among them to whom they can go in any trouble or distress, who will
comfort and advise them, who visits them in sickness, who relieves
them in want, and who they see living from day-to-day in danger of
persecution and death--entirely for their sakes.
My friend at Bukit-tima was truly a father to his flock. He preached
to them in Chinese every Sunday, and had evenings for discussion and
conversation on religion during the week. He had a school to teach their
children. His house was open to them day and night. If a man came to him
and said, "I have no rice for my family to eat today," he would give
him half of what he had in the house, however little that might be. If
another said, "I have no money to pay my debt," he would give him half
the contents of his purse, were it his last dollar. So, when he was
himself in want, he would send to some of the wealthiest among his
flock, and say, "I have no rice in the house," or "I have given away my
money, and am in want of such and such articles." The result was that
his flock trusted and loved him, for they felt sure that he was their
true friend, and had no ulterior designs in living among them.
The island of Singapore consists of a multitude of small hills, three or
four hundred feet high, the summits of many of which are still covered
with virgin forest. The mission-house at Bukit-tima was surrounded
by several of these wood-topped hills, which were much frequented by
woodcutters and sawyers, and offered me an excellent collecting ground
for insects. Here and there, too, were tiger pits, carefully covered
over with sticks and leaves, and so well concealed, that in several
cases I had a narrow escape from falling into them. They are shaped
like an iron furnace, wider at the bottom than the top, and are perhaps
fifteen or twenty feet deep so that it would be almost impossible for
a person unassisted to get out of one. Formerly a sharp stake was stuck
erect in the bottom; but after an unfortunate traveller had been killed
by falling on one, its use was forbidden. There are always a few tigers
roaming about Singapore, and they kill on an average a Chinaman every
day, principally those who work in the gambir plantations, which are
always made in newly-cleared jungle. We heard a tiger roar once or twice
in the evening, and it was rather nervous work hunting for insects among
the fallen trunks and old sawpits when one of these savage animals might
be lurking close by, awaiting an opportunity to spring upon us.
Several hours in the middle of every fine day were spent in these
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