On the 15th of May, about 3.30 p.m., there was a terrific hubbub all round the fort. Officers rushed on to the veranda to see what was the matter. Hundreds of friendly natives were streaming along the north road. “What is it, chief?” “Heavy loads of food coming in. Much eat! much eat--very good for belly!” In a few minutes the garrison saw a joyful sight: Major Morris leading in his troops from the northern territories--such a fine body of men, all wearing the picturesque many-coloured straw hats of the north. Some of the officers were on ponies. Oh, what shaking of hands! what delightful chatter! But they, too, had had to fight their way through several stockades, and some were wounded. “The arrival of Major Morris,” writes Lady Hodgson, “seemed to take a load off our minds. He was so cheery, confident, and resourceful, and seemed always able to raise the spirits of the faint-hearted.... But the large loads of food did not in reality exist: they had only brought enough to last a week; they had, however, brought plenty of ammunition.” Major Morris was now in command of 750 of all ranks, and he resolved to make a reconnaissance in force. They went after the rebels far from the fort, and whilst they were away fighting, the wives of the refugees were doing a slow funeral dance up and down the road, chanting a mournful dirge, their faces and bodies daubed with white paint. In spite of this appeal to their gods, many wounded were carried back to the fort. Many a weary day came and went; no strong relief came--no news. The natives were dying of starvation: some went mad and shrieked; others sat still and picked their cloth to pieces. It was bad enough for all. A rat cost ten shillings; all pets had been eaten long ago. Then it was determined that the Governor and Lady Hodgson and most of the garrison should try to force their way to the coast, as there were only three days’ supply of rations left. The 23rd of June was to be the day of departure. The Governor’s last words to the men left behind in the fort were: “Well, you have a supply of food for twenty-three days, and are safe for that period; but we are going to die to-day.” Captain Bishop was left in command of the fort, with a small force. From Captain Bishop’s report we learn that Major Morris had scarcely left Kumassi when he saw a band of Ashantis coming towards the fort from their stockade. They thought, no doubt, that the fort had been deserted, but the fire from two Maxims soon convinced them to the contrary. The refugees, who had built shelters round the walls, had all, with the exception of 150, gone away with the Governor’s column; but their empty shelters formed a pestilential area: over them hovered vultures--a sure proof of what some of them contained--and one of the first duties of the little garrison was to burn them up, after examining their contents.