An eleven-year-old boy was in the lead. He was the oldest of the five children. He carried on his head a box filled with tea, sugar, and bread. An eight-year-old child followed him carrying a teakettle and cooking pots. Next came a three-year-old who held tight to little Janie's hand. Then came Mary carrying a baby girl and a bundle of food.
The children slipped in the mud. They became soaked by the rain. The jungle was dark around them and strange noises came from all sides. The children began to cry. They were hungry and scared.
"Don't cry children," said Mary. "Remember Jesus is watching over us. He will take care of us. Soon we will be in the village and then we can have something to eat and we can put on dry clothes."
They marched on. At last they came to the village. The village was dark and still. "Hello, hello," called Mary. "Is anyone here?"
No one answered. Mary called again. At last two slaves came.
"Ma," said the oldest slave, "the chief did not know you were coming today. The mother of the chief at Ifako died and all the people have gone to Ifako for the burying."
"All right," said Mary. "We will wait here then for Mr. Bishop and the baggage carriers."
"I will send a messenger to Chief Edem," said the slave, "to tell him that you have come."
Mary took some of her food and cooked it over an open fire in the pouring rain. She fed the children and put them to bed.
At last Mr. Bishop came to the village.