"Yo's no need for to worry, massa," sang out Johnnie, severely, as Dick
raised his head from his hands and looked along the deck anxiously. For
the fact that it was empty, save for the chief and himself and three
others, caused him sudden anxiety. "Yo's get de wind again, and Johnnie
see um all right. Wait dar! Back um! Yo black boy ober dar, swing um
round so!"
He was in the well where the engine lay, and as he gave the orders Dick
saw by the light of the furnace that he had shut off steam. Then he
waved to the man at the helm, and the launch gently fell across the
stream. And there she lay, shrouded in darkness, and hidden from the
sight of the pursuers by the bank round the angle of which they were
congregated. But whether they could see her or not, the enemy answered
James Langdon's shout with a volley from their muzzle-loaders.
"That's um. Fire away, you debils. See some fun soon. See what
Johnnie and his broders do. Listen to um cussin'."
He roared with delight, for, as the reports of the scattered volley
subsided the voice of James Langdon again came to the ear.
"Wade in!" he called out in the Ashanti tongue. "It is only a stream,
my brothers, and in that way we shall have them. They must not escape.
They have all the gold with them."
"Yo watch!" said Johnnie, suddenly, as a series of loud splashes told
that the enemy were attempting to carry out the movement. "You see fun
now, massa. Hi, yo black boys! Fire de rifle."
It was laughable, ridiculous, but very wonderful after all, to see
Johnnie there, giving commands in his quaint English, commands which
could not be understood by a single one of the miners. And yet this
little stoker had a head on his shoulders, and had shown that he was
deserving of much trust. For if he did not know the Ashanti tongue, by
means of many jerkings of his arms and a huge amount of energy he could
explain his plans, and get the men to fall in with them. And now Dick
could see that he had made good use of the short time given him at the
launch.
He had had a clear half-hour, or a little more, perhaps, and in that
small space of time he had lit the fire, had stacked the bags of gold,
for they could be seen in the cabin, lying snugly under the light of the
furnace, and had made his arrangements for defence. He had posted his
men a little distance away, under the trees, just where they could cover
the enemy with their rifles. They were lying in the boat selected for
their transport, and in the bows one of their number cowered over the
small brass cannon. He had seen a gun before, that was evident, and his
eyes gleamed with excitement. He put an arm out, clutched a bough, and
moved the position of the boat ever so little. Then came Johnnie's
excited shout, a spout of flame burst from nine or ten rifles, and then
there was a short pause, followed by a flash, by the splutter of powder
at the vent, and then by an appalling crash as the gun went off.
"Put um helm ober, boy! Now give um little steam. Gently! Backum!"
Above the screams of the enemy, the hoarse bellows of those who had
escaped the rifle bullets and the buckshot with which the gun had been
loaded, for bags of these had been brought as likely to be the proper
form of missile, the voice of Johnnie could be heard.
"Back um! Now, yo black debil in bow, hook um on. Throw de painter!
Make up fast as wax. Now gib um steam. Go 'head. Gib um all she
know!"
It might have been rehearsed. It was marvellous to think that all this
had been arranged by a little fellow from Sierra Leone, employed as the
stoker and driver of a steam launch. Dick was dumbfounded. But by now
he was past expressing his feelings, and besides, he was so exhausted
that he could hardly speak. He saw, however, that the chief command was
in excellent hands for the moment, and, like a sensible fellow, he left
Johnnie to conduct the flight till he had his strength again. And so he
lay flat on the deck, listening to the shouts of the pursuers, getting
now farther and farther away, to the husky voice of James Langdon, as he
raced through the trees, and to the mutterings of the native at the
engine of the launch. Then he smiled, a grim smile of amusement and of
exultation, for he had conquered. He had won the fight, an unequal one,
to say the least of it, and here he was, thanks to the splendid fellows
who supported him, steaming away from the mine without the loss of a
single worker, with little to mourn for, and with sufficient gold aboard
to pay all wages, and leave a very handsome margin with which to
reimburse his employers for the burning of their few spare stores and
their stockade. In addition, there would be enough to give a fine
profit, and such encouragement that when things had quieted down and
James Langdon's account had been settled, the mine would be worked
again, and he, Dick Stapleton, would have certain employment.
