The G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  They shouted in return, “After breakfast,” and soon afterwards, a rocket fired from the roof of the church falling into the camp, they again sallied out and attacked. It was a repetition of the fight of the day before. Several times Major Russell withheld his fire altogether, but the Ashantis could not be tempted to show in force beyond the edge of the wood. So inspirited were the defenders that they now made several sorties and penetrated some distance into the wood.

  At eight in the morning Sir Garnet Wolseley had marched from Cape Coast with three hundred marines and blue jackets to the relief of the position, but so tremendous was the heat that nearly half the men fell exhausted by the way, and were ordered when they recovered to march back to Cape Coast. The remainder, when they arrived at Assaibo, five miles from Abra Crampa, were so utterly exhausted that a long halt was necessary, although a faint but continuous fire could be heard from the besieged place.

  Chocolate and cold preserved meat were served out to the men, and in the course of another three hours a large number of the stragglers came in. At three o’clock, a hundred of the most exhausted men being left to hold the village, the rest of the force with the fifty West Indians stationed there marched forward to Buteana, where they were jointed by fifty more men from Accroful. Just as they started from this place they met the King of Abra, who had come out with a small body of warriors; from him Sir Garnet learned that this road, which wound round and came in at the back of Abra Crampa, was still open.

  The Ashantis were too busy with their own operations to watch the path, and the relieving force entered the place without firing a shot. The firing round the town continued, but Ammon Quatia, when he saw the reinforcements enter, at once began to fall back with the main body of his troops, and although the firing was kept up all night, when the besieged in the morning advanced to attack the Ashanti camp they found it altogether deserted.

  “It is of no use,” the Ashanti general said to Frank. “My men cannot fight in the open against the English guns. Besides, they do not know what they are fighting for here; but if your general should ever cross the Prah you will find it different. There are forests all the way to Coomassie, as you know, and the men will be fighting in defense of their own country, you will see what we shall do then. And now I will keep my promise to you. Tonight your guards will go to sleep. I shall have medicine given them which will make them sleep hard. One of the Fanti prisoners will come to your hut and will guide you through the woods to Assaiboo. Goodbye, my friend. Ammon Quatia has learnt that some of the white men are good and honest, and he will never forget that he owes his life to you. Take this in remembrance of Ammon Quatia.”

  And he presented Frank with a necklace composed of nuggets of gold as big as walnuts and weighing nearly twenty pounds.

  Frank in return gave the general the only article of value which he now possessed, his revolver and tin box of cartridges, telling him that he hoped he would never use it against the English, but that it might be of value to him should he ever again have trouble with his own men. Frank made a parcel of the necklace and of the gold he had received from the king for his goods, and warned Ostik to hold himself in readiness for flight. The camp was silent although the roar of musketry a few hundred yards off round Abra Crampa continued unbroken. For some time Frank heard his guards pacing outside, and occasionally speaking to each other. Then these sounds ceased and all was quiet. Presently the front of the tent was opened and a voice said, “Come, all is ready.”

  Frank came out and looked round. The Ashanti camp was deserted. Ammon Quatia had moved away with the main body of his troops, although the musketry fire round the village was kept up. A Fanti stood at the door of the hut with Ostik. The four guards were sleeping quietly. Noiselessly the little party stole away. A quarter of an hour later they struck the path, and an hour’s walking brought them to Assaiboo. Not an Ashanti was met with along the path, but Frank hardly felt that he was safe until he heard the challenge of “Who goes there?” from an English sentry. A few minutes later he was taken before Captain Bradshaw, R. N., who commanded the sailors and marines who had been left there. Very hearty was the greeting which the young Englishman received from the genial sailor, and a bowl of soup and a glass of grog were soon set before him.

