By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Ashanti war, 1873-1874 -- Juvenile fiction
This was said as, after having fixed upon a boat and literally fought
their way into it, they were rowed towards the shore. On landing Frank
was delighted with the greenness of everything. The trees were heavy
with luxuriant foliage, the streets were green with grass as long and
bright as that in a country lane in England. The hill on which the
barracks stand was as bright a green as you would see on English slopes
after a wet April, while down the streets clear streams were running.
The town was alive with a chattering, laughing, good natured, excitable
population, all black, but with some slight variation in the dinginess
of the hue.
Never was there such a place for fun as Sierra Leone. Every one was
brimful of it. Every one laughed when he or she spoke, and every one
standing near joined freely in the conversation and laughed too. Frank
was delighted with the display of fruit in the market, which is probably
unequaled in the world. Great piles there were of delicious big oranges,
green but perfectly sweet, and of equally refreshing little green limes;
pineapples and bananas, green, yellow, and red, guava, and custard
apples, alligator pears, melons, and sour sops, and many other native
fruits.
Mr. Goodenough purchased a large basket of fruit, which they took with
them on board the ship. The next morning they started down the coast.
They passed Liberia, the republic formed of liberated slaves, and of
negroes from America, and brought up a mile or two off Monrovia, its
capital. The next day they anchored off Cape Palmas, the headquarters of
the Kroomen. A number of these men came off in their canoes, and caused
great amusement to Frank and the other passengers by their fun and
dexterity in the management of their little craft. These boats
are extremely light, being hollowed out until little thicker than
pasteboard, and even with two Kroomen paddling it is difficult for a
European to sit in them, so extremely crank are they. Light as they are
the Krooboy can stand up and dive from his boat without upsetting it
if he take time; but in the hurry and excitement of diving for coppers,
when half a dozen men would leap overboard together, the canoes were
frequently capsized. The divers, however, thought nothing of these
mishaps, righting the boats and getting in again without difficulty.
Splendidly muscular fellows they were. Indeed, except among the Turkish
hamals it is doubtful whether such powerful figures could be found
elsewhere.
“They would be grand fellows to take with us, Mr. Goodenough,” Frank
said.
“Yes, if they were as plucky as they are strong, one could wish for
nothing better; but they are notorious cowards, and no offer would tempt
them to penetrate into such a country as that into which we are going.”
Stopping a few hours at Cape Coast Castle, Accra, and other ports they
at last arrived at Bonny.
“It is not tempting in appearance,” Frank said, “certainly.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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