Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.Besiegers and Besieged.It was intensely dark in the clearing, as our hero struck into it, but by contrast with the shadows in the depths of the forest it was light, so that he could see a few feet before him. He could distinguish vaguely the outline of the rocky crest near the summit of which the stockade was posted, and beyond it and to one side the dull black band of the encircling forest. In one direction there was a faint glimmer in the sky, the herald of the rising moon, while a glare rose above the stockade, not intense, to be sure, but sufficient to tell him that a fire was burning there.“Then they are not alarmed,” he whispered, in tones of delight. “They are cooking their evening meal, which reminds me that I am hungry and thirsty, too. I must move on. Hullo!”He fell like a stone, and lay with his body pressed close to the ground, for his ear caught a sound, and his eye detected a figure on his right. In that semi-darkness it looked huge and weird in shape, and might have been an ox or any other animal. But the low tones of men talking showed him that it must be the enemy, and caused him to grip his sword with extra determination.“Hoot! Hoot!” Once more he heard the call of the night owl, the same cry as had awakened him when ascending the Pra, and which had aroused his suspicion. It seemed certain that this was the signal commonly used by the Ashantis, just as it had been for many and many a year by the Red Indians of America. “Hoot! Hoot!”The call was repeated, and almost at once, from a point but a few yards nearer to the stockade, came the answer, “Hoot! Hoot!” Then the men advanced, and halted close to their comrade, while a few words of direction passed. Dick could with pleasure have dropped through the earth, so great was his dismay and consternation. Then he could have shouted with delight.“Just a bit of sheer good fortune,” he thought. “Here was I advancing right on to one of the enemy, and these fellows gave me a warning. Very well. The hoot of the owl is the signal, and why should I not make it? Why should I not follow these beggars on their rounds? They will be visiting the sentries, and I shall then know where all are. I will go a little way with them, and then slip through between two of the men.”It was a brilliant idea, and he set about carrying it out at once. He lifted his head and kept watch on the natives, while he listened to their conversation. Not that he could hear the words, for these men were experienced warriors, and they knew that a whisper carried far on such a still night. They conversed in the lowest of tones, and then moved on. “Hoot! Hoot!” The weird call again broke the silence, and was responded to. Then the native chiefs who were going the rounds moved on, and after them crept Dick, as silent and stealthy as a snake, one hand placed before the other, groping the ground to see that it was clear of twigs or other material which might betray his presence. Then the other would follow, and afterwards his knees would be drawn up beneath him, and he would repeat the whole process. “Hoot! Hoot!” There it was again. A third sentry had been approached, but Dick could not see him even though he was so close.“Which shows me clearly how difficult the task is,” he thought. “But for those fellows going the rounds I should have walked right on to this batch of sentries, and then there would have been a row. Hullo! Some one else is on the alert.”He could have laughed, for as the natives went on their way and repeated their signal, the Ashanti miners in the stockade must have carefully listened. Then they thought they espied the enemy, standing against a piece of open ground which happened to be exceptionally light in colour. Suddenly a single shot rang out, the detonation startling every one, and making our hero jump. For a single instant the stockade became outlined, and Dick thought he saw heads peeping up above the baulks of timber. Then all was darkness again and silence, save for the hoot of the native chief and the answer of the sentry.“Time to be moving on,” thought Dick. “I have barely half an hour in which to reach friends, and now is my opportunity. These fellows here will have their attention distracted by the call of their comrades going the rounds. I may manage to get through. In any case I shall chance it, and if I am discovered I shall make a dash for the stockade. I suppose I shall have to run the chance of being shot, for how can my own men know that I am not one of the enemy? That also I must risk. Anything better than to be out here alone.”Inch by inch he made his way across the open in the direction of the hill, his eyes turning from side to side, while he halted every minute. He was quite cool now. The imminence of his danger, the knowledge that there were enemies very near and on either hand, seemed to have braced his nerves. His heart had ceased to thump like a sledge-hammer against his ribs, while he could no longer feel his pulses beating and throbbing till it was almost painful. He had need of every faculty, of coolness and courage, and he did not mean to throw away a chance. Hush! A man, the sentry on his right, sat up suddenly, and as Dick crouched he could see that the fellow was listening. He had heard something which had aroused his suspicions, and with all the keenness of a native for the chase he would probe the matter to the bottom, he would not be satisfied to rest till he had cleared up the mystery. “Hoot! Hoot!” He sounded the signal, and for an instant our hero’s heart failed him. Should he answer? Was he seen?“Yes, I believe he has heard me,” he thought. “He wonders who I am. I will answer. Hoot! Hoot!”In very low tones he gave the call, and waited eagerly for what was next to happen. Then he gave vent to a sigh of relief. The man was deceived. He took this other figure for a comrade, and imagining that he was too close, and that the circle would be too open on the farther side, he rose to his knees and crawled to the right, till he was out of sight and hearing. After that Dick waited no longer. He crept forward, stealthily and slowly at first, till he was yards nearer the stockade. Then he increased the pace till he judged that he was clear of the inner line of sentries, and almost within hailing distance of his friends. But still he would not neglect the precautions he had decided were necessary.“I feel inclined to jump to my feet and make a bolt for it,” he thought. “But no, that wouldn’t do, and I might easily be shot from the stockade. Slow and sure, said the tortoise, and I’ll stick to the motto.”None but those who have been placed in a similar position can fully appreciate the temptation to which he was put, the huge desire which took hold of him to rise to his feet and run. Dick felt as the man does who is in full view of the rifles of unscrupulous marauders, without cover for many yards, uncertain whether to expect a hail of bullets or not. A sense of dignity, the feeling that it would not be courageous to run, holds one steady; but the temptation is there. There is a queer little feeling in the small of the back, and if one does not run, and conquers the temptation to act as a craven, one longs to look round, to make sure that no violence is about to be attempted. That was how our hero felt, and who will blame him? He was so near a refuge and friends now, and seemed clear of the enemy. It would be so easy to run. However, he stuck to his motto, and, still remaining on his knees, slowly crept closer to the stockade.Hist! Something caught his ear, and he sat down to listen for some minutes till he felt sure that he was mistaken. Then he crawled on again, till of a sudden he swung round, and, with a cry of dismay, leaped to his feet. There was a man following him, a figure bent almost double, silently coming up with him. Had he but known, it was the identical sentry whose signal he had answered and who, still suspicious, had returned on his tracks. He was within three yards when Dick saw him, and the cry had hardly left his lips when the man was upon him.With all the ferocity of a tiger he leaped at his enemy, native sword in hand, and as the fingers on his left hand closed on Dick’s shoulder, the murderous weapon swooped upwards in a stroke meant to transfix his body. But again the white man had good fortune. His guardian angel seemed to be on the watch that night, for the point caught the sling of his rifle, and turning aside the whole blade flashed beneath his arm till the hand which held it came with a thud against his side.“Dog!” shouted the man, thinking he had accomplished his purpose.Dick made no answer. He knew that if he did not hold that arm which gripped the sword he was as good as dead, and quick as lightning he took the only step to retain it. As the blade flew beneath his arm, and the man’s hand crashed against his side, he brought his own arm down, jamming the native’s hand there. Then he shook his hand from his shoulder, and lifting his own blade, plunged it with all his force into his enