CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XII
The Savages Respond
From all appearances, the Aucas understood the white man's attempt to introduce himself. They seemed to recognize the regularity of the flights, and in successive weeks appeared in large numbers, more eager than ever to receive the gifts. Had they any idea of reciprocating? What were their real reactions?
For the fourth flight, Nate rigged up the plane with a battery-powered loudspeaker. As they approached the clearings, Jim called out the Auca words, "I like you! I am your friend! I like you!" Then they dropped another machete, wrapped and decorated as usual. Jim's diary describes the reaction:
"A group raced back into the trees behind the house, and one lone man walked to the beach. He cupped his hands and seemed to shout, then flashed the new machete over his head. We dropped a small aluminum pot, with ribbons. It contained a yellow shirt and beads. The Aucas below us converged on it 'like women at a bargain counter,' as Nate put it, and one was soon flailing the shirt. As we approached the house, two canoes some distance below it going downstream turned and came back upstream hurriedly. At one time I noticed people come running up through the water onto the beach, and another time a single one with a white cloth.
"We returned via the Curaray, looking for possible landing beaches. Hopes not good. Guide us, Lord God."
Back at Arajuno, the three pioneers had a council of war, deciding that the next full moon would witness the first attempt at a contact on the ground with these remote people who had won their hearts. Nate wrote that night: "May God continue to put His good hand on the project and may we drop it when not fully assured of His direction. At present we feel unanimously that God is in it. May the praise be His, and may it be that some Auca, clothed in the righteousness of Jesus Christ, will be with us as we lift our voices in praise before His throne. Amen."
On the next trip their reception was even more favorable. McCully manned the mike to call out, "We like you! We like you! We have come to pay a visit." The Aucas danced about eagerly, grabbing the machete the men had thrown, and stripped its canvas so that it shone in the sun. While circling low Ed leaned far out the door and held out both hands. The Indians, about three of them, responded by reaching out their hands too.
Ed's observations on this trip were:
"No fear manifest today, even when the plane was down low. No running inside or away. Most stood under the banana trees, possibly because of the sun. The plane gets close but somehow one longs to get closer. No sign of malice or anger. No lances seen. If there were a ladder down from the plane to them it would seem a good and safe thing to go among them."
By this time each man on the team had had time to form a judgment. "The team has a spectrum that ranges from impatience to conservatism," wrote Nate. Pete, who constantly conferred with the other three, did not feel that the next full moon was the right time for the first attempt at contact. It was too soon to assume that a longstanding hatred of white men had been overcome. The language problem was a big one-and it lay within their power to gain more knowledge of it, by working with Dayuma, the escaped Auca woman from whom Jim had gathered his material. Ed's reaction was that the next move should not necessarily be an effort at contact, but rather the establishment of a usable airstrip down the Curaray, perhaps within five miles of the "neighborhood." Meanwhile Jim was "chewing the bit." If a friendly contact were made, Jim and I were prepared to leave the work in Shandia for a time, and go in and live among the Aucas. Nate felt that the men should follow the already-established course of making regular contacts and that nothing should be done suddenly, but that each advance be allowed to "soak in" before pressing another.
On November 12, Nate Saint returned to his self-imposed task of keeping the record of Operation Auca. He wrote:
"This was the sixth week in succession that we have visited the neighbors.' It was a beautiful Saturday morning. There wasn't much cargo to go along, nor much fog in the river valleys, so I got out to Ed's place at about 8:30 A.M. He was waiting at the airstrip when I arrived.
"We took off with the public-address system and reel aboard. Ed had a machete and a small aluminum pot and a large aluminum pot set up with ribbons. Again we flew down the Curaray at low altitude so as to familiarize ourselves with the sandbars and various possible landing locations along the river. With familiarity, the sandbars look increasingly useful for our purposes. When we got to the point where we were closest to the 'neighbors' we decided that rather than turn in to them, we would fly on down the big river to see if perhaps there might not be some ideal landing spot farther down. We found none. Then we decided that since we were down that far we'd go a little farther and turn back up the little branch river along which the Aucas live.
"We flew perhaps eight to ten minutes up the small river before we stumbled onto a house ... one that we hadn't seen before. It had the coarser-leaf type of roof which slanted all the way to the ground, a gable roof. The ends of the house were also of leaf and slanted perhaps ten to fifteen degrees out from the vertical. We saw no one by whom we could judge the size of the house. It appeared to be smaller than the others, but if in reality it is smaller, then the doors in the ends were such as to require one to stoop quite low to enter. Outside the house were two distinct plantings-two patches. The taller growth was darker green and covered perhaps an acre. It did not appear to be manioc, being taller and thicker in the foliage cover. But, the interesting thing was that the plot was surrounded by a well-made fence comprised of upright posts perhaps six feet apart, interwoven with what could have been opened-up bamboo basket-weave style, so that apparently an animal larger than a cat might not be able to pass through the fence.