  His arrival created quite a sensation, and for some hours he sat talking with the officers, while Ostik was an equal subject of curiosity among the sailors. The news that the Ashanti army was in full retreat relieved the garrison of the place from all further fear of attack, and Frank went to sleep before morning, and was only roused at noon when a messenger arrived with the news that the Ashanti camp had been found deserted, and that the road in its rear was found to be strewn with chairs, clothes, pillows, muskets, and odds and ends of every description. Few Ashanti prisoners had been taken, but a considerable number of Fantis, who had been prisoners among them, had come in, having escaped in the confusion of the retreat. Among these were many women, several of whom had been captured when the Ashantis had first crossed the Prah ten months before. In the afternoon Sir Garnet Wolseley, with the greater portion of the force from Abra Crampa, marched in, and Frank was introduced by Captain Bradshaw to the general. As the latter was anxious to press on at once to Cape Coast, in order that the sailors and marines might sleep on board ship that night, he asked Frank to accompany him, and on the road heard the story of his adventures. He invited him to sleep for the night at Government House, an invitation which Frank accepted; but he slept worse than he had done for a long time. It was now nearly two years since he had landed in Africa, and during all that time he had slept, covered with a rug, on the canvas of his little camp bed. The complete change, the stillness and security, and, above all, the novelty of a bed with sheets, completely banished sleep, and it was not until morning was dawning that, wrapping himself in a rug, and lying on the ground, he was able to get a sleep. In the morning at breakfast Sir Garnet asked him what he intended to do, and said that if he were in no extreme hurry to return to England he could render great services as guide to the expedition, which would start for Coomassie as soon as the white troops arrived. Frank had already thought the matter over. He had had more than enough of Africa, but two or three months longer would make no difference, and he felt that his knowledge of the Ashanti methods of war, of the country to be traversed, the streams to be crossed, and the points at which the Ashantis would probably make a stand, would enable him to tender really valuable assistance to the army. He therefore told Sir Garnet Wolseley that he had no particular business which called him urgently back, and that he was willing to guide the army to Coomassie. He at once had quarters as an officer assigned to him in the town, with rations for himself and servant.

  His first step was to procure English garments, for although he had before starting laid aside his Ashanti costume, and put on that he had before worn, his clothes were now so travel worn as to be scarce wearable. He had no difficulty in doing this. Many of the officers were already invalided home, and one who was just sailing was glad to dispose of his uniform, which consisted of a light brown Norfolk shooting jacket, knickerbockers, and helmet, as these would be of no use to him in England.

  Frank’s next step was to go to the agent of Messrs. Swanzy, the principal African merchants of the coast. This gentleman readily cashed one of the orders on the African bank which Mr. Goodenough had, before his death, handed over to Frank, and the latter proceeded to discharge the long arrears of wages owing to Ostik, adding, besides, a handsome present. He offered to allow his faithful servant to depart to join his family on the Gaboon at once, should he wish to do so, but Ostik declared that he would remain with him as long as he stopped in Africa. On Frank’s advice, however, he deposited his money, for safe keeping, with Messrs. Swanzy’s agent, with orders to transmit it to his family should anything happen to him during the expedition.

  Three days later Frank was attacked by fever, the result of the reaction after so many dangers. He was at once sent on board the Simoon, which had been estab
lished as a hospital ship; but the attack was a mild one, and in a few days, thanks to the sea air, and the attention and nursing which he received, he was convalescent. As soon as the fever passed away, and he was able to sit on deck and enjoy the sea breezes, he had many visits from the officers of the ships of war. Among these was the captain of the Decoy gunboat.

  After chatting with Frank for some time the officer said: “I am going down the coast as far as the mouth of the Volta, where Captain Glover is organizing another expedition. You will not be wanted on shore just at present, and a week’s rest will do you good; what do you say to coming down with me—it will give you a little change and variety?”

