when we start."

Mary fixed the young man's hand. Then she laid down in one of the huts for
an hour's sleep. It seemed as though her eyes were hardly shut, before she
heard a voice calling her.

"Ma, they are going to battle. Run, Ma, run!"

The warriors were on the warpath. Mary could hear their wild yells and the
roll of the war drums. Mary ran after them. She was tired from the hard
trip to their village. She was weak from the sickness she had. But nothing
could stop her. She caught up with the warriors just as they were getting
ready to attack an enemy village.

"Behave like men," she yelled, "not like fools. Be quiet now. Do not yell
and shout."

The warriors became silent.

"God says that revenge is wrong," said Mary. "He will pay back wicked
people for the wrong things they do. You should not try to get even. Leave
that to God."

"No, no," said the chief. "If we do not pay back for the wrong done us, the
tribe will not be afraid of us. They will do more bad things to us."

"Yes, yes," shouted the warriors. They kept shouting and shaking their
swords and guns.

"Did the whole village hurt you? Did the whole village shoot the young man?