# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1933_S115
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER

115

started screeching as only macaws can, drowning
all other sounds in their scathing denunciations of
the redskins’ hereditary foe.

As if this were inswlficient, an elderly lady of
the village, who evidently did not waste much time
consulting fashion plates, completed my discomfi-
ture by raising a high-pitched howl over Odidi,
which could be heard half a mile away.

Before nightfall I had managed to overcome the
reserve and timidity of the whole village and had
succeeded in drawing their smiles, while the chil-
dren began to renew their natural happy manner.
Soon after sunset I heard, far away over the dim
expanse of water above the village, some faint, but
oft-repeated cooing cries, which were answered by
a loud chorus from the village. It was a fleet of
canoes returning home with the day’s catch, and
everybody seemed to brighten up in anticipation
of a good meal. Each canoe, constructed of a single
log of wood, hollowed out by fire, was laden almost
to the water’s edge with about a hundred big fish
as well as a few turtles, a few score turtle eggs,
several chameleons, and a big bunch of short green
sticks.

An Indian Feast.

The newcomers gave another aspect of life to
the village. ‘The canoes were rapidly unloaded, and
the fish and other edible contents, just as they were,
scales, intestines, sand and all, were soon piled up
on extemporized tables of green sticks, erected be-
tween each cabin and its neighbor. <A fire produced
by the friction of two sticks was applied beneath
these heaps, and soon the smoky frizzling mass —
some half-cooked, the rest burned, and all un-
salted — was ready for the redskins’ stomach.

Three or four of these fires were burning at
once, and intensified by the fat of the roasting fish,
the bright rays in the dense darkness that now cov-
ered the scene gave the village an intensely weird
and unearthly appearance. Meanwhile the naked red-
skins stretched themselves out full length round the
fires, the soft, clean sand being still warm with the
sun’s heat, and in quiet, musical voices they re-
counted little incidents and adventures of the day,
interrupted repeatedly by hearty bursts of laughter
or short exclamations in a shrill falsetto, while
every few words of each speaker drew a chorus of
sympathetic “umm-umms.” I took my place in
one of the largest of these circles, turning my bare
feet to the fire in orthodox fashion, and with a big,
highly painted, and strange-smelling savage on
each side of me, whose only dress consisted of wrist-

bands (to take the jar of the bowstring) and, in the
case of unmarried men, a small tassel tied below
each knee.

One of the latter was a cousin of my pilot Odidi
and had hugged me with great warmth and evident
signs of good will at our first encounter. I might
have been a twin brother. After a while the con-
versation evidently turned on the white man
present, as a score of keen dark eyes were turned
in my direction, while in the same quiet tone and
manner they discussed my person and my belong-
ings, tried to make sure that my mustache was not
stuck on, and said many things, complimentary or
otherwise, which it was impossible to more than
guess at.

As I lay there looking back into their strangely
attractive faces, with their interesting figures lit up
to fine effect against the dark background by the
flickering light of the waning fires and with the
agreeable cadences of their strange language in my
ears, I felt my heart go out to these long-forgotten
people, and a sense of the utter loneliness, hopeless-
ness, and brutality of their lives came over me.
They could never even conceive of the realities of
the love of God, of eternal life, and of the grace of
the Lord Jesus. There they sat gazing strangely
and wonderingly at me, these beautiful, noble-
looking sons of Adam, and I utterly helpless and
unable to say what I was yearning to say of the
good news of salvation; for as yet I had found no
words in their dialect for grace, pardon, or Savior
and could only vaguely repeat “Ah-ado-edanare,
Ah-ado-edanare” (God is good, God is good). But,
alas, “Ah-ado” also means “moon”! It is true I had
not gone there to preach, but to explore and report,
with a view of some future attempt to preach Christ
unto them; but it was none the less grievous to
think that I possessed the secret of eternal life and
the remedy for all their sorrows and aspirations,
locked up in my own breast, and was as incapable
of expression as a Romish image could be.

The fish supper ended and the turtles disposed
of, an Indian next to me began to address me in
a very soft, but impressive way and not without
some oratorical effect in voice and gesture. He
spoke with'a certain dignity and weight and might
have been expounding some profound philosophical
views or discussing the latest theory of the universe.
I endeavored to appear interested and was pretty
free with my “umms” at every pause. This went
on for some time, and I began to feel uncom-
fortable, and when at last he made a long pause