Over the summit of the dense forest the faint notes came, sounding the last advance movement of the troops, and the knell of the blood-stained town of Kumasi. Dick and his men rose to their feet, skirted the marsh, and within ten minutes were in the town. The native guides led them at once to the quarter in which the prisoners were located. Nor were they too soon by any means. For Kumasi was gone mad. Thousands of figures fled through the wide streets to the forest beyond, while a party, some two hundred strong, told off for the purpose, no doubt, by King Koffee, were even then dragging the European captives from the prisons with the intention of conveying them to the temple of sacrifice.
“Charge!” shouted Dick, as he came in sight of the force, and at once, with a mighty cheer, the band of sailors and young officers broke into a run. And as they went, at an order from their leader, they pulled their triggers without lifting their rifles to their shoulders, sending a shower of bullets into the enemy. The Ashantis broke immediately and ran for their lives. Dick and his men at once surrounded the prisoners.
“Good gracious! The last of the prisoners! How did you manage to get away?”
Dick turned to find the very European who had spoken to him when a prisoner in Kumasi, and at once rushed forward to shake him by the hand.
“I cut my way out,” he answered, “and—well, here I am, while the troops are just behind us. We have beaten the Ashantis handsomely, and they are in full flight.”
“While we are safe, thanks to you,” replied the other, gripping Dick’s hand enthusiastically. “I heard the order given to those fellows who have just bolted. They were to take us to the execution hut and kill us. A pleasant prospect from which you have saved us! I thank you for all of my comrades and for myself.”
“Then there are four of you in all?” said Dick, as he counted the prisoners off and shook each by the hand.
“Five,” corrected the other. “The last is ill, poor chap. He lies over here in a hut set by itself. I will lead the way.”
Still accompanied by the sailors, the party of rescued prisoners crossed the street to a hut close to the swamp. And there, a mere skeleton now, after weeks of the terrible African fever, and lying on a bed of palm leaves, was Meinheer Van Somering, hardly recognisable, too weak and ill to speak.
There is little more to tell of Kumasi. Our troops marched in within the hour of Dick’s arrival and occupied the town. On the following day, King Koffee still failing to send in his messengers of peace, the place was burned to the ground, only three houses escaping.