With Wolseley to Kumasi Part 9

"Get in here," suddenly shouted Mr Pepson. "The very place! It may shelter us."

He sprang to his feet, and forcing his way through some feet of the tangle, came to a tree of somewhat smaller dimensions as to height, but of enormous girth.

Like all the cotton trees in the forest at that point, the roots of this leviathan barely did more than penetrate the surface of the ground, for it was there that all the moisture lay. Below was a hard stratum which offered opposition, and as a result the roots had spread themselves out over a wide area, while they had risen into the air till there was an archway of large dimensions beneath the tree. d.i.c.k had seen the same before, and it had attracted his attention. At Mr Pepson's shout he tore after him, and presently all four were stretched under the arch.

Nor were they a minute too soon, for if there had been a roar before, the noise now was deafening and positively awe-inspiring. The gusts which had up to this caught the tops of the trees seemed now to be concentrated into one enormous blast. The very forest s.h.i.+vered and trembled. The treetops bent and the trunks groaned. Then the storm burst. A sheet of lightning lit up the sky and even penetrated to the forest depths. The roar became even greater, till the volume of sound was positively deafening. And how the trees bent! The one beneath which the party lay trembled and swayed. As d.i.c.k's hand rested on one of the giant roots he could feel it moving under the strain, and wondered whether the huge ma.s.s would topple.

Cras.h.!.+ There was a sharp sound as if a cannon of small calibre had been fired, and a mighty tree a few yards away, fractured some feet from its base, came with a thud to the ground. Meinheer hid his face in his hands and groaned, while Johnnie rolled on the ground in terror.

"That was what I feared," shouted Mr Pepson, now quite calm. "There will be many more before the storm is ended. But I fancy we are safe.

They will not always fall so close to us."

d.i.c.k looked out into the jungle, his face calm and grave, though in his heart he felt terribly afraid. For this was something against which one could not battle. The storm would have its way whatever man might do, and to stand there utterly helpless, was trying. All round him he could hear the crash of trees. One fell even closer than the first, and caused him to step backward in alarm, for the mighty trunk was dropping directly towards him, sheering through everything that stood in its way.

It lopped the tops from half a dozen cotton trees, and brought two more cras.h.i.+ng through the forest with it. Then, as d.i.c.k thought that he and his companions must be destroyed, its branches became entangled in those of the tree which sheltered them. Again he felt the vast ma.s.s sway.

The trunk actually gave out a loud report as if it had cracked. But it was a veteran, and, thanks to its huge girth, was of unusual strength.

It stood its ground, and when d.i.c.k looked again there was the falling tree held up in midair, with its two victims with it. It was a marvellous escape.

"That is the worst, I should say," said Mr Pepson, coolly. "It was a narrow shave, I admit, but then I was expecting trouble. We are lucky, I can tell you, and you will realise the fact as we push on again. Ah!

here comes the rain. I fancy we may congratulate ourselves."

They had indeed every cause to be thankful, for their escape had been a narrow one. An hour later, when they emerged from the friendly shelter of the tree and struck out on the path once more, all realised this more fully. For hundreds of giants had fallen. Their trunks lay in every direction, many fantastically supported in mid-air, pillowed on the branches of their fellows.

"That is what one sees all along the coast," said Mr Pepson, turning his head, "and I am told that some of the caravan routes which pa.s.s through this forest toward the interior are often almost completely blocked by fallen trees. It is the weedy youngsters that tumble. They run up swiftly, as straight as a rod, till they overtop the veterans.

Then comes a gale, and owing to the nature of the ground and the little hold which their roots give them, they topple over. We've had a lesson, d.i.c.k. Keep out of forests in future when the wind blows."

A little later the party emerged into the open, and were delighted to find that there was a very wide clearing, the forest standing back on all sides for more than a mile. And in this s.p.a.ce the ground rose steeply, till its crest blotted out the view beyond.

