Thinking black; 22 years without a break in the long grass of Central ...

438 THINKING BLACK
younger brethren, the local preachers. " You think,"
says he, " that this preaching in your own suburbs is
evangelising Africa (a mere radius of a few miles) ; but
in my wanderings I come upon an Africa you know not
lost villages in the far bush, groups of towns that never
saw the map. Oh, my elephants lead me to strange
corners and among stranger folk. They lead the way
and I must follow ;
and sometimes, lying across our track
ahead, we see shafts of ruddy light shooting up, and here
we are on a long-lost village. Once in olden times it was
fabled that they had a visit from a Northern tribe, but
since then they have lived and died lost in the bush. So
what do I do ? T let my herd of elephants escape, and
stay with these scared-of-eye Africans—did not God lead
me to them ? And if God's way is our way, will not His
"
joy be our joy ?
town
He has lost his elephants owing to this intercepting
" But all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a cry to the gates of Heaven:
* Rejoice ! I have found My sheep !
And the angels echoed, around the throne,
* ! Eejoice ! For the Lord brings back His own '
Thus he tells his tale. His profession is elephants,
but his confession is Christ. And who would compare
profession with confession—what are literal elephants to
spiritual sheep? Not once but several times has he
broken in on such old-world folks— a true Mission to the
lost, far truer than many a high-sounding enterprise born