"De beggar follow. Dey runnin' down in de trees. Berry well! We stop
dat. Yo boys, back dere. Get um guns ready."
"Tell your men to load and fire into the trees when my comrade gives the
command," said Dick, in the Fanti tongue, which all the Ashantis
understand. "Now, Johnnie, tell me what you want, and I'll pass on the
order. You will command till we reach the river."
"Tank you, massa," was the answer, as the little fellow swung round for
a moment, showing a smiling mouth and two rows of gleaming teeth. "You
watch, and see me gib dem pepper. Me gib dem fellows beans."
He cut the steam off just a little till the launch slowed down, and till
the Ashantis on the bank began to overhaul her. Meanwhile all aboard
the launch maintained silence. Then again the native stoker shouted a
command, and a hot musketry fire was poured into the forest. At the
same instant the launch started forward as if she had been hit, and with
the boat in tow went racing down the tributary. Nothing could stop her
now. Bullets and slugs whizzed overhead, and a few struck the deck and
the sides of the towing boat. But they could not arrest the flight,
while the pursuers might shout and bawl as they liked. The launch sped
on her way, causing the water to flood the muddy banks on either side,
and disturbing more than one of the loathsome monsters reclining there.
They came to a bend suddenly. She swung round it, dashed for an open
reach, and shot out into the stream.
"Well done!" cried Dick, rising to his feet, and taking his post as
leader again. "Very well done, Johnnie. You are a born commander.
Now, put out into midstream and send her ahead. How's steam, my lad?"
"'Nough to bust um, massa. Plenty steam and heap coal."
"Then keep her going while I talk to the chief."
He went right aft, to where the leader of the miners sat beside his
comrade, staring to either hand and discussing the flight with his
friend. Within six feet of them, at the end of the towing rope, lay the
boat, with ten men aboard her, all with rifles in their hands, eagerly
scanning the bank from which the last shots had come. Overhead the sky
was already distinctly lighter. The forest on either hand had receded
all of a sudden, while there were evident signs of coming day.
Every face aboard the two boats bore the same expression of contentment,
of pride, at the success of their efforts. There was even a sterner
look, as if many of the men would have delighted in another brush with
the enemy.
"Never fear," said Dick to the chief, "there will be more blows to be
struck yet. We have miles of river to traverse, and if the Ashantis are
on the war-path, it is more than likely that we shall have to run the
gauntlet of a few of them. What do you think, chief?"
"We shall meet them on the Prahsu," was the answer. "There will be more
trouble both for us and for the English chief. As for these others who
have just attacked us, they are beaten. They may cover their heads and
seek women for attack after this. Men will laugh at them. The two
hundred who are to follow will surely cut them to pieces if these remain
to tell the tale."
"Then we can take it easily now. We can reserve our coal, and prepare
for this other meeting, chief. Why should we not run down the stream at
night, or at least down that part known as the Prahsu?"
"The scheme is a good one," was the answer, "and for the white chief and
his servant it will be as well to act as you say. For us there must be
a different arrangement. Has our brother thought of the fate which will
come to men of Ashanti should they land on the far bank some miles down
this river? There the cowardly Fantis live, and with them we are
forever at war. They would kill us most certainly."
Dick had not thought of that before, and the news came as a shock to
him. If that were the case, and these miners from Ashanti would be in
danger lower down the river, where would they be safe? In Elmina?
"Then we shall have to part, I fear," he said, after some minutes'
thought. "The Fantis swarm lower down the stream, and though some might
be friendly, others would soon make an attack upon you. Where can you
go?"
"There are villages in our own country where we shall be secure, white
chief. Already the fighting men will have left, so that our coming will
not be noticed, and there will be none strong enough to harm us. Then,
as the warriors return, we can leave. When all is quiet we will go to
the mine and commence work again, for you will return?"
"I should say that we shall do that without a doubt," answered Dick.
"The gold obtained has been abundant, and my employers will come again
when the country has grown quiet. Perhaps this trouble will die down
rapidly, and we shall be back in a month or two."
