Her boots became water soaked. She took them off and threw
them in the bush. Soon her stockings wore out and she walked through the
jungle mud barefooted. She knew she was doing God's work, and even fearful
rainstorms were not going to stop her.
After three hours the weather began to clear, but now Mary's head began to
ache from fever. As Mary and the guard passed through the jungle villages,
the people looked at Mary with surprise. But nothing would stop Mary. She
pushed on, and after walking through the jungle for eight hours, she
stumbled into the village of the sick chief.
Some of the people were crying. They expected to be killed when the chief
died. Others were laughing and shouting. They were going to have "fun"
when the chief died. They were going to kill people and have a wild party.
Mary was tired and sick, but she went at once to the chief's house. He was
stretched out on a dirty bed. His face was gray with sickness. He was
moaning and groaning. He was very near death.
Mary examined the chief to see what his sickness was. She opened her little
medicine chest and took out some medicine. She gave the chief a dose. It
made the chief a little better.
"I don't have enough of this medicine with me," said Mary. She knew that
away on the other side of the river another missionary was working. She
knew he had some of the medicine.
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