“What were their objections?” Jeanine asked, and an impish light came into her eyes. “Was it because I was once a cigar-smoking, champagne-drinking, freewheeling modern woman?”
Suddenly Reverend Crawford could not help but smile. He liked this young woman’s indomitable spirit. “I’m afraid it’s something like that. It takes time to convince people, Miss Quintana.”
“Time is what I don’t have. Neither of us. Annie’s been waiting for years to serve God in Africa. I know I’m young in the faith, but I strongly believe God’s called me.”
“I am not at all doubtful of that, and I think you have strength and courage and, above all—initiative. If the decision were mine alone to make, it would be very simple, but we have our rules, you understand.”
Jeanine liked Reverend Crawford. He had a gentle spirit, and she saw the honesty in his mild blue eyes. “Well,” she said as she rose, “I thank you for your time, Reverend.”
“I wish it could have been different.” Crawford rose and walked around his desk. “What will you do now?” he said.
“We’ll do what I said we should have done at first,” Jeanine said firmly. She glanced at Annie and smiled. “We’ve been to every mission board in New York City, I think, because Annie said we should be under someone’s authority. I agreed to this. But now, since no one wants to sponsor us, I have a committee that will sponsor us.”
Annie stared at Jeanine with astonishment. “You never told me about this! Who is this committee?”
Jeanine laughed heartily. “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost! Not a bad committee, I would say.”
Crawford laughed and put out his hand. “Not a bad committee at all. I will pray for you, Miss Quintana—and you, Miss Rogers. You both have wonderful spirits. You’re going to shake Africa up, I’m afraid.”
“You mean I’m going to shake Africa up,” Jeanine said gaily. “Come along, Annie. We’ll start our own mission. We’ll be our own director and board, and we’ll see what great things God will do.”
Reverend Josiah Crawford went back to his desk depressed by the incident. “I don’t understand the board,” he said, speaking aloud to the painting of David Livingston that ornamented the wall. “Here are two volunteers with money, both obviously sincere and well-meaning. Miss Quintana is a little bit forward. She’ll get her nose skinned, but she’ll make it. She’s got that kind of drive it takes to make it as a missionary. Well, God help them!”
****
Jeanine Quintana knew but one way to get things done—and that was full speed ahead. She started the day after Josiah Crawford had rejected them, as she put it, and Annie thought she was caught up in the wake of some sort of tropical storm. Jeanine had her out early, and the two began making visits to all of the stores in New York that sold any goods that might be useful.
They barged into Lord & Taylor, on Broadway, and then, after sweeping through the store with Jeanine ordering everything that wasn’t tied down, they moved across to Macy’s. In 1902 Macy’s had moved twenty blocks north from Sixth Avenue to Harold Square. It was the first store to be called a department store, and Jeanine took advantage of every salesman she saw. She asked to see Mr. Macy, and with Annie in tow, she informed him that the two of them were setting out for Africa and would appreciate a discount.
Mr. Macy stared at the beautiful young woman who totally outshone Annie. Jeanine had not changed except to become somewhat more modest. The moss green dress she wore was expensive and so was the jewelry. She had on a pair of emerald earrings that glistened in the sun. Her hair was done up with ringlets falling down in back and at the sides, and she wore a matching light green hat with a large dark green bow.
“Well, I must admit you’re a funny sort of missionary, Miss Quintana,” Mr. Macy grinned. “But I’ll do my best. Everything you buy in the store will be fifty percent off.”
“Could you make it seventy-five?” Jeanine wheedled.
Macy suddenly laughed. “I’ll make it a hundred percent! Just don’t drive me into bankruptcy.”
By the end of January a mountain of supplies had been collected and piled high in several rooms in Jeanine’s house.
“What are you going to do with your house after we leave?” Annie asked as she stood there amid the mountain of goods.
“I’m going to sell it.” Jeanine was examining a .45 Colt. She had belted a black leather holster on her side and now was examining the weapon. She held it out, sighted it, and pulled the trigger. The click made Annie jump.
