San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-10-11

n ECENTLY two missionaries, DR.. Ar
R thur l.. Piper and his wife, arrived in
New York. For II years they have
been stationed in the village of Kapanga,
in the Belgian Congo, which is as far away
from civilization as it is possible to get.
It is 200 miles from the coast of the
African Congo, right in the heart of the
jungle. 1t is the hinterland of civilization,
literally the very rim of the world.
With them were their two children,
Ruth, aged 10, and Margaret, aged 5.
Both these little girls were born in the
jungle, and this is the first time they have
ever left it. In all their lives they had
seen only six white people-their father
and mother, two other missionaries, and
each other. The jungle has been their
universe. All they know about life is
what they experienced among the primi-
tive savages of the Congo.
Their arrival in New York was an adj
venture such as H. c. Wells might have
imagined, in one of his tales in which the
reader is swept forward eight or ten cen
turtles into the future. 1t is as though
they had been living all their lives in the
world as il was in primeval times, long
before man even began to keep track of
time; and then were suddenly spirited
into the future and set down right in the
middle of the 10th century. 1t is as
though New York child were, by some
magic transported ahead through time
and dropped in the middle of some
strange, vast city such as there will be
thousand years or so from now.
One of the things that filled little Ruth
with Amusement was the number of white
people there are in the world. She had
naturally supposed that practically all
human beings were black, and that white
skins were very rare indeed. Her first
sight of a movie frightened her. She
thought she was seeing ghosts The tower
ing buildings, motor cars, elevated rail
ways, all seemed TO her like a part Of
some fairy tale.
But to understand what an Alce-in-
Wonderland adventure these two children
had, one should realize what they left
behind-the fantastic dramas of the
jungle, which so far have made up their
experience in life.
There is, for instance, the story Of the
dead baby, the old lady and the crocodile,
which happened in the jungle near
Kapanga.
The first born son of a village chief had
died. From all sides came the relatives
to mourn the child. The women trooped
in with their abdomens painted contrast
10 their black skins, in cleaning white
wash. Parrots feathers adorned the witch
doctors heads. the skins of snakes were
boiled into devils broth for charms and
magic pOtions. A the relatives assembled
for the hysterical dance Of death Black,
skinny legs flashed in the dance, while the
official "wailing" began. The old witch
doctor, in the meantime, sat apart. work
ing himself into the frenzy of diyination
As the dance progressed, the natives threw
off what clothes they wore, even to the
last G string.
Towards morning came utter WEAKNESS
and utter drunkenness. The palm wine had
set black eyes rolling in yellowed pupils
The very atmosphere was charged with
foreboding A great prophecy was soon
to be spoken. At length the chief arose
from where he had been brooding, among
his so wives and advanced to the witch
doctor.
"Tell me-" demanded the chief. tell
me, who killed--who bewitched my boy
till he died?"
Il should be explained that in Africa
OF the jungles the natives consider no
death natural except the death of a child
at birth, or the death Of person from
extreme old age. All other deaths are
wrought by the evil eye Of witchery So,
with his hysterical question, the chief
approached the witch doctor. Now, in