Chapter 23: Two Brave Colporteurs

ABOUT the end of 1919 two of our Brazilian colporteurs, an ex-soldier and an ex-sailor, set out from Maceio on a long and perilous trip through a region of Northern Brazil which has hitherto been as much a closed door to the Gospel as Tibet or Arabia, and quite as dangerous.
They traveled on foot, driving two animals before them laden with Gospels and tracts. Their course lay due northwest from that city, and across the further ends of two States into a remote corner of the State of Ceará, the main objective of their journey.
The first two or three hundred miles were traversed without any very noteworthy happenings, apart from the many little incidents — bitter and sweet — inseparable from this mode of travel.
In every town and village a house-to-house canvass was made with Gospels, and fifty were sold here, a hundred there, a hundred and fifty in another place proving about highwater mark; after which a free distribution of good attractive. Gospel tracts was made in the same thorough manner. On the whole the people proved well disposed, and there was very little opposition until the town of Triumph was reached.
Dividing the town between them, Valentino and Antao began to work without delay. In the section allotted to the ex-soldier was a large open-air market and in a very short time he had disposed of a large number of Gospels, mainly among the good-natured country folk who came to the city to sell their farm produce. Suddenly the priest appeared on the scene; and, snatching a book out of Valentino’s hand, with a very loud voice began to denounce him as an enemy of the Church and a hater of God and the Virgin — a veritable anti-Christ “Here, take your book back and give me my money again!” cried one man, as the crowd began to gather. “And mine!” was angrily demanded by one after another as they flung the beautiful but now despised and hated books at his feet.
Meanwhile the priest was working up his hearers into a state of fury. He refused to allow Valentino a hearing. “This man has come here to insult me, your priest, and our Holy Church and religion,” he bellowed, “and to deceive you with his false books!”
The crowd increased every moment, and began to press in on our brave worker in a threatening manner.
“Lynch him!” cried one, with the evident approval of the priest; and then followed a storm of execration from the crowd, who surged towards him; and without doubt he would have been torn to pieces if he had not suddenly bent low, and, with his small bag under his arm, dived right through the legs of the people until, strong of arm and body, he emerged on the safe side of his enemies. Confusion followed. The man had disappeared; and some minutes passed ere the “heretic” was located again.
Continuing his work, the colporteur entered a big shop and offered his Gospels. The owner refused in a friendly way, saying that he had already purchased a copy from the other worker; but he kindly invited Valentino to take a cup of coffee with him behind the counter. This proved God’s second means of saving his life that day, for just at that moment the priest appeared at the door at the head of a huge crowd bent on murder.
“Death to the Protestant Blind him! Burn him!” they screamed.
“What does all this mean?” exclaimed the owner of the shop, turning to Valentino.
“Oh,” replied the colporteur, calmly sipping his coffee, “they want to kill me for selling these Gospels.”
The priest demanded the victim to be handed over. The man refused; and then followed a stiff struggle, as the furious men tried to swarm over the counter, urged on by their priest. It was hot work, as the new friend and his shop assistants repelled the assailants, rolling them back over the counter, one over the other.
Then, just in time, the chief of the police came running up with six armed soldiers; and in a few minutes our man was safe.
He was presently joined by his comrade; but as the crowd still wore a threatening aspect the six soldiers escorted them to their hired house, and mounted guard over them until they were safely out of the city early next morning.
In the meantime a number of people gathered round the house, as near as the soldiers would permit, just to gaze and gaze at this terrible man — half devil, they thought he must be. They pointed him out to each newcomer, much in the same way as a small boy in the Zoo calls his chum’s attention to some very dangerous reptile. Valentino smiled and stood of, that they might see him better and take stock that he did not possess a cloven foot, as many had been led to expect. Then, the soldiers between, he began to preach to his enemies, and proclaimed the of the Gospel to at least a few not unwilling ears on a large group of better-class inhabitants visited the house, and strongly expressed their disgust with the priest’s behavior, thus making way for an interesting and profitable conversation, which resulted in the sale of quite a few Gospels.
Since this occasion we have made a second attempt to sow the seed in this city, when many Bibles and Testaments were sold, and the inhabitants seemed well disposed to the truth.
Proceeding on their way through many towns and villages, our sowers found that as they approached the main objective of the journey things grew hotter.
They were repeatedly warned by friend and foe not to proceed to Joazeiro, the headquarters of a very notorious priest who wields immense power over all the surrounding country; and, credited with miraculous and healing virtues, is practically worshipped by thousands as a saint of the first magnitude. Groups of pilgrims daily wend their way along all paths leading to this “Satan’s Seat,” and all classes seem under the spell.
It so happened that in one place they had met a Turk, a believer in the Gospel, who urged the colporteurs not to proceed; but Valentino had replied, as to all such advice, “He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap.” He had then given them a letter of introduction to a countryman of his living in the terrible city.
On they traveled, footsore and weary, after five hundred miles over rough mountainous roads; but were neither discouraged nor fearful, in spite of alt the warnings.
On entering the city of Joazeiro they found it to be a big collection of poverty-stricken houses and huts, with about twenty thousand inhabitants. An atmosphere of superstition, squalor, and crime seemed to permeate the place. Everybody was expecting them, and people turned out of their houses to stare at them and cross themselves as though a plague were passing their doors.
“There they are — the devils we have heard about! They have dated to visit this holy city!” and they were scowled upon by young and old.
They soon found the residence of the Turk; and judge of their astonishment when they discovered they were talking to no less a personage than the commander-in-chief of the priest’s forces — forces which had routed the trained Government troops more than once — and the director of his master’s band of hired assassins.
“That scoundrel,” said the Turk, pointing out an evil-looking man, “is one of them, and has twenty murders to his credit.”
Strange to say, this terrible Turk received our men kindly, and offered them not only hospitality, but, what was more to the point, protection; for, as he remarked, “You cannot trust any of these people — they are a lot of dogs.” He even showed some sympathy towards the little books, listened well to all our men had to say, and at their request took them next day to see the priest himself.
This dangerous man, called Father Cicero, proved to be quite the fanatical tyrant they had expected. He foamed against the Gospels till nearly hoarse; and only the presence of the Turk, who is greatly feared, saved them from the hands of this priest and the big crowd of pilgrims and beggars who continually throng the place.
The interview ended with a very sinister warning not to attempt to sell or give their books to anybody. However, they managed to give away a few Gospels 10 people who begged for them; and just about as secretly early next morning they left this miserable place behind them and commenced the homeward march.
City by city, village by village, they continued their work and testimony; and on until the end, by God’s overruling providences and by His angel guards, our valiant colporteurs were saved from the lions’ mouths, not once nor twice; nor suffered a single physical injury during the three months of hard travel.
In the face of all the facts related, and others of lesser moment, Valentino and his companion, the ex-sailor lad Antao, succeeded in selling and distributing two thousand Gospels, besides thousands of tracts, in a region where the Good News had never entered before.