e revels at Ifako they
welcomed Ma, for it was an honour for a white woman to live in their
midst. But they had no idea of changing their ways of life for her, and
went on day and night drinking rum and gin, dancing, and making
sacrifices to their jujus or gods. Sometimes the din was so great that
Ma never got a wink of sleep. The yard was full of half-naked
slave-women, who were always scolding and quarrelling. Some were wicked
and hateful, and did not want such a good white Ma to be with them, and
tried to force her to leave. But there was one who was kind to her, Eme
Ete, a sister of the chief, who had a sad story. One day she told it to
Ma. She had been married to a chief who had not treated her well. When
he died his followers put the blame on his wives, and they were seized
and brought to trial. It was an odd way they had of testing guilt or
innocence. As each wife stepped forward the head of a fowl was cut off,
and the people watched to see how the body fell. If it lay in a certain
way she was innocent; if in another way, she was guilty! How Eme Ete
trembled when her turn came! When she knew she was safe she fainted.

Eme Ete was big in body and big in heart. To Ma she showed herself
gentle and refined, and acted towards her as a white lady would, caring
for her comfort, watching over her safety, going to her meetings, and
helping her in her work. They grew to be like sisters. Yet Eme Ete was
always a little bit of a mystery to Ma. She wanted the people to change
their old ways, but she herself would not, and went on with her
bush-worship and sacrifices, and never became a Christian. But of all
the native women Ma ever met, there was none she loved so well as this
motherly heathen soul.

In the yard there were also many boys and girls. Ma was fond of
children, but these ones were not nice: they stole and lied and made
themselves a trouble to everybody. "Oh, dear," she sighed, "what can I
do with such bairns?" But she remembered what her Master said, "Suffer
little children to come unto Me and forbid them not"; and she gathered
them about her, took the wee ones in her arms and nursed them, made
clothes for their bodies, and taught them what it was to be clean and
sweet and good. When the sick babies died she would not let the people
throw them away into the bush, as they usually did, but put them into
little boxes on which she laid some flowers, and buried them in a piece
of ground that she chose for a cemetery.