Cape Coast--The Panic--The Golden Axe--Preparations for Defence--Ansah--A Divided Command--A Second Message from the King--Native Levies--Ordered to Anamaboe 207 CHAPTER XIII. A Teacher of the Gospel--Anamaboe--A Third Message from the King--Affairs in Coomassie--Downfall of the War Party--False Rumours--Arrival of the Governor--A Fourth Message from the King--Further Complications 227 CHAPTER XIV. Arrival of Reinforcements--Sanitary Condition of Cape Coast--Culpable Neglect--Meeting of Chiefs--The Messengers from Sefwhee--Expedition to the Bush--Its Effect upon the Ashantis 251 CHAPTER XV. A Trip to Prahsu--Mansu--A Fiendish Réveille--Bush Travelling--Prahsu--The King of Adansi--Masquerading Costumes--The Camp--Strength of the Expedition 267 CHAPTER XVI. Regulating the Sun--Arrival of the Ashanti Embassy--The Palaver--Ciceronian Eloquence--A Diplomatic Fiction--A Beautiful Simile--Physiognomies--Unhealthiness of the Camp 281 CHAPTER XVII. Another Interview--Atassi--An Importunate Investigation--A Shocking Accident--Yancoomassie Assin--Draggled Plumes--An Unintentional Insult--A Scientific Experiment--The Palaver at Elmina--Our future Policy--Recent Explorations on the River Volta 297 TOWER HILL BARRACKS, SIERRA LEONE, _November, 1882_. THE LAND OF FETISH. CHAPTER I. The Gambia--Bathurst--Jolloffs--Novel Advertisements--A Neglected Highway--False Economy--History of the Gambia--Musical Instruments--Burial Custom--Yahassu--St. James’ Island. My first visit to the Gambia took place in March 1877, from Sierra Leone. After two days’ steaming from the latter place we passed Cape Bald, with the two queer little Bijjals Islands in front of it, and sighted Cape St. Mary at the entrance of the river. On the high ground, at the point, could be seen the long low white building of the deserted barracks, and the tops of mangrove trees could be faintly distinguished above the level of the sea in the distance to the right and left as we entered the estuary; while, making a long sweep of two or three miles, we reached the Fairway buoy, picked up a pilot, and steamed up the river. Bathurst, St. Mary’s Island, does not appear to advantage from the anchorage. The island is low-lying and flat; in front is a row of staring white houses, with a few stunted silk-cotton trees and hearse-plume like cocoa-nut palms mounting guard over them, and--and that is all. The prospect was not inviting, but, hoping that it might prove better than it looked, I hailed a boat, and was pulled to the shore. On the way several curious Shiriree canoes, fashioned like crocodiles, and full of men, passed down the river. The bows were filled with wooden idols, and in each canoe was a man beating a tom-tom, and howling some monotonous ditty in a minor key.