ON THE BORDERS OF PIGMY LAND [Illustration: _Yours heartily_ _Ruth B. Fisher_] ON THE BORDERS OF PIGMY LAND BY RUTH B. FISHER (_née_ HURDITCH) NEW YORK, CHICAGO, TORONTO: FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 1905 R. W. SIMPSON AND CO., LTD., PRINTERS, RICHMOND AND LONDON. PREFACE To none of her many friends in England and Ireland does the writer of this book, whether as Miss Ruth Hurditch or Mrs. Fisher, need any introduction; but I gladly accept the opportunity offered to me of commending her graphic story of Mission life and work to a still wider circle, including the American Christian public, among whom we are assured the work will find ready circulation. No one can read it and not be impressed by the evidence with which it abounds that the same Gospel which conquered Europe, civilized or barbarous, in ages past is as potent to-day to transform the most degraded and dormant races into peoples of quick intelligence and spiritual consciousness, and has given them in a marvellously short time a measure of self-respect, a sense of the dignity of labour, and a devotion to the welfare of others, not always found in Christian lands or even Churches of ancient fame. At a time when the jaded faith of many at home is giving way before the incessant undermining of the old foundations, and when we are invited to recast the “details” of the Gospel, it is no small thing that the Bible is seen to be making new history again, and giving fresh evidences of its divine vitality. The Mission Field is paying back its debt to the Church at home. Africa, emerging from the night of ages, is bringing her treasures of grace to make up the “fulness of the Gentiles.” The pigmies themselves are worthy of a better lot than to be carried off by a traveller and be made a show for the sordid curiosity of holiday crowds. There are other reasons also why we welcome Mrs. Fisher’s journals. She has drawn with her pen pictures of the country and people as lifelike as the excellent photographs which adorn the book. She has enabled us to share her adventures without the discomforts. The tropical storms and glaring sunshine, the swamps of Semliki, and the snow peaks of Ruwenzori, the camps and caravans, the dispensary and the school, the good King and the gentle Queen, the Prime Minister and poor Blasiyo the pigmy are all as real to us as though we had seen them and known them ourselves.