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bined a noble modesty. No word about herself or her good deeds ever passed her lips. A pioneer in these parts, she evidently must have encountered much difficulty in the beginning. Her good influence over the Shokas is very considerable. The same can be said of Miss Browne, who was in every way a worthy comrade for Miss Sheldon. They have both, in a comparatively short space of time, become fully acquainted with the Shoka language, and can converse in it as fluently as in English, this fact alone endearing them greatly to the natives.

That these ladies, working on the northernmost border of the British empire, not far from the main chain of the Himalayas, are in an exposed and unprotected region, overrun by marauding Tibetans, is indicated in Mr. Landor's description of its condition. On page 45 of the first volume of his book he says:

These lofty "pattis ” of Darma, Bias, and Chaudas nominally form part of the British empire, our geographical boundary with Nari Khorsum, or Hundes (Great Tibet), being the main Himalayan chain forming the watershed between the two countries. In spite of this actual territorial right, I found at the time of my visit in 1897 that it was impossible not to agree with the natives in asserting that British prestige and protection in those regions were myths ; that Tibetan influence alone was dominant and prevailing, and Tibetan law enforced and feared. The natives invariably showed abject obsequiousness and servile submission to Tibetans, being at the same time compelled to display actual disrespect to British officials. They were driven to bring the greater number of civil and criminal cases before Tibetan magistrates in preference to having them tried in a British court. The Tibetans, in fact, openly claimed possession of the “pattis” bordering on Nari Khorsum; and the more emphatically to impress our natives with their influence as superior to British, they came over to hibernate on our side, and made themselres quite at home in the warmer valleys and in the larger bazaars. They brought their families with them, and drove before them thousands and thousands of sheep to graze on our pasture-lands ; they gradually destroyed our forests in Bias to supply southwestern Tibet with fuel. For this they not only paid nothing, but compelled our native subjects to convey the timber over the high mountain passes for them without remuneration. Necessarily such unprincipled taskmasters did not draw the line at extorting from our natives, under any pretense, money, food, clothes, and everything else they could possibly seize.

In a region where British subjects, living on British territory, have so little protection extended over them by the British government of India, American missionaries can hardly feel themselves very safe.* Sometimes they are obliged to pro• Nevertheless our missionaries pervade the region. In order to know the condition and character of the population, as well as to be known by them, long itinerating trips are taken. Miss Sheldon writes: “From June 9 to July 5, 1897, Miss Browne and I, with two Bible-readers, visited, so far as I know, every village in Biyas Bhot; and then, crossing a corner of Nepaul, we entered Tibet by the Tinkar Pass. We Rent about five miles in, but were allowed to remain on Tibetan soil only one night. A guard of about thirty Tibetans was sent to watch our movements and keep us

tect themselves. When our ubiquitous pioneer Dr. Harkua Wilson had erected a dispensary at Gungi, a day's march beyond Garbyang, the Tibetans came and threatened him with confiscation and worse if he did not immediately comply with their exactions. He refused, and reported the matter to the British officials at Kumaon, but, knowing that little or no protection could be expected from that quarter, he kept men on watch, and held his rifle ready.

After Mr. Landor had called to pay his respects to our mission Miss Sheldon invited him to dinner on Sunday, when the Christian converts dine with the mission workers. Of this occasion he writes :

I arrived punctually at the hour appointed, and on the veranda of the bungalow were laid some nice clean mats, upon which we all sat cross-legged in native fashion. We three were provided with knife and fork, but all the natives helped themselves with their fingers, which they used with much dexterity. There were among the converts some Hindus, some Shokas, some Humlis, and a Tibetan

All counted, I suppose there were about twenty of them, and it would be impossible to find a better bebaved set of Christians anywhere.


The principal missionary figure in Mr. Landor's account of his dangerous expedition into the Forbidden Land is Dr. Harkua Wilson, a native of India, our preacher in charge of the circuit, a medical man and hospital assistant. In him we see again, as countless times before, the missionary as the traveler's best friend-all men's best friend-sympathetic, humane, and helpful to the uttermost.

Again and again, Landor says, he “found shelter under the ever hospitable roof of Dr. Wilson " at Garbyang, where that very active missionary helps him make preparations for his journey into Tibet, advises him as to his outfit, and aids him in securing servants and carriers. Dr. Wilson works for hours at weighing, dividing, and packing in equal back-loads the necessary provisions and equipment. He accompanies the expedition up the mountains and into Tibet. At an elevation equal to the top of the Matterhorn, he spends the evening, after a a hard day's climb, in cutting out and making a warmer suit of clothes for a shivering, thinly clad servant. He wades ice-cold streams over sharp stones with bare feet frosted and bleeding. He struggles on with Landor over snow and ice up

from going farther into their country. To them we gave our message of salvation through Christ, and retraced our steps over the snowy heights.” (Miss Mary Reid, our missionary at Chandag Heights, in this same wild bill region, reports one hundred and seventy-seven villages visited in 1897, reaching thousands of listeners with the Gospel.) The loneliness of this, as of many another missionary post, is seen in a letter written by Miss Sheldon from Chaudas in November, 1897: “Miss Browne has gone in to the District Conference at Naini Tal. I am sixty miles from my nearest neighbors at Pithoragarh, whom I have not seen for nearly a year. But usually no feeling of loneliness or depression creeps over me, and there certainly is no desire to leave this work till the Master has found and folded his sheep. Pray for Bhot."

