The White Hunter

by Gilbert, Morris

  Annie bowed her head with no more invitation than this and began to pray. Her eyes were closed, and she was praying when she suddenly sensed someone in front of her. Opening her eyes she saw the two young men, Howie Satterfield and Larry Dillon, standing there waiting. She finished her prayer and then waited for them to speak.

  “We want to be baptized, ma’am. You said that that’s what we ought to do now that we’re saved.”

  For a moment Annie could not think of an answer, and then she said, “I’m so happy that you two have taken Jesus.” She was aware of the crew and the officers watching closely. “But I can’t baptize you.”

  “Why not, ma’am?” Larry demanded.

  “Because I’m not authorized to do so. I’m not a minister, and I’m not a representative of a church. Baptism ought to be the first step toward serving God in a church.” She had a happy thought then and said, “As soon as we get to Mombasa, it will be very simple. I have a relative there who’s a missionary, and there’s a large church. My relative, Barney Winslow, will be glad to baptize you. Will that be all right?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am!” both men said instantly.

  Annie dismissed the service and was pleased when one of the other sailors came by and said, “I’d like to talk to you if you’ve got time, Miss Annie. My name’s Jerry Simms.”

  “Of course, Jerry. What about after lunch or whenever you’re off duty?”

  “Three o’clock will be fine, ma’am.”

  After Annie made the appointment, she turned to Captain Sheraton, saying, “Thank you again for letting us use your facilities for a service.”

  “No thanks necessary, Miss Rogers.” He nodded and smiled. “Those are two fine young men. We’ve got some rough ones on board. I’d like to see them find the Lord, too.”

  “We’ll pray that they will.”

  ****

  Three days later the Carrie Bell docked at Mombasa. Both Annie and Jeanine were on deck watching eagerly as they prepared to disembark. “I’m so glad we’re finally here,” Annie said.

  “So am I. I’m tired of this ship.” There was something of displeasure in Jeanine’s eyes. She turned and said, “I can’t understand why I wasn’t able to see any converts on this trip and you did.”

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter who gets the credit,” Annie said quickly. “We’ll just thank God for those who have come to know His love. As a matter of fact, four sailors have been saved on the voyage, and even the first officer, Charles Hodgson, promised me to seek after God.”

  Annie could tell Jeanine was unhappy. She knew the older woman liked to be the center of attention, and she had seen this as a possible problem. She spoke for a while, saying, “It’s sowing the seed that counts, Jeanine. The men heard the good sermons that you preached, and they’ll carry them home. Why, there might be a dozen or more saved from the messages you gave.”

  “But I wanted to see it happen!”

  “Well, of course we always want to see the fruit of our labor, but it doesn’t work like that in farming. You go out and plant seed in the ground. You don’t stand there looking at it. It takes a long time for it to come up.”

  “It didn’t take long for you to see converts,” Jeanine said pettily.

  Annie did not know how to answer this, so she did not try. She looked down at the dock and said, “Look, they’re putting the gangplank down, and I’ll bet that’s Barney Winslow right there. I’ve seen pictures of him, though I’ve never met him. I don’t see my aunt and uncle. Come along.”

  They went down the gangplank, and sure enough, the first one to greet them was a tall man with black hair. “I’m Barney Winslow,” he said. “I would guess you’re a Winslow, too. Your aunt Ruth and uncle David send their love. They got called to a medical emergency, so they told me to tell you they will see you later. It sure has been a blessing having David Burns and your aunt Ruth join us as medical missionaries.” He took Annie’s hand and grinned. Barney Winslow was trim and fit, his face deeply tanned by the African sun. He shook hands freely with Annie, then turned to meet Jeanine Quintana. “We’re glad to have you, Miss Quintana. We can use all the witnesses we can get here in this part of the world.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, Brother Winslow. Annie’s told me so much about your life,” Jeanine said. “I’m so glad we’re here to help with the work.”

