuaded to harness their
animals. All this time the crowd had been
becoming more dense, as we could see
through the cracks of the gate, and were
ominously quiet. Hints had been given us
of coming danger, but that was all; none
spoke of what all felt,—that we were probably
going to our death.</p>
<p>Suddenly, without the slightest warning,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</SPAN></span>
I was seized with an overwhelming fear of
what might be awaiting us. It was not the
fear of <i>after</i> death, but of probable torture,
that took such awful hold of me. I thought,
"Can this be the Christian courage I have
looked for?" I went by myself and prayed
for victory, but no help came. Just then
some one called us to a room for prayer before
getting into our carts. Scarcely able to
walk for trembling, and utterly ashamed
that others should see my state of panic,—for
such it undoubtedly was,—I managed
to reach a bench beside which my husband
stood. He drew from his pocket a little
book, "Clarke's Scripture Promises," and
read the verses his eye first fell upon. They
were the following:</p>
<p>"The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath
are the everlasting arms: and he shall
thrust out the enemy from before thee; and
shall say, Destroy them."</p>
<p>"The God of Jacob is our refuge."</p>
<p>"Thou art my help and my deliverer;
make no tarrying, O my God."</p>
<p>"I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help
thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right
hand of my righteousness. . . . The Lord thy
God will hold thy right hand, saying unto
thee, Fear not; I will help thee."</p>
<p>"If God be for us, who can be against us?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"We may boldly say, The Lord is my
helper, and I will not fear what man shall do
unto me."</p>
<p>The effect of these words at such a time
was remarkable. All realized that God was
speaking to us. Never was there a message
more directly given to mortal man from his
God than that message to us. From almost
the first verse my whole soul seemed flooded
with a great peace; all trace of panic vanished;
and I felt God's presence was with us.
Indeed, his presence was so real it could
scarcely have been more so had we seen a
visible form.</p>
<p>After prayer we all got on our carts, and
one by one passed out into the densely crowded
street. As we approached the city gate
we could see that the road was black with
crowds awaiting us. I had just remarked to
my husband on how well we were getting
through the crowds, when our carts passed
through the gates. My husband turned pale
as he pointed to a group of several hundred
men, fully armed, awaiting us. They waited
till all the carts had passed through the gate,
then hurled down upon us a shower of stones,
at the same time rushing forward and maiming
or killing some of the animals. Mr.
Goforth jumped down from our cart and
cried to them, "Take everything, but don't<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</SPAN></span>
kill." His only answer was a blow. The
confusion that followed was so great it would
be impossible to describe the escape of each
one in detail. Each one later had his or her
own testimony of that mighty and merciful
deliverance. But I must give the details of
Mr. Goforth's experience.</p>
<p>One man struck him a blow on the neck
with a great sword wielded with two hands.
"Somehow" the blunt edge of the sword
struck his neck; the blow left a wide mark
almost around his neck, but did no further
harm. Had the sharp edge struck his neck
he would certainly have been beheaded!</p>
<p>His thick helmet was cut almost to pieces,
one blow cutting through the leather lining
<i>just over the temple</i>, but without even
scratching the skin!</p>
<p>Again he was felled to the ground, with a
fearful sword cut, which entered the bone of
the skull behind and almost cleft it in two.
As he fell he seemed to hear distinctly a
voice saying, "Fear not, they are praying
for you." Rising from this blow, he was
again struck down by a club. As he was
falling almost unconscious to the ground he
saw a horse coming at full speed toward
him; when he became conscious again he
found the horse had tripped and fallen (on
level ground) so near that its tail almost<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</SPAN></span>
touched him. The animal, kicking furiously,
had served as a barrier between him and his
assailants. While dazed and not knowing
what to do a man came up as if to strike, but
whispered, "Leave the carts." By that time
the onlookers began to rush forward to get
the loot, but the attacking party felt the
things were theirs, so desisted in their attack
upon us in order to secure their booty.</p>
<p>A word as to myself and the children.
