would have to sleep in the open. It was not easy to be a missionary, but Mary was gladly willing to do it because she was working for Jesus and saving souls.

One day a man came to the mission house.

"I am the servant of King Okon. King Okon has heard of the white Ma. King
Okon has heard how the white Ma loves our people and is kind to them. King
Okon invites the white Ma to come and visit our country."

"I shall be glad to come if I may tell your people about Jesus, the
Saviour," said Mary.

"Sure," said the messenger, "you come and make Jesus-talk."

When King Eyo Honesty VII, Mary's old friend, heard of this invitation, he said:

"Our Ma must not go as an ordinary traveler to this savage land and people. She must go as a lady and our mother, one whom we greatly respect and love."

He brought his own canoe to Mary and said, "The canoe is yours to use as long as you wish."

Mary's eyes filled with tears of thankfulness.

"King Eyo," she said, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I accept the offer of your canoe in Jesus' name. I know God will bless you for your kindness."

"God has blessed me," said the king. "He has sent our white Ma to us."

The canoe was long and slim. It was painted in bright colors. At the front end bright-colored flags were flying. In the middle of the canoe was a sort of tent to protect Mary from the sun. The Christian natives had brought gifts of rice and these were put in the boat. Crowds of people came to say good-by to the white Ma. At last it began to get dark. The thirty-three natives who were going to row climbed into the boat. Torches were lit and the boat started upstream.

As Mary lay down in her tent in the middle of the boat, she heard the rowers singing as they rowed.

"Ma, our beautiful beloved mother, is on board," they sang, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

She thanked God that He had protected her in Old Town. She prayed that He would protect her still as she went into a part of the country where no one had yet brought the news about a loving Saviour. She prayed that He would bless her speaking, so that many people would believe in the Lord Jesus and be saved forever.

As she prayed, the rowers continued singing their made-up song: "Ma, our beautiful beloved mother, is on board. Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Mary fell asleep and the canoe carried her silently through the night to a new part of the country and to new adventures.

When the sun arose the following morning, the canoe carrying Mary Slessor arrived at King Okon's village. A great shout went up from the people when they heard the white Ma had come.

"You have my room," said the chief. "It is the best room in the village."

It may have been the best room, but it was not a very comfortable one. Rats and big lizards were running back and forth across the floor. There were insects and fleas and lice everywhere.

The people were much interested in the white Ma. They had never seen a white woman before. They crowded into the yard. Many of them touched and pinched Mary to see if she were real. Some were afraid. Their friends laughed at them and pulled them into the yard. They watched Mary eat. They watched everything she did. Mary did not care. She used their interest in her to tell them about Jesus who loved them. She told them that they must love Jesus and trust in Him for salvation.

Twice a day she held services and great crowds came to hear her. She cut out clothes for the people and taught the women how to sew. She gave medicine to the sick and bandaged the wounds of those who got hurt.

"King Okon," said Mary, "I would like to go into the people's homes in the jungle. May I go?"

"No, white Ma, I cannot let you go. This is elephant country. The elephants go wild and run over everything in the jungle. These stampedes have been so bad my people have had to leave off farming and make their living by fishing. I cannot let you go. You might get hurt or killed."

One night Mary saw that the people looked very angry. Some were sad.

"What is the matter?" asked Mary.

"Two of the king's young wives have done wrong. They have broken a law," answered one of the natives. "They thought nobody was looking and went into a room where a young man was sleeping. Each of them will be hit a hundred times with a whip."

Mary went to the king. She asked him to be kinder to these girls. She begged him not to beat them so much.

"Ma, you are right," said the king. "I will call palaver of all the chiefs. If you say we must not whip girl, we must listen to you as our guest and Ma. But the people will say God's Word be no good, if it keeps the law from punishing those who do wrong."

Mary saw the king was right. She turned to the girl-wives of the king.

"You have brought shame to the king and the tribe by the silly foolish things you did. God's Word teaches men to be kind and merciful and generous, but it does not pass over sin or permit it. I cannot ask the king not to punish you. Ask God to help you in the future, so that you will not do bad or foolish things."

All the chief men of the tribe grunted their approval of what Mary had said to the girls. But then Mary turned to the chief men and said:

"You are to blame. Your custom of one man marrying many wives is wrong and cruel. These girls are only sixteen years old and still love fun and play. They are too young to be married. They meant no real harm."

The men did not like to hear that. They did not like to hear that their ways were wrong.

"If punishment is hard," said the old men, "wife and slave will be afraid to disobey."

"King Okon," said Mary, "show that you are a good king by being kind and merciful. Don't be too hard on these young girls."

"All right, Ma," said the king, "I will make it only ten blows with the whip. Also we will not rub salt into the wounds to make them sting."

When the whipping was over, Mary took the girls into her room. There she put healing medicine on their backs while she told them about Jesus who could heal their souls.

At last it was time for Mary to go back to Old Town. The king and the people were sorry to see her go. On her homeward way a tropical storm struck the canoe and the people in it. Mary was soaked. The next morning she was shaking with sickness and fever. The rowers feared their white Ma would die. They rowed as fast as they could for Old Town. Mary was so sick that she had to take a long rest.

A few months later a big storm tore off the roof of her house and again she was soaked as she worked to save the children. Again she became very sick.

"You must go home to Scotland," said Daddy Anderson. "You must go home and rest and get well."

"Since you tell me to do that and the Board has ordered it, too, I can only obey," said Mary. "I am going to take my little black Janie with me. It is too dangerous to leave her here where some of the heathen might steal her and kill her because she is a twin."

With a heart that was sad at leaving Calabar, but glad to have a chance to see her dear ones in Scotland again, Mary sailed for Dundee in April, 1883.

#5#

Into the Jungle

"Oh, Mary, it is good to see you again," said Mother Slessor when Mary arrived once more in Scotland. "And this is little Janie about whom you