  “Well, I’ll get your luggage. You can wait in the carriage. My wife’s over there. She twisted her ankle, so she couldn’t get out to greet you.”

  Annie suddenly laughed. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Brother Winslow—”

  “Just Barney unless we’re in formal circumstances.”

  “Well, Barney, then. We’ve got a mountain of luggage and equipment and gear on board. It’ll take two or three wagons, I think, to cart it in.”

  Barney Winslow grinned. “Well, I’ve seen some prospective missionaries get off the boat without anything but the clothes on their back. But if what you say is true, I’m going to take you ladies over to meet my wife, and she’ll take you in while I see to your luggage.”

  Taking them over to the carriage, Barney introduced the two women to Katie Sullivan Winslow, an attractive woman in her late thirties. And inside the back were their two children, Patrick and Erin. Katie said, “You come along, and we’ll see that you get a place to freshen up.”

  “I’ll take care of the baggage, but I think I’ll have to hire someone to haul it, from what our new missionaries tell us. You go ahead. We’re going to have a family get-together tonight. Your uncle David and aunt Ruth and niece, Eileen, Andrew and his family, us, and you.”

  “That’ll be fine. It will be nice to meet Andrew. I’ve heard so much about him,” Annie said.

  When the carriage left, Barney went up the gangplank and asked for Captain Sheraton, whom he knew, for the Carrie Bell docked in Mombasa fairly often. The two greeted each other, and soon the process of digging the luggage out of the hold was under-way. As the work went on, Captain Sheraton said, “That Miss Rogers is a pearl, Reverend. She’s a relation of yours, I understand.”

  “Yes, she is. Fine young woman, from all I can understand.”

  “Well, she’s been a good influence on this ship. It’s been a pleasure to have her.”

  Barney sensed something missing in Captain Sheraton’s tone. “What about Miss Quintana?”

  Sheraton did not answer at once. He was a slow-speaking man at times, thinking well before he gave his opinion. “That’s a different story,” he said finally.

  “What’s wrong with her, Sheraton?”

  “Well, she thinks she’s a man. Has to run everything. Very demanding.”

  “I hate to hear that.”

  “I’m sure you’ll hate it worse. How will that sort of attitude go over with the natives?”

  “Not well at all,” Barney admitted. “But Africa has a way of taking some things out of a person.”

  “Well, she’s got nerve. I’ll say that,” Sheraton grinned. “The next time I come I want a report on how they’re doing. If they live, that is.” He hesitated and then asked, “Do they know all about the fever that’s killed half of you missionaries?”

  Barney nodded, saying, “If they don’t, they soon will. It’s a different world they’re coming to out here. They’ll be two different women after a time.”

  “You keep your eye on Jeanine Quintana. She’s apt to be a handful.”

  “I’ll do that,” Barney said. “But if she’s as strongwilled as you say, she won’t be paying much attention to me.”

  “Or anybody else, for that matter,” Sheraton added.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Guide

  Reverend Andrew Winslow swept into the office with his hair almost on end. He had a habit of running his hands through it when he was excited, and now he was obviously extremely agitated. He was a dignified-looking man of forty, three years younger than his brother, Barney. Andrew was finer looking with chiseled features. His missionary work running the station
at Mombasa and taking care of the needs of the surrounding area kept him from going to the interior, so he looked softer and much more “citified” than his older brother.

  “Barney, do you know what that crazy woman’s going to do?”

  “Crazy woman! I don’t think I know any crazy women, Andy.” Barney looked up from the Bible he was reading and put his pencil down. He had been making notes for a sermon and now tilted back in his chair and examined his brother carefully. Barney did not like office work and preferred to be out in the villages, which suited Andrew fine because he preferred life in the city.

  “I’m talking about Jeanine Quintana. You know very well who I’m talking about.”

  Barney grinned lazily. “What has she done now?” he said.

  “She’s planning to head out into the Masai country right away.”

  Barney’s grin vanished. “That’s not a good idea,” he murmured. “She’s not ready to go out to an outstation yet.”

