Grenfell's engineer, who was to have put the ship together, died. At
last they reached Stanley Pool. Grenfell with eight negroes started
to try to build the ship. It was a tremendous task. Grenfell said
the _Peace_ was "prayed together." It was prayer and hard work and
gumption. At last the ship was launched, steam was up, the _Peace_
began to move. "She lives, master, she lives!" shouted the excited
Africans.
A thousand thrilling adventures came to him as he steamed up and
down the river, teaching and preaching, often in the face of
poisoned arrows and spears. We are now going to hear the story of one
adventure.
_The Steamer's Journey_
The crocodiles drowsily dosing in the slime of the Congo river bank
stirred uneasily as a strange sound broke the silence of the blazing
African morning. They lifted their heavy jaws and swung their heads
down stream. Their beady eyes caught sight of a Thing mightier than a
thousand crocodiles. It was pushing its way slowly up stream.
The sound was the throb of the screw of the steamer from whose funnel
a light ribbon of smoke floated across the river. An awning shaded the
whole deck from bow to stern. On the top of the awning, under a little
square canopy, stood a tall young negro; the muscles in his sturdy
arms and his broad shoulders rippled under his dark skin as the wheel
swung round in his swift, strong hands.
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