The Okoyong, who would not have endured the presence of a man, tolerated her. She lived at first in the king's hut, where they were able to watch her day and night. They believed that she could do them no harm, and they were willing to let her prescribe for their illnesses and try to heal their poor bodies. They called her "Ma," and when she did not oppose their customs, they obeyed her.
But Mary Slessor was not one to countenance evil, or to step aside from a path which she had set for herself. When she saw prisoners about to be tortured, not as punishment, but merely as a test of their innocence, she protested and argued and scolded until the chief reconsidered. When human sacrifices were to be offered after the death of a young chief, she grew frantic; she mocked and commanded and even slept beside the prisoners so that they should not be murdered, and she helped them escape. She arbitrated quarrels, she proved the witch-doctors to be impostors. Day in and day out she preached of a Kingdom of Love until the natives began to understand what it would be to live at peace with their fellows, to be free from fear and superstition, and to have hope in God.
The government sent no consul into the district but appointed Mary Slessor to be consul, and she sat in distant villages and heard disputes and debated with great chiefs about proper punishment for criminals, about trade, and about matters in dispute between the natives and the government. She was called "The White Queen of Okoyong."
Now she was growing old; her little body was racked by ague; she was often so tired that she did not see how she could live, but she saw her work prospering. It was necessary for her to have a rest, and she was about to leave. She was packing her few belongings and the river steamer was almost at hand.
But at the last minute there came to her a message. It was a secret; she did not know who brought it. A chief had been injured by a man from another tribe, and his own tribesmen were on their way to avenge him.
She did not hesitate for an instant, unless it was to look at a picture which hung on the wall of her little hut. It was the likeness of a young man, the boy who had once defied her in Queen Street in Dundee and had flung his leaden weight round her head. From the moment when he had entered her meeting he had led a better life, and he had sent her his picture and that of his wife and children to show her how prosperous they were. With the recollection of that courageous stand in her mind, she set out on her journey. She might miss the boat and not get home, but that made no difference. How could she rest if she knew that behind her all her work was being undone?
The chief men of the village opposed her going.
"They will kill you."
"They are mad, they will shoot wildly. If you are not assassinated, you will be shot by accident."
"They will insult you in their drunken rage."