  “Of course she isn’t!”

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “Just this morning. She came breezing in and said, ‘I’m going out to the Masai country’ just like she would say, ‘I’m going to the grocery store to buy some bananas.’ ” Andrew ran his hands through his hair, mussing it up even more, and shook his head in despair. “We can’t let her do it, Barney.”

  “There might be a problem about that.”

  “About what?”

  “About letting her do it.” Barney stood up and went over to gaze out the window at the narrow street outside of the mission building. “She’s not under our authority, you know. She’s paying all of her own expenses.”

  “But I thought we had agreed,” Andrew argued, “that she would be under our authority!”

  Barney turned around and, moving over slightly, leaned against the wall. The flies were particularly bad this year, and picking up a swatter, he caught a group on the wall and eliminated them. “Pesky flies!” he muttered. “We’ve got to get these screens repaired.”

  “Never mind the screens. What about those two women? We can’t let them go out to that country alone. They wouldn’t last a week.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Barney murmured.

  “Oh, I know you. You always think everybody ought to head out as far as they can get away from Mombasa.” It was an argument of long standing between the two. Andrew felt that it was important to maintain a strong base. It was his long-range plan to build a well-established church in the city and then slowly send out teams into the nearer stations.

  Barney was just the opposite. He wanted to go as far as he could into the interior and often did, despite Andrew’s protests. The two argued about it, but there was a genuine love between them, and now Barney knew that Andrew was partially right.

  “I suppose we’ll have to do something, but I don’t know what.”

  “If only Jeanine were like Annie,” Andrew sighed. He went over and plunked down into the bamboo chair with a red cushion and sighed heavily. “We get so many out here that aren’t really called of God.”

  “Yes, we do,” Barney said, “and there’s nothing we can do about that. Those that are called will stick it out. Those that aren’t won’t.” He grinned suddenly and said, “Remember what we used to say? ‘Some got called and sent—some just up and went.’ It’ll always be that way. Some people think it’s a romantic thing to go to Africa as a missionary.”

  “Yes, it is. I remember.” Andrew grinned slightly. “I came with my head full of notions about how romantic it was.”

  “I suppose we were all the same, but there’s no help for it. It takes a while for new missionaries to find out the truth. You remember what Livingston said about being a missionary?”

  “Don’t recall.”

  “Someone asked him when he went back to England what was the hardest part of being a missionary in Africa. They thought he would say something about the headhunters, or the cannibals, or the man-eating lions. And he sent them all into shock when he said, ‘The pesky mosquitoes.’ ” He laughed then and said, “I don’t know but what he said was right. We don’t have much cannibalism left, but we’ve sure got plenty of mosquitoes.”

  Andrew shook his head impatiently. “That doesn’t solve our problem. Barney, you’ve got to talk to Annie. She’s a sensible young woman. She’ll listen to what you say.”

  “I’ll talk to her, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

  “Well, you’ve got to do something! Jeanine Quintana is too impulsive and headstrong.”

  “Like me,” Barney grinned.

  Andrew suddenly laughed. “Yes. Like you. You talk to Annie, will you?”

  “I’ll talk to her, but she’ll do whatever Jeanine says.”

  ****

  At the same time these two were talking, Annie and Jeanine were walking the streets of Mombasa. During their brief weeks there, they had become very familiar with the city. It still held some bit of romance for them, especially the main street. It was lined with whitewashed buildings that gleamed in the sun, and the streets were crowded with donkeys, horses, mules, carriages, wagons, and a sprinkling of automobiles and trucks. As they walked down the street, they passed the meat market, and Annie wrinkled up her nose at the naked dressed carcasses that were hanging, most of them covered with flies.

  “Smells terrible, doesn’t it?” Jeanine said. “I could hardly eat anything for a week after we got here. You remember?”

  “I have trouble now with the meat when I think about how the flies crawl all over it.”