Several fierce men with swords jumped on
my cart. One struck at the baby, but I
parried the blow with a pillow, and the little
fellow only received a slight scratch on the
forehead. Then they dropped their swords
and began tearing at our goods at the back
of the cart. Heavy boxes were dragged over
us, and everything was taken. Just then a
dreadful looking man tried to reach us from
the back of the cart with his sword, missing
by an inch. I thought he would come to the
front and continue his attack, but he did not.
I had seen Mr. Goforth sink to the ground
covered with blood twice, and had given him
up for dead. Just then Paul, who had been
in the last cart, jumped in, wild with delight
at what he seemed to think was great fun,
for he had run through the thick of the fight,
dodging sword thrusts from all sides, and
had succeeded in reaching me without a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</SPAN></span>
scratch. A moment later my husband came
to the edge of the cart scarcely able to stand,
saying, "Get down quickly; we must not
delay in getting away." As I was getting
down one man snatched away my hat, another
my shoes; but we were allowed to go.</p>
<p>Ruth was nowhere to be seen, and we
hoped she was with the missionaries who had
charge of her at the time of attack. I saw
that Mr. Goforth's strength was failing fast,
for he could scarcely walk, and as men began
to follow I urged him forward with the baby
and the other two children, and turning faced
the men, begging them to have mercy on my
children, for they had begun to stone us.
Some of us were black for days from the
blows received then. They stopped and listened,
then the leader said, "We've killed her
husband, let her go." With this they ran
back to the carts.</p>
<p>I knew Mr. Goforth could not go far. We
could see a small village not far distant, and
to this we hastened, praying as we went that
the Lord would open the hearts of the people
to receive us. Here again Paul seemed to
feel no fear, but said, "Mother, what does
this put you in mind of? It puts me in mind
of the Henty books!"</p>
<p>As we neared the village men came out to
drive us away, but I begged them to help us.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</SPAN></span>
By this time Mr. Goforth had sunk to the
ground. Putting the baby in an old woman's
arms, I knelt down beside my husband. The
children were crying bitterly. Mr. Goforth
looked as if he were dying. The women
standing round us were weeping now. This
was too much for the men, who came forward
saying, "We will save you." One ran
and got some stuff to put in the wounds, assuring
us it would stop the flow of blood, and
it did. This man helped me to bandage up
the wounds with bandages made from garments
taken from myself and the children.
They helped my husband, and we followed
them into a little hut, where they laid him on
a straw bed and locked us in. Hot water for
bathing our bruises, food and drink were
handed us through a small window, and we
could hear them planning how they would
save us. We told them how anxious we were
to hear of our friends and little Ruth, so they
sent a man to inquire.</p>
<p>We found that these people—the whole
village—were Mohammedans, and had taken
no part in the attack. We felt that God had
wonderfully directed our steps to that village.</p>
<p>All that day Mr. Goforth lay still, but
looked at times so very white that I feared
the worst. Never for one moment, I believe,
during that day did I cease to pray for his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</SPAN></span>
life. And when Mr. ——, one of our party,
arrived about four o'clock looking for us, Mr.
