By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War, G. A. Henty [100 books to read in a lifetime .TXT] 📗

The tent was speedily lowered. The Fans grasped their spears and lay down behind the circle of boxes and bales, and the six Houssas, the two white men and Ostik, to whom a trade musket had been entrusted, took their places at regular intervals round the circle, which was some eight yards in diameter. Presently the beat of the drums again broke the silence, and a shower of arrows, coming apparently from all points of the compass, fell in and around the circle.

“Open fire steadily and quietly,” Mr. Goodenough said, “among the bushes, but don't fire fast. We must tempt them to show themselves.”

A dropping fire commenced against the invisible foe, the fire being no more frequent than it would have been had they been armed with muzzle loading weapons. Presently musketry was heard on the enemy's side, the king's bodyguard having opened fire. This was disastrous to them, for, whereas the arrows had afforded but slight index as to the position of those who shot them, the puffs of smoke from the muskets at once showed the lurking places of those who used them, and Mr. Goodenough and Frank replied so truly that in a very short time the musketry fire of the enemy ceased altogether. The rain of arrows continued, the yells of the natives rose louder and louder, and the drums beat more furiously.

“They will be out directly,” Mr. Goodenough said. “Fire as quickly as you can when they show, but be sure and take good aim.”

Presently the sound of a war horn was heard, and from the wood all round a crowd of dark figures dashed forward, uttering appalling yells. On the instant the dropping fire of the defenders changed into an almost continuous fusillade, as the Sniders of the Houssas, the breech loading rifle of Mr. Goodenough, and the repeating Winchester of Frank were brought into play at their full speed. Yells of astonishment broke from the natives, and a minute later, leaving nearly a score of their comrades on the ground, the rest dashed back into the forest.

There was silence for a time and then the war drums began again.

“Dey try again hard dis time, massa,” Ostik said. “King tell 'em he cut off deir heads dey not win battle.”

This time the natives rushed forward with reckless bravery, in spite of the execution made among them by the rapid fire of the defenders, and rushed up to the circle of boxes. Then the Fans leaped to their feet, and, spear in hand, dashed over the defenses and fell upon the enemy.

The attack was decisive. Uttering yells of terror the natives fled, and two minutes later not a sound was to be heard in the forest.

“I tink dey run away for good dis time, sar,” Ostik said. “Dey hav' 'nuf of him. Dey fight very brave, much more brave than people down near coast. Dere in great battle only three, four men killed. Here as many men killed as we got altogether.”

This was so, nearly fifty of the natives having fallen between the trees and the encampment. When an hour passed and all was still, it became nearly certain that the enemy had retreated, and the Houssas, who are splendid scouts, divested themselves of their clothing and crawled away into the wood to reconnoiter. They returned in half an hour in high glee, bearing the king's chair.

“Dey all run away, sar, ebery one, de king an' all, and leab his chair behind. Dat great disgrace for him.”

A council was now held. The Fans were so delighted with the victory they had won, that they expressed their readiness to remain with their white companions as long as they chose, providing these would guarantee that they should be sent home on the expiration of their service. This Mr. Goodenough readily promised. After discussing the question with Frank, he determined to abstain from pushing farther into the interior, but to keep along northward, and then turning west with the sweep of the coast to travel slowly along, keeping at about the same distance as at present from the sea, and finally to come down either upon Cape Coast or Sierra Leone.

This journey would occupy a considerable time. They would cross countries but little known, and would have an ample opportunity for the collection of specimens, which they might, from time to time, send down by the various rivers they would cross, to the trading stations at their mouths.

It was felt that after this encounter with the natives it would be imprudent in the extreme to push further into the interior. They would have continual battles to fight, large numbers of the natives would be killed, and their collecting operations would be greatly interfered with. As a lesson to the natives the village was burnt to the ground; the presents, which the king in the hurry of his flight had left behind him, being recovered.

A liberal allowance of tobacco was served out as a “dash” or present to the Fans, and a bright silk handkerchief given to each. Then they turned off at right angles to the line they had before been pursuing and continued their journey.

Two days later Mr. Goodenough was prostrated by fever, and for several days lay between life and death. When he became convalescent he recovered strength very slowly. The heat was prodigious and the mosquitos rendered sleep almost impossible at night. The country at this place was low and swampy, and, weak as he was, Mr. Goodenough determined to push forward. He was, however, unable to walk, and, for the first time, a hammock was got out and mounted.

There is no more comfortable conveyance in the world than a hammock in Africa. It is slung from a long bamboo pole, overhead a thick awning keeps the sun from the hammock. Across the ends of the pole boards of some three feet long are fastened. The natives wrap a piece of cloth into the shape of a muffin and place it on their heads, and then take their places, two at each end of the pole, with the ends of the board on their heads. They can trot along at the rate of six miles an hour, for great distances, often keeping up a monotonous song. Their action is perfectly smooth and easy, and the traveler in the hammock, by shutting his eyes, might imagine himself swinging in a cot on board ship on an almost waveless sea.

After two days traveling they got on to higher ground, and here they camped for some time, Mr. Goodenough slowly recovering strength, and Frank busy in adding to their collections. In this he was in no slight degree assisted by the Fans, who, having nothing else to do, had now come to enter into the occupation of their employers. A good supply of muslin had been brought, and nets having been made, the Fans captured large quantities of butterflies, the great difficulty being in convincing them that only a few of each species were required. They were still more valuable in grubbing about in the decaying trunks of fallen trees, under loose bark, and in broken ground, for beetles and larvae, a task which suited them better than running about after butterflies, which, moreover, they often spoilt irreparably by their rough handling. Thus Frank was able to devote himself entirely to the pursuit of birds, and although all the varieties more usually met with had been obtained, the collection steadily increased in size.

Frank himself had severe attacks of fever, but none of these were so severe as that which he had had on the day of the death of the leopards.

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