Every negro proceeded to dress himself in each article of clothing as he received it in exchange. One was seen walking about the decks as proud as Lucifer, in a perfect state of nudity with the exception of a marine’s cap. Another put the trousers over his shoulders like a lady’s shawl, and several had jackets on hind part before. From Grande Jack we went to Grand Bassani, but the surf ran too high to allow our boats to proceed over the bar up the river. [Sidenote: Oct. 18.] Bassani is a large and populous town, situated about ten miles up the river, its trade principally gold-dust and ivory. On the arrival of any vessel to open a trade with the natives, it is customary to give the Chief what they call a _dash_, which is a present of part of everything you have on board. No Chief ever neglects coming on board for his _dash_, and without which little or no trade is carried on. Grand Bassani was the first place from Cape Palmas where a landing is effected by Europeans, and then it can only be accomplished in the canoes of the natives, about once in eight or nine days. From Grand Bassani we proceeded along-shore, passing the mouth of the Assine River, out of which the fresh water was rushing with considerable violence. This river separates what is called the ivory from the gold country, although both these articles are to be obtained on either coast, to the eastward of Cape Appollonia. [Sidenote: Oct. 19.] We passed the town of that name, and in which stands an old British fort, now abandoned, the first stone-and-mortar building we had seen since leaving Sierra Leone. [Illustration: _A Factory._] In the afternoon passed Axine, where there is a pretty-looking fort, on which the Dutch flag was flying. In the evening we anchored off Dixcove, where by a ledge of rocks is formed a snug little harbour. The rollers occasionally run in, but the surf seldom breaks across the entrance, about ten yards wide, and close under the fort, on your right going in. The boatswain, however, managed to get himself and two Kroomen capsized in my canoe. [Sidenote: Oct. 20.] The fort, mounting 16 guns, stands on a rocky point, commands the town, which, although it owns a King as well as a village a few miles distant, the people call themselves British subjects, and are ready, but not anxious, to fight for their governors. We can scarcely interfere with their laws, except to put a stop to the barbarous practice of sacrificing human beings. The natives, who belong to a race called Ashanti, are inoffensive, superstitious, and idle. I noticed a very decent-looking native--one of the _cabocees_ or elders of the town--who had come to the fort to ask permission to bury a woman alive, for being, as he alleged, a witch. On inquiry, the Governor discovered the man had already done so the previous day. He was in durance vile, awaiting the decision of the Resident at Cape Coast, under whose authority are all the British forts along the coast.