cries of wild animals, the rush of dark objects, the falling of decayed
branches all intensified the weirdness and mystery of the forest gloom.
Even the echo of their own voices as they called aloud to frighten the
beasts of prey struck on their ears with peculiar strangeness.

By and by came an answer to their cries, and a glimmer of light showed
in the darkness. It was the lad with the lantern. As she had surmised,
he had failed in his mission. She moved swiftly to the river, splashed
into the water, and, reaching the canoe, threw back the cover under
which the men were sleeping, and routed them out, dazed and shamefaced.
So skilful, however, was she in managing these dusky giants that in a
short time, weary as they were, they were working good-humouredly at
the boxes. With the assistance of the slaves who came on the scene they
transferred what was needed to Ekenge, and by midnight she felt that
the worst was over.

Sunday did not find her in more cheerful mood. Her tired limbs refused
to move, and wounds she had been unconscious of in the excitement of
the journey made themselves felt, while her feet were in such a state
that for six weeks afterwards she was unable to wear boots. Whether it
was the persistent rain and the mud and the weariness and the squalid
surroundings, or the fact that the tribe she had come to civilise and
evangelise were given over to the service of the devil, or that her
faith had weakened, or whether it was all of these together, her first
Sunday in Okoyong was one of the saddest she ever experienced. More
than once she was on the verge of tears.

And yet she was eager to begin work. Prudence, however, held her back
from visiting the scene of debauchery at Ifako. A few women had come
home with fractious babies, or to procure more food for the revellers,