About five, while the parade was still going on, a Colonial messenger darted on to the parade ground, seized the commanding officer, and thrust a voluminous despatch into his hand. The latter cast a hurried eye over it, and instantly moved off with hasty strides towards a hammock that was waiting for him outside; calling out to his second in command that the parade was to be dismissed, but that no officers or men were to leave barracks. We knew then that something serious was the matter, and went and sat down by the fountain in front of the mess to wait for the news. At about 6 p.m., when our patience was nearly exhausted, an official appeared, panting and blowing up the hill. He came towards us, and said, in gasps: “Gentlemen--The fact is this, gentlemen. It’s simply this, gentlemen. Bloody wars, gentlemen--Bloody wars.” This was highly satisfactory, but did not enter much into detail, so we applied for more information. We then learned that King Mensah of Ashanti had sent the golden axe to the Lieutenant-Governor of the Gold Coast colony at Cape Coast, to demand the surrender of a fugitive; and, on the 24th, when the surrender was refused, had, through his ambassadors, declared war against the British. We heard further that the homeward-bound steamer was going direct to Madeira to telegraph the news to England, and that troops were to go down by the S.S. “Cameroon” next day. The Government of the Gold Coast had asked for three hundred and fifty men, but, as the entire garrison of Sierra Leone only consisted of four companies, that is a little over four hundred men, the authorities had decided that it would not be wise, on account of the Timmanees, to denude the Colony of troops to so great an extent, and about two hundred were to be despatched with stores and ammunition. Of course everybody wanted to be among the two hundred: the news had spread among the men, and a tremendous cheering broke out all over the barracks; they were delighted with the prospect of a brush with the Ashantis, and the band volunteered _en masse_. By 7 p.m. it was decided which companies were to go, and I found mine was one of the lucky ones: as we were to embark at 3 p.m. next day there was plenty of work to be done, while to make matters worse there was a dinner to be given that very night, and the guests would have to be looked after and entertained.