CHAPTER XVII. — THE RETURN—VISIT TO KING BLAY; ATÁBO AND BÉIN.
I spare my readers the slightest description of the troubles that attended our departure from Axim on January 31. Briefly, we began loading at dawn and the loads were not headed before 10 A.M.
The black caravan, or rather herd, was mustered by its guide and manager, the energetic W. M. Grant. His personnel consisted of seven Kruboys from Cape Palmas and forty-three Axim carriers, who now demand eight and sixpence for a trip which two years ago cost a dollar. They stray about the country like goats, often straggling over four miles. As bearers they are the worst I know, and the Gold Coast hammock is intended only for beach-travelling. The men are never sized, and they scorn to keep step, whilst the cross-pieces at either end of the pole rest upon the head and are ever slipping off it. Hence the jolting, stumbling movement and the sensation of feeling every play of the porters' muscles, which make the march one long displeasure. Yet the alternative, walking, means fever for a new comer. On return we cut long bamboos and palm-fronds and made the Krumen practise carrying, Hindu-fashion, upon the shoulder.
The rest of the moving multitude was composed of the servantry and the camp-followers. One bouche inutile bore a flag, a second carried a gun, and so forth, the only principle being to work as little as possible and to plunder all things plunderable. There were exceptions. Joe (Kwasi Bedeh) of Dixcove, Cameron's old servant, who boasts of being a pagan, and who speaks English, French, and Dutch, a handy and intelligent young fellow, who can cook, sew, carpenter, or lead a caravan—in fact, can serve as factotum—and his accounts, marvellous to recount, are honestly kept. I should want no better servant in these coast-countries and in exploring the far interior. The cook, 'Mister Dawson,' of Axim, is a sturdy senior of missionary presence: having been long employed in that line, he wears a white tie on Sundays, and I shrewdly suspect him of preaching. A hard worker, beginning early and ending late, he is an excellent stuffer of birds and beasts, and the good condition of our collection is owing entirely to him. His son, Kwasi Yau (Sunday Joe), is a sharp 'boy' in the Anglo-Indian sense. The carpenter, our model idler, who won't work and can't work, receives 3l. per mens., when $8 should be the utmost; we cleared him out on return to Axim. Meanwhile he saunters about under an umbrella, and is always missing when wanted for work.
Our companions and body-guards are Bianco and Nero, both bought by Cameron at L'pool for a suspiciously trifling sum. The former is a small smooth-haired terrier, who dearly loves to bark and bite, and who shows evident signs of early training in the cab-line. A dog with all the manners of a doggess, he eventually found a happy home in the fort, Axim. The second, a bastard Newfoundland with a dash of the bloodhound, and just emerging from puppyhood, soon told us the reason why he was sold for a song. That animal was a born murderer; he could not sight a sheep, a goat, or a bullock without the strongest desire to pull it down; therefore he had been sold into slavery, African and old-English fashion, instead of being hanged. He had fine qualities—obedience, fidelity, affection, a grand voice, and a ferocious presence. All these good gifts, however, were marred by an over-development of destructiveness. He survived his journeys by passing many of his hours in the water, and he was at last 'dashed' to Dr. Roulston, of Tákwá.
We took once more the northern road to Brévia, or 'Stink-fish Town,' and crossed its tongue of red clay bounded by the bed of the Anjueri stream. Here again appeared a large block of greenstone deeply grooved by the grinder. Thence we debouched upon the surf-lashed shore, tripped over by the sandpiper and the curlew and roped by the bright-flowered convolvulus. Streaks of the auriferous black sand became more frequent and promising as we advanced.
We ran close to Akromasi, or One-tree Point, upon whose flat dorsum linger the bush-grown ruins of a fort. It was named Elisa Cartago by its founders, the Portuguese, who were everywhere haunted by memories of the classics. Bowdich [Footnote: Folio, p. 271.] is eminently in error when he places the remains 'at the extreme navigable point of the river,' and opines that the work was built by Governor Ringhaven (Ruyghaver), buried at Elmina in 1700. He was misinformed by Colonel Starrenberg, a Dutch officer who canoed three days up the Bosom Prah River, a fact probably unknown to Commodore Commerell. Bosman [Footnote: Letter I. 1737.] shows 'Elisa Cartago op den Berg Ancober,' crowning the head of Akromasi Point, with a road leading up to the palisades which protect the trade-houses. Lieutenant Jeekel, [Footnote: Map of the former Dutch possessions on the Gold Coast (districts of Apollonia, Azim, Dixcove, Sekondi, Chama, and El-Mina), by Lieut. C. A. Jeekel, Royal Dutch Navy. Lithographed at the Topographical Depôt of the War Office, Major C. W. Wilson, R.R., Director, 1873. It extends only from the Ebumesu to the Sweet River (Elmina) and up the Ancobra valley; and it is best known for the seaboard.] an excellent authority, also places it at the river-mouth. According to some it was taken in early days by the French, who still hold it. Captain Ellis has transferred to this site the story of Fort Eguira, an inland, or rather up-stream, work, destroyed, as Dr. Reynhaut and others tell us, in an 'elendige manier' (a piteous way).
The gallant Mynheer commanding fought the natives till his men were shot down, after using 'rock-gold' (nuggets) for bullets. He rolled sundry powder-barrels under the palaver-hall, and stationed there a boy with a match to be applied when he stamped on the floor. He then flung open the gates, hung out a flag of trace, and invited the bloodthirsty savages, who were bent on killing him by torture, to take the hoard of gold for which the attack was made. When all crowded the great room he reproached them with their greed of gain, gave the sign, and blew them and himself into eternity. I am told by a good authority that the natives, whose memories are tenacious on some points, will not show to strangers the ruins which cost their forefathers so dear.