"You may, and yet I doubt it, Englishman. This war has been the thought
of my countrymen for many years. They long to reach the coast, to have
their own town there, where they may obtain supplies and guns. Yes, we
know that, for we have listened to their talk. And besides, our
brothers are born to fight. In times of peace they have little to do,
and so it happens that we are forever quarrelling with those who live
near at hand. A few, like ourselves, are trained to mine, and the king
keeps us free from interference. We are necessary, for with gold the
king buys guns and powder, and in our country it is a law that every
nugget found goes to him as tribute. The dust belongs to the diggers,
while those who dare to conceal the nuggets, even if they be only as
small as the smallest bean, are taken to Kumasi and sacrificed. Thus,
as I said, we can return to the villages, and we shall be safe so long
as we can keep away from the war parties. For they will know that we
come from the mine, and doubtless the king, having declared that he will
fight the Fantis and the English, has given orders for all who worked
there to be slain or taken captive."
"And how do you propose to avoid these war parties?" asked Dick,
anxiously.
"In this way. We will steam on till we are clear of these cravens who
attacked us, and as the moon grows near we will tie up under the bank.
Then, if our white chief agrees, we will serve out the dust, each man
taking what is due to him. Then we will dive into the forest, and will
make for Kumasi. Trust us to keep away from the fighters."
"While I shall have to run down-stream alone and escape them if I can."
"We would gladly come with you," said the native, "but it would mean
death to us. If the white chief desires it we will come."
"No. I will go alone. You have done splendidly," said Dick. "You have
proved true and more than brave. I shall report that to our employers.
We will steam on for a little while, and then we will serve out the
wages. Later we shall hope to meet again at the mine."
Little did Dick guess that this river would be dyed in many places with
the blood of men ere the country was quiet again, and that the forests
and woods would echo to the cheers of British soldiers ere King Koffee,
the arrogant and bloodthirsty potentate of Kumasi, would consent to
withdraw his fighters. He did not know that even then telegrams were
speeding home to England, that the situation at Elmina and at Cape Coast
Castle was serious in the extreme, and that nothing but war and rumours
of war were in the air. Little did he dream that he was still within
the nest of a hornet, almost the only man of his colour still alive so
many miles from the coast. How was he to learn that thousands of
warriors were on the march, and that the forest paths were teeming with
men of Ashanti? It was enough for him to remember the danger from which
he had escaped. The memory of it, and of the successful defence and
escape, filled him with glee, and he looked forward to the brush which
he might have on his way down the Pra with a light heart which defied
all thoughts of failure.
Two hours later the launch ran in to the bank, and was moored under the
trees. Then the books showing the amounts due to the miners were
produced, for Dick had had the care of these, and had sent them to the
launch in one of the bags. There was a pair of scales also, and very
soon the portions were separated, four ounces of gold going to swell
each little heap, as a special reward for the manner in which the men
had fought. Then each of the heaps was sewn up in a piece of canvas,
and secreted upon the person of the owner. The remainder of the dust
was stored in the cabin again, and, that done, the launch put out from
the bank, and ran to the far side of the river. Then, with many a cheer
and shout, the Ashanti gold-miners--excellent fellows all, and very
different from their warlike brethren--stepped ashore, and made off into
the bush. Dick and Johnnie felt quite lonely when they had gone. They
pushed off into the stream and steamed away.
"Better leab um boat behind," said the native, suddenly, after some
minutes' silence. "Suppose hab to run, den boat hold um back. P'raps
mean um dead."
It was an excellent idea, showing again that there is wisdom to be found
in a native, and that Johnnie, for all his quaint looks and merry ways,
was a thinker.
"We'll do so certainly," said Dick, at once adopting the advice. "Look
for a spot where we can hide her, and which we can pick out again should
we require her. It must be on this bank, too, so we will keep within
easy distance."
It was not until an hour had passed that they hit upon a suitable place.
Then, at a nod from the leader, the launch swung in closer to the bank,
while Johnnie ran to the stern and drew in the painter. He ran the
native craft up alongside the launch, and hopped lightly into her.
Then, as Dick put the propeller astern--for the stream ran fairly strong
here--the native pushed off, and guided the boat into the shallows.
There was a massive tree there--a species of fern, growing to the height
of thirty or forty feet perhaps, and dropping its abundant spreading
foliage like an umbrella all round till the tips trailed in the water.