“You’re not supposed to do that, Jeanine.”
“It isn’t loaded.”
“Why do you want to take a gun?”
“We’ll be traveling alone. I got one for you, too. Also, I got the finest hunting rifles that money could buy.” Walking over, she pulled up a massive rifle and, holding it up, sighted along the barrel. “This one will stop an elephant.”
“We’re not going to Africa to shoot elephants, Jeanine,” Annie said, staring at the powerful rifle.
“No, but they may decide to charge us. I’ll have to give you shooting lessons.”
“Jeanine, the ship leaves next Thursday, but I’m still confused about all this.”
Jeanine put the rifle down and turned to stare at Annie. “What are you confused about? We’ve got our tickets, and I’ve already arranged to have all these goods shipped. We’re on our way, Annie. It’s what you’ve wanted for as long as I’ve known you.”
“I know, but—”
“What’s wrong with you? God’s going to take care of us.”
Annie did not know how to answer her friend. “Jeanine,” she said, “there’s such a thing as presumption. The devil tempted Jesus to throw himself off the temple and He said, ‘Thou shall not tempt the Lord thy God.’ ”
A real surprise washed across Jeanine’s face. “Why, I’m not tempting God. He’s called us to go to Africa and we’re going. Would you have us go without any preparation at all? Just get on a ship? That would be foolish, Annie.”
Annie knew that Jeanine was right, but somehow she felt that something had been left out of their preparations. Actually she felt strange that they were going without any support, and she said quietly, “I wish we had a group behind us here.”
“We’ll get a group. Don’t worry. When we come back on furlough, we’ll go around making speeches, and maybe we’ll wear our sun helmets and our revolvers. Lady missionaries back from wildest Africa.” The excitement made Jeanine’s eyes gleam, and she laughed and went over to put her arm around Annie. “Don’t worry. Just trust me.”
“I’m just a little apprehensive.”
Jeanine shook her head. “Where’s your faith, sister? We’re going to show those folks how missionaries should act!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two Witnesses
The Carrie Bell dipped down into the furrow of the gray waters of the Atlantic, then slowly rose again. She was not a passenger vessel but was designed for carrying heavy loads to different ports all over the world. Now she was heavy-laden, and as the winds turned the waters to freezing froth at times when she was struck broadside, she would wallow so much that officers and crew alike wondered if she would recover. The sea stretched out endlessly in all directions, and only a single sailor in the bow was occupied with tying down some gear. His name was Howie Satterfield, and it was only his third voyage on the Carrie Bell. He was a tall, lanky young man from Alabama who spoke with a soft southern drawl. His fair skin had been cooked by the sun, but now as the ship headed south, he looked eagerly forward, anxious for new adventures. Securing the gear, he made his way along the deck, proud of his sea legs. His parents were cotton farmers, and all Howie had ever seen of life was the backside of a mule as he worked the fields. He had waited until he was seventeen to announce he was leaving for an adventurous life at sea. And now he felt life could offer no more than to be a sailor aboard the Carrie Bell.
As the young sailor was making his way along the upper deck, Annie and Jeanine were struggl
ing awkwardly to dress in the small cabin that had been assigned to them. There were only three cabins that could be used for passengers, and it was an interesting experience for Jeanine. After the opulent stateroom she and Annie had shared on the Titanic, the small cubicle aboard the Carrie Bell seemed almost like a prison cell. It consisted of a single room, ten feet square, with a single hard bed on each side and a chest bolted to the floor at the foot of each bed. A mahogany table with a chair that did not match completed the sparse furniture of the room. The mountain of luggage and equipment Jeanine had purchased was stored deep in the hold of the ship. The two had only what they could put into two suitcases, which they kept stored under their beds.
As Annie washed her face in the chipped enamel washbasin, the cold water gave her a shock. She was wearing a heavy woolen robe she had mercifully kept out, and she shivered inside, for there was no heat, of course, inside the small cabin.
