John G. Paton, missionary to the New Hebrides, volume 2 (of 3) : $b An autobiography edited by his brotherPaton, John Gibson
Religion
John G. Paton, missionary to the New Hebrides, volume 2 (of 3) : $b An autobiography edited by his brother
Paton, John Gibson
Missionaries -- Vanuatu -- Biography; Paton, John Gibson, 1824-1907
I said all that I could to quiet his fears, explained to them that this
falling in had happened by my neglect of precautions, and finally made
known that by the help of my God, even without all other help, I meant
to persevere.
Steeping my poor brains over the problem, I became an extemporized
engineer. Two trees were searched for, with branches on opposite
sides, capable of sustaining a cross tree betwixt them. I sank them
on each side firmly into the ground, passed the beam across them over
the centre of the shaft, fastened thereon a rude home-made pulley and
block, passed a rope over the wheel, and swung my largest bucket to
the end of it. Thus equipped, I began once more sinking away at the
well, but at so wide an angle that the sides might not again fall
in. Not a Native, however, would enter that hole, and I had to pick
and dig away till I was utterly exhausted. But a Teacher, in whom I
had confidence, took charge above, managing to hire them with axes,
knives, etc., to seize the end of the rope and walk along the ground
pulling it till the bucket rose to the surface, and then he himself
swung it aside, emptied it, and lowered it down again. I rang a little
bell which I had with me, when the bucket was loaded, and that was the
signal for my brave helpers to pull their rope. And thus I toiled on
from day to day, my heart almost sinking sometimes with the sinking of
the well, till we reached a depth of about thirty feet. And the phrase,
“living water,” “living water,” kept chiming through my soul like music
from God, as I dug and hammered away!
At this depth the earth and coral began to be soaked with damp. I felt
that we were nearing water. My soul had a faith that God would open a
spring for us; but side by side with this faith was a strange terror
that the water would be salt. So perplexing and mixed are even the
highest experiences of the soul; the rose-flower of a perfect faith,
set round and round with prickly thorns. One evening I said to the old
Chief,—
“I think that Jehovah God will give us water to-morrow from that hole!”
The Chief said, “No, Missi; you will never see rain coming up from the
earth on this Island. We wonder what is to be the end of this mad work
of yours. We expect daily, if you reach water, to see you drop through
into the sea, and the sharks will eat you! That will be the end of it;
death to you, and danger to us all.”
I still answered, “Come to-morrow. I hope and believe that Jehovah God
will send you the rain water up through the earth.” At the moment I
knew I was risking much, and probably incurring sorrowful consequences,
had no water been given; but I had faith that the Lord was leading me
on, and I knew that I sought His glory, not my own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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