"After circling three times to have a good look, we headed upstream to the next house, which was the one we had previously supposed to be the most easterly of this group. This house is also the one at which we did the first 'line' drop of the little pailful of buttons. Here for the first time now on this trip we saw people, about six, I would guess. One went out on the sandbar where we had left the kettle before and waited patiently. When we waved and yelled, he waved but not with the enthusiasm that is always displayed at the other place. We supposed that he was an older fellow. His body appeared to be smeared with something opaque such as clay. There were no clothes in evidence. We made a run and dropped him a machete, free-fall. It landed right on the sandbar and was carried off with relatively little ceremony or enthusiasm. Nevertheless, there seemed to be no demonstration of hostility whatsoever; nor fear. We went on, after shouting with the public-address system that we were friends.
"At the next house we ran across a few of the `neighbors' on the sandbar. We flew quite low, shouting and waving to them without using the public-address system. Then we dropped them the little pot. It hit the playa near them and was enthusiastically received. They jumped around quite excitedly.
"Also at this house (let's number them from the east, making this one No. 3) we noticed two items especially. First, at either side of the doorway were boards perhaps twenty-five inches wide and about five feet high, decorated with bold, bright red decorations. I suppose they are doors of some sort. The other item of note was that the owners had made a woven-leaf end for their house; heretofore it has been open where it faced on the river.
"From there we went on to house No. 4, which is the one we've visited most often and at which we've been received with the most evident enthusiasm. There was a good crowd on hand to welcome us. And to our surprise, out behind their house where there had been a stand of trees and undergrowth, there was now a clean clearing about seventy-five to ninety yards in diameter. Some of the stumps were still there, but aside from that it was as clean as a basketball court. From the reaction of the people below I would guess that they couldn't decide whether to expect the drop on their new clearing, or whether we would drop it down by the house as has been the custom."
Ed's diary picks up the account of this day's operation:
"We went in low and threw an axhead, wrapped in canvas. It lit just on the west side of the clearing in the bushes. They pounced on it immediately. Then we yelled. We will give you a pot,' and went up higher. Tied on the pot, and reeled it out. This was a definite leading of God, for we had almost decided to throw the pot free instead of bothering with the line. Nate made a perfect drop. I held the line and could feel their holding on to it. They cut the pot offand tied something on! Nate spotted it and praised the Lord. When we got back to Arajuno we found that it was a Naitu or headband of woven feathers. A real answer to prayer; another sign to proceed, an encouragement that friendly relations are possible and that they will hear the Gospel!"
On November 26 Nate Saint recorded later developments:
"Last week, since Ed was not back from Quito in time for the usual run, Jim Elliot took it on with me. I picked him up in Shandia after doing some shuttling between Pano and Tena and Pano and Shandia. We stopped by Arajuno and picked up the 'gear.' There were two Indians near the plane and despite our caution they apparently managed to find out what was in the supply and said to Jim, `Why do you crazy fellows give all that good stuff to Aucas?' Jim ignored the question; but it meant quite surely that the secret was more or less out, even though they could not know any of the details.
"We flew, as I recall, quite directly to the `neighborhood' and started visiting around. At No. 4 house two men had climbed up on top of what we had previously thought of as a sun shelter-a high bamboo roof or platform perhaps six feet off the ground. We circled low several times and decided to go ahead with a previouslydiscussed plan aimed at getting them to cut down the trees at the far side of the clearing as a sort of approach or 'go-around' which would permit us to fly low enough for them to see us so as to be able to recognize us later on the ground. The plan was to drop our gifts into the trees we wanted down.
"First we dropped an axhead. Unfortunately it landed at the foot of the trees in question. Next time around we tossed out four plastic combs with streamers of bandage material tied on them. Happily a couple of them at least got hung up in the trees.
"Next we went to No. 3. Everyone was out in great style. One man had one of our gift shirts on. (The rest were in more typical uniform.) We circled and waved and then went on down to the old man's house. He was out with his two women. We didn't feel that he warranted too good a gift, so we tossed him a pair of `store-bought' trousers. After circling back to make sure he got them okay, we went on back to No. 3. We tossed the people there a machete with a pair of shorts attached.
"From here we climbed on up over No. 4 to get ready to let down the kettle for the last act of the day.
