The Man Who Did the Right Thing: A RomanceJohnston, Harry
General
The Man Who Did the Right Thing: A Romance
Johnston, Harry
British -- Africa, East -- Fiction; Missions -- Tanzania -- Fiction
Thereafter followed long day-rides of inspection, an occasional week’s
absence from home studying possibilities in remote parts of the
Concession, holding conferences with the Stotts, laying cases and
possibilities of special difficulty before the German officer commanding
at Kondoa. His talks with the Stotts were directed to several ends:
urging the Stotts to get into the confidence of all the native
tribes—Bantu, Hamitic, Nilotic—of the Concession’s area and find out how
far their interests might be subserved by the full exploitation of the
animal, vegetable and mineral wealth of this patch of East Africa.
"Unless we carry the natives with us," he would say, "this enterprise
must eventually fail, wither up; because, boast of the climate as we
may, the hard manual labour cannot be performed by white men: we must
fall back on the native. Now half the men-natives in these parts are
picturesque to look at, graceful figure and all that; but they shirk
hard work. They prefer to loll about in the sun or to run after women.
Can’t you put some ambition into ’em? Teach them something besides
these rotten hymns and prayers that are meaningless to them?"
"But we do," said Mrs. Stott. "You haven’t looked over our school for
two years, I believe. You seem to have got hymn-singing on the brain.
Our hymns translated by us are not rubbish and the natives enjoy singing
them...."
"I don’t doubt they do, though I don’t see what use it is. Neither they
nor the prayers prevent the Almighty from sending the flights of
locusts.... Or rather these appeals and this excessive praise do not
stimulate the Divine power to do _something_ to abate Africa’s myriad
plagues. It is always poor Man—and most of all, poor _White_ man—who
has to work his brain and body to exhaustion to set right what Nature
perversely sets wrong. Here am I, trying to abate the grasshopper
plague in our tobacco plantations by encouraging the domestication of
the Crowned crane. Yet the natives won’t take any interest in this
idea, though the Crowned cranes feed themselves and have charming
manners. Can’t you push this matter in your schools? Couldn’t you
preach a sermon on the uses of the Crowned crane?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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