Jeanine seemed totally indifferent to the cold. She slipped out of her nightgown and began to dress, talking all the time about the church service that was going to be held that morning. She pulled on a heavy white chemise of bleached flannel and then pulled up a pair of white flannel knickers. She wore a pair of tan jodhpurs, a scarlet blouse, and a pair of calf-high polished boots.
“I think it’s going to be fun holding a service for the sailors, Annie. Don’t you?” She sat down at the table, now that Annie had left to begin dressing, and began pulling at her hair that was so thick it tended to get snarls. She tugged at it, ignoring the pain.
“I think it’s very nice of Captain Sheraton to allow us to have the service,” Annie said. “The first officer told me that he doesn’t usually do things like that.”
“Well, he didn’t want to at first,” Jeanine smiled. She continued to brush at her lustrous black hair until it glowed and then began braiding it. “I had to turn on the charm. He’s a pretty hard-nosed man, our Captain Giles Sheraton.”
Annie slipped out of the robe, shivered, and began to dress. She put on a black wool skirt cinched at the waist with a black belt and a white high collar blouse with a black ribbon tied at the neck. Quickly she put on the plaid green coat she had bought at the last minute, thinking she might need it on the trip, although she certainly would not need such a heavy garment in Africa. She cast a doubtful look toward Jeanine and thought, That’s an outlandish outfit she’s got on. I wish she wouldn’t wear it.
There had been some argument over Jeanine’s choice of dress, but Jeanine had merely laughed. “The sailors will like it. I’ll look like a woman in one of those Tarzan comic strips. I wish my sun helmet was unpacked. I’d wear that, too.” Snatching up her Bible, she said, “Come on. Let’s go.”
As the two left the small cubicle and walked down the corridor, Jeanine asked abruptly, “Do you want to speak or do you want me to?”
“Oh, I think you should do it, Jeanine.”
“Well, if you insist. Why don’t you give your testimony first, and then I’ll bring the sermon.”
“That will be fine. I don’t know what we’ll do for music, though.”
“Oh, you sing very well, Annie. We won’t have a piano, of course, but surely some of these sailors will know a few hymns. Let’s try it anyway.”
When the two reached the mid-deck, the dining area had been turned into a temporary chapel. The tables had been moved to one side, and as Annie glanced around, she saw that about twenty men had come for the service. They all stood up as the two women entered and Captain Giles Sheraton came over to greet them.
“Good morning, ladies. Or should I say reverends?”
“Not reverend, if you please, Captain.” Jeanine smiled at him fetchingly. It was ingrained in her to turn on the charm when a man was around, a habit from her former days. “I don’t like the title reverend because I don’t find it in the Scripture.”
“What shall I call you then?”
“Oh, just our names will be fine.”
“Very well, then, Miss Quintana. As you see, we have a fair congregation for you.”
“Yes, we do. All of the crew wanted to come, but someone has to run the ship,” said First Officer Charles Hodgson, a short, stocky man with a shock of black hair and piercing gray eyes. He smiled and cocked his head to one side, adding, “They’re a pretty rough crew, ladies. They could do with a bit of religion.”
“And how about you, Mr. Hodgson?” Jeanine said. “Are you saved?”
The question caught the first officer off guard. His face turned rather ruddy, and he stared at her as if she had asked something highly improper. “Why, I attend church when I can.”
“That’s not what I asked you,” Jeanine said. She was totally aware that the captain and the rest of the congregation were listening, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that there were broad grins on the faces of the crew. They like seeing the first officer called up short. “The Bible says you must be born again. So let me ask it like that. Have you been born again?”
Hodgson grew even more crimson. “No. I’m not a believer.”
“Well, I trust you will be. I’ll remember you in my prayers.”
Captain Sheraton had enjoyed the exchange between this flamboyant young woman and his first officer. He said, “I assume you’ll start on me next. So to save you the trouble, I will tell you that I am a Christian, Miss Quintana. Not as good a one as I should be, but I am a believer.”