"I neglected to mention earlier that in rummaging in the emergency kit Ed had made up, we found a roll of tissue. We thought it might help to get those tall trees down if we were to drape the tissue along the treetops. Such a drop might seem to be utilizing their curiosity to an unfair advantage but on the other hand they were amply repaid for any trouble that they went to. When we tossed the roll, however, it reeled off about six feet and then the wind tore off that length. This process was repeated until there was a curious white dotted line floating down into the trees.
"The wind was rather strong today and I had trouble staying over the clearing as we let the kettle down. It required some six or eight attempts before the kettle landed in the little river at the edge of the clearing. They were at it in an instant. But in that same instant I had to roll out of the turn upwind to keep from getting too far from the clearing. That put quite a pull on the line at the moment they were trying to work with it. In about thirty seconds they let it go. It appeared to have a gift on it ... something small, perhaps, like the combs [received earlier with the headband].
"As we left the area I called in and reported that we were on our way back. Marj answered that the Drown baby was sick and that I should make the best possible time so as to be able to fly into Macuma if necessary. Therefore, I flew at seventy miles per hour and somewhere along the line we lost the gift. About halfway back I noticed that it was missing. It was a keen disappointment."
In Jim's account of this day's operation, he said: "I saw a thing that thrilled me-it seemed an old man who stood beside the house waved with both his arms as if to signal us to come down!Aucas, waving to me to come! God send me soon to the Aucas!"
At the end of his record of the eighth visit, Nate wrote: "One of the problems we face now is getting another man to bring our manpower up to strength. The Lord is abundantly able!"
Although five men would eventually make up "Operation Auca," only three-Nate, Jim, and Ed-were definitely committed at this time. Pete, who had been as vitally interested as these three, was, however, not clear whether God's leading was for him to go or to stay.
It was now that Nate thought of Roger Youderian. They had worked together opening up the Atshuara country, building two other outstation airstrips, and Nate was sure of Roger's capabilities. He saw him as a soldier of Christ, "a man capable of great effort, trained and disciplined," he wrote of him. "He knows the importance of unswerving conformity to the will of his Captain. Obedience is not a momentary option; it is a diecast decision made beforehand. He was a disciplined paratrooper. He gave Uncle Sam his best in that battle and now he is determined that the Lord Jesus Christ shall not get less than his best. Everything that made him a good soldier has been consecrated to Christ, his new Captain!"
Ed and Jim hardly knew Roger; working with different Indians in another part of the Oriente, they had had little occasion for more than a passing acquaintance. But they trusted Nate's judgment implicitly.
As it happened, Roger was in Shell Mera at this time. He had come out from Macuma to help build a mission-sponsored hospital there. So one day, as Roger was nailing down sheets of aluminum on the roof, Nate came to him, told him of Operation Auca, and asked him to go along as the badly-needed fourth man. Nate did not want to leave his plane on the beach at night where it might be open to damage. Neither was he anxious to leave the two men alone overnight. Would Roj go?
Roger agreed immediately. But all unknown to the others, he was, at that time, passing through a deeply personal spiritual struggle and he began to wonder if he should join the others in the physical venture when not with them completely in spirit.
Only he and Barbara were aware of the struggle he was going through. He questioned whether, after all, he was accomplishing anything whatever in the mission field. He had broken the language barrier, to be sure, but why had there not been an immediate show of fruit for his labors?
A missionary plods through the first year or two, thinking that things will be different when he speaks the language. He is baffled to find, frequently, that they are not. He is stripped of all that may be called "romance." Life has fallen more or less into a pattern. Day follows day in unbroken succession; there are no crises, no mass conversions, sometimes not even one or two to whom he can point and say: "There is a transformed life. If I had not come, he would never have known Christ." There will be those among the Indians who say that they accept Christ, but what of the forsaking of heathen custom and turning from sin to a life of holiness? The missionary watches, and longs, and his heart sickens.
The forces of evil, unchallenged for so long, are now set in array against the missionary.