  Frank accepted the invitation with pleasure. An hour later the Decoy’s boat came alongside, and Frank took his place on board it, Ostik following with his clothes. An hour later the Decoy got up her anchor and steamed down the coast. It was delightful to Frank, sitting in a large wicker work chair in the shade of the awning, watching the distant shore and chatting with the officers. He had much to hear of what had taken place in England since he left, and they on their part were equally eager to learn about the road along which they would have to march—at least those of them who were fortunate enough to be appointed to the naval brigade—and the wonders of the barbarian capital. The Decoy was not fast, about six knots being her average pace of steaming; however, no one was in a hurry; there would be nothing to do until the troops arrived from England; and to all, a trip down the coast was a pleasant change after the long monotony of rolling at anchor. For some distance from Cape Coast the shore was flat, but further on the country became hilly. Some of the undulations reached a considerable height, the highest, Mamquady, being over two thousand feet.

  “That ought to be a very healthy place,” Frank said. “I should think that a sanatorium established there would be an immense boon to the whites all along the coasts.”

  “One would think so,” an officer replied “but I’m told that those hills are particularly unhealthy. That fellow you see jutting out is said to be extremely rich in gold. Over and over again parties have been formed to dig there, but they have always suffered so terribly from fever that they have had to relinquish the attempt. The natives suffer as well as the whites. I believe that the formation is granite, the surface of which is much decomposed; and it is always found here that the turning up of ground that has not been disturbed for many years is extremely unhealthy, and decomposing granite possesses some element particularly obnoxious to health. The natives, of course, look upon the mountain as a fetish, and believe that an evil spirit guards it. The superstition of the negroes is wonderful, and at Accra they are, if possible, more superstitious than anywhere else. Every one believes that every malady under the sun is produced by fetish, and that some enemy is casting spells upon them.”

  “There is more in it than you think,” the doctor joined in; “although it is not spells, but poison, which they use against each other. The use of poison is carried to an incredible extent here. I have not been much on shore; but the medical men, both civilian and military, who have been here any time are convinced that a vast number of the deaths that take place are due to poison. The fetish men and women who are the vendors of these drugs keep as a profound secret their origin and nature, but it is certain that many of them are in point of secrecy and celerity equal to those of the middle ages.”

  “I wonder that the doctors have never discovered what plants they get them from,” Frank said.

  “Some of them have tried to do so,” the doctor replied; “but have invariably died shortly after commencing their experiments; it is believed they have been poisoned by the fetish men in order to prevent their secrets being discovered.”

  The hours passed pleasurably. The beautiful neatness and order prevailing on board a man of war were specially delightful to Frank after the rough life he had so long led, and the silence and discipline of the men presented an equally strong contrast to the incessant chattering and noise kept up by the negroes.

  The next morning the ship was off Accra. Here the scenery had entirely changed. The hills had receded, and a wide and slightly undulating plain extended to their feet, some twelve miles back. The captain was going to land, as he had some despatches for the colony, and he invited Frank to accompany him. They did not, as Frank expected, land in a man of war’s boat, but in a surf boat, which, upon their hoisting a signal, came out to them. These surf boats are large and very wide and flat. They are paddled by ten or twelve negroes, who sit upon the gunwale. These men work vigorously, and the boats travel at a considerable pace. Each boat has a stroke peculiar to itself. Some paddle hard for six strokes and then easy for an equal number. Some will take two or three hard and then one easy. The steersman stands in the stern and steers with an oar. He or one of the crew keeps up a monotonous song, to which the crew reply in chorus, always in time with their paddling.

  The surf is heavy at Accra and Frank held his breath, as, after waiting for a favorable moment, the steersman gave the sign and the boat darted in at lightning speed on the top of a great wave, and ran up on the beach in the midst of a whirl of white foam.

