CHAPTER XV. — AXIM, THE GOLD PORT OF THE PAST AND THE FUTURE.
All the traveller's anxiety about the Known and apprehensions of the Unknown fell from him like a garment as, after passing the hummocks of Apollonia, his destination, Axim, [Footnote: The port lies in N. lat. 4º 52' 20" (say 5º round numbers) and in W. long. (Gr.) 2º 14' 45": it must not be confounded, as often occurs in England, with 'Akim,' the region north of Accra.] peeped up over the port-bow at dawn of the 25th of January.
The first aspect of Axim is charming; there is nothing more picturesque upon this coast.
After the gape of the Ancobra River the foreshore gradually bends for a few miles from a west-east to a north-south rhumb, and forms a bay within a bay. The larger is bounded north by Akromasi Point, the southern wall of the great stream; the bold foreland outlain with reefs and a rock like a headless sphinx, is known from afar, east and west, by its 'one tree,' a palm apparently double, the leader of a straggling row. On the south of the greater bay is Point Pépré, by the natives called Inkubun, or Cocoanut-Tree, from a neighbouring village; like the Akromasi foreland, it is black and menacing with its long projection of greenstone reefs, whose heads are hardly to be distinguished from the flotilla of fishing canoes. The lesser bay, that of Axim proper, has for limits Pépré and the Bosomato promontory, a bulky tongue on whose summit is a thatched cottage.
The background of either bay is a noble forest, a wall of green, the items being often 150 feet high, with branchless white boles of eighty, perpendicularly striping the verdure. The regular sky-line—broken by tall knolls and clumps, whose limits are rivulet-courses and bosky dells; thrown up by refraction; flecked with shreds of heavy mist
That like a broken purpose waste in air;
and dappled with hanging mists, white as snow, and 'sun-clouds,' as the natives term the cottony nimbus—is easily mistaken, in the dim light of dawn, for a line of towering cliffs.
The sea at this hour is smooth as oil, except where ruffled by fish-shoals, and shows comparatively free, today at least, from the long Atlantic roll which lashes the flat coast east of Apollonia. Its selvage is fretted by green points, golden sands, and a red cove not unlike the crater-port of Clarence, Fernando Po. The surface is broken by two islets, apparently the terminal knobs of many reefs which project westward from the land. To the north rises Asiniba ('Son of Asini'), a pyramid of rock below and tree-growth above. Fronting the landing-place is Bobowusúa, [Footnote: The Hyd. Chart calls them Suaba and Bobowassi; it might be a trifle more curious in the matter of significant words.] or Fetish Island, a double feature which we shall presently inspect. The foreshore is barred and dotted perpendicularly by black reefs and scattered diabolitos, or detached hard-heads, which break the surges. At spring-tides, when rise and fall reach at least ten feet, and fourteen in the equinoctial ebb and flow, it appears a gridiron of grim black stone. [Footnote: Not as the Hyd. Chart says—'rise and fall at springs six or seven feet.']
The settlement, backed by its grand 'bush' and faced by the sea, consists of a castle and a subject town; it wears, in fact, a baronial and old-world look. Fort Santo Antonio, a tall white house upon a bastioned terrace, crowns proudly enough a knob of black rock and low green growth. On both sides of it, north and south, stretches the town; from this distance it appears a straggle of brown thatched huts and hovels, enlivened here and there by some whitewashed establishments, mining or 'in the mercanteel.' The soil is ruddy and rusty, and we have the usual African tricolor.
The agents of the several Aximite houses came on board. We drained the normal stirrup-cup and embarked in the usual heavy surf-boat, manned by a dozen leathery-lunged 'Elmina boys' with paddles, and a helmsman with an oar. There are smaller surf-canoes, that have weather-boards at the bow to fend off the waves. Our anchorage-place lies at least two miles south-west-and-by-south of the landing-place. There is absolutely nothing to prevent steamers running in except a sunken reef, the Pinnacle or Hoeven Rock. It is well known to every canoeman. Cameron sounded for it, and a buoy had been laid by fishermen, but so unskilfully that the surge presently made a clean sweep. Hence a wilful waste of time and work. I wrote to Messieurs Elder and Dempster, advising them to replace it for their own interests and for the convenience of travellers; but in Africa one is out of the world, and receiving answers is emphatically not the rule.