The light was fading ere they reached the landing beach for Ekenge, and
there was yet the journey of four miles through the dripping forest to
be overtaken. It was decided that she should go on ahead with the
children in order to get them food and put them to sleep, and that Mr.
Bishop and one or two men should follow with dry clothes, cooking
utensils, and the door and window needed for the hut, whilst the
carriers would come on later with the loads. As Mary faced the forest,
now dark and mysterious, and filled with the noises of night, a feeling
of helplessness and fear came over her. What unseen perils might she
not meet? What would she find at the end? How would she be received on
this occasion? Would the natives be fighting or drinking or dancing?
Her heart played the coward; she felt a desire to turn and flee. But
she remembered that never in her life had God failed her, not once had
there been cause to doubt the reality of His guidance and care. Still
the shrinking was there; she could not even move her lips in prayer;
she could only look up and utter inwardly one appealing word, "Father!"

Surely no stranger procession had footed it through the African forest.
First came a boy, about eleven years of age, tired and afraid, a box
containing tea, sugar, and bread upon his head, his garments, soaked
with the rain, clinging to his body, his feet slipping in the black
mud. Behind him was another boy, eight years old, in tears, bearing a
kettle and pots. With these a little fellow of three, weeping loudly,
tried hard to keep up, and close at his heels trotted a maiden of five,
also shaken with sobs. Their white mother formed the rear. On one arm
was slung a bundle, and astride her shoulders sat a baby girl, no light
burden, so that she had to pull herself along with the aid of branches
and twigs. She was singing nonsense--snatches to lighten the way for
the little ones, but the tears were perilously near her own eyes. Had
ever such a company marched out against the entrenched forces of evil?