Tomorrow's Treasure (8 page)

The whitewashed walls of the House of Mercy mission station burned in the dawn sunlight with the brilliance of bleached bone. The dwelling, surrounded by wide, shaded verandas roofed with thatch, stood a little apart from the church and its attendant buildings below the distant rocky hills that marked the boundary of Zululand.

Dr. Clyde Varley was an early riser. He was fully aware that the troops under Lord Chelmsford, some seven thousand strong, had already ridden from Rorke's Drift and were well into Zulu territory. By now Chelmsford would have divided his men into three groups, the smallest camped at Isandlwana while the other two were out looking for the great army of the Zulu chieftain, known to be up to thirty thousand strong.

Dr. Varley was worried. He was not pleased with this British mission into Zululand. The chieftain had ordered all missionaries out of his land, and the House of Mercy at Rorke's Drift was on the very border between Zululand and Natal. Varley did not think much of the British general, for it was clear Chelmsford did not appreciate the strength of
the Zulu warriors. He trusted in his weapons and his experience in battle with other lesser tribes.

But the Zulus were fierce warriors. They had no friends among the other African tribes—too many of them had felt the deadly blade of the assegai, the broad, short, stabbing sword of the Zulu.

Dr. Varley was frowning to himself when a young man he liked, Captain Durbin, came walking toward him at the mission gate.

“Good morning, Doctor,” the smiling young captain called.

“Good morning, Captain.”

Captain Durbin walked beside a squarely built bear of a man, Hans Kruger, a Boer commander from the Dutch-controlled Transvaal. The Boer was wearing the customary Dutch leather jerkins and hat, in contrast to the British redcoated uniforms.

“Good mornin', Parson,” the Boer called.

“You're leaving Rorke's Drift?” Dr. Varley knew they were; he had seen them readying the transport line during the night.

Captain Durbin nodded. “I received word last night from General Chelmsford. I and my men are to bolster the forces at Isandlwana. We wanted to alert you before we left. We know from scouts that the Zulus number about twenty thousand. We don't expect that great a thrust, but it might be wise to send Mrs. Varley and the baby into Natal with the other civilians under your charge.”

“You think Cetshwayo will attack this far from Isandlwana?” Dr. Varley couldn't imagine it. Usually seven thousand troops were quite enough—especially when facing fighters with spears.

“I doubt if any of them will get past our troops, but with the woman here I felt I should mention the possibility.”

The Boer made a throaty sound of disagreement and fingered his sjambok. “Yah, we have had battles with the Zulu afore now, Captain Durbin.” He shook his golden head. “The Zulu must not be underestimated. They are fierce warriors. Cetshwayo's elite Impis are wanting a battle. They cannot marry until they initiate their assegais in enemy blood. Cetshwayo has kept them from war since he took over after his father, but they're wanting it, I can tell you so.”

“Maybe. But you Boers tend to exaggerate when it comes to the Zulus.” Captain Durbin's smile was indulgent. “If they do attack Chelmsford at Isandlwana, the general will defeat them without difficulty. What are spears against rifles and cannon? I fear it will all be over before I get there.”

“You underestimate,” the Boer said again. “Your general does not take wise precautions. Trenches should be built at Isandlwana, rocks gathered for defense lines, the wagons drawn in to form a wagon laager.” He shook his big head again. “You do not worry enough, Captain.”

Captain Durbin's impatient shrug was quick and abrupt. “We cannot waste the time, Hans. After this there will be no more skirmishes with Cetshwayo. He will go scurrying back to his kraal at Ulundi. At any rate, Dr. Varley, I'm under orders to leave soldiers here to man the guns and guard Rorke's Drift. But you might consider sending Mrs. Varley to Natal.”

“Yes, Captain. The Scriptures say, “ ‘With good advice make war.' And God be with you.”

The three men shook hands, then Dr. Varley watched the soldiers mount their horses and ride toward the column. He continued to watch them until they had been ferried across Buffalo River into Zululand, then he sighed.
Dear Father in heaven, I am worried. War … and death! Souls will be entering eternity totally unprepared for Your holy presence. So few know the beloved Savior.

Junia Varley cradled baby Evy in her arms and tried to hush her crying.
Father God, how You have blessed me! I feel like Sarah holding Isaac. With Sarah I can say, “Who would have said … that Sarah should have given children suck!” Yet you have given me this precious daughter to raise to know You.

Perhaps, when Evy grew a little older, Junia would ask Clyde to let her go home to Grimston Way in England for a visit with her sister, Grace, who was married to Vicar Edmund Havering.

Junia secretly dreamed of the quiet rose gardens and village streets of England with its cool misty fog. The stony hills of Zululand, the thorn trees, and the wildlife were all a part of God's wonderful creation, but the heat, dust, and dangers from the different African tribes were a worrisome burden to live with, especially now with a baby.

She heard the sound of horses and carried Evy to the door in time to see the soldiers being ferried across the river to the hinterland. Thank God some soldiers were still left at Rorke's Drift. She walked out into the early morning to join her husband, who turned and smiled down at her and the baby, putting his arm around Junia's shoulders.

“There may be trouble ahead, Junia. The Boer might be right after all. Perhaps I should send you and the baby to Pietermaritzburg until this war with the Zulus is settled.”

“They would never cross the river to the mission station, would they?” She did her best to sound calm and confident.

“I do not think so, my dear, but we'll take no chances. I'll arrange a wagon and ox today.”

