Paul Naarendorp, a capable brother then in his early 20’s, recalls how he traveled by motorbike. “I had a cot clasped between my legs and my suitcase, literature bag, and other belongings at the back. But when I got married in 1963, my freight doubled​—now it was two cots, a bigger suitcase, two witness bags, and, of course, my wife!” Yet, he adds: “Those were happy times.”

“Are There Any Snakes Here?”

Visiting isolated publishers was one of the moving experiences these young pioneers had. Let us follow Paul Naarendorp as he traveled with Richenel Linger, a poor fisherman then in his 60’s, who lived in a hut near the Atlantic Coast.

Though normally alone, Brother Linger made a preaching trip each week. This time, Paul accompanied him. They started at three o’clock in the morning, paddled upstream for three hours to an Amerindian village, and preached for the whole day. By seven o’clock in the evening, they were back home. Two hours later, they had their first warm meal of the day, and how satisfying that was!

But Paul, the city boy, worried. “Are there any snakes here?” he asked. “Well, a few,” replied Brother Linger calmly, “mostly sakasnekis [tropical rattlesnakes].” Paul gasped, “That snake’s bite is deadly.” “Last week there was one,” Brother Linger continued while pointing to the thatched roof just above Paul’s head. “I was eating when I saw him. I said to myself, ‘Stay put, and I’ll teach you a lesson.’ After I finished eating and did the dishes, I killed him with a cutlass. He was that long,” he added, holding his hands four feet apart [1.2 m]. Paul gasped again.

Brother Linger, though, did not intend to scare his visitor. For him it was an ordinary fact of life. “That night,” recalls Paul, “I curled my feet under my body, pulled a blanket over my head, and prayed long to Jehovah before falling asleep.”