Johnnie pushed boldly in, and Dick could see the big fronds shaking.
Then he edged the launch closer in till her nose dipped under the
leaves, and he heard her grate against the side of the native craft.
"Got um fast front and back," sang out the native. "No move um,
whateber happen. She fill wid water, and not sink. Tree hold um up
nicely. Yes, and no one know um dere. Whole army pass, and neber
guess. Golly, massa, de berry place!"
"And one to find easily," answered Dick. "Now, hop along, and let us
get off. We've plenty of steam, and I think we'll put her hard at it.
The tales of these warriors of King Koffee make me uneasy, and I'm
anxious to get down to the coast."
Very soon Johnnie appeared from amidst the leaves, and they pushed off
into the stream till they reached the centre. And there they remained
throughout the day, reeling the miles off rapidly, for they had the
stream to help them.
"We'll keep on without a single halt right down to the sea," said Dick,
as he sat on the edge of the engine-well, eating a meal which the native
had just cooked. "We know there will be a moon, and now that the river
is broader we shall be able to see easily. We'll chance sandbanks, and
hope that none will come in our path. By to-morrow morning the natives
should be left behind, and we should be within reach of friends. Good
coffee, Johnnie. You are a capital hand at other thing besides making
war!"
The native stoker grinned his delight as he turned to face his master.
"When me so high me learn to cook," he said, with a merry laugh, holding
his hand out some three feet from the deck. "In my country de women and
de children see to de food while de men smoke and sleep, and get
strength for de fight."
"A queer way of getting up one's muscle," laughed our hero. "Just fancy
training for school sports, or a gymnastic competition, in a similar
manner! One would be rather soft, and hardly in the best condition."
"Dere where Johnnie learn to fight," went on the stoker. "Me go out
when me not yet a man, and in de first battle me kill an enemy. He rush
so"--he clambered from the well, and demonstrated the method of attack
with such energy that the launch rolled--"he make stroke at Johnnie's
head, and miss um mark, golly! by de inch. Den me answer. Me hit wid
all de strength wid um club, and he go whop! He fall dead on de ground.
Den me take um head, and shout de war cry."
He made another attempt to bring the last in reality before his master,
and set the forests ringing. Dick clapped a hand over his mouth, and
pushed him into the well.
"Steady, my lad," he said. "There may be an Ashanti army within hearing
of that call, and then what will happen? Spin your yarn if you wish,
but do it quietly. How's steam?"
A little abashed, but yet glowing with the memory of his victory, the
native stepped to the gauge and read off the pressure. Then he
shovelled a heap of coal from the bunker.
"Come night, and not see so well," he said. "Hab plenty ready to run
wid."
About three hours after that, dusk began to fall, and for a little while
the fugitives were compelled to lie in close to the bank of the river,
for it was densely dark. But the time passed pleasantly enough, for
Dick had his pipe alight for the first time since the previous day and
as he smoked it, watching the glow of the bowl, and looking across to a
similar glow proceeding from the clay gripped between the white teeth of
the native, his thoughts returned to the stockade. He went over all the
scenes again, his nearness to James Langdon, and the luck he had had
then. His successful attempt to reach the stockade, and the desperate
fight he had had on the way. And, later, the retreat, with all its
numerous incidents. He was still thinking of it when the moon came up
in all her splendour, flooding the river till it was almost as light as
day. And then, for the first time for many an hour, he looked at
himself, and was horrified. His hands were cut and scratched in all
directions, as doubtless was his face also. His clothes hung in ribbons
about him, while, by the stains upon the breast of his coat and upon his
shirt, one would have thought that he had been badly hit. But that he
certainly was not; and now he remembered how the wretch who had first
attacked him outside the stockade, had fallen under his own sword--
fallen against the one who struck the blow.
"Time to move," he said, springing to his feet. "Steady ahead. More.
Let her have it."
The native grinned. He wiped his hands with a piece of waste extracted
from his pocket, and then opened the throttle. And once he had the
launch moving at full speed he leaned back in contentment, watching his
master with one eye, while with the other he looked at the smoke curling
up from his pipe.
