These words thrilled Ma with happiness, and were a reward for all she had come through; but they made her humble too, for she knew that unless God had been with her she would not have borne up so long. Now that she was surer of herself and of that wondrous Power behind her, she grew bolder still, and went wherever trouble threatened. No place was too far for her to reach. Natives in distant parts were often surprised to see her walking into their midst when they were starting to fight. Once a secret message came, saying that two tribes, many miles away, were on the warpath. Ma was ill and weak and in bed, but she rose at once. Edem said, "Ma, you are going into a wild beast's den, and will not come out alive." Night fell as she was tramping along, and she was always nervous of the darkness and the mystery of the forest. The animals frightened her. "I prayed," she said, "that God would shut their mouths, and He did." At midnight she reached a village where she hoped to borrow a drum and a freeman to beat it before her as she marched, a sign that one under the protection of Egbo was coming. But the chief, a surly despot, would not see her, and would not give her the drum. "If there is a war," his message said, "a woman is not likely to stop it." Back went her reply. "You think only of the woman. You have forgotten the woman's God. I go without a drum." On she went, and came at last to one of the villages where the trouble was brewing. All was silent and still. Suddenly, out of the darkness swarmed armed men and closed around her and demanded her business. "I have come to stop the war." They jeered at her, such a small, feeble woman, and smiled grimly. "You won't do that," they said. "We shall see. I want to have a palaver and hear the story." "All right, Ma," they replied, humouring her. "Go to sleep until second cock-crow and we shall wake you up and take you with us." But when she was awakened the band were already away on their errand of death. "Run, Ma, run and stop them!" cried the women, who feared what would happen; and she rushed breathlessly up and down steep tracks and through streams until she caught up with the warriors, who were making ready to attack and uttering their wild war whoops. She walked into their midst. "Don't go on like beardless boys," she said in scorn. "Be quiet." Then she went on until she came upon the enemy drawn up in line across the path. "I salute you," said she. There was no reply. Why was this white woman interfering with them at such a moment? "Oho! I see you are gentlemen and have nice manners." They frowned. Things were looking dangerous, but Ma was never at a loss, and she began to smile and joke. Then stepped forward an old man and came and knelt at her feet. "Ma, you know me? You remember you nursed and healed me?" It was the sick chief she had gone to see after she arrived at Ekenge.