“That’s wonderful, Captain!” Jeanine turned her eyes on him, and her smile was warming. “We’ll have to have some Bible studies together. What time would be suitable for you?”
A snicker went through the body of sailors who were listening, and the other passengers, two couples, found the exchange amusing also.
Sheraton was taken aback, but he took it in good spirits. “Why, we’ll have to arrange a time. A captain is a busy person, you know.”
“So is a missionary. I’ll want to speak to every person on this ship before we reach Mombasa.”
This announcement, Annie saw quickly, did not go down too well with the crew. She had been watching the sailors and the passengers and saw that all of them were fascinated by Jeanine Quintana. Her costume alone was enough to draw attention, and her aggressive mannerism was even more unusual. America still had many people, despite the women’s suffrage movement, who felt that women should be quiet and modest. If the truth had been told, many would have said women should be seen and not heard in public. It disturbed Annie that Jeanine was so forward, especially forcing the issue in public, and she resolved to speak to her about it later.
The service began then when Jeanine said, “We are so glad that you’ve all come. We hope you will come every time we hold a service. I am Jeanine Quintana, and this is my fellow missionary Miss Annie Rogers. Either of us will be glad to talk with any of you at any time about your souls. Now we’re going to have a song service. We don’t have a piano or an organ, but we have Miss Rogers, who has a beautiful voice, to lead us. I have kept out some hymnbooks for your use.”
Jeanine had planned for the evangelistic work on board the ship. She had told Annie before leaving, “I read the biography of George Mueller. Every time he went on a ship, he spent his time talking to people about their souls. We’re going to do the same thing. I’m going to persuade the captain to let us hold services, and we’ll even have books. I thought about having a piano, but that might be too much.”
Annie quickly passed out the books, smiling at those in the small congregation. When they were all ready, she turned to face them. She went to the front and said, “I’m really not as good a singer as Miss Quintana intimates, but I do love to sing the old songs of the church. I’m sure many of you will know them, and let me urge you to join in. You may not be the best singer in the world, but if you love the Lord, that’s all He cares about. The first one was written by Charles Wesley, ‘Oh for a Thousand Tongues.’ We’ll just sing the first verse several times, and that way those of you who don’t know it can learn the tune.”
Oh for a
thousand tongues to sing
My great redeemer’s praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of his grace.
Annie did have a fine, clear soprano voice that carried well. Jeanine could not sing as well, but she made up in enthusiasm what she lacked in skill. Captain Sheraton joined in with a rumbling bass, and obviously some of the sailors had been brought up in a church. Many stood looking down at their feet, but by the time they had sung the first verse three times, Annie said, “That’s just fine! Now one of my favorites that I’m sure you all know. This was written by a woman who was blinded when she was just a child. Her name is Fanny Crosby, and I love her hymns so well. You’ll find it on page seven of your book. Join in with me as we give honor to the Lord Jesus.”
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine
Oh what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of his spirit, washed in his blood.
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my savior all the day long.
The voices of the men rose up raggedly, but Annie was delighted to see that all of the men were trying. The visitors, one older couple and one middle-aged, shared a book and also joined in the singing.
Not wanting to stretch the service out, after fifteen minutes Annie said, “That was wonderful singing. Now if you’ll be seated, I would like to tell you how I came to know the Lord Jesus.” She began to speak quietly, and it was a moving testimony. She spoke of how she had found the Lord when she was only a girl, and then she related how God had spoken to her many times during her youth, telling her that she would be a witness for Him in Africa. She spoke of how the door had not opened for years, and added, “Sometimes God does not answer our prayers or show us His ways as quickly as we would like. But He is a loving God, and we must learn to wait on Him. It was only when Miss Quintana came into my life that all the pieces fell together. I will let her tell you her own story, but I will only say to you that the greatest thing in my life is loving God and serving Him. And I hope that each one of you will sense His love for you during this moment and during this voyage and for the rest of your life.”
The White Hunter Page 20