TO describe in detail our long toilsome journey and the terrible hardships we suffered during the next two months is unnecessary. Suffice it to say that without means of barter, unarmed, and living upon fruit and roots, we tramped along that narrow path through the pestilential marshes and the great forests where no light penetrated through the thick foliage of the giant trees for several weeks, always due north and passing villages sometimes, until we crossed the Sene river, ascended the mountains beyond, and found ourselves upon a great level grass-covered plateau, which occupied us several days in traversing. At last we came to the border of Prempeh's kingdom, crossed the Volta river that wound in the brilliant sunlight for many miles like a golden thread among the trees, and soon entered the fertile country of the Dagombas, a wild-looking tribe who were allies of the great Naya. At Yendi, seven days' march through the bush from the Volta, we interviewed the Dagomba king and received a most enthusiastic welcome. Presents of food and slaves were given us, as well as a musket each, with some curious ivory-hilted knives, and we were treated as honoured guests of his sable majesty, who, Omar informed me, was indebted to the Naya for his royal position. This welcome was therefore only what we expected, nevertheless, our life during the few days at Yendi was of a very different character to the miserable existence we had experienced during our long march to the confines of Ashanti. But Omar was impatient to fulfil the commands of his mother, and we did not remain longer than was absolutely necessary, in order not to give offence to the king; however, one morning we snapped fingers with him and, with two hundred decidedly savage-looking men as escort, we moved away still due north on our journey to the mysterious land of the Great White Queen. The King of Dagomba had told me, in answer to my enquiries, that neither himself nor any of his men had ever entered Mo. The inhabitants were a very powerful and fearless people, he knew, and their soldiers were as numerous as an army of locusts. The men of Mo were an admirable race, he added, and although no stranger had ever been admitted to the mysterious realm, yet its power was feared by every West African ruler without exception.