  While the captain went up to Government House, Frank, accompanied by one of the young officers who had also come ashore, took a stroll through the town. The first thing that struck him was the extraordinary number of pigs. These animals pervaded the whole place. They fed in threes and fours in the middle of the streets. They lay everywhere in the road, across the doors, and against the walls. They quarreled energetically inside lanes and courtyards, and when worsted in their disputes galloped away grunting, careless whom they might upset. The principal street of Accra was an amusing sight. Some effort had been made to keep it free of the filth and rubbish which everywhere else abounded. Both sides were lined by salesmen and women sitting on little mats upon the low wooden stools used as seats in Africa. The goods were contained in wooden trays. Here were dozens of women offering beads for sale of an unlimited variety of form and hue. They varied from the tiny opaque beads of all colors used by English children for their dolls, to great cylindrical beads of variegated hues as long and as thick as the joint of a finger. The love of the Africans for beads is surprising. The women wear them round the wrists, the neck, and the ankles. The occupation of threading the little beads is one of their greatest pleasures. The threads used are narrow fibers of palm leaves, which are very strong. The beads, however, are of unequal sizes, and no African girl who has any respect for her personal appearance will put on a string of beads until she has, with great pains and a good deal of skill, rubbed them with sand and water until all the projecting beads are ground down, and the whole are perfectly smooth and even.

  Next in number to the dealers in beads were those who sold calico, or, as it is called in Africa, cloth, and gaudily colored kerchiefs for the head. These three articles—beads, cotton cloth, and colored handkerchiefs—complete the list of articles required for the attire and adornment of males and females in Africa. Besides these goods, tobacco, in dried leaves, short clay pipes, knives, small looking glasses, and matches were offered for sale. The majority of the saleswomen, however, were dealers in eatables, dried fish, smoked fish, canki—which is a preparation of ground corn wrapped up in palm leaves in the shape of paste—eggs, fowls, kids, cooked meats in various forms, stews, boiled pork, fried knobs of meat, and other native delicacies, besides an abundance of seeds, nuts, and other vegetable productions.

  After walking for some time through the streets Frank and his companions returned to the boat, where, half an hour later, the captain joined them, and, putting off to the Decoy, they continued the voyage down the coast.

  The next morning they weighed anchor off Addah, a village at the mouth of the Volta. They whistled for a surf boat, but it was some time before one put out. When she was launched it was doubtful whether she would be able to make her way through the breaking water. The surf was much heavier here than it had been at Accra, and each wave threw the boat almost perpendi
cularly into the air, so that only a few feet of the end of the keel touched the water. Still she struggled on, although so long was she in getting through the surf that those on board the ship thought several times that she must give it up as impracticable. At last, however, she got through; the paddlers waited for a minute to recover from their exertions, and then made out to the Decoy. None of the officers had ever landed here, and several of them obtained leave to accompany the captain on shore. Frank was one of the party. After what they had seen of the difficulty which the boat had in getting out, all looked somewhat anxiously at the surf as they approached the line where the great smooth waves rolled over and broke into boiling foam. The steersman stood upon the seat in the stern, in one hand holding his oar, in the other his cap. For some time he stood half turned round, looking attentively seaward, while the boat lay at rest just outside the line of breakers. Suddenly he waved his cap and gave a shout. It was answered by the crew. Every man dashed his paddle into the water. Desperately they rowed, the steersman encouraging them by wild yells. A gigantic wave rolled in behind the boat, and looked for a moment as if she would break into it, but she rose on it just as it turned over, and for an instant was swept along amidst a cataract of white foam, with the speed of an arrow. The next wave was a small one, and ere a third reached it the boat grounded on the sand. A dozen men rushed out into the water. The passengers threw themselves anyhow on to their backs, and in a minute were standing perfectly dry upon the beach.

  They learned that Captain Glover’s camp was half a mile distant, and at once set out for it. Upon the way up to the camp they passed hundreds of negroes, who had arrived in the last day or two, and had just received their arms. Some were squatted on the ground cooking and resting themselves. Others were examining their new weapons, oiling and removing every spot of rust, and occasionally loading and firing them off. The balls whizzed through the air in all directions. The most stringent orders had been given forbidding this dangerous nuisance; but nothing can repress the love of negroes for firing off guns. There were large numbers of women among them; these had acted as carriers on their journey to the camp; for among the coast tribes, as among the Ashantis, it is the proper thing when the warriors go out on the warpath, that the women should not permit them to carry anything except their guns until they approach the neighborhood of the enemy.