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T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
August, 1936
GOLD in Mongolia B y HULDA E. WIKLUND A s told to Mildred M. Cook o f activity. Suddenly the meaning of it all dawned on the startled child. There was to be a wedding! All the prepara tions had been made. And, standing there on that little rise o f ground, and seeing the women relatives all rush forth to meet her, Gachitma realized something else: She was to be the bride. She had never met the man that she was being forced to marry. Gripped with terror at the thought, she would have run away— but where, in the desert, can one escape without detection? Moreover, the company o f women was coming nearer. They were surrounding her. They were urging her, pushing her, leading her onward to the group o f tents. Into her own maiden tent she went—and she knew what that meant. There would be one more night at “ home” ; her girl friends would join her, and they would pass the night together—a night o f weeping and bitter anguish. B eginning a L ife of S uffering Before daybreak, on swiftly galloping steeds, men drove into the little tent-village to capture the quivering girl who was to be the wife o f one o f them. These rough horsemen were acting in obedience to Mongolia’s hoary tradition which demands that a man, when he chooses to marry, shall swoop down like a mighty conqueror upon the girl o f his choice, and despite all protests, shall bear her away to the tent o f his parents where she will serve as little more than a slave. Gachitma found that her bridegroom was an elderly man who already had divorced five or six wives,, and who was a habitual and cruel drunkard. Life with him was a nightmare o f pain and loathing. In his drunken frenzy, the man would often pull off his heavy boots and hurl them at his girl-wife, and her frail body bore continually the marks o f his brutality. The suffering continued year after year. Ten times Gachitma became a mother, and as many times the child that she clasped lovingly to her breast would weaken and die within three or four weeks. B urying H er B abies It is a rule in Mongolia that when a child dies, some member o f the household shall take the little body, sew it
P reach the gospel— except in Mongolia.” Words like these never fell from the lips o f the Saviour and Master o f men; yet this has been the interpretation, seem ingly, that the church o f Jesus Christ has given to the Great Commission for many generations. Mongolia, that vast territory comprising 1,375,000 square miles and stretching away to the north o f China, is a neglected land. T o reach with the gospel the five million nomadic popula tion, there are at the present time only twelve missionaries at work! For seventeen years, God has privileged me to be one o f those twelve heralds o f the cross. I have followed Him as He has led the way across Mongolia’s desert stretches, in quest o f souls. I have lived in Mongol tents, accepting the natives’ coarse fare—and have marveled as I have seen one and another grow intent as the Saviour has spoken to hearts. And I have come away with this truth burning in my heart like a fire that cannot be quenched: There are precious souls in Mongolia that the gospel o f the grace of God can transform. I could prove the statement with unnumbered illustrations, were proof needed. But let me speak of just one woman, for in the life story o f this beloved sister in Christ there is gathered in amazing compactness the horrors o f heathenism and the glory of Christ’s regenerating and uplifting power. It is the account o f the discovery o f gold— the precious gold o f Christian character, that was worthy to be refined. A B ride - to -B e
up in a sack, take it to a place where two paths cross, and abandon it there. Then, the first person who comes along the path must cut the sack and set the body free. In Gachitma’s tent, she was the only one who cared enough to perform these burial rites. Ten times, in the dusk o f the evening or in the blush o f early dawn, Gachitma had taken her precious burden— in each case a son or a daughter—and in the prescribed manner, had borne it away. She had gone alone on these sad journeys, her heart breaking— for the true mother heart is the same the world over. A mother, a tiny corpse, a wild Mongolian dog— these
When Gachitma was sixteen years o f age, she was told by her family that she was to leave the home tent site, and go off across the desert plain a little distance to visit relatives. She went, unsuspecting. After three or four weeks, she was •bidden to return, and still in ichildlike innocence, she obeyed. At the .crest of the little hill that overlooked the group of tents that made up her native “ village,” Gachitma stopped short in horror and perplexity. Everything was changed ! New tents—many new tents—were pitched alongside the old ones. Everywhere there was a buzz
(Upper left) A Mongolian girl— without Christ. (Center) A Christian family in Mongolia. The husband is an evangelist, and the young woman was formerly one of Miss Wiklund's schoolgirls.
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