  “Well, at the station Barney and Andrew take a little better care to keep the meat fresh.”

  The two walked on, and finally Jeanine said, “Let’s go in for something cool to drink, if there is anything.”

  “All right,” Annie agreed, then followed Jeanine off the street into what would have been called a restaurant, or a bar, in the States. It was a combination of both, as all establishments were in Africa. Strong drink was always available along with food. The two sat down and ordered lemonades, which the dark-skinned proprietor brought with a toothy grin. They sipped the cool liquid that had no ice but was kept in a hole, no doubt, to at least take the heat off of it. They talked about their experience, and it was Annie who said, “I got a note from Jeb. He’s living with the Masai, you know. He wants to know when we’ll be coming.”

  “Soon, if I have my way about it. But we may have to hog-tie Andrew and Barney if we’re ever going to get on our way.”

  Annie sipped at her lemonade and frowned slightly. “I think we ought to listen to them, Jeanine. It’s not like going out into Central Park in New York, you know. There are all kinds of dangers.”

  “We knew that before we came, and we’ve been over all that a thousand times. We’ll be all right,” Jeanine insisted.

  “I think we should wait until we learn more of the language and perhaps more from the missionaries who have been here a long time. It might be better to spend a little time now than to go out and do something terrible.”

  Jeanine laughed. She was wearing jodhpurs, as usual, with a white blouse and a scarlet silk neckerchief knotted around her throat. She wore a sun helmet as well. It was her usual costume, and she tried to persuade Annie to adopt the same but without any success. Annie was wearing a simple pale blue dress that came down almost to her ankles and a pair of sensible brown walking shoes.

  The argument went on for some time until finally Jeanine grew irritated. “Annie, don’t you understand? Some of those Masai will die without Christ if we don’t go preach to them.”

  “Well, of course that’s true, but—”

  They drank two glasses of lemonade in the relative coolness of the cafe for half an hour. At the end of that time Annie knew that it was hopeless. She felt strongly that it was wrong that she and Jeanine were not accountable to anyone. In her scheme of things, Annie believed everyone should be accountable to someone. But Jeanine had no such inhibitions, and Annie knew there was no way in the world to
stop her.

  The two women left and went back to the mission station, where they had a quarrelsome meeting with Barney and Andrew. Andrew grew almost livid as he laid out his arguments against the two proceeding out alone. “Don’t you see? It’s not just a matter of your own safety, although that’s important, of course.”

  “Well, what is it, then, Reverend Winslow?” Jeanine asked impatiently. She knew well what he would say but endured a lecture on how missionaries who do not know the customs of the natives could do great damage to the cause of Christ.

  Finally he concluded, saying, “Just give it a few more months. That’s all I ask.”

  “Months! We didn’t come out here to sit in a mission station!” Jeanine exclaimed.

  Annie said timidly, “Well, maybe just one month wouldn’t hurt, Jeanine.”

  But this didn’t satisfy Jeanine. Barney sat back and listened, for he had already seen that Jeanine Quintana had her mind made up. She’s a whole lot like I was when I first got out here, he thought. Some of the group wanted to stay in the city, but I wanted to go out right away and I did. Made a lot of mistakes. Maybe Jeanine’s right. In any case, she’s going.

  Finally, after Andrew gave up and left, a disgusted look on his face, Barney said, “Jeanine, I’m going to ask you to do one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Jeanine asked suspiciously.

  “I want to get you a good guide. Probably a native who speaks English well and who knows the Masai. I’d get another missionary if we had anyone to spare, but we don’t. Will you wait for that?”

  “How long?” Jeanine demanded.

  “A week at the most.”

  Annie quickly said, “We can do that, can’t we, Jeanine? It’s only a week, and we’ll need to organize.”

  “Yes, you will. It’s going to take some doing to take all this gear with you,” Barney offered. “In the meanwhile, the missionaries here are all enjoying your company. I’m sure your aunt Ruth is enjoying having you around, too, Annie.”