nursery, but the baby that had been saved from a live burial sickened and died. Harold and Harry buried him as the setting sun cast lengthening shadows across the small grave. Slowly the village emerged from the shadow of death. At nightfall the tribe would gather to hear the missionaries tell the story of Jesus with the limited vocabulary they had acquired, and watched films depicting the life and ministry of Christ. Jesus, the Healer, seemed to mean much to them. The Moody Science films telling of the Creation were a source of wonder and delight. They requested to see them over and over again, marvelling that this should be the handiwork of the Father of Men.
The Indians, still thin and weak, were once again about and making their way down the bank and off to fish. The women grated manioc; the surviving children played with parrots in the shadows of the long house. It had been a fight to save a tribe from extinction, and the fight had been won. The MacArthurs must return to their work.
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