"The march up to Kumassi was a weary, toilsome business, even in spite of the excitement and hope which buoyed the men up. What, then, can one say of the march down, when the same long depressing road had to be re-traversed by men whose spirits were now lowered by the deep disappointment they had suffered, and whose systems were gradually giving in to the attacks of the ever-present fever fiend? In truth, that march down was in its way as fine an exhibition of British stamina and pluck as any that has been seen of late years. For the casual reader in England this is difficult to realize, but to one who has himself wearily tramped that interminable path, heartsick and footsore, the sight of those dogged British 'Tommies,' heavily accoutred as they were, still defying fever in the sweltering heat, and ever pressing on, was one which opened one's eyes and one's heart as well.
"There was no malingering there; each man went on until he dropped. It showed more than any fight could have done, more than any investment in a fort, or surprise in camp, what stern and sterling stuff our men are made of, notwithstanding all that cavillers will say against our modern army system and its soldiers.
"To one fine young fellow—who, though evidently gripped by fever, still was doggedly marching on—I suggested that his kit was very heavy, whereat he replied, with the tight drawn smile and quavering voice one knows too well out here, 'It ain't the kit, sir! it's only these extra rounds that I feel the weight of.' 'These extra rounds' being those intended for the fight which never came. The never-ending sameness of the forest was in itself sufficient to depress the most light and cheerful mind, and thus it was a great relief at length to get to Mansu, where the bush begins to open out, and where there is more of the light and air of heaven. But the change is not altogether for the better. The forest, it is true, is gone, but the road is open to the sun, while the undergrowth on either hand is denser now than ever, and forms a high, impenetrable hedge that seems to shut out every breath of breeze. Acting on the experiences of the upward march, this portion of the road was now traversed by the troops by night, and consequently heat apoplexy and sunstroke were not encountered. But the string of loaded hammocks grew longer every day!"
With the despatch of Prempeh and his mother into exile the Ashanti Expedition practically came to an end, and Baden-Powell returned to England, having done a vast amount of pioneering work, kept a full journal, seen a king dance, made numerous sketches, and generally added to his store of knowledge of men and things. The powers that be gave him a brevet-lieutenant-colonelcy and a star for his pains, and then sent him off to his regiment in Ireland to resume his usual avocations of hard work and hard play.
Embarkation of King Prempeh.
THE MATABELE CAMPAIGN, 1896