"Rock," said Meinheer Van Somering, with a chuckle of delight. "Dad was ze report, I zink. We were told dad ze mine was well placed. I agree, Meinheer, for in zis coundry where zere is rock zere is gold."

At this moment a shout rang out in the silence, and a figure appeared on the crest of the rock.

"Our Dutch agent," said Mr Pepson. "He is coming down to us, and soon we shall be at the stockade."

Indeed, within a quarter of an hour the agent had joined them, making his way down the steep rocky hill by a path which was invisible from where they stood.

"Mein word!" exclaimed the Dutchman, as he stared at his agent and watched his agility as he leaped down the steep path. "If zat is ze only way do ze stockade, we shall be dead. Yes, I tell you, we shall die, for who could climb such a blace? Id is too steeb."

"And happens to be the nearest way," replied Mr Pepson, rea.s.suringly.

"Never fear, Meinheer, there will be an easier way down."

That the agent was glad to see some white men could not be doubted, for he rushed toward them with a shout, and commenced to greet Meinheer Van Somering volubly. Then he was introduced to the others, and shook hands with an eagerness which showed that for many a week he had had no one there with whom to practise the art.

"Glad to see you, gentlemen," he cried, in excellent English. "That am I, for it is dull here. When you get to the top I shall show you why.

You will see to the right and left trees in one dense ma.s.s. To the north and south there is the same. Nothing but trees, and the blue sky overhead. It becomes tiring. But now you are here and I shall have company. Come this way. We can go by the path which I have just followed, or we can skirt round the hill."

They elected to go by the latter path, for the steep ascent would have been too much for Meinheer. After an hour's walk they found themselves on the far side of the rocky highland, and there before them lay the stockade, high up on the side of the hill, and within an easy rifle-shot of the forest.

"Trust a man who has been in these forests before to choose the right spot," said the agent, as he pointed it out. "This is the windward side, and the stockade even under a hot sun is delightfully cool. There is little fever here, and one can cope with it. Mr d.i.c.k, you need have no fears for your health. The loneliness is the only thing which will trouble you."

"I have been thinking about that," answered d.i.c.k, "and I fancy I shall do something to distract my thoughts. Work in the mines or something of the sort. Perhaps help to improve the stockade and make it stronger."

The agent looked at him in surprise. "Stronger!" he exclaimed. "And why?"

"Because I fancy we might be attacked."

Our hero felt almost sure that there would be an attempt, for he had not forgotten James Langdon.

"Attack!" he said disdainfully. "The Ashantis will not harm us. They hate these Fanti men, and it is they against whom they war. They are out now with the intention of fighting. Trust King Koffee to keep them away from us, for if we were harmed, what would happen to the payments made to him? As to this fellow, James Langdon, I fancy I have met him.

You need not fear him, for he will never come so far. If he is in the service of the king of the Ashantis, he will be on the far bank of the river and miles from here. No, Mr Stapleton, there will be no need to strengthen the post."

By now they had entered the stockade, and found it to be composed of roughly sawn logs, trimmed with the axe. Here and there a small interval was left for rifles, though it was obvious that the designer of the place expected no trouble. In the centre was a log hut, thatched with long strips of bark, which were pegged down to the timbers beneath.

The windows were unglazed, but rough shutters cut from packing boxes were provided.

"Enter, gentlemen," said the agent, with some signs of pride. "You find yourselves in the salon, the smoking-room, and the bedroom of this house. It is only a rough shanty, sufficient to keep out the heat of the sun, and the rains, when they come."

"And a fine example of your work," exclaimed Mr Pepson. "Now, what of the mines? They are close at hand?"

For answer the agent led the way out of the stockade and down the far side of the hill till the party came to the level ground. And here it was seen that a stream flowed, and lost itself a little way on in the forest.

"Everything is nicely within reach," said the agent. "You will find that the men work in couples, and as there are twelve of them, there are six shafts open. We will go to them."

