Part 7 (1/2)

”You will not! They are mine.”

”Give them back,” shouted the warriors.

Ma's heart beat wildly, but she walked down the ranks of the men, saying, ”Here they are, take them.”

They were so amazed at her courage that they let her pa.s.s, and she went and hid the beans in her house.

During the night Ekpenyong stole off to find more beans. Eme Ete sent Ma a secret message, and she rose and followed him, and coaxed him to take the native oath instead of the ordeal.

After all these wild doings the people came back to a better mind, and began to realise how brave and good Ma was; and at night, when she was alone with her bairns, they slipped in, one by one, and called her their great white mother, and thanked her with tears for all her love and devotion.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CHIEF AND HIS CHILDREN.]

Edem, too, was softened, and the thought of vengeance left his heart. Ma prevailed upon him to allow the chief who had run away to return. Poor Akpo! His village had been burnt to the ground, and all his goats and fowls and goods were lost. But Edem gave him a new piece of land, and seed for food plants.

”Ah, Chief,” said Ma, ”that is the right way; that is the Jesus way.”

”Thank you, Ma.” And he, too, came and knelt before her, and held her feet and poured out his grat.i.tude for all she had done.

”Go on, Ma,” he said, ”and teach us to do away with the bad old bush fas.h.i.+ons. We are weary of them, they bind us like chains, and we need you to help us.”

These words thrilled Ma with happiness, and were a reward for all she had come through; but they made her humble too, for she knew that unless G.o.d had been with her she would not have borne up so long.

Now that she was surer of herself and of that wondrous Power behind her, she grew bolder still, and went wherever trouble threatened. No place was too far for her to reach. Natives in distant parts were often surprised to see her walking into their midst when they were starting to fight. Once a secret message came, saying that two tribes, many miles away, were on the warpath. Ma was ill and weak and in bed, but she rose at once. Edem said, ”Ma, you are going into a wild beast's den, and will not come out alive.”

Night fell as she was tramping along, and she was always nervous of the darkness and the mystery of the forest. The animals frightened her. ”I prayed,” she said, ”that G.o.d would shut their mouths, and He did.” At midnight she reached a village where she hoped to borrow a drum and a freeman to beat it before her as she marched, a sign that one under the protection of Egbo was coming. But the chief, a surly despot, would not see her, and would not give her the drum.

”If there is a war,” his message said, ”a woman is not likely to stop it.”

Back went her reply. ”You think only of the woman. You have forgotten the woman's G.o.d. I go without a drum.”

On she went, and came at last to one of the villages where the trouble was brewing. All was silent and still. Suddenly, out of the darkness swarmed armed men and closed around her and demanded her business.

”I have come to stop the war.”

They jeered at her, such a small, feeble woman, and smiled grimly.

”You won't do that,” they said.

”We shall see. I want to have a palaver and hear the story.”

”All right, Ma,” they replied, humouring her. ”Go to sleep until second c.o.c.k-crow and we shall wake you up and take you with us.” But when she was awakened the band were already away on their errand of death.

”Run, Ma, run and stop them!” cried the women, who feared what would happen; and she rushed breathlessly up and down steep tracks and through streams until she caught up with the warriors, who were making ready to attack and uttering their wild war whoops.

She walked into their midst.

”Don't go on like beardless boys,” she said in scorn. ”Be quiet.”

Then she went on until she came upon the enemy drawn up in line across the path.