r, which shot out from the side.

"Sorry, Ma," said the man in it. "I have been waiting for you many days.
My master at Akani Obi wants to speak with you."

The canoe was turned, and followed by the other into a creek that was
fairylike in its tender beauty, and came to a beach where stood a
nice-looking, well-dressed native and his wife. They took her into their
home, which was furnished like a European one.

"I am Onoyom," said the man. "When I was a little slave-boy, one of your
white missionaries explored as far as this. All the people fled. I was
not afraid, and I took him to the chief. I was punished afterwards. When
I grew up I went to the cannibal feasts at Arochuku. My master died, and
ten little girls were killed and placed in his grave. I became steward
of the House, and ruled as chief. My house was burned down, and my child
died. I thought some enemy had done it, and I wanted to murder people. I
met a man who had been a teacher, and he said, 'Perhaps God is angry
with you.' I said, 'I want to find this God.' He said, 'Go to the White
Ma and she will help you.' I took a canoe to find you. I missed you. I
left a man to wait, and he has brought you. Now, will you tell me what
to do?"

As she listened Ma's eyes grew bright with joy. She talked with him and
his household, telling them of Jesus and His Gospel, and praying with
them, and promised to come and begin a school and church. Then they made
her a cup of tea, and went with her to the beach.

As her canoe skimmed over the quiet water again, darkness fell, and a
rain-storm came on and Ma was drenched, but she did not care; she sang
aloud in her blitheness of heart, for after ages of darkness and
wickedness the sunlight of God was beginning to shine in the Creek.

After that what a life she led! She was always moving up and down the
Creek, visiting strange places and camping anywhere. Sometimes she had
to sleep in the open air, or in huts on the floor, or in the canoe;
sometimes she was caught in tornadoes and soaked to the skin; sometimes
she was not able to wash for many days; sometimes she ran out of stores
and lived on native plant-food and tea made in old milk tins. She was
often ill, full of aches and pains and burning with fever; but even
when she was suffering she never lost her happy spirit and her bright
laugh. She was like a white spirit fluttering hither and thither, a
symbol of the new life that was stirring in the land. The people were
risi