Goforth at once got up as if perfectly well,
insisting on walking to the cart. To me,
knowing how he had looked that day, it
seemed only a miracle. His only answer to
my protest was, "Only pray; the Lord will
give me strength, as long as he has work for
me to do."</p>
<p>As we were leaving, the kind friends of the
village gathered round insisting on my taking
some old clothes to put round the children,
who were almost naked, saying, "It will
be chilly at night." As we went forward to
join the others, Mr. —— told us how one by
one all had escaped. Dr. —— was the only
one beside Mr. Goforth seriously injured, the
poor fellow having had his kneecap severed
and the tendons of his right wrist badly cut,
besides many other wounds.</p>
<p>All that day our friends had been waiting
by the roadside, unable to proceed without
carts, owing to the doctor's condition. They
had joined in one petition, that God would
move the carters to come. Those who know
China and heathen carters will readily acknowledge
that it was nothing short of a miracle—the
miracle of answered prayer—that
made these heathen carters come, after all
they had already gone through. For come<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</SPAN></span>
they did, five of them, all that were needed,
now that our luggage was gone. We learned
too, that our faithful Chinese nurse, who
had charge of Ruth, had saved the child at
the risk of her own life, lying upon the child
and taking many cruel blows, till greed for
loot drew the men off.</p>
<p>We soon joined the rest of the party, and
by six o'clock that evening we reached the
large city of Nang Yang Fu. The city wall
was black with people, and as we entered the
gate the wild crowds crushed against our
carts. Sometimes the animals staggered, and
it seemed as if nothing could save the carts
from being overturned. Every moment or
two a brick or stone would be hurled against
the carts, and that cry, "Kill, kill," which can
never be forgotten when once heard, was
shouted by perhaps hundreds of voices. Yet
the Lord brought us through, and "no
weapon prospered."</p>
<p>When we reached the inn a wild mob of
over a thousand men filled the inn yard; and
as we alighted from the cart these men literally
drove us before them into one room,
which in a few moments was packed to suffocation.
For probably an hour the crowd
kept crushing us into one corner; then those
outside became impatient at not being able to
get in, and demanded that we be brought out.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</SPAN></span>
We managed to keep some of the ladies from
going out; but the rest of us—men, women,
and children—stood facing that seething
multitude until relief came in the darkness.
Why did they not kill us then? Why, indeed?
None but an Almighty God kept that
crowd back.</p>
<p>As soon as we had reached the city a servant
was sent to the official demanding protection.
It was dark when this man returned,
in a state of great agitation; his story was
that as he was waiting for an answer from
the official he overheard a conversation between
two soldiers, and gathered from what
they said that the official had sent a party of
fifty soldiers along the road that we would
have to take, with the order that every one of
us must be put to death. The official was
afraid to have us killed in the city lest he
should afterward be blamed; but by this plan
he could say brigands had done the deed. So
sure was this servant that we were all to be
massacred that he would remain with us no
longer, but returned that night to Honan
with the report that we were all killed.</p>
<p>A consultation was held, and the question
was, should we stay in the city and again demand
protection, or should we go on and
trust God to open our way? The latter course
was decided upon. But for a long time the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</SPAN></span>
carters utterly refused to go farther with
us. Again prayer opened up our way, and
by two o'clock in the morning all were ready
to start.</p>
<p>The official had sent a few foot-soldiers to
guide us to <i>the right road</i>! (to the waylaying
party). The night was very dark, and as we
were passing through the gate of the city we
noticed what seemed to be signal lights put
out and drawn in. We all felt these to be
signals to the waylaying party ahead. A
short distance from the city, probably about
one hundred yards, our carts suddenly
stopped. Some one ran up and whispered to
Mr. Goforth, "Paul and Mr. —— are missing."
Search was made for them, but
without success.</p>
<p>A veil must be drawn over those terrible
hours of suspense; my faith seemed to fail
me, and I could only cry in my agony, "If
Paul is gone, can I ever trust God again?"
Then I remembered how marvelously God
had given me back my dear husband's life,
and I just committed Paul into his hands and
waited to see what he would do.</p>
<p>When all hope was given up of finding the
missing ones, a cart was left behind with a
trusted servant, and we went on. Then we
saw God's wonderful plan for us. While we
were waiting the soldiers had fallen asleep in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</SPAN></span>
the carts, and were not aware that the carters
were taking a side road until we had gotten
miles from the city and beyond the reach of
our would-be murderers! The soldiers were
infuriated at this discovery; but after some
threatening they left us and returned to the
city. Thus again we saw that God was indeed
unto us a "God of deliverances."</p>
<p>Again and again that day we were surrounded
by mobs. Many times I held up the
poor, dirty clothes which the Mohammedans
had given us, and the story of how these had
been given quieted the people perhaps more
than anything. Once the cry was raised to
drag our children's nurse out of the cart; but
as we cried to God for her the people let us
alone, and we passed on. At another time a
man snatched the remains of Mr. Goforth's
helmet away from us, and tore it to pieces. I
had hoped to keep it as a trophy should we
ever get out safely.</p>
<p>We were at this time in a pitiable condition.
