Surely God had made a mistake in going to Okoyong in such a guise? And
yet He often chooses the weakest things of this world to confound and
defeat the mighty.

The village was reached at last, but instead of the noise and confusion
that form a bush welcome there was absolute stillness. Mary called out
and two slaves appeared. They stated that the chief's mother at Ifako
had died that morning, and all the people had gone to the carnival. One
obtained fire and a little water, while the other made off to carry the
news that the white woman had arrived. She undressed the children and
hushed them to sleep, and sat in her wet garments and waited. When Mr.
Bishop appeared it was to say that the men were exhausted and refused
to bring up anything that night. A woman of weaker fibre and feebler
faith would have been in despair: Mary acted with her usual decision.
The glow of the fire was cheerful and the singing of the kettle
tempting, but the morrow was Sunday, there was no food, the children
were naked, and she herself wet to the skin. She gave one of the lads
who had arrived with Mr. Bishop a lantern, and despatched him to the
beach with a peremptory message that the mea must come at once and
bring what they could. But knowing their character she asked Mr. Bishop
to collect some of the slaves who had been left to watch the farms, and
send them after her as carriers, and then, bootless and hatless, she
plunged back into the forest.

She had not gone far before one of the other lads came running after
her to keep her company; a touch of chivalry which, pleased and
comforted her. So dense was the darkness that she often lost sight of
her companion's white clothes, and was constantly stumbling and
falling. The shrilling of the insects, the pulsation of the fire-flies,
the screams of the night-birds and the flapping of their wings, the