“Ma,” he said, “we thank you for coming to us.  We own that we wounded the chief over there.  It was only one of our men who did it.  It was not the act of all our town.  We ask you that you will speak with our enemy to bring them to peace with us.”

The Healed Chief

She looked into the face of the chief.  Then she saw to her joy that this was the very chief whom she had toiled through the rain to heal long ago.  Because of what she had done then, he was now at her feet asking her to make peace.  Should she run back and tell the warriors, who a hundred yards away were spoiling for a fight?  That was her first joyful thought.  Then she saw that she must first make her authority stronger over the whole band of warriors.

“Stay where you are,” she said.  “Some of you find a place where I can sit in comfort; and bring me food.  I will not starve while men fight.  Choose two or three men to speak well for you, and we will have two men from your enemies.”

These grim warriors, so sullen and threatening a few moments ago, obeyed her every word.  At length two chiefs came from the other side and stood on one side of her, while the two chiefs chosen in the village came and threw down their arms and knelt at their feet.

“Your chief,” they said, “was wounded by a drunken youth.  Do not let us shed blood through all our villages because of what he did.  If you will cease from war with us, we will pay to you any fine that the white Ma shall say.”

She, too, pressed them to stop their fighting.  Word went back to the warriors on both sides, who became wildly excited.  Some agreed, others stormed and raged till they were in a frenzy.  Would they fight even over her body?  Furious warriors came moving up from both sides.  But by arguing and appealing at last she persuaded the warlike tribe to accept a fine.

The Promise of Peace

The town whose drunken youth had wounded the enemy chief at once paid a part of the fine.  They used no money.  So the fine was paid in casks and bottles of trade gin.  Mary Slessor trembled.  For as the boxes of gin bottles were brought forward the warriors pranced with excitement and made ready to get drunk.  She knew that this would make them fight after all.  What could she do?  The roar of voices rose.  She could not make her own voice heard.  A daring idea flashed into her mind.  According to the law of these Egbo people, clothes thrown over anything give it the protection of your body.  She snatched off her skirt and all the clothing she could spare and spread them over the gin.  She seized the one glass that the tribe had, and doled out one portion only to each chief to test whether the bottles indeed contained spirit.  At last they grew quieter and she spoke to them.

“I am going,” she said, “across the Great Waters to my home, and I shall be away many moons.  Promise me here, on both sides, that you will not go to war with one another while I am away.”