Most of the men had head or arms
bandaged; Dr. —— was unable to raise his
head. What we suffered in those carts with
nothing but the boards under us cannot be
told. Nine persons were packed in our cart,
which under ordinary circumstances would
have held four or five. At noon we reached
a large city, where the animals had to rest and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</SPAN></span>
feed. Then again we saw an evidence of the
Lord's loving kindness over us.</p>
<p>Just as we were getting down from our
carts the crowd became very threatening, and
it looked now as if our hour had indeed
come; but at this critical juncture two well-dressed
young men of official class came
through the crowd, greeting Mr. Goforth in
great surprise. They had been received by
him in our home at Chang Te Ho. A few
words of explanation were spoken, then they
turned quickly to the crowd and told them
who we were and of the work at Chang Te
Ho. The attitude of the people changed instantly,
and they made way for us, giving us
good rooms, and food was brought which
was greatly needed.</p>
<p>That noon, as one after another came up
to express their sympathy at Paul's loss, I
could say nothing—I was waiting to see
what God would do. When Mr. Goforth
told the young officials about Paul and Mr. ——,
they were greatly concerned, and
promised to send men at once to search for
them. These friends in need sent with us a
man of the district to guide and help us, and
also wrote an urgent letter to the official of
the city we were to stay in that night, asking
him to give us an escort and help us in every
way he could.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>About four o'clock that afternoon a man
came running after us with the joyful news
that Paul and Mr. —— were safe, and would
reach us that night. As I heard this news my
unbelief and faithlessness in the hour of testing
came over me with overwhelming force,
and I could only bow my head and weep. Oh,
the goodness and mercy of God! Never had
the love of God seemed so wonderful as in
that hour.</p>
<div class='poem'>
"Could we with ink the ocean fill,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Were the whole sky of parchment made,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Were every blade of grass a quill,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And every man a scribe by trade;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To write the love of God above</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Would drain that ocean dry,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nor could the scroll contain the whole</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Though stretched from sky to sky."</span><br/></div>
<p>That night we reached our destination
about nine o'clock, having traveled seventeen
hours over those roads, with but a short
break at noon. It was marvelous how Mr.
Goforth was sustained, for he was obliged to
start at once for the official's residence with
the note I have already referred to. On the
way through the street the mob about succeeded,
several times, in getting him down
under their feet; but God was with him, and
he reached the Yamen in safety, being courteously
received by the official, who promised<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</SPAN></span>
us protection, and sent him back to the inn
under escort.</p>
<p>When Paul and Mr. —— arrived that
night, they tried in vain to wake me, but
nature had to have her way. I knew nothing
till I wakened with a start at about two A.M.
Jumping up, I started to look for Paul, and
never can I forget the scene! The whole
party was lying on the bare earthen floor,
practically without bedding or mattresses.</p>
<p>A word concerning the experiences of Mr. ——
and Paul. The two had got down
from their cart and were walking behind. In
some way they missed the road in the dark,
and became separated from us. During that
day they were repeatedly in the gravest
danger.</p>
<p>On one occasion, when surrounded by a
violent mob, and one man had raised a club
above Paul's head to strike him down, Mr. ——
felt impelled by some unseen power to
shout out, "We are not Roman Catholics,
but Protestants." At this the man lowered
his club, exclaiming, "Why, these are not the
bad foreign devils, but the good foreign
devils, like those missionaries at Chow Chia
K'eo" (China Inland Mission). At this same
place the hearts of the people seemed turned
toward them in a wonderful way. One man
gave Paul one hundred <i>cash</i> (five cents) to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</SPAN></span>
buy some food; another man carried the lad
on his back for miles to give his feet a rest,
they were so sore. This same man, when he
could carry Paul no longer, ran ahead to try
and find us. When they reached the inn
where we had been so helped by the two Chinese
gentlemen, they found that these friends
had food prepared and a barrow waiting, also
a guide ready to lead them to us!</p>
<p>Less than an hour from the time I awakened
we were on the road again. The official
was true to his promise, and a large mounted
escort accompanied us. That day we were
on the road twenty hours, reaching Fan
Cheng at midnight. Here we found the engineers'
party waiting for us with boats
hired, but we were obliged to remain twenty-four
hours in the most loathsome inn we ever
had the misfortune to be in in China. It was
an unspeakable relief to get into the houseboats,
even though we only had bare boards
to lie on, and the boat people's food to eat.</p>
<p>We were ten days going down stream to
Hankow. One after the other became ill.
