er." It was prayer and hard work and
gumption. At last the ship was launched, steam was up, the _Peace_
began to move. "She lives, master, she lives!" shouted the excited
Africans.

A thousand thrilling adventures came to him as he steamed up and
down the river, teaching and preaching, often in the face of
poisoned arrows and spears. We are now going to hear the story of one
adventure.

_The Steamer's Journey_

The crocodiles drowsily dosing in the slime of the Congo river bank
stirred uneasily as a strange sound broke the silence of the blazing
African morning. They lifted their heavy jaws and swung their heads
down stream. Their beady eyes caught sight of a Thing mightier than a
thousand crocodiles. It was pushing its way slowly up stream.

The sound was the throb of the screw of the steamer from whose funnel
a light ribbon of smoke floated across the river. An awning shaded the
whole deck from bow to stern. On the top of the awning, under a little
square canopy, stood a tall young negro; the muscles in his sturdy
arms and his broad shoulders rippled under his dark skin as the wheel
swung round in his swift, strong hands.

The steamer drove up stream while the crocodiles, startled by the wash
of the boat, slid sullenly down the bank and dived.

A short, bearded man, dressed in white duck, stood on deck at the
bows, where the steamer's name, _Peace_, was painted. He was George
Grenfell. His keen eyes gleamed through the spectacles that rested on
his strong, arched nose. By his side stood his wife, looking out up
the river. They were searching for the landing-place and the hut-roofs
of some friendly river-side town.

At last as the bows swung round the next bend in the river they saw
a village. The Africans rushed to the bank and hurriedly pushed out
their tree-trunk canoes. Grenfell shouted an order. A bell rang. The
screw stopped and the steamer lay-to while he climbed down into the
ship's canoe and was paddled ashore. The wondering people pushed and
jostled around them to see this strange man with his white face.

_The Slave Girls_

As they walked up among the huts, speaking with the men of the town,
Grenfell came to an open space. As his quick eyes looked about he saw
two little girls standing bound with cords. They were tethered
like goats to a stake. Their little faces and round eyes looked all
forlorn. Even the wonder of the strange bearded white man hardly kept
back the tears that filled their eyes