“You are going to a fighting tribe,” said the chief.  “They will not listen to what a woman says.  You had better go back.  I will not protect you.”

“You don’t think a woman can do much.  Maybe you are right,” said Mary to the chief.  “But you forget what the woman’s God can do.  He can do anything.  I shall go on.”

Mary went on into the darkness.  The natives watched her go.  She must be crazy, they thought.  She had talked back to their chief who had the power to kill her.  She had walked on into a jungle where wild leopards were ready to jump on her.  She was going where men were drinking and making themselves wild.  But Mary was not afraid.  Once in talking about her trips through the jungle Mary said, “My great help and comfort was prayer.  I did not used to believe the story of Daniel in the lions’ den until I had to take some of those awful marches through the jungle.  Then I knew it was true.  Many times I walked alone, praying, ‘O God of Daniel, shut their mouths!’ and He did.”

After pushing on through the darkness, Mary saw the dim outlines of the huts of the village.  All was quiet.  Suddenly she heard the swift patter of bare feet.  She was surrounded by warriors shouting, pushing and shaking their spears.

“What have you come for?” asked the chief.

“I have heard a young man is hurt.  I come to help him.  I also heard that you are going to war.  I have come to ask you not to fight,” said Mary.

The chief talked with some of his men.  Then he came up to Mary.

“The white Ma is welcome,” he said.  “She shall hear all we have to say before we fight.  All the same we shall fight.  Here is my son wounded by the enemy.  We must wipe out the shame put on us.  We must get even for this bad thing.  Now Ma you may give my son your medicine.  Then you must rest.  Women, you take care of the white Ma.  We will call her at cockcrow when we start.”

Mary fixed the young man’s hand.  Then she laid down in one of the huts for an hour’s sleep.  It seemed as though her eyes were hardly shut, before she heard a voice calling her.

“Ma, they are going to battle.  Run, Ma, run!”

The warriors were on the warpath.  Mary could hear their wild yells and the roll of the war drums.  Mary ran after them.  She was tired from the hard trip to their village.  She was weak from the sickness she had.  But nothing could stop her.  She caught up with the warriors just as they were getting ready to attack an enemy village.

“Behave like men,” she yelled, “not like fools.  Be quiet now.  Do not yell and shout.”

The warriors became silent.

“God says that revenge is wrong,” said Mary.  “He will pay back wicked people for the wrong things they do.  You should not try to get even.  Leave that to God.”

“No, no,” said the chief.  “If we do not pay back for the wrong done us, the tribe will not be afraid of us.  They will do more bad things to us.”