The Faith That Endured

THE FAITH THAT ENDURED By O. B. Peterson, Former President of the Tahitian Mission "He that endureth to the end shall be saved." — Matthew 10:22. As the evening shadows cast a dusky mantle over the coral isles of the South Pacific, a sailing craft of twelve tons put to sea from the island of Rairoa, Tuamotu archipeligo, bound for Tahiti. Its cargo was copra; its passengers and crew numbered eleven — five native men, three native women, a child, a Spaniard and a Chinaman, The tropic moon smiled pleasantly in lighting their way, and with the favor of a brisk, steady breeze, the little boat flitted merrily over the waves, and by morning had landed them safely at the phos- phate island, Makatea. They had little to do at this place, and were soon on their way again to the Eden of the Pacific. Fortune continued to ride with them for a while, but as the day waned and the sun sought the horizon, the wind veered to the south and began vehemently to oppose their progress. Dame Fortune bade them adieu. They were soon unable to advance farther in the direc- tion desired, so they set their compass for the island of Raiatea, lying to the west; and thus they continued for the two days following. The wind, however, steadily increased in velocity until it became a furious gale; and the sea joined in the game, as if the little craft were a ball to be tossed to and fro, hither and yon; and not satisfied with mere play, the angry waves soon began to break over the deck of the boat, in an effort, apparently, to submerge it entirely. Seeing this, and thinking probably to thwart the efforts of both ship and sea, the rain beat down in torrents. The company of unfortunate souls had no refuge from the fury of Nature's onslaught, but were compelled to remain on deck and breast the storm, with light or heavy heart as the case might be. They first reefed their sails, and then finally lowered them altogether, leaving the frail, little boat entirely to the mercy of the elements; and further trying to reconcile, rather than oppose, the angry sea, the course was changed to agree with the running of the waves, which headed them back for the island of Makatea. The men were ordered also to put some of the cargo on deck, to jafford them all possible protection, and two anchors were prepared and dropped into the sea at the front of the ship to help hold it in an upright position. The force of the wind made it impossible to light the ship's lanterns, so they performed their necessary tasks and read the compass by the aid of a hand searchlight. It seemed to them that matters could not possibly be worse. They were then approximately fifty miles southwest from Makatea; ominous night had come upon them; darkness as of the inner recesses of the earth settled down over the briny deep. They were trying to calm

J 3 6 IMPROVEMENT ERA themselves with the hope that the light of another morning would bring relief to their anxious hearts. But alas! The action had not thus been written into their drama; the denouement had been re- served for another time — they had been merely working up to the climax. At that moment the wind suddenly came in a whirl; the light craft was caught in its meshes and overturned, and its forlorn occupants emptied carelessly into the surging billows of the sea. Oh! Could there be a worse fate? That green, foamy, briny, ghostly, heaving mass, clutching at them as the arms and suckers of an octopus; and then to be hurled bodily into its very embrace! The hero of the occasion was Mohi (Mo-he), a large, well built, serious-minded native, whom but to know is to admire. His office of elder in the L. D. S. Church, backed with faith well grounded in the A SAILING CRAFT OF TWELVE TONS PUT TO SEA principles and doctrines of that religion, had made him the staying power among the little company up to this moment of despair. He had encouraged them; he had told them that morning would oring a change to their advantage; his advice, his judgment, his faith and trust in God were held in high esteem by all on board. Among the passengers of the capsized boat were his son and daughter-in-law, Vaio (Vi-o) and wife; but Mohi's anxiety and consideration reached not only these, but all whose lives were now endangered. The time for wise, quick, strenuous action had suddenly arrived — a moment's delay would mean the loss of some or all of them. No one realized this more than Mohi. He immediately called to each one, name by name, and received an answer from all but the Spaniard. When last seen he was sitting on the'eabin; and, thinking that he might have gone inside and was trapped there, Mohi dived under the ship and

