The British consul, Mr.
Frater, lent him a chair and a bed. There was one old Chinese,
who kept a shop near by, and who seemed inclined to be friendly
to the queer barbarian with the black beard. He presented him
with an old pewter lamp, and the house was furnished complete.
Mackay sat down at his one table, the first night after he was
settled. The damp air was hot and heavy, and swarms of tormenting
mosquitoes filled the room. Through the open door came the murmur
of the river, and from far down in the village the sounds of
harsh, clamorous voices. He was alone, many, many miles from home
and friends. Around him on every side were bitter enemies.
One might have supposed he would be overcome at the thought of
the stupendous task before him, but whoever supposed that did not
know George Mackay. He lighted his pewter lamp, opened his diary,
and these are the words he wrote:
"Here I am in this house, having been led all the way from the
old homestead in Zorra by Jesus, as direct as though my boxes
were labeled, 'Tamsui, Formosa, China.' Oh, the glorious
privilege to lay the foundation of Christ's Church in unbroken
heathenism! God help me to do this with the open Bible! Again I
swear allegiance to thee, O King Jesus, my Captain.
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