“Don’t you know that Calabar is the white man’s grave?” asked one of her school friends.
“Yes,” answered Mary. “But it is also a post of honor. Since few volunteer for that section, I wish to go because my Master needs me there.”
At last the time had come for Mary to leave for Africa. For fourteen long years she had worked at the looms in the weaving factory. As she worked, she had dreamed of Calabar. Now her dream was going to come true. Mary went to the city of Liverpool. There she went on board the ship, the “S. S. Ethiopia.” As she got on board she looked around. Everywhere were barrels of whiskey.
“Hundreds of barrels of whiskey, but only one missionary,” said Mary sadly.
The boat whistle blew. The engines chugged. The “S. S. Ethiopia” was on its way. It was August 5, 1876. Mary saw the shoreline of Scotland become dimmer and dimmer. She looked forward to seeing the coast of Africa and the land of Calabar.
“At last I am on my way to Calabar,” said Mary Slessor as the “S. S. Ethiopia,” sailed southward. “How Mother would like to be with me! How often she prayed that God would send more missionaries to Calabar. I didn’t think then that I would really be one of them.”
It did not take Mary long to make friends on board the ship. Among the friends she made were Mr. and Mrs. Thomson.
“So you are going to Calabar,” said Mr. Thomson. “Aren’t you afraid of that wild country?”
“Oh, no,” said Mary, “because God is with me. He will take care of me. Jesus said, ‘Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world,’ and I am trusting in His promise.”
“Do you know what this country is like?” asked Mrs. Thomson.
“Only what I have read about it,” said Mary. “You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, we have,” said Mrs. Thomson. “My husband wants to build a home where tired missionaries can rest and rebuild their strength for their wonderful work. He has explored the West Coast and chosen the Cameroon Mountains as the place for that home. We are going there now to build this home for missionaries. Missionary work in Africa is so hard that missionaries need a place where they can rest from time to time.”
“I think that’s wonderful of you!” said Mary. “I know the Lord will bless the work you are doing. Won’t you tell me about Africa?”
“Well,” said Mr. Thomson, “the climate is very hot. The sun is so strong and hot that white people don’t dare go out without a hat to protect their heads. The rivers are very muddy and often flow through dark, gloomy swamps that white people can hardly get through.”
“But often,” broke in Mrs. Thomson, “there are beautiful green banks with the most beautiful flowers. You will see the prettiest birds in all the world dressed in the brightest reds and greens and blues and purples. You will see the long-legged cranes and the funny pelicans with their big beaks.”