An hour later, as they swung round a bend in the river, and came into a
long, straight stretch, a cry of amazement escaped them. The water on
the left bank was black with native craft, while the hubbub of some
thousands of voices came to their ears. But that was as nothing to the
shouts which greeted the appearance of the launch when she came into the
straight. There was a deafening burst of shouting. Tom-toms and drums
were beaten in all directions, while the deep note of many a native
war-horn was heard. For crossing the stream was one division of King
Koffee's army, _en route_ for the Fanti country. And of this division,
amounting to some ten thousand men, not more than a tenth were on the
water, for there were insufficient boats within a radius of many miles
to carry more. The passage was being made by detachments, and the first
crossing had just commenced. That there were more of the warriors
ashore Dick quickly learned, for if there had been shouting from the men
on the water, the noise from the jungle was vastly more pronounced. And
then the firing commenced, though the launch was beyond the range of the
cheap, Birmingham-made guns owned by the natives. Still, the loud
reports issuing from the bush were sufficient to show what was
happening, while any doubt that there could possibly have been was set
at rest by the manner in which the surface of the river was struck and
thrashed by the bullets. They splashed in all directions, bullets
ricocheting and screaming, slugs and buck-shot of native manufacture
dropping heavily into the water, while the numerous pebbles which were
fired sank out of sight at once.
Dick smiled grimly, once he had overcome his first feelings of
consternation and astonishment. He stretched out from his position at
the tiller and caught up a rifle. Another movement and he had three of
the weapons at hand, for there was a good supply on board. And while he
held the tiller between his knees, he jerked cartridges into the
breeches. As for Johnnie, his mouth had opened in one vast expression
of astonishment as the natives came into view, and for an instant he had
changed colour under the dark pigment of his skin. Then, glancing at
his leader, and seeing how he was engaged, the little fellow gripped his
pipe the tighter and threw himself upon his shovel. The door of the
furnace swung open with a clatter, and Dick heard the grating of the
shovel on the narrow iron floor of the engine-well. A flash lit up the
stoker's figure, and Dick caught sight of a roaring fire, quenched a
second later with a mass of coal. Then a dense volume of black smoke
swept out of the low funnel and went trailing overhead till it merged
with the clouds and the trees. He glanced at the pressure gauge, and by
the help of the moon saw that it stood at sixty. Johnnie turned to it
also and pointed.
"Hab plenty more soon, massa," he said. "Make water bubble and fizz.
Boiler go bur-r-r-r-r wid de pressure. Chimney velly hot. Golly! Look
at um!"
"Time to think about a shot or two," answered Dick, quietly. "Get a
couple of rifles and some cartridges, and load. Keep them handy to the
engine. Then go on stoking. By the way, have we a fender aboard?"
"Big one forard, sar. Where hab him?"
"Right on the bows, rather low down. Slippy, my lad."
They had little time for chatter, and both knew it. The native crawled
on his hands and knees along the deck, and swung a large rope fender
over the bows, securing it on the very stem of the launch. Then he ran
back, and the furnace door swung open again. By now the steam pressure
had risen to sixty-four, and the needle was slowly jerking up. The
funnel vomited even more inky-black smoke, while flames and small
particles of coal flew into the air, the latter raining down on the
deck. Meanwhile the natives had not been idle, for after the first
shouts of surprise, and the salvo of bullets and slugs, the whole mass
of canoes had set off across the river to intercept the launch. The
consequent confusion can be well imagined. There were then screams and
shouts of anger. Boats became locked together, and Dick saw some of the
crews striking at one another in their rage and in their anxiety to get
clear of their neighbours, and have a share in the capture.
"That gives us a chance," he said. "If they had started from the
outside line there would have been no doubt about the issue. Now it's
touch and go. They may be lined across our way, or they may not.
Depends on the crews. As for their firing, I don't care a rap about it.
Those guns don't carry over-far, and from what I saw at the stockade I
should say that at a little more than a hundred yards one would only
experience a heavy blow. At fifty the slugs would penetrate. Hullo! I
don't like those beggars."
As he spoke there was greater commotion amidst the canoes, all of which
were now under weigh, while those on the outside, the river side of the
fleet, had broken clear of their comrades and were pushing for the
centre of the stream. This, however, was not what attracted Dick's
attention, and drew the remark from him. It was the sight of two native
craft of larger size which suddenly pushed from the shadow of the bank.
