is God'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.

Ma was vexed, and she was ill and tired. "I am not going to hunt for
them this time," she said quietly. "They must learn to obey the law, and
I will give them a lesson."

So she wrote to the Government at Duke Town, asking them to send up some
one to deal with the matter, and she took the letter herself to the
beach, and dispatched it by a special canoe.

Nothing can be hidden in negroland, and the news of what she had done
soon reached the disobedient people. They came out of the forest in as
great a hurry as they went in, and rushed to the Mission House.

"Where is Ma? We want Ma."

"Ma," said Janie crossly, "is away for the Consul. I hope he will bring
a big gun with him. It's time. You are killing her with your silly
ways."

They went back sorrowful and alarmed, for a big gun meant ruined homes
and crops, and many arrests, and imprisonment down at the coast. When
they saw Ma later, they begged her to ask the Consul to come with
thoughts of peace and not of war.

"Good," she replied, "and we shall have a proper big palaver about all
your bad customs."

When the Government official with his guard of soldiers arrived, he was
amused to find the Queen of Okoyong sitting bareheaded on the roof of
her house repairing a leak. She came down, and they had a palaver with
the chiefs and people, who promised not to do any more killing at
funerals, and not to murder twins.

Ma shrugged her shoulders. "They will promise anything," she told the
officials. "I'll have to keep a close eye on them all the same."

She did; and as they broke their word she brought up the Consul-General
himself, Sir Claude Macdonald. He spoke kindly, but firmly, to the
chiefs.

"The laws are made for your good and safety and peace, and if you do not
obey them you will be punished."

They agreed to all he said. "Sir, when words are spoken once, we don't
mind them; but when they are spoken twice, we obey."

Ma also addressed them, telling of the blessings that would follo