They said: ‘You shall not have any.’
‘We will take it, then!’
We prepared for battle; they did the same.
It was a very fierce encounter, but we conquered: killed ten, took the Chief prisoner, wounded five, and the remaining four retreated.’
The Chief was quite black and very tall; he had a fine countenance and the finest eyes I ever saw. We asked him what his name was, but he would not speak. We asked him the name of his country, and he said: ‘Ashantee.’
Next morning a party of twelve men came to our tents bringing with them a ransom for their Chief, and likewise a proposition of peace from their King. This we accepted, as it was on terms most advantageous to ourselves.
Immediately after the treaty of peace was concluded we set about building a city. The situation was in the middle of a large plain, bounded on the north by high mountains, on the south by the sea, on the east by gloomy forests, and on the west by evil deserts.
About a month after we had begun our city the following adventure happened to us:—
One evening when all were assembled in the great tent, and most of us sitting round the fire which blazed in the middle, listening to the storm which raged without, a dead silence prevailed. None of us felt inclined to speak, still less to laugh, and the wine-cups stood upon the round table filled to the brim. In the midst of this silence we heard the sound of a trumpet which seemed to come from the desert. The next moment a peal of thunder rolled through the sky, which seemed to shake the earth to its centre.
By this time we were all on our legs, and filled with terror, which was changed to desperation by another blast of the terrible trumpet. We all rushed out of the tent with a shout, not of courage, but fear; and then we saw a sight so terribly grand that even now when I think of it, at the distance of forty years from that dismal night, my limbs tremble and my blood is chilled with fear. High up in the clouds was a tall and terrible giant. In his right hand he held a trumpet; in his left two darts pointed with fire. On a thunder cloud which rolled before him his shield rested. On his forehead was written: ‘The Genius of the Storm.’ On he strode over the black clouds which rolled beneath his feet and regardless of the fierce lightning which flashed around him.