the Mangshan Pass as long as lungs and heart can bear the strain, but at the height of twenty thousand five hundred feet is overcome with pain and exhaustion and obliged to descend, while the explorer pushes on fifteen hundred feet higher, only to find the pass impracticable. Dr. Wilson quiets the mutinous discontent of Landor's followers, parleys with Tibetan officials and soldiers, who order them back to India on pain of death, frightens off brigands with a show of Winchesters and Martinis, sleeps with a loaded rifle at his side, and continually gives the explorer the benefit of his experience, knowledge of the language and the natives, prudence, foresight, and what Landor calls “his perpetual wisdom." When Landor in exasperation brings rifle to shoulder, to fire at Tibetan soldiers, Wilson calmly snatches it out of his hand, thus preventing him from doing a foolish and fatal thing. When, after the retreat from the Mangshan Pass to within sight of the dreary Lumpiya Pass, by which they had crossed into Tibet, the camp followers refused to go on, Dr. Wilson advised Landor to go back to Garbyang for fresh men and supplies ; but the explorer declared that if necessary he would proceed alone over the mountains and find his way to Lhassa, the capital of Tibet. The missionary warned and dissuaded him with tears, and when, after all, the daring and resolute traveler, with only a few attendants started again in a raging blizzard at midnight from an elevation of seventeen thousand feet to scale the backbone of the Himalayas and penetrate to the heart of the Forbidden Land, Dr. Wilson went with him some distance through the darkness, the wild storm, and the bitter cold, bade him good-bye with a choking voice, and then turned his face homeward to his work at Gungi and Garbyang, carrying back valuable effects which Landor could not take with him.

He knew no more of the adventurous explorer until many weeks later, when report reached him at Gungi that Landor and his servants had been beheaded by Tibetan officials. With all haste the missionary crossed the Tibetan frontier to Taklakot, where he learned that Landor had been seen near Mansowar Lake, held captive by the Tibetans, wasted and almost starving, covered with scabs and sores from hideous tortures inflicted by his captors. Dr. Wilson, with other influential persons, interceded with the Jong Pen (Master of the Fort) at Taklakot to secure Landor's release ; and on September 8, 1897, the faithful missionary received the unhappy explorer, famished and emaciated beyond recognition, filthy, and covered with vermin, to his own tent, where he washed, fed, and reclothed him, examined and treated his numerous and painful wounds, and nursed him with a woman's tenderness, until the suffering and shattered man was strong enough to be taken over the Lippu Pass (which is higher than the summit of Mont Blanc) to British soil and the shelter of Dr. Wilson's dispensary at Gungi. There again he was nursed until able to start for Bombay and the home of his parents in Florence, Italy.

One more service this Christian physician rendered to the hardy and daring young Englishman. He certified under oath to the horrible condition of Mr. Landor when rescued from the Tibetans, giving detailed medical description of the extent and location of his twenty-two wounds; and also corroborated Landor's account of his travels and sufferings, thus vindicating the explorer's veracity, which was assailed by certain journals because of the astounding particulars of his narrative. His deposition before Mr. J. Larkin, British magistrate at Almora, begins thus : “My name is Harkua Wilson. By caste Christian; forty-six years of age; by occupation a missionary ; my home is at Dwarahat, police station M. Dwara, district Almora. I reside at Gungi, Byans."

The second volume of Mr. Landor's extraordinary book gives us at its close another glimpse of Miss Martha A. Sheldon, M.D., when on September 28, more than four months after he, in the bloom of health, had broken bread at her table at Dharchula, she certified to his pitiable condition as it appeared on his return forty days after his tortures, writing her testimony on paper headed : M. E. Mission.

Khela P. O. Dist. Almora.

East Kumaon, Bhot. “All at it and always at it.”—WESLEY. We have gathered here from an explorer's note-book some flash-light pictures, which he caught in passing, of some of our own far-away missionaries, busy at their Master's work with all manner of helpfulness, and not dreaming of being photographed. They themselves would not claim to be exceptional persons, but be content to be used as only typical examples of the missionary breed. The amazing and startlingly realistic narrative of young Mr. Landor, made intensely vivid by its multitude of photographs, has a unique value in the unstudied, incidental, and unconscious


in which its accounts of missionaries whose posts he chanced to pass exhibit the radiancy of Christian character shining against the dull opacity of sensualized human nature around them; the quick, tender sensibilities of Christian men and women contrasted with the stolid and stony insensibility of populations inured to misery and calloused by degradation; the sweet and wholesome cleanliness of Christian living amid the disgusting and pestilential filthiness of the heathen; the beautiful dignity of modesty and mutual respect offset against lewd and shameless indecency; the clear veracity and fine fidelity of Christian missionaries and converts against the deceit and treachery of thieving natives; the blended love and pity of humane Christian ministry in contrast with pagan suspicion, malice, and truculence.

It is probable that no other field of human endeavor can show so large a proportion of lofty characters as the mission field. There the spirit of chivalry perpetuates itself in noblest forms. Emerson said, forty years ago, “Eloquence is dirt cheap on antislavery platforms," and we may say that heroism is as common as is humane benevolence all along the skirmish line of Christian missions. The logic which held early martyrs to the stake, “Christ died for me—I'll die for him,” shows just as potent now in holding the missionary to his post of sacrifice and danger. Using every precaution to secure the best human stuff for this most critical and testing work, the Church should trust its missionaries, honor them, and make them feel that behind them is the warm, unfailing, and generous support of a praying, believing, determined, and unanimous Church. That all workers are of equal worthiness is not true in the foreign field as it is not true in the home field, but there is ground for thinking that the higher average is in the mission field. From the first the work and character of missionaries are under careful, constant, and minute scrutiny, known not only to the immediate

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