When still a day from Hankow, a steam tug
met us with provisions. Our children cried
at the sight of bread and milk! We were not
allowed to stop long enough at Hankow, as
we had hoped, to get clothes and other necessaries,
but were obliged to hasten on by the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</SPAN></span>
first steamer, which left the following morning.
I was obliged to borrow garments for
myself and the children from our fellow-passengers.</p>
<p>At Shanghai the streets were being paraded,
and every preparation was being made
for an attack. We learned with deep sorrow
of the death of many dear friends at the
hands of the Boxers. Ordered home by the
first steamer, without anything left to us but
the old clothes we had on at the time of the
attack, how could we get ready in such a
short time for the long home voyage? There
was no lack of money, for our Board had
cabled all we needed. The question that
faced us was how could I get clothes made
for six of us in such a short time, with Chinese
tailors too busy to help, no machine to
be had, and no ready-made clothes to be
bought except for Mr. Goforth and Paul.</p>
<p>Again I found that man's extremity was
but God's opportunity. He was true to his
promise, "God shall supply all your need."
Even as I knelt in an agony of prayer, beseeching
God's help, and asking definitely
that some one should be sent to me to help
with the sewing, two ladies were at the door
asking for me! These were perfect strangers,
but had seen our names among the recent
refugees, and God had moved them to come<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</SPAN></span>
and offer their assistance! They worked for
me night and day until we had to get on
board the steamer. Never shall I forget their
Christian fellowship and practical help at
that time.</p>
<p>But in the rush to get the older children
ready, baby Wallace's clothes were neglected.
There was nothing for it but to take materials
and make things for him on the voyage.
In this connection came a most wonderful
and precious evidence of God's power to answer
prayer. For the first few days of the
journey I worked early and late trying to
make something for the little one, who had
scarcely anything to wear; but as we were
nearing Yokohama I realized I had almost
reached the end of my strength. My needle
refused to work; try as I would I could not
even see where to put the needle.</p>
<p>Folding up my work I went down to the
stateroom, and kneeling down I spread the
work before the Lord. Too far gone to
agonize in prayer, I could only quietly, almost
mutely, just tell him how the poor child
had no clothes. Rising with a great sense of
the burden having been lifted, I put the work
away, locking it in a trunk, then went up on
deck and lay down almost insensible from exhaustion.
How long a time passed I do not
know, but it could not have been more than<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</SPAN></span>
half an hour when some one came and
touched me, saying, "We have dropped anchor
in Yokohama Bay, and a large bundle
has been thrown up on deck from the lighter
for you."</p>
<p>"For me!" I cried. "Surely not; I know
no one in Japan." Then I thought, "It is
the answer come!"</p>
<p>Going down I found a letter from Mrs.
O. E., of the China Inland Mission. She
said that her little son, the same age as baby
Wallace, had died four months before, and
the Lord had pressed her to send his complete
outfit to me for my child! Opening the
parcel, I found not only everything the child
could possibly need for a year or more, but
much else. Had some one stood beside that
dear sister and told her what I most needed,
she could not have done differently. Yes,
surely Some One did direct her loving hands,
and Some One just used her as one of his
channels; for she lived near to him, and was
an open channel.</p>
<p>Three days later my own collapse came;
but praise his great name, he was with me in
the darkness and brought me through.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</SPAN></span></p>
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