THE FAITH THAT ENDURED 33 7 entered the cabin,' but it was so dark that he could see nothing, and was forced to return to the surface. Being an expert swimmer and diver, despite his sixty-odd years, he made several other attempts to find the lost man, by diving under and about the boat, but to no avail — the Spaniard was never seen again. He turned his attention to the re- maining members of the party, still floundering among the raging bil- lows and clinging to the edge of the ship or parts of the rigging, in darkness as that of the blind; and those who were unable to help them- selves he assisted to £ place of safety upon the side of the boat. He found the mother of the little boy struggling to save both herself and her child; the Chinaman was hanging to the main boom. But even when the probability of immediate death had been overcome, it was still a constant and strenuous task to hold on to the side of the overturned boat in so furious and wild a sea. Mohi's faith was not without works, however; he continued to use every means possible by which the safety of his friends might be secured. Diving into the sea again, he cut the jib sail loose, brought it to the top and tied it so as to break the force of the waves. He then made fast another rope over the side of the ship to which they all could cling and thus lessen the danger of being washed off into that surging, dashing, covetous monster of death. Now that everyone was secure and as comfortable as possible, Mohi took his stand on the keel at the stern of the ship, with a rope as support, and watched and swayed as the dark, dismal hours of night tolled off, until the break of day shed light upon the pathetic scene. When day dawned the captain and Vaio suggested that the mast be removed, thinking the boat could then be righted. To such action, however, Mohi refused to accede, as he sensed the dangerous probability of losing mast, sails, ropes/ anchors and all — and Mohi's judgment takes precedent over even a ship captain's in so grave a situation. But the captain and Vaio argued and insisted until, finally, Mohi consented. As the mast was loosened, a large wave struck the ship — the mast and all connected with it, together with part of the ship's flooring, were torn away. Mohi tried to tie them to the rear of the boat, but the rope was too short, and he was compelled to let them go — true to his premonition, all were lost. The ship was righted, but far more dam- age than good had been done. Their plight now was at the extreme — nothing left but a shell of a boat, and that filling with water. They all sensed the apparent hopelessness of their predicament; but Mohi had reserved the greatest expression of his faith and hope till last. In that little company were Catholics, Protestants, Reorganites and Latter-day Saints. Mohi addressed them: "Of ourselves we can do no more; we are doomed; there is no way by which we may escape the grim spectre, Death, which is slowly but surely approaching, except through the help of God. This is no time for difference of opinion, or variety of religious thought. If you will unite your faith with mine, we will ask the Lord for help, and we shall be saved." They readily agreed. Mohi then asked his daughter-in-law, a member of the Re- organite church, to lead them in song, after which he prayed, with

