With Wolseley to Kumasi Part 22

"Sir Garnet," said the other, motioning to him. "Mr d.i.c.k Stapleton, of whom you have heard."

d.i.c.k bowed at the name and stood, awaiting the wishes of those who had summoned him.

"You are well and strong again, it is reported?" said the chief of the staff. "That is good news, for the General desires some information.

Do you consider that you are well enough to undertake another journey into the bush?"

"Quite," was d.i.c.k's emphatic answer. "I am fit and strong again now, and longing to be off."

Sir Garnet smiled. The chief of the staff smiled, while the officers present exchanged knowing glances.

"That is like your spirit," went on the officer, "but I wish you to consider this question before you reply, for the journey upon which we require you to go is one from which some do not return. We have news, more or less reliable, of the movements of the Ashanti armies, news which is sufficient till the troops arrive from England. But in the meanwhile we want to have particulars of the country beyond the Pra, from there to k.u.masi, and if possible news of the captives and of King Koffee. Troops are expected at the end of the year, in two months perhaps. So you have that time in which to get this information. But you know, doubtless, the condition of the country. There are at least two Ashanti armies lying in the jungle, and perhaps there are others."

He ceased speaking and looked questioningly at the young fellow standing hat in hand, as if awaiting an answer, while he desired above all things to weigh his character, to see for himself whether he were indeed the lad of courage which the Governor had represented him to be, and whether he were a fit person to undertake an expedition of such danger.

"There will be no mercy from the Ashantis," he added, lifting a warning finger. "You have met them and you should know."

"When can I start? The sooner the better," said d.i.c.k, quietly.

"Then you will go?"

"Yes, sir, and I will get this information for you if it is possible.

What men may I have? I'd like the old launch which I had before. She steams well, and has a stout hull."

"Choose your own staff and your own methods of proceeding," was the genial answer. "They tell me that you have patrolled the river before, so you must know what is wanted. Come and report here just before you leave. And, er--Mr Stapleton, there will be a handsome reward for this information."

d.i.c.k was glad that he had heard that after he had accepted the task.

"After all," he thought, as he left the office, "I would rather work for the fun of the thing and for the good of old England than for money.

If, however, there is a reward and I win it, why, all the better. It will be like winning a prize. And now for the preparations. I shall want to think it out."

He bade farewell to the staff officer who had brought him from the ship and went to see Mr Pepson. A week later he set off on his hazardous journey to k.u.masi, to the headquarters of the most ferocious monarch known to Englishmen, to the spot where everything was fetish, where thousands of slaves were butchered in the year, and where the sight of a white man was sufficient to rouse all the inhabitants to a condition bordering on insanity.

"Recollect, my dear lad," said Mr Pepson, as he bade his young friend good-bye, "that King Koffee is a wild beast, and that it would be better for you and your men to die fighting, or to shoot one another, rather than fall into his hands. Good-bye, and good luck."

He turned away to hide a tear, this strong man who so seldom showed his feelings. But he was deeply attached to d.i.c.k, and would gladly have kept him. However, this was duty, duty to his country, and he was forced to let him go. Then he turned and watched as the surf-boat took our hero out to his launch. There was the scream of a whistle, the waving of many hands, and d.i.c.k was off--perhaps never to return again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY.

"We will look into Elmina on the way over to the Pra," said d.i.c.k, as the launch steamed along the coast, keeping just outside the rollers. "I have news of something, and want to inspect. Later we can go up the Pra and get this other information."

He was sitting on the roof of the tiny cabin, surveying the coast with a critical eye, while every now and again he turned his gaze to his crew with a feeling of satisfaction. For this was some reward for the disappointment occasioned by his illness. He was again on the move, with the very same crew, and in addition there was with him young Emmett, a youth some few months older than himself, tall and straight, and now entirely recovered from the sickness which had prostrated him and sent him to the hospital ship _Simoon_.

Jack Emmett was just the sort of fellow to take our hero's fancy, for he was a genial, high-spirited lad, fond of a joke, and still keener on seeing some fun with the enemy. So far he had done nothing more than inspect the Gold Coast from the sea, for he had fallen ill on the voyage out. But he was eager to meet the enemy, and more than that, d.i.c.k found that he took a great interest in the coming operations, intelligently following the movements and preparations on our side. More than all, he had a huge admiration for his young leader, who had in so few weeks managed to meet with so much adventure.

"What is this news?" demanded Jack, for up till now d.i.c.k had kept his counsel to himself. "It is new to hear that we are to make into Elmina.

Are there any Ashantis there?"

"You will hear," was the answer. "This I can tell you, that Sir Garnet has had a big palaver since he reached the coast, and called in all the kings of the tribes under British protection. Some came in all state, with umbrellas and tom-toms, and with the accompaniment of rattling bones and war-drums. Others stayed away, and sent defiant answers.