They were crammed to overflowing, and carried big crews, who knelt in a
line along each side. In the centre stood the warriors, shouting and
gesticulating, and fighting their way through the mob. Small
consideration did they give to those who were in their way. Dick saw
the warriors strike at their comrades with the butts of their firelocks,
and watched as more than on of the smaller craft was overturned. Then
he sat down and took up a rifle.
"A shot might help," he said quietly. "How's steam?"
Johnnie pointed to the indicator and looked proud.
"Hab plenty," he said. "Stoke um more and perhaps um bust. Plenty
steam in de biler."
"Then get your rifle, and aim at the rowers in the first of those two
boats. Don't leave her alone. Keep on all the while unless you have to
stoke again."
"Not want to. Hab plenty steam and big fire," answered Johnnie, with a
satisfied nod. "Not hab any more coal till half-hour. By den p'raps
not hab steamer."
"Perhaps," answered Dick, with a smile. "We're going to see to that.
Out with your rifle."
Still gripping the tiller between his knees, while he sat on the edge of
the well, he took a long and careful aim at the first of the paddlers,
the one who set the stroke to the boat, and pressed the trigger when the
sights were on him. Instantly there was a howl of rage, and the man
dropped back on to the rower behind him, while the whole lot came to a
halt. But it was only for a quarter of a minute. One of the warriors
who stood close by lifted the body and hove it overboard without
ceremony. Then he seized the paddle and thrust it into the water.
Crack! Dick's rifle broke the stillness which had followed the shout,
and the man who had just knelt crumpled into a mass, the same disorder
following.
"Five hundred yards I make it," said our hero quietly. "Give them a
full sight, Johnnie, and aim for the centre of the body. Ah! A good
one. I think you hit the side of the boat first, and then the man.
They don't waste time aboard those craft, and human life does not seem
to be over-valuable."
By now the launch and the fleet had sensibly decreased the intervening
distance, the latter making directly across the river Pra, while the
former raced down the centre of the river. It had become more than ever
a question of time, and the thought made Dick redouble his efforts. And
thanks to his shooting, the progress of the two war boats was greatly
delayed, his bullet singling out the leading paddler every time the
place was filled, till there was a panic in that part of the vessel.
Then suddenly an unexpected thing happened. The two aboard the launch
had taken little notice of the firing which still went on from the bank
and from a number of the canoes, and which was of greater danger to the
enemy than to them, for the range of the enemy's firearms was
inconsiderable. Now, however, a shot attracted their attention. There
was a louder report than usual, and a bullet of large size sped from the
fleet, and striking the funnel, bored clean through it, the puncture
being plainly discernible by the flames and smoke which instantly
emerged. Dick started forward, till he was stretched across the
after-well, the tip of the tiller in his hand, and almost at once there
was a second shot, followed by a heavy thud behind him, and finally by a
splash out in the river. He turned to find the tiller loose in his
hand, splintered by the missile, the fracture of the shaft having taken
place an inch or two in front of the slot cut for it in the rudder. The
steering gear was cut adrift, and as he looked at the shaft in his hand
the launch went off her course. She shot to the right, away from the
enemy, causing a scream of rage to rise from a thousand throats. Then,
as suddenly, she swerved to the other side, till those aboard her were
almost rolled into the water. She seemed to see the enemy before her,
for she took the bit in her teeth, and, with her propeller thrashing the
water behind her, went directly towards them, a bow wave splashing up on
either hand. And then the tone of the Ashantis changed. Whatever they
were, they were men of courage, and not to be frightened by a monster of
this sort speeding down upon them. They had, for the most part, never
seen a launch before, and those who had, had probably never seen one in
full flight. Yet they did not flinch. They stood in their boats, and
such a shout of triumph went up that the woods rang and rang again.
Then their guns opened with a vengeance, and a perfect storm of missiles
hurtled towards the launch. They did not stop her. She did not seem to
notice the bullets splashing on either hand and tumbling on her deck.
The launch had got out of hand, and as if she were tired of life and
roused to desperation by the pressure of steam which she carried, she
went on her mad course, rushing down to doom and destruction.