CHAPTER V.

NOT FORSAKEN.

_"For this shall every one that is godly pray unto Thee in a time when Thou mayest be found: surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come nigh unto him."_—Psalm xxxii. 6.

DAVID was still thankfully partaking of the root called Markrohae, when his attention was arrested by the appearance, on the sandy horizon, of a four-footed creature approaching towards him at full speed. He soon distinguished that it was a Springbok, a kind of antelope of the desert, moving rapidly forward in bounds such as perhaps no other quadruped can make. It was coming straight in his direction, and David crouched down low, grasping his spear, and hiding himself as well as he could behind the scraggy bushes. He was surprised to see a solitary individual of a species that generally travels in herds, and still more so that a creature so timid and shy should not have perceived him, so imperfectly concealed as he was, and have started off in some other direction.

The cause for this was soon evident, as David perceived that three wild dogs were in hot pursuit of the Springbok, which they had probably singled out from a herd. The chase must have been a long and severe one, for the antelope was now slackening its speed, and the terrified creature was too much alarmed by the close pursuit behind to take notice of danger in front. Before it could reach the bushes, the foremost dog had pulled it down, and in a few seconds the other two were on their already lifeless prey.

[Illustration: The chase must have been a long and severe one, for the antelope was now slackening its speed.]

Now was the moment for David! With steady aim, he sent his light spear whirling through the air and right amongst the ravenous wolf-like creatures that had just run down their quarry. It glanced from the shoulder of one of the dogs, which uttered a yell of pain. David sprang to his foot, threw up his arms, and shouted!

Whether it was his sudden appearance, or the sound of a human voice, which is said to have such strange power over the beasts of which man was made the lord, it is not needful to decide. The savage creatures did not await the approach of the unarmed youth, but a second shout sent them galloping off with such speed as their already half-exhausted strength would allow, flying from the face of man, and leaving their prey behind them.

"This is indeed wonderful!" murmured David, as he painfully made his way to the spot where the dead antelope lay. "God has made the very beasts of prey provide me food in the desert! 'Thou preparest a table before me.' That is from the twenty-third Psalm. I can no longer say that it is not a Psalm for me. 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.' I will no longer think myself alone. Even after all my guilty wanderings, God has not forsaken me. I will trust Him in life and in death, 'for His mercy endureth for ever.'"

Taking the spear again as his staff, David, with considerable difficulty, dragged the body of the dead Springbok to the small thicket which he had just quitted. He had learned from the Bushmen their way of procuring fire without match, flint, or steel, and now his knowledge stood him in good stead. He first gathered together some leaves, which the fierce sun had made almost as dry as tinder; next he cut two sticks with his knife, making a small notch in the first, and sharpening the point of the second; he then put this point into the notch, and twirled the second stick round between the palms of his hands so rapidly, as to produce sufficient heat to set fire to the little dry heap. He threw on this some withered twigs, and soon a thin cloud of blue smoke curled up in the clear desert air.

David's cooking of a portion of his antelope was of a very rough description, but he sat down to his hastily prepared meal with a very thankful heart. He had always been accustomed at Greenside Farm to hear his father say a grace before dinner, but since leaving England, David had never himself thought of returning thanks to God for his food, until he partook of this meal which Providence had spread for him in the desert. It was no mere cold form now when David Aspinall uttered the words,—

"For these, and 'all' His mercies, the Lord's name be praised!"

David was not only refreshed and strengthened by the food, but he was cheered by the thought that for one night at least he might be able to keep off attacks from wild beasts by lighting a fire. His supply of fuel was indeed very scanty, but then he would use it sparingly. He had not sufficient wood for the morrow, but "why take thought for the morrow?" The God who has amply supplied the need of to-day, would not desert him then.

David found occupation in gathering together materials for his night-fire, and then made up for his short broken rest by a refreshing afternoon sleep.

When the youth awoke, he again partook of food, and relieved his thirst by finishing what he had left of the melon in the morning. Then, reclining on the sand by the heap of dried sticks and leaves which he would light after sunset, David gave himself up to holy thoughts, repeating to himself the thirty-second Psalm, and dwelling upon its meaning verse by verse.

"'For this shall every one that is godly pray unto Thee.'"

David paused that he might try better to understand this passage of Scripture.

"As this Psalm tells of mercy to him 'whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered,' I should have thought that the word would rather have been, 'For this shall every one that is "ungodly" pray unto Thee.' It is only they who want the mercy. But who are the godly, who are the righteous mentioned so often in the Bible? Do we not read in another part,—

"'There is none that doeth good, no, not one'?

"Did not our Saviour Himself say,—

"'There is none good but one, that is God'?

"What is meant, then, by godly, and why should the godly pray because God has mercy on sinners?"

This was a difficult question, and David could not for a long time think of a satisfactory reply. Would not St. Peter be counted "godly?" And yet St. Peter three times denied his Lord. Surely St. Paul was "righteous," yet he had been a persecutor and blasphemer. At length the truth seemed to dawn upon David as the words recurred to his mind,—

"'In the Lord have I righteousness and strength.'"

Surely the "godly" in the sixth verse of the Psalm must be the very same as the "blessed one" mentioned in the first, whose "transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered," who is counted righteous before God, because through faith, he is made a partaker of the spotless righteousness of Christ. It is to such that it is said in the Psalm, "The Lord imputed not iniquity." Yes, the "godly" is not, cannot be the man who has committed "no" sin, for in that case there would be none godly upon earth; but rather he that loveth much, because he hath been much forgiven!

"Now I remember," thought David, "the large picture of the Deluge, which used to hang between the two lattice windows in my dear old room at Greenside, and what my mother said to us about it on one wintry Sunday, when we were almost blocked up by snow."

David sighed heavily as he recalled the bright blaze of the wood-fire, rendered so welcome by the sharp keen air, and how those lattice windows had been all feathery with frost, and the trees without, silvered with frozen dew. To the poor Wanderer, half burnt up by African heat, ice and snow and sharp crisp air seemed the greatest of luxuries.

David went on with his train of thought in reference to the picture of the Deluge. "My dear mother pointed out to us the Ark floating on the surface of the waters, while the rain poured in torrents from the sky, and poor wretches were drowning even on the tops of the highest hills.

"'Mind you, my children,' she said, 'the family of Noah were safe, "not" because they were good swimmers or good sailors, "but" just because they had faith and obedience to make them go into the Ark. That was the place of safety which God had provided, and "no other" was safe. And so Christ is our Ark and our Refuge now. If we are in Him, we are safe; even at the last awful day, the great waters of destruction shall not come nigh us!'"

And what is it to be "in Christ"? Is it not to come to Him as a poor, helpless, perishing sinner, whose only hope is in His mercy? Has He not said of such,—

"'He that cometh unto me I will in nowise cast out'"?

Reader, I ask you not whether you have ever been a wanderer like David, or whether you have led what men may call a blameless life. I ask, have you ever come to Christ; have you given your heart to Him? If so, He is willing, ready to clothe you with His own righteousness, to give you His Spirit to make you holy, and render you, by that Spirit's power, one of the "godly" that pray unto Him!