Those fellows live in the neighbourhood of Elmina, and it struck me, when I heard the tale, that they would hardly have dared to act as they have done had there not been some sort of encouragement."

"I follow the argument. Then you think--?"

"That the Ashantis are somewhere in the neighbourhood. Yes," responded d.i.c.k. "Let's talk to Johnnie."

He sang out for the native stoker, who relinquished his firing shovel, and came trotting along the miniature deck, still clad in his tattered garments, and still with the clay pipe of which he was so fond, gripped between his teeth. But there was a little difference. Johnnie had added dignity. His was a proud mien, and whenever he stopped to speak to a white man or even a black nowadays he always turned his right cheek to the stranger, for there was the scar, livid and red against his dusky skin, an honourable scar which told of fighting, of a battle in which his master had gained a name, and he, Johnnie the stoker, a proportion of the glory.

"Ma.s.sa call," he said, raising his hand to his battered cap after the custom of the seamen. "Johnnie here. What yo want?"

"Repeat this tale of Elmina," said d.i.c.k, quietly. "Tell this officer what you told me."

Johnnie greeted the youth beside his master in similar fashion, with an elaborate salute, and treated him to a critical survey.

"Johnnie know little ting or two," he began, with a knowing smile. "He 'tend dat he no good, like same as many at de coast. He say, 'hate white men, and wish Ashanti here.' Johnnie know dere heaps of spies at de Castle, and he listen and open um ear. Soon fellow come and ask him if he find out what going to happen. Me say glad, if plenty gold dust.

Den dis fellow he tell Johnnie dat de Ashanti lie in de bush along close to de coast, ready to jump on de white man. Ask me to let um know when time come for de rush. Dat all I know. Johnnie take de dust and perhaps get more later."

He looked at the two sprawling on the roof of the cabin with a cunning smile, in which they joined. For, after all, though it was not precisely honest, this action of the stoker's, yet all was fair in love and war, and if one of the agents of the enemy came to one of the servants of the white men asking for information and offering money, was it not in the nature of such a man as Johnnie to keep his information to himself, giving t.i.t-bits of news which were of no importance, while he abstracted information as to the enemy's position, and a reward for himself?

"And that is all, Johnnie?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"All same as me tell yo. Noding more."

"Then you can get back to the engine. Now, Jack," went on d.i.c.k, "supposing it were true that the Ashantis were here, within a few miles of Elmina, and imagined themselves hidden from the English. Wouldn't it be an opportunity to take them by surprise and start the campaign favourably? There are not many troops at the Coast, I know, but there are marines and bluejackets aboard, and they should be sufficient."

"And they could be concentrated here rapidly. Yes; it would be a golden opportunity, and I see your meaning. Then you will put in at Elmina?"

"When it is dark," said d.i.c.k. "Then we shall not be seen, perhaps.

That is why I delayed our departure. We are far enough along the coast now, and I propose that we steam out a little and lay to."

The proposal was carried out at once, for they judged that they were now some two hours' steaming from Elmina, and the day was still young.

Therefore, it was as well to keep as far out as possible. Accordingly, the bows of the launch shot out over the oily sea, which was heaving continuously as it does along this long unbroken African coast, and very soon she lay to, a couple of miles or more from the beach.

"We'll have the lines out and do a little fishing," sang out d.i.c.k. "Any one who likes may sleep, save the man on guard. Johnnie, you'll need to bank the fires, for we shall want steam later."

A canvas awning had been rigged over the deck of the launch, for the heat would otherwise have been almost unbearable. And beneath this the two young officers and their crew stretched themselves at their ease, while each dropped a line overboard, for they had been careful to bring these in case their provisions should run short.

Some four hours later, just as the day began to draw in, they pulled up their lines and headed for Elmina. It was dark when they arrived off the fort, and they steamed into the river at once, pa.s.sing beneath the bridge erected by the Dutch. Not a sound was heard aboard. The engines were working dead slow, while a screen of sacks surrounded the funnel, hiding any sparks which might have betrayed the presence of the launch.

In the bows stood two of the bluejackets, with long poles in their hands, and presently, as the launch pa.s.sed beyond the town into the river, they stretched these ahead as far as possible, letting the tips trail in the water.

"Take her along dead slow," whispered d.i.c.k in Johnnie's ear. "There are plenty of sand and mud banks, and we don't want to get stranded. Ah!

that must be one."

Without the slightest warning, the launch came sweetly to a stop, burying her nose in a bank of mud which cropped up in the middle of the river. Even the men who held the poles had not been able to detect the obstruction in time, for their rods simply pierced the soft material.

And now, when they attempted to push the launch off, the same thing happened.