“I'm certain tomorrow will be soon enough, Clyde. Look, someone is coming in a carriage. Why, its Jendaya … and an English woman. I wonder who that could be?”

“I don't know, but this is the wrong time for visitors to see the mission.”

“Maybe they've come to warn us?”

Clyde shook his head. “Seems they would have sent a few men with rifles for that. Let's go greet them.”

“She's a lovely young girl. Do you suppose she's one of the soldiers' wives?”

“If she is, I shall need to give her worrisome news. Captain Durbin's troops have ridden to Isandlwana to reinforce the base camp there.”

They waited until the carriage drew to a halt, then Clyde lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello, Jendaya, you've brought us a guest?”

Jendaya did not get down immediately, but the young English woman did, as though she were exhausted from the ride. Junia watched her, taking in the dazed expression as the woman stood staring, first at
the baby, then at Junia. She smiled again and patted the baby. After a moment of silence, Junia walked toward the woman.

“Welcome to Mercy House. I'm Junia Varley, and this is my husband Dr. Clyde Varley. We're the missionaries here, but I'm sure you've been told that already. Won't you come in and refresh yourself? I shall make tea. And you must be famished too.”

The woman walked toward her with slow steps. She swayed a little on her feet, and Junia was relieved when Clyde stepped forward, taking hold of her. “My dear woman, are you ill?”

When she said nothing, he looked up at Jendaya for explanation.

“Bring her into the hut, Clyde,” Junia said hurriedly. “She may have sunstroke. Jendaya can explain everything once we get the girl settled.”

Odd
, Junia thought, leading the way to the mission hut,
how she keeps staring at Evy.

After they had gotten the young woman indoors on a cot, Junia sent Jendaya to start the water boiling on the outside earthen oven to make tea. Junia went for a jug of water so she could wash the woman's face and hands and feet. She looked so exhausted and frightened and she still had said nothing.

When Junia came back into the hut she stopped. The woman had gotten up from the cot and was kneeling beside Evy's little crib, rocking it gently and humming Brahms's “Lullaby.”

Junia felt awash with pity. Was the woman—mentally ill? Had the heat gotten to her that badly on the trip from Natal? Maybe Clyde had learned what this visit was about from Jendaya. She glanced toward the carriage. What was taking Clyde so long? Junia saw Clyde talking with Jendaya some distance from the hut, near where the baking oven was located. She could see Jendaya stooping down while watching the water and talking to him. Clyde was standing, tall and lean and very British looking, a safari hat on his head, his arms folded, paying close attention to the woman. Junia knew her husband well enough after all these years to realize when something troubled him. He was not pleased with whatever Jendaya was telling him.

She turned back to the young woman and smiled at her, wondering
what her name was. She must be a soldier's wife in fear for her husband who had decided to chance everything to come here. Some wives were like that when they knew their husbands were being sent into the hinterland during conflicts with the tribes, especially the Zulus. Yet she had not asked about her husband. Perhaps she had seen that most of the soldiers had already left Rorke's Drift and crossed the river. Junia went to kneel down beside the woman and the baby.

“Her name is Evy,” Junia said gently, quietly, because the baby was asleep now. “Isn't she a precious one? She's only two months old. She's adopted—or soon will be. We must go to Capetown for that. Then she'll be our very own Evy Varley.”

The woman had ceased her singing, but she was still rocking the cradle, staring down at the sleeping infant.

Junia tried again: “What is your name?”

The woman's hand stilled on the cradle. “Katie. Katie van Buren.” She looked across the cradle at Junia, and Junia saw a look of tragedy in her eyes that brought a silence between them. The girl seemed to be watching her expectantly, as though she thought Junia would know who she was.

Junia smiled. “Van Buren? That is Dutch. Then you must be a Boer? Did you come from the Transvaal or the Orange Free State?” Although the Transvaal and Natal were no longer under Boer rule, the Transvaal had recently been annexed days after the new British governor and high commissioner, Sir Bartle Frere, had arrived from Bombay, India.

“Do you have family in the Transvaal?” Junia tried to restrain her curiosity.

At this Katie seemed frightened. “I … I don't know anymore.” Katie's hand went to her forehead and she rested it there, closing her eyes. “I don't know about anything anymore. I'm so weary, everything is so hopeless …” Despair pinched her voice.

Junia frowned. Katie was indeed ill. “Come, my dear, you must rest for now. We can talk later, after you've eaten something and finished your tea. And a good sleep will do wonders to put worries into perspective.”

“May I hold the baby while I rest?”

Junia saw the wistful look on the woman's soiled, sweat-stained face.

“Evy is fast asleep, but yes.” Junia could feel the young woman's need to touch something fresh and beautiful. “You lie down, I'll wash you with cool water, and then I'll bring Evy to your arms.”

Katie smiled, her lips quavering, and a tear ran down her cheek leaving a line through the dust. “Thank you.” She spoke so meekly, so quietly that Junia could hardly hear her.

Worry nudged Junia as she removed the woman's shoes and socks and loosened her bodice. She washed her face and arms, then her feet.

“You're very kind,” Katie murmured, watching her.

“It is the least I can do, Katie. A little tea, some food, and when you wish to talk I can listen to your worries. You are welcome at the House of Mercy.”

“And you'll let me hold … hold the baby.”

“Yes, you can hold Evy.” Had Katie lost her own child? Was that the reason for her behavior? Junia felt growing sympathy for her.

Lord, please help this sad young woman. Meet her need, and heal the ache within her. And if I can help in any way Lord, please show me.