W

E are off for a week's itinerary by saddle among some of our native missions. For the first hundred miles Mrs. Aves is to accompany us, and it is her first experience at mountain climbing.

It is an interesting company that goes clattering through the quiet streets of Nopala in the early morning. There are twenty-five in all; fifteen mounted men, including our two local missionaries, the Rev. Samuel Salinas and the Rev. M. L. Camera, two cargadores, one carrying our baggage and another with the mission organ on his back (this organ travels several thousand miles a year in this way), three native women mounted and one, an Indian, on foot carrying a child, and two mosos, one to lead and another to urge the little white burro on which Mrs. Aves, "la Señora," is riding. Our way leads down through the valley and up the mountain side to Humini, a straggling village of stone, thatch-roofed huts, nine miles away.

We must keep strictly to the trail or the overhanging cactus trees, growing everywhere among the rocks, will be sure to pierce us with their sharp, bristling thorns. But ugly and forbidding as it appears to the stranger, the cactus is of priceless worth to the native. And quite aside from the honor given to it as a part of the Mexican coat-of-arms (in illustration of the fulfilment of the old Aztec prophecy that where the eagle should be seen resting on a cactus tree would be found the promised land), the cactus has a very high claim to our respect. Its tender leaves and the luscious fruit it bears are the staff of life to millions of people who live in the desert wilds that cover two-fifths of Mexico.

Our climbing cavalcade is heralded long before we reach the rocky ledge on which the little church and schoolhouse stand, and there is a great crowd gathered to greet us. Greetings and leave takings, with their repeated brazos, are very solemn and elaborate

ceremonies among the Indian people, and, whatever else may have to wait, they must be punctiliously performed.

A very plainly and poorly-clad people, these; but, other reasons aside, we must respect and admire them for their devoted earnestness, which is evidenced by their works. They have built with their own hands the little stone church, about thirty feet by fifty, and the schoolhouse (of about the same size), standing by its side. Now they are building a home for the teachers. They have a proud and independent spirit, these Otomi people; and it was probably this same spirit which led their forebears to the rocky fastnesses when the foreign conquerors claimed their rich valleys and would have made them slaves.

The occasion of our visit is made especially important by the fact that we are to examine the school; and the buildings are made as festive as green boughs and wild flowers can make them. Although the simple tests in the "three R's" are attended by some fearfulness and weeping, when we reflect that only

six months ago none of these girls, some of whom are sixteen years of age, knew either letters or figures, we must admire their progress. Indeed these Indian girls are both bright and ambitious. And we are reminded that it was from these Otomi people that several of our Hooker Annex girls came, who, during the past four years won a majority of the prizes offered by the government at the National Normal School at Toluca. When we go into the homes of these children and find no single book or paper or picture there, a realizing sense comes to us of the great blessing this school will be to them in making their darkened lives brighter, larger, fuller, better, and in helping them to better opportunities of selfhelp.

Ten years ago two little girls, Amelia and Lenora Bustamente, were taken from this community to be educated at the Mary Josephine Hooker School and Orphanage. They are now the teachers here; and it is to save these two young women a daily walk of eighteen miles

refinement without feeling that the light of good Mrs. Hooker's life is still shining far with a blessed brightness.

Here we must take leave of our escorts, for our following visitations carry us into another field. The missionary, the Rev. G. Melendez, meets us at Lerma with guide, cargador, fresh horses and another burro and moso for "la Señora." We must start early and ride fast, for Tlalmimilolpan, our first stop, is twenty miles away, and Mimiapan, where we are to pass the night, is seven miles beyond.

Though our trail takes us to an elevation of over 11,000 feet, strange to say, Mrs. Aves does not seem to be affected by it. Many of the people come down the mountain side to meet us and to greet us with a kiss on the hand. The little chapel (the people are gathering material with which to build a church) is filled to suffocation with a blanketed, bare-footed, clean and very devout congregation. As the people can understand only their own Aztec language, the sermon must be uttered three times -in English, Spanish and Otomi. Our interpreter and lay-reader here and at Mimiapan, Daniel Andrade, was educated at our Dean Gray School. Here we have a mission school of thirty girls, taught by Elizabeth Andrade, a graduate of the Hooker School. Being a native of the place, Miss Andrade is of special value here by being able to teach in both the Indian and the national tongue.