33 8 IMPROVEMENT ERA implicit faith and confidence, nothing wavering, to that God whom he had been taught to worship and to approach in time of need. Judg- ing the time by the sun and the stars, they held such a prayer service at 6 a. m., 10 a. m., 3 p.m. and 9 p. m. of each day. As each day came and went without sign of sail or help in any form, their plight increased — they were gradually sinking into oblivion. With no food, no water, no sustenance of any kind, they became weaker and weaker, but they still had faith and hope — at least Mohi did. On the fourth day, after the 8 o'clock prayer, the daughter-in-law said she had received a manifestation of some nature, in which she seemed to see two personages approaching the boat; the one dressed in black; the other, in white. As they reached the boat, the one in black went on; while the one in white stopped to view the situation, but disappeared as Mohi said, "Amen." The relating of this incident, whatever it was, gave new courage and life to the sufferers. It was a sign, they said, that they were to be saved. The women now were physically unable to sing, but Mohi con- tinued to pray at the appointed hours. The morning of the fifth day brought a calm sea, placid, unruffled; the Demon of the storm had spent his strength, and, thinking there was little more to do, had left the vanquished on the battlefield, apparently to die at leisure. The calm sea, however, permitted them to bail the water from their boat, thus raising it above the surface of the sea, and improving their con- dition somewhat. Great sharks swam leisurely about the boat, as if waiting for a tasty human morsel; but Mohi, unafraid, motivated by faith and the desire to appease their appetites and satisfy their curiosities, swam as leisurely among them, feeding them bits of copra from out his hands. Thus faith closed the mouths of sharks, as it had closed the mouths of lions. In the afternoon of the fifth day, the Chinaman, whose faith apparently was no longer equal to the trial, became delirious and, in an attempt to jump overboard, fell into Mohi's arms and passed away. In the evening Mohi ordered them all to keep their places and to look straight ahead. He then took the Chinaman's body to the rear of the boat, prepared it as best he could for burial, dedicated the spot, and consigned the remains to an ocean grave. Having no weights to use, he feared the body would return to the surface; but as it was lowered into the sea, it took a downward course and disappeared. That night and the next day passed without much change, except that the increasing pangs of hunger and thirst added steadily to their emaciation. As the seventh day of their plight dawned, a beautiful Sabbath morning, their cloud of despair showed a silver lining. When their boat was upset they were southwest from Makatea, but they had now drifted to the northeast, or leeward, side of that island. On the western horizon a dark speck took shape and as it increased in size, their hearts responded with a like increase in interest and anxiety. Was it but the sign of another impending storm? "A ship!" shouted Mohi; "'tis the smoke of a steamer." Those magic words caused a thrill and awaken-

THE FAITH THAT ENDURED 339 ing of the little party, such as might be expected when Gabriel blows his trump on the morn of the resurrection. And such veritably it seemed to them. The exultation at the thought of possible rescue and prolonged life made them forget for the moment their misery and suf- fering. Mohi quickly took some boards from the boat, fastened them together, tied a cloth to the end, and frantically signalled — but to no avail. As the rays of the sun break through the density of a storm cloud for just a moment and then recede, so their little world was left again in gloom, darkness and despair. * * * * The steamer was headed for Makatea. They had been at sea about twelve days, and all on board were now eagerly watching the island in the distance — the reason for their not seeing the drifing wreck on the port side of the ship. * * * * They continued to place their trust in God; and Mohi prayed steadfastly for their relief and rescue, with faith that but few know. He also conducted religious service that Sunday morning, and en- couraged his fellow-sufferers with quotations from the scriptures, where- in was shown the mercy and protection of God toward the prophets and saints of old in times of distress and danger. "By their faith were they saved," said Mohi, "and despite the apparent hopelessness of our situation, we must not give up; as long as there is life there is hope; only 'he that endureth to the end shall be saved.' " The cries of the little boy for something to eat and drink, to which it was impossible for them to comply, were like knife-thrusts into the hearts of those loving, sympathetic people. His frail little tabernacle, being unequal to the ordeal of seven days without food or water, aggravated by wet and cold, began to crumble and break down. His little spirit, finding that tabernacle no longer a fit place in which to dwell, it appeared, was preparing to take its leave. Mohi dedicated him to the Lord, and with true mother-love the women huddled about him on the deck of the ship. With the coming of night, there came a feeling of peace, calm, hope, joy. The tropic moon shone full and clear; with not a ripple on the ocean, nor the slightest breeze to break the stillness. As in the fields of Bethlehem, when the angels announced the birth of the Savior, so the very atmosphere surrounding them seemed filled with the announcement of something about to occur. Midnight approached. Most of the others were asleep; but Mohi sat by himself and — waited. For some time he had been watching a dark object in the distant west. He said nothing of it to the others; he wondered if it were just his imagination; an illusion, perhaps. It appeared to be approaching, nearer and nearer. Still he said nothing; the men of the party had made the threat that they would swim for the first thing that looked like land or ship, and a danger lay in their emaciated condition; then, too, he knew that to arouse them with a false hope would tend to destroy rather than to buoy up their faith. Another half hour of almost breathless

