(after about five years on the island of tanna in the new hebrides islands just off australia, patton having lost his wife and baby son to disease and death and endured constant threats of death was finally force off the island. at this time he toured through parts of australia to share the mission with the believers there. many times God was with him. below he relates the final story of this time.)
the crowning adventure of my tour came about in the following manner. i was advertised to conduct services at narracoort on sabbath and at a station on the way on saturday evening. but how to get from penola was a terrible perplexity. on saturday morning, however, a young lady offered me, out of gratitude for blessings received, the use of her riding horse for the journey. 'garibaldi' was his name; and, though bred for a race-horse, i was assured that if i kept him firmly in hand, he would easily carry me over the two and twenty miles. he was to be left at the journey's end and the lady herself would fetch him back. i shrank from the undertaking, knowing little of horses and having vague recollections of being dreadfully punished for more than a week after my last and almost only ride. but everyone in that country is quite at ease on the back of a horse. they saw no risk; and, as there appeared no other way of getting there to fulfil my engagements, i, for my part began to think that God had unexpectedly provided the means and that he would carry me safely through.
i accepted the lady's kind offer and started on my pilgrimage. a friend showed me the road and gave me ample directions. in the bush, i was to keep my eye on the notches in the trees and follow them. he agreed kindly to bring my luggage to the station and leave it there for me by and bye. after i had walked very quietly for some distance, three gentlemen on horseback overtook me. we entered into conversation. they inquired how far i was going, and advised me to sit a little 'freer' in the saddle, as it would be so much easier for me. they seemed greatly amused at my awkward riding. dark clouds were now gathering ahead and the atmosphere prophesied a severe storm; therefore they urged that i should ride a little faster, as they, for a considerable distance, could guide me on the right way. i explained to them my plight through inexperience, said that i could only creep on slowly with safety and bade them good bye. as the sky was getting darker every minute, they consented, wishing me a safe journey and started off at a smart pace.
i struggled to hold in my horse; but seizing the bit with his teeth, laying back his ears and stretching out his eager neck, he manifestly felt that his honour was at stake; and in less time than i take to write it, the tree friends cleared a way for us and he tore past them all at an appalling speed. they tried for a time to keep within reach of us, but that sound only put fire into his blood; and in an incredibly short time i heard them not; nor, from the moment that he bore me swinging past them durst i turn my head by one inch to look for them again. in vain i tried to hold him in; he tore on, with what appeared to me the speed of the wind. then the thunderstorm broke around us, with flash of lightning and flood of rain and at every fresh peal my garibaldi' dashed more wildly onward.
to me, it was a vast surprise to discover that i could sit more easily on this wild flying thing, than when at a canter or a trot. at every turn i expected that he would dash himself and me against the great forest trees; but instinct rather than my had guided him miraculously. sometimes i had a glimpse of the road, but as for the notches'. i never saw one of them; we passed them with lightning speed. indeed, i durst not lift my eyes for one moment from watching the horse's head and the trees on our track. my high-crowned hat was now drenched and battered out of shape; for whenever we came to a rather clear space, i seized the chance and gave it another knock down over my head. i was spattered and covered with mud and mire.
crash, crash, went the thunder, and on, on, went 'garibaldi' through the gloom of the forest, emerging at length upon a clearer ground with a more visible pathway. reaching the top of the slope, a large house stood out far in front of us to the left; and the horse had apparently determined to make straight for that, as if it were his home. he skirted along the hill, and took the track as his won familiar ground, all my effort to hold him in or guide him having no more effect than that of a child. by this time, i suspect, i really had lost all power. 'garibaldi' had been at that house, probably, frequently before; he knew those stables; and my fate seemed to be instant death against door or wall.
some members of the family, on the outlook for the Missionary, saw us come tearing along as if mad or drunk; and now all rushed to the verandah, expecting some dread catastrophe. a tall and stout young groom, amazed at our wild career, throwing wide open the gate, seized the bridle at great risk to himself and ran full speed, yet holding back with all his might and shouting at me to do the same. we succeeded - 'garibaldi' having probably attained his purpose - in bringing him to a halt within a few paces of the door. staring at me with open mouth, the man exclaimed, 'i have saved your life. what madness to ride like that?' thanking him, though i could scarcely by this time articulate a word, i told him that the horse had run away and that i had lost all control.
truly i was in a sorry plight, drenched, covered with mud, and my hat battered down over my eyes; little wonder they thought me drunk or mad? finally, as if to confirm every suspicion and amuse them all, - for master, mistress, governess, and children now looked on from the verandah, - when i was helped off the horse, i could not stand on my feet? my head still went rushing on in the race; i staggered and down i tumbled into the mud, feeling chagrin and mortification; yet there i had to sit for some time, before i recovered myself, so as either to rise or to speak a word. when i did get to my feet, i had to stand holding by the verandah for some time, my head still rushing on in the race. at length the master said, 'will you not come in?'
i knew that he was treating me for a drunken man; and the giddiness was so dreadful still, that my attempts at speech seemed more drunken than even my gait.
as soon as i could stand, i went into the house and drew near to as excellent fire in my dripping clothes. the squatter sat opposite me in silence, reading the newspapers and taking a look at me now and again over his spectacles. by and bye he remarked, 'wouldn't it be worth while to change your clothes?'
speech was now returning to me. i replied, 'yes, but my bag is coming on in the cart and may not be here tonight'.
he began to relent. he took me into a room and laid out for me a suit of his own. i being then very slender and he a big-framed farmer, my new dress, though greatly adding to my comfort, enhanced the singularity of my appearance.
returning to him, washed and dressed, i inquired if he had arranged for a meeting? my tongue, i fear, was still unsteady, for the squatter looked at me rather reproachfully and said, 'do you really consider yourself fit to appear before a meeting tonight?'
i assured him that he was quite wrong in his suspicions, that i was a life-long Abstainer and that my nerves had been so unhinged by the terrible ride and runaway horse. he smiled rather suggestively and said we would see how i felt after tea.
we went to the table. all that had occurred was now consummated by my appearing in the lusty farmer's clothes; and the lady and other friends had infinite difficulty in keeping their amusement within decent bounds. i again took speech in hand, but i suspect my words had still the thickness of the tippler's utterance, for they seemed not to carry much conviction. 'dear friends, i quite understand your feelings; appearances are so strangely against me. but i am not drunken, as ye suppose. i have tasted no intoxicating drink, i am a life-long Total Abstainer!'
this fairly broke down their reserve. they laughed aloud, looking at each other and at me, as if to say, 'man, you're drunk at this very moment'.
before tea was over they appeared, however, to begin to entertain the idea that i might address the meeting; and so i was informed of the arrangements that had been made. at the meeting, my incredulous friends became very deeply interested. manifestly their better thoughts were gaining the ascendancy. and they heaped thereafter every kindness upon me, as if to make amends for harder suspicions.
next morning the master drove me about ten miles further on to the church. a groom rode the race-horse, who took no scathe from his thundering gallop of the day before. it left deeper traces upon me. i got through the services, however, and with good returns for the mission. twice since, on my mission tours, i have found myself at the same memorable house; and on each occasion, a large company of friends were regaled by the good lady thaere with very comical descriptions of my first arrival at her door.
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