The boats were but fifteen yards from the bank. When they were abreast Ammon Quatia shouted the word of command, and a stream of fire shot out from the bushes. In the boats all was confusion. Several were killed and many wounded by the deadly volley, among the latter Commodore Commerell himself, and two or three of his officers. The launch now attempted to turn round, and the marines in the boats opened fire upon their invisible foes, who replied steadily. In five minutes from the first shot being fired all was over, the launch was steaming down with the boats in tow towards the mouth of the river, the exulting shouts of the natives ringing in the ears of those on board. The position of Frank had not been a pleasant one while the fight had lasted, for the English rifle bullets sang close to him in quick succession, one striking the tree only a few inches above his head. He was doubtful, too, as to what his fate would be at the termination of the fight. Fortunately Ammon Quatia was in the highest spirits at his victory. He ordered Frank to be at once unbound. “There, you see,” he said, “the whites are of no use. They cannot fight. They run with their eyes shut into danger. So it will be if they attack us on the land. You were foolish. Why did you wish to call out? Are you not well treated? Are you not the king's guest? Am I not your friend?” “I am well treated, and you are my friend,” Frank said, “but the English are my countrymen. I am sure that were you in the hands of the English, and you saw a party of your countrymen marching into danger, you would call out and warn them, even if you knew that you would be killed for doing so.” “I do not know,” the Ashanti said candidly. “I cannot say what I should do, but you were brave to run the risk, and I'm not angry with you. Only, in future when we go to attack the English, I must gag you to prevent your giving the alarm.” “That is fair enough,” Frank said, pleased that the matter had passed off so well, “only another time do not stick me upright against a tree where I may be killed by English bullets. I had a narrow escape of it this time, you see,” and he pointed to the hole in the trunk of the tree. “I am sorry,” the Ashanti general said, with an air of real concern. “I did not think of your being in danger, I only wished you to have a good sight of the battle; next time I will put you in a safer place.” They then returned to the camp. The next day a distant cannonade was heard, and at nightfall the news came that the English fleet had bombarded and burnt several Elmina villages at the mouth of the Prah. “Ah,” the general said, “the English have great ships and great guns. They can fight on the seaside and round their forts, but they cannot drag their guns through the forests and swamps.” “No,” Frank agreed. “It would not be possible to drag heavy artillery.”