Off on Camp

Well I'm heading off on a camp tomorrow and one of things I'm doing is giving the 'campfire' talks which will be evangelistic in nature. I'm copying something that was done on NQ Xtreme and using Jungle doctor stories. As I finalised my preparation I came across one I hadn't read before and thought it apt and consistent with some of my thoughts of living in the world but not being of it.

Nyani pressed his thumb against the limb of the buyu tree and again a dudu (lice) died.

The grandfather of many monkeys was filled with scorching anger. He chattered long and loudly as he climbed through the limbs of his favorite buyu tree.

He swung from a limb and confided his troubles to the ear of Twiga the giraffe.

"O Twiga, there are dudus of the baser sort in this buyu tree. Everyone has fleas; ticks are irritating but at least respectable. But lice!--NO!"

Nyani shuddered delicately, wrinkled his nose and scratched vigorously at the very thought.

Twiga listened with no little sympathy, moistening his lips with his long black tongue.

"No doubt the resting of vultures on the limbs of your family tree will account for this unhappy circumstance," he ventured.

Nyani flew into a rage and leaped from limb to limb.

That bird of disgusting ways, that eater of carrion, that, that, that..."

Words failed him.

He trailed off into high-pitched chatter.

Twiga twisted her long tongue gently over the irritable tip of his black nose and remarked mildly, "Should you act with firmness, Nyani, it is unlikely that vulture will light on your buyu tree."

Nyani listened with interest and scratched with decorum.

Twiga went on.

You cannot stop vultures flying over your buyu tree but you can stop them from roosting there."

Nyani thought for a time and the matter became clear to his monkey intelligence. Immediately he set about collecting stones to be kept in the hollow limb for use in such an emergency.

Daudi threw some sticks on the campfire. A shower of sparks lit up the faces of his listeners.

"Koh," said Daudi's listeners, "this, great one, is a riddle of depth." The dispenser waved his finger at them.

"You can't stop them flying over. You can stop them from roosting," he prompted.

A whispering went on, barely louder than the song of the cricket, and then one laughed.

The answer, great one, is this. For Shaitan (Satan) the devil to whisper in your ear is not sin, but to stop and listen is a different matter."

Daudi nodded slowly. "Truly, temptation isn't sin. You can't stop Shaitan (Satan) the devil's voice from reaching your ears, but to take notice of what he suggests and do it--that is sin.

Look at God's words for yourself. The letter that James wrote, chapter one, verse 12 (James 1:12) and those that follow."

M'gogo murmured the reference over and over. At first light in the morning he would read it in his new Book.

As the sun came over the baobabs, he read:

"Each man is tempted when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed. Then the lust, when it hath conceived, beareth sin, and the sin, when it is full grown, bringeth forth death."