340 IMPROVEMENT ERA suspense passed; he was hoping to see a light, but only the stars and moon gave semblance of what he sought. But there! there! He rubbed his eyes. Was he dreaming? No, there it was — a red light! Out of the abundance of his heart his mouth spoke — he thanked the Lord! He then broke the news. The sleepers awoke with a start; excitement reigned supreme. They wanted to jump into the ocean and swim to the oncoming vessel; but Mohi restrained them. He knew that seven days of constant peril, without either food or drink, had robbed them of the necessary endurance for such a feat. "Save your energy," he counseled, "and when the time is right we will all join in a call of distress." On came the ship — a steamer. But, see! It was heading straight for the little craft! What did it mean? Were they to be destroyed after all? There seemed almost a cessation of heartbeats for the second. Ah! It veered to the left and continued ahead. Now, together. "Ship ahoy!" rang out as one voice, clear and resonant, over the shimmering, placid sea. Could it be that they had not heard? They would likely all be asleep, except the watch, at this time of night. There was no sign of response — the ship sped past and on. Hope began to die. But why was it making that turn to the right? Ah, could it be? They waited breathlessly. The vessel was returning. Mohi urged them to call again. As their anxious cry again broke the stillness of the night, the searchlights of the steamer began to play upon the surface of the sea. They had heard. The source of the weird night-call was soon located, the life boat quickly lowered, and the little party of dis- tressed souls taken aboard. The remains of the craft on which they had weathered the worst was left behind. S|C 5JC 3)C ' 3fS Upon the arrival of the steamer at Makatea that Sunday morning, the captain explained later, they found several ships ahead of them. This meant a delay of a few days before they could get their load of phosphate. There being no suitable place at which to drop anchor, the captain decided to cruise around in the open sea at the leeward side of the island. He set the compass, left an officer in charge of the wheel and retired to his room. Without any apparent reason, however, he returned to the wheel and ordered the course changed more to the left, and retired again. But he felt queer, nervous, restless — he was unable to sleep. He returned to the deck again and sat down beside the wheel. Suddenly and impulsively he grasped the wheel and gave it a mighty spin, which caused the ship to swerve quickly to the left; then held it again to a straight course. He started again for his room; but stopped — and listened. What was that, a cry of distress? He asked the man at the wheel if he heard anything. The officer answered that it sounded like someone calling. "Turn the ship around," was the command; and the big vessel was soon heading in the opposite direc- tion. The call sounded again from the surface of the deep — there was no mistake this time — and the searchlights were soon able to say, "There they are."

THE FAITH THAT ENDURED 341 The people of the steamer were English, and the natives told their story by means of signs and a few words of French, which Vaio and one of the ship's men could speak and understand. Many kinds of tempting food were placed before them; but the ship'-s doctor ordered it taken away, and regulated their diet to suit their condition. The ON CAME THE SHIP — A STEAMER. MOHI THANKED THE LORD doctor also took charge of the little boy, in whom the flame of life still flickered, but it shortly afterwards died out. The rescued party were taken to the island of Makatea, where friends ministered to their needs. Thus had their faith been tested, and, being of the quality "that endureth to the end," had brought them deliverance and prolonged life. Do Spare This Tree Oh, Forestry, do spare this tree! Oh, famous, patient, ancient tree, An emblem of eternity, Master of humility! That bathes in light with one applause The frosty years throughout your days To all of God's eternal laws, Were also met with Summer's blaze; And sighs to all who call, "Be free." But living law has held you free. Oh, faithful wonder, ancient tree, Partaker of all purity! If we could live to your great age And still retain a cleanly page, How great our glory then would be. Mink, Creek, Idaho. Oh, Forestry, do spare this tree, An emblem of eternity. Perhaps, if left here all unmarred, May live to see our coming Lord. Oh, Forestry, do spare this tree. Christen Hansen.