Our pursuers were rapidly drawing nearer and were almost upon us. They included, I presume, every heathen savage in the town, each of them yelling like ten, and perhaps engaged meanwhile in loading their guns with such deadly material as broken pots and barbed wire. At last, “All right,” shouted the mate; and we moved off just as the enemy in a fleet of canoes came round the last curve of the narrow river. I had made our party, including Nze, lie down flat in the bottom of the launch; only Ndong Koni at the wheel and myself at the engine remained standing. Despite rage and excitement I did not expect that they would fire upon us. But I very much feared that a stray shot, intended only to intimidate us, might do us as much damage as the “bow drawn at a venture” did to a certain king a long time ago. We were soon beyond their range; and then Robert’s gladness and the unbounded joy of Nze were a sufficient reward for us all. For my part, I was exceedingly glad that Nze’s husband was present; otherwise an elopement would have been credited to me. A short time before I left Africa I was conducting a prayer-meeting in an Mpongwe town, at which Robert was present. He rose and told the people about his work among the Fang and what great changes were taking place through the preaching of the Gospel, which must surely be the power of God. Then in closing he told them something of the new joy that had come into his own life. He said that although at first he had been bitter and rebellious against the fate that had turned his day into night, yet he had lived to thank God for sending even this affliction; for, in his blindness, he had wearied of the “far country,” and like the prodigal had come home. In Christ he had found pardon and peace; and finally he had been permitted to go as a missionary to the Fang, whom he had learned to love, and many of whom, he was sure, loved him. “I know,” said he, “that I shall never see this world again, nor the faces of my friends; but I am walking in the light of heaven.” In a deep undertone, full of wonder, full of sympathy, full of tears, they all responded: “A-y, Bobbie! A-y, Bobbie!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ BY THE SAME AUTHOR The Jungle Folk of Africa _Illustrated, 8vo, cloth, net $1.50_ “A personal narrative, most realistic, most truthful, most fascinating—the author knows extremely well what he is writing about.”—_Chicago Tribune._ “As one reads, the mystery and terror of the jungle seem to penetrate his soul, yet he reads on reluctant to lay down a book so grimly fascinating.”—_Presbyterian._ “A book that is remarkable for its vitality, picturesqueness, candor and literary quality. Mr. Milligan saw a lot during his seven African years.” —_N. Y. Times._ ------------------------------------------------------------------------