The following writers were personal friends of Dave and Ruth Hunt before being martyred by the Auca Indians. Ed McCully was Dave's best friend:
Ah, tolerant generation, who pays the prophets and fondles them who are sent unto you...woe. Cursed be your Judas embrace. Damned be your friendliness...it lays shattering condemnation on your prophets....Damned be this cool tepidity....Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Make me a fork [in the road], that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me.
I stood by the bed of an 18-year-old Indian boy in the eastern jungle. I watched him vomit blood and...die. As I stood looking at his lifeless form lying on bamboo sticks on the dirt floor of the hut, I was to realize more fully what Paul meant in 1st Thessalonians five: "Ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope." I will not forget the screaming-chanting wail of these heathen folk as they beat their breasts and mourned for two days and nights. It was a pathetic picture of "no hope." Tonight I pray...that God will spare the lives of these Indians until He enables us to bring them the message of hope, of eternal life, of salvation in their own language.
I am longing now to reach the Aucas if God gives me the honor of proclaiming the NAME among them....I would gladly give my life for that tribe if only to see an assembly of those proud, clever, smart people gathering around a table to honor the Son—gladly, gladly, gladly! What more could be given to life?