Among the numerous little gifts which Mrs. Aves took along for the school children were some small mirrors. It is doubtful if many of these little girls had ever seen their own faces before, except perhaps in some tain stream, and the furtive peeps they would take at themselves, with working features, were both pathetic and comical.

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These people are noted for the beautiful blankets they weave. Two years ago when the people of our native church

wished to show to Mrs. Virginia Clark, of Yonkers, N. Y., by some token, their appreciation of her lasting friendship, they decided to send her a native zerapi made by these Tlalmimilolpan Indians.

Our guides thought it would be possible by riding fast to reach Mimiapan before nightfall, but they were mistaken. Knowing their own direct footpaths well, but which are impossible by saddle, they soon lost their trail; and when the darkness fell (there is very little twilight in the mountains) we were wandering and scattered, with chasms between, and unable to understand our guides. But all's well that ends well. After much hallooing and scrambling up and down, we finally got together, struck the bed of a stream, and, by the good sense of our horses, reached Mimiapan before midnight, and found a good supper awaiting us.

SECRETARY SMITH TO BE DEAN OF BOISE

F

OUR years ago the Rev. Everett P. Smith came to the Church Missions House to establish and direct the department of mission study. For a few years after leaving the seminary he was associated with the Rev. Dr. Rufus W. Clark, at St. Paul's, Detroit. Here his chief urged him to give a large part of his time to devising and testing many plans for enlisting people in the definite study of the scope, methods and results of the Church's mission work. Then the desire to do, not simply teach about, mission work sent him into the West, where for several years, at Lewiston and Pocatello, Idaho, he did faithful and constructive work.

Called back from the mission field by the Board of Missions to headquarters, Mr. Smith entered upon the difficult task of creating mission study literature, arousing people to the need of careful and systematic methods, and directing the work of study classes. Four years ago there were very few groups of people in the Church enlisted in systematic study class work. Now there are not only numbers of parish classes, but in some of the larger centres normal classes for the training of teachers are increasing the number of parish leaders. Much useful study material has been provided, not only in the form of textbooks, but in smaller pamphlets and leaflets.

While Mr. Smith was never more deeply convinced than he is at present of the value of mission study, the actual work in the field has always had the strongest attraction for him. Only a few friends have hitherto known that two years ago he volunteered for the China mission, but was prevented from carrying out his purpose by circumstances beyond his control.

Recognizing, as he does, the great importance of constructive work in the newer parts of the country, Mr. Smith felt, when the call to become the dean of St. Michael's Cathedral, Boisé, came

to him recently, that he might rightly hand over to others the work he had done at the Church Missions House and turn his face once more toward Idaho. By Ash Wednesday he hopes to be at work in Boisé.

THE REVEREND RUFUS W. CLARK, D.D.

N°

O clergyman of the Church during recent years has tried more whole-heartedly to advance the Church's mission than the late Rev. Rufus W. Clark, D.D. Always keen to do what he could himself, and to lead his people to a full measure of co-operation with the Board of Missions, he made time also to think about some of the larger questions of missionary administration, especially as they bear upon the ever-present problem of reaching all Church people with the facts about the progress of her mission.

It was he who, in 1901, urged successfully the plan of districting the country and appointing a volunteer secretary for each district. It was he who in 1904 stirred the laymen of Detroit to action which resulted in the starting of the Laymen's Forward Movement of the Middle West. It was he, too, who originated the idea of a diocesan commission, composed of both clergy and laity, and charged with the duty of furthering within the diocese the plans of the Board of Missions. A number of dioceses in the West. now have such commissions.

When the Board of Missions decided to change the existing districts into missionary departments and to appoint. secretaries to give their entire time to some of the departments, Dr. Clark was chosen among the first for this important duty. For three years, at no little sacrifice to himself and of home ties, he travelled widely in the Middle West from Michigan to Montana and from Minnesota to Southern Ohio.

His death at Columbus, O., on January 18th, 1909, came as a great shock to many friends and as a great loss to the Church's missionary enterprise.