om the other side
and stood on one side of her, while the two chiefs chosen in the
village came and threw down their arms and knelt at their feet.

"Your chief," they said, "was wounded by a drunken youth. Do not let
us shed blood through all our villages because of what he did. If
you will cease from war with us, we will pay to you any fine that the
white Ma shall say."

She, too, pressed them to stop their fighting. Word went back to the
warriors on both sides, who became wildly excited. Some agreed, others
stormed and raged till they were in a frenzy. Would they fight even
over her body? Furious warriors came moving up from both sides. But
by arguing and appealing at last she persuaded the warlike tribe to
accept a fine.

_The Promise of Peace_

The town whose drunken youth had wounded the enemy chief at once paid
a part of the fine. They used no money. So the fine was paid in casks
and bottles of trade gin. Mary Slessor trembled. For as the boxes of
gin bottles were brought forward the warriors pranced with excitement
and made ready to get drunk. She knew that this would make them fight
after all. What could she do? The roar of voices rose. She could
not make her own voice heard. A daring idea flashed into her mind.
According to the law of these Egbo people, clothes thrown over
anything give it the protection of your body. She snatched off her
skirt and all the clothing she could spare and spread them over the
gin. She seized the one glass that the tribe had, and doled out
one portion only to each chief to test whether the bottles indeed
contained spirit. At last they grew quieter and she spoke to them.

"I am going," she said, "across the Great Waters to my home, and I
shall be away many moons. Promise me here, on both sides, that you
will not go to war with one another while I am away."

"We promise," they said. They gathered around her and she told them
the story of Jesus Christ in whose name she had come to them.

"Now," she said, "go to your rest and fight no more." And the tribes
kept their promise to her,--so that when she returned they could say,
"It is peace."

* * * * *

For nearly forty years she worked on in Calabar, stricken scores of
times with fever. She rescued her hundreds of twin babies thrown out
to die in the forest, stopped wars and ordeal by poison, made peace,
healed the sick.

At last, too weak to walk, she was wheeled through the forests and
alo