Part 9 (2/2)

”Ma, the _Smoking Canoe_ is at the beach.”

”Ho-ho! gifts from Makara land,” sang half a dozen throats. ”Oh, Ma, when can we go? Let us go now.”

Ma was as excited as the rest, so off went men, women, and children, streaming along the path to the river, where the _David Williamson_ lay.

As the boxes were usually too heavy to be carried, they were opened up on the beach and the contents made into parcels. These the natives balanced on their heads and went off, a long file of them, through the forest to Ekenge.

Sometimes it needed a second and a third journey before all the goods were together again.

What a delight it was to Ma to open the packages! What cries of rapture came from the children and the people looking on as they saw all the things that were to them so wonderful and beautiful.

There were print garments by the dozens, woollen articles, caps, scarves, handkerchiefs, towels, ribbons and braids, thimbles, needles and pins, beads, b.u.t.tons, reels, spoons, knives, sc.r.a.p-books, picture-books and cards, texts, pens, and a host of other things. It was almost with awe that the women touched the pretty baby-clothes, and the men clapped their hands as Ma held up a blue or scarlet gown or jacket.

The dolls were looked upon as G.o.ds, and Ma would not give them away in case they were wors.h.i.+pped: she kept the prettily dressed ones to teach the women and girls how clothes were made and how they were worn. Some common things, which children at home would not value, they treasured.

When Janie was handed a penwiper, ”Oh, Ma,” she said reproachfully, ”wipe a dirty pen with that? No, no.” And she put it up on the wall as an ornament!

One old woman was given a copy of the picture ”The Light of the World.”

”Oh,” she cried in joy, ”I shall never be lonely any more!”

If you had watched Ma closely when she was opening the packages, you would have seen that she was seeking for something with a quick and impatient eye. When at last she found what she wanted she gave a shout of triumph. Tins of home-made toffee and chocolate! They were always there, for every one knew she liked sweets. When at home she used to ask that these might be sent out, because the bush bairns were fond of them, but her friends just laughed in her face. ”Miss Slessor,” they would say, ”you can eat as many as the bairns!” ”Of course I can,” she confessed.

After the children had looked at all the gifts Ma would tell them where they came from, and would kneel down and thank Jesus for putting it into the hearts of the givers in Scotland to care for His forlorn black folk in Africa.

Then Ma said, ”Away to bed, bairns. But oh, hasn't it been grand? It's just been like a birthday. Many happy returns!”

Ma did not give all the things away. A brilliant gown might go to the chief as a gift--and he would sit proudly in Court with it and be admired and envied by all,--or a flannelette garment to some poor and aged woman to keep her warm during the s.h.i.+very fog season; but as a rule Ma liked the people to work for what they got, or to pay something for them. Thus she taught them to want clothes and other things, and showed them how to get them, and in this way she was a real Empire builder. She used to say that there was no truer or more successful Empire maker than the missionary.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OPENING ONE OF THE BOXES FROM SCOTLAND.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MA'S HOUSE AT AKPAP.]

CHAPTER VI

How the Queen of Okoyong brought a high British official to talk to the people; how she left her nice home and went to live in a little shed; how she buried a chief at midnight; how she took four black girls to Scotland, and afterwards spent three very lonely years in the forest.

The tribes in some of the out-of-the-way places were apt to forget that British law was now the law of the land, and go back to the old habits that were so deep-rooted in their nature. Ma often threatened that she would have to make them feel the power that stood behind her. Once, when the land of a widow was stolen, she asked the people whether they would have the case judged by G.o.d's law or by the Consul and a gun? After a while they said, ”Iko Abasi--G.o.d's word.”

Ma opened her Bible and read: ”Thou shalt not remove thy neighbour's landmark--that is G.o.d's law”; and the land was returned to the woman.

Then a chief died, and the blame was laid on one who was innocent. As a tornado was blowing, Ma could not visit the district, but she sent a message:

”I'll come and see about it when the rain goes off.”

”Oh, yes,” the people grumbled, ”and when she comes she won't allow us to give the prisoners the bean. Let us take away the man and hide him.”

And they hurried him to a spot deep in the forest beyond her reach.

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