surprise he kneeled down in front of her.

"Ma," he said, "we thank you for coming. It is true we shot the young man,
the young chief of those who have come to fight us. But it was one man who
did it. The whole village was not at fault. Please make peace. Tell us what
we must do."

Mary looked into the face of the chief. It was Chief Okurike. Long ago she
had made a hard trip through the jungle in pouring rain to help when he was
deathly sick. Because of what she had done then, he was now at her feet
asking her to make peace. Mary shook hands with Chief Okurike. Then she
spoke to his warriors.

"Stay where you are," she said. "Some of you find a place where I can sit
in comfort. I am hungry. Bring me breakfast. I will not starve while men
fight."

The warriors did as she told them.

"Now," she said, "choose two or three men to speak for you. We shall have a
palaver. In that way we will settle this thing."

The four men met and talked with one another while Mary ate breakfast.

"Why do you want to fight and kill because one drunken man wounded your
young chief?" Mary asked the men from the fighting tribe. "Let the tribe
of the drunken youth pay a fine."

A long talk followed. Sometimes it became very exciting. The arguing grew
loud. The father of the young man wanted to have the man who had shot him