The Last Resting-place

URING all the trying experiences of this last exploration, Dr. Livingstone had been cheered by the special devotion of two of the attendants, Susi and Chumah, who had been with him long and loved him well. Their tenderness to him had been like that of a mother to a dying child, and now that their master was gone, their fidelity still showed itself in the determination that every effort should be made to convey his body to Zanzibar. Surely, if anything were needed to commend the African race to our sympathy and respect, the loyalty, affection and courage now shown by all Livingstone’s followers might well have this effect. Although it involved nine months of hard and perilous travel, their resolve was carried out without faltering. The ordinary risks of such a journey were by no means small, but the superstitious horror of death everywhere prevalent now made it dangerous in the extreme. They endeavored to keep Chitambo, the chief of the village where Livingstone died, in ignorance of his death, fearing lest a ruinous fine should be inflicted upon them. The secret, however, oozed out, but fortunately the chief was reasonable in his demands.

Susi and Chumah now became the leaders of the company, and nobly did they fulfil their task. They first made a careful inventory of Dr. Livingstone’s personal effects. ‘ then deposited all his papers and scientific instruments in

88 LIFE OF DAVID LIVINGSTCNE.

water-tight boxes, so that they would not be injured in fording rivers. Though the later entries in his journal had been made only with the juice of plants upon old London newspapers, they too, were carefully preserved, so that everything reached England in perfect safety.

Jacob Wainwright was asked to read the English burial service, which he did in the presence of all. Then arrangements were made for drying and embalming the body, the heart and other internal organs first having been removed and buried. After having been dried in the sun for fourteen days, during which time the men took turns in keeping watch night and day, the body was wrapped in cloth, the legs bent inward at the knees, and the whole enclosed in a large piece of bark in the shape of a cylinder. Over this again a piece of sail cloth was sewed, and the package was lashed to a pole so as to be carried by two men. Jacob Wainwright carved the inscription on the tree where the body had rested and under which the heart was buried, and Chitambo was charged to keep the grass cleared away, and to protect the rude monument, consisting of two posts anda cross-piece, which they had erected.

They then set out on their homeward journey, which was made more serious still by the frequent ravages of sickness. The tribes through which they passed were as a general thing friendly to them, but not always. On one occasion there was a regular fight, and at another village the inhabitants showed so much opposition, that it was resolved to pack the remains so as to look exactly like a bale of merchandise. This having been done, a bundle of mapira stalks, cut into lengths of about six feet, was then enveloped in cloth, so as to imitate a dead body about to be buried. This was sent back along the way they had already traversed, as if they had changed their minds and had concluded to bury the body. As it grew dark the bearers began to throw away the stalks and wrappings, and when all were disposed of they returned to their companions. The villagers’ suspicions having been thus allayed, they were suffered to go on unmolested.

The party reached Bagamoio with their precious burden in February, 1874. Soon after Dr. Livingstone’s remains were placed on a cruiser bound for Zanzibar, and from thence sent on to England, reaching Southampton on the 15th of April.

The latest intelligence that we have had in regard to the devoted Susi, is that found in a paper of March, 1887, and is very cheering to hear. - He had then been recently baptized by a member of the Universities’ Mission, receiving the new name of David, in memory of the noble man who had first taught him what it was to be a Christian.

To many it seemed so incredible that the real body of Livingstone should have been brought all the distance from the heart of Africa to England, that some positive means of identification was necessary to put their doubts at rest. This was supplied by the false joint in the arm that the lion had crushed. High medical authorities who had examined the fractured arm years before, certified that there could not be a doubt as to these being the remains of “one of the greatest men of the human race — David Livingstone.”

On the 18th of April, 1874, the remains of the great missionary traveler were committed to their last resting. place in Westminster Abbey, where crowds of people listened to the impressive funeral services, and joined in the simple but touching words of the hymn:

O God of Bethel, by whose hand Thy people still are fed;

Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led!

‘‘Oh spread thy covering wings around, Till all our wanderings cease,

And at our Father’s loved abode, Our souls arrive in peace.”

Many of. Livingstone’s friends had come to pay their last tribute of respect and love; some who had helped to lay ‘Ma Robert” in her lonely grave twelve years before; one who had found the long lost missionary, and brought him back to life and hope; one who had himself first read the triumphant words of the burial service over the mortal remains of his loved and trusted master. All these now helped to bear him to his last resting place. And one more was there, the aged father of his beloved Mary, the one who had been the means under God of bringing him to his life work in Africa. Svrrowfully they laid him to rest, and yet with rejoicing, for they knew that the good and faithful servant had entered into the joy of his Lord.

“‘Open the Abbey doors and bear him in

To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage, The missionary come of weaver kin,

But great by work that brooks no lower wage.

“He needs no epitaph to guard a name

Which men shall prize while worthy work is known; He lived and died for good — be that his fame;

Let marble crumble; this is Living—stone.”