XII
THE CRUCIBLE OF THE COMMON THINGS
JUST inside the low door of the little mud house, the group of missionaries stood in a circle with bowed heads. There were Tom and Betty, Harry and Millie, and Harold. The truck, which was to carry the cargo as far as the banks of the Kuluene, was standing in front of the two mud houses. Betty was going along part of the way to a place where she could get some needed medical treatment. The children opened their eyes during the prayer and peeked through their fingers at their daddies, who were leaving, going away to the jungle where the wild Indians lived. This time there would be no return until they entered the Xavante territory, and fortunately none could foresee what was before them. “Lord, we go secure in Thy promises.” “We are going, Heavenly Father, at Thy command. Lead us in the right way.”
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