old friends, her heart homesick, and the hot tears in her eyes, when
the sound of voices and the flash of a lantern made her start up. It
was a deputation from the farm. They had learnt that the native pastor,
the Rev. Esien Ukpabio, at Adiabo--the first native convert in Calabar
--was skilled in this form of disease, and would "Ma" give them a letter
asking him to come over and see the chief? The letter was quickly
given, and she returned to her rest and her memories.

When the native pastor asked what was the matter, the reply was that
"Some one's soul was troubling the chief." "In that case," he said, "I
can do nothing," and no persuasion or bribe could move him from his
position. His sister, however, thought it might be well for her to go
and see what she could do, and he consented. Under her care the abscess
broke and the chief recovered, and all the prisoners were released with
the exception of one woman, who was put to death.

Aware of the uncanny way in which his guest heard of things the chief
sent his son to forestall any tale-bearer. "No one has been injured,"
she was assured. "Only one worthless slave woman has been sold to the
Inokon." As it was the custom to dispose of slaves who were criminals
and incorrigible to this cannibal section of the Aros for food at their
high feasts the story was plausible, but she knew better, and when the
son added that the three children of the victim had been "quite
agreeable," she thought of the misery she had witnessed on their faces.
She pretended to believe the message, however, for to have shown
knowledge of the murder would have been to condemn scores to the poison
ordeal, in order that her informant might be discovered.

When the chief was convalescent it was announced by drum that he would
emerge on a certain day from his filth--for the natives do not wash