They ascended a small rise in front of them, and presently saw some natives working. They were hauling up wooden buckets from the mouths of narrow shafts driven into the ground, and were depositing their contents in a larger receptacle close at hand. At the river-bank d.i.c.k noticed a number of troughs of native workmans.h.i.+p, and began to gather the method adopted by the natives in their mining.

"It is all very primitive," said the agent, "and no doubt we do not abstract all the gold from the soil. A large part gets washed away.

Still, considering our methods, we are doing well, and have already a good store of pure metal. Look into one of the shafts. Yes, continue to look till your eyes become accustomed to the darkness down there.

That is the man who is working in the tunnel. You can just see his back. He will call out when his bucket is filled, and his friend up here will haul it up. It is slow, but sure, and in time there is a quant.i.ty at the top. If the man below comes to harder soil, his friend goes down to the river and washes. If not, he hauls, and at the end of the day the two wash the gold from the soil which they have gathered."

"But how on earth does the man get down?" asked d.i.c.k, for he could see that the hauling tackle was too weak for such a task.

"That again is simplicity itself," was the reply. "You see that the shaft is barely four feet across. The man carries a kind of narrow spade with which he digs the ground. Well, he places that across the top of the shaft, and lowers his feet till they come to a niche on one wall. There it is. You can see it plainly. With his feet secure he leans back till his shoulders are against the far side of the shaft--in fact, till he is across the cutting in a slanting position. Then he releases the digger and lowers it, placing it in a similar position across the shaft. And so he descends, repeating the movement to the bottom."

"Primitive, certainly," agreed Mr Pepson, "and I think it can be improved upon. We have brought hand-winding gear with us, and they will alter matters. The fellow below can lower himself, or get his friend to do so for him. Then the labour of raising the soil will be lightened.

That reminds me. We have left our launch and the canoes at the landing-stage. What steps can we take to get our goods here?"

"We will become porters to-morrow," was the answer. "These Ashanti fellows are good tempered and willing if taken the right way, and you will find that they will undertake the task with pleasure. Leave it to me, sir."

That night the whole party lay down in the hut within the stockade. On the following day they returned to the river, and with the help of the natives had transferred all their belongings to the hut before darkness fell. But it was a more difficult matter to bring the winding gear through, and almost a week pa.s.sed before it was in position. By then d.i.c.k was beginning to feel that he knew something of the work, and even found that he could make himself understood by the natives.

"I shall have no fears for you when we leave," said Mr Pepson, one evening as they smoked their pipes outside the hut. "You hit it off well with the natives, and you understand their methods of getting gold.

You will store it, check the amounts they obtain, and pay them in gold dust if they require their money. If not, you will show them what they have earned, with the promise that payment will be made at any time.

The store of metal you will keep here. Have no fears for it. I don't believe any one will dare to interfere with you. Now for our movements.

I shall wait a little longer till this scalp wound is healed, and then Meinheer, our Dutch agent and I will return to the coast. We shall leave Johnnie and the launch with you, for you will need to send down for stores, and to deposit the gold, and we can return with as much ease by means of one of the boats. Our friend, the agent, tells us that the wind will be set down-stream, and that a sail will carry us to the sea almost as soon as would a propeller. From there to Elmina and Cape Coast Castle is nothing."

Accordingly, some three weeks later, the party set out, d.i.c.k pa.s.sing with them through the forest to the landing-stage. One by one they shook hands with him and entered the native boat. Meinheer Van Somering swept his hat from his head and gave a deep flourish and bow. Mr Pepson smiled his encouraging smile, while the agent busied himself with the sail.

"Push off!" sang out the leader, and at the shout d.i.c.k sent the boat out into the stream. Her head was pointed down towards the river Pra, her sail filled, and within a minute d.i.c.k was alone in the forest. His duties had commenced, he was now sole agent for the gold-miners, the only white man in that part of the African forests. He turned on his heel, saw that the launch and the other boats were firmly secured to the bank, and went off with his head in the air, whistling cheerily.