Roger Youderian was finding out the power of these forces. He wrote in his diary: "About ready to call it quits. Seems to me there is no future in the Jivaria for us, and the wisest thing for us to do will be to pull stakes. Will wait until I've had a chance to talk it over with Barb and see what she has to say. We might pass Christmas here, finish the hospital in Shell, and head home. The reason: Failure to measure up as a missionary and get next to the people. As far as my heart and aspirations are concerned, the issue is settled. It's a bit difficult to discern just what is the cause of my failure and the forces behind it. Since March, when we left Wambimi, there has been no message from the Lord for us. I just picked up my Bible to share with the same Lord who made me a new creature in England eleven years ago. There was no word of encouragement from Him. He had kept us safe wonderfully, and met our needs, but the issue is far greater than that. There is no ministry for me among the Jivaros or the Spanish, and I'm not going to try to fool myself. I wouldn't support a missionary such as I know myself to be, and I'm not going to ask anyone else to. Three years is long enough to learn a lesson and learn it well. Some people are slow to catch on. It will be tough on Barb and the children, but I've always been convinced that honesty and sincerity pays. The milk is spilled-I'm not going to cry over it. The cause of Christ in the Jivaria will not suffer for our having been there, but I must be honest and confess that it has not been helped. I don't think it will come as much of a surprise to many and will only bean 'I told you so.'
"There is no spiritual pressure in the issue, and in fact very little of emotion or stress; perhaps none.
"1 realize that many along the way will say that we gave up too easy. Perhaps. But I believe that God's way is to face the issue and let our yea be yea and nay be nay. I'm amen for the cause of Christ but believe that the part I ch , no I cannot say the part I chose; I believe that the Lord chose the Jivaria for us but I just didn't measure up to it. You will say that when the Lord calls, He supplies. You can have my boots anytime you want them. It isn't there. I'm not good at pretending.
"I do not put any blame on personalities or circumstances involved; the failure is mine, and my failure to achieve the personal experience of Christ that could meet the needs here. It didn't pan out. It is not because of wife and family. Macuma station is ample for a home for them and all we need has been offered.
"The issue is personal, and personal it shall remain. What is the answer? I do not know. And I'm discouraged about finding any satisfactory solution. Have been battling and thinking the issue for many months. There is no answer. It is a combination of situations and talents that has me buffaloed. This is the first time in my life that I have turned my back, but they say there is a first time for everything.
"We are a happy family. He has kept us well and given us sound bodies and, we trust, sound minds. Whatever He has for us is fine but I'm afraid that anything along missionary lines has been scared out of me. If I couldn't make the grade here in Macuma I'm not foolish enough to expect a change of setting would change me. This is my personal `Waterloo' as a missionary.
"It seems strange to try and sit back and view it in an impersonal way. Of this much I'm sure: it will draw me to read His word more, be more tolerant of others, and less venturesome in my activities.
"Some will wonder why we don't seek a place in the Spanish or Quichua work. Frankly, I'm not interested. And, especially after this experience, I'm not begging for any more headaches. Only a fool makes the same mistake twice. One mess seems to me ought to be enough.
"Here I sit at 11 A.M. Wednesday listening to the services. I told them from the window that I would not come. First they sang 'Wonderful Words of Life,' and then 'Oh Say but I'm Glad.' I've found an English hymn book to see if there might be some consolation in a hymn. There is none. It is beyond me. My, what a world of time I've wasted. The ruts are worn deep and it won't be easy to change habits and give up the lost ground or let it be gained by the Lord. But surely it will be worth the battle. My mind was made only to love Him; my body, also, which includes my tongue in all its activities. How slow some of us are to learn.
"I will be led and taught of the Holy Spirit. God desires full development, use, and activity of our faculties. The Holy Spirit can and will guide me in direct proportion to the time and effort I will expend to know and do the will of God. I must read the Bible to know God's will. At every point I will obey and do.
"A week spent in Shell Mera, prior to this period, when I reiterated many times a day 'Thy will be done' helped much to fortify me for this struggle."
Roger had not yet emerged from his "dark night of the soul" when Nate approached him. The days which followed found him in a desperate struggle to know the will of God. He had no doubt of his own desire-he would go if that were all that mattered. But to go without the smile of God-that would be impossible. "If Thy presence go not with us, carry us not up hence." Roger recognized something of what this decision might mean for him, and the hours spent on his knees with God witnessed agony of soul. But God, "who causes us to triumph," brought him out of his slough of despond.
"He was cleansed through the Spirit for the task that lay ahead of him," said Barbara afterward, "and went with a happy, expectant mind and his heart full of joy."
On December 19 he wrote in his diary: "I will die to self. I will be gin to ask God to put me in a service of constant circumstances where to live Christ I must die to self. I will be alive unto God. That I may learn to love Him with my heart, mind, soul, and body."
Just before he left Macuma to join the four in Arajuno, he wrote:
"There is a seeking of honest love Drawn from a soul storm-tossed, A seeking for the gain of Christ, To bless the blinded, the beaten, the lost. "Those who sought found Heavenly Love And were filled with joy divine, They walk today with Christ above ..............................
The last line eluded him, and as he put down his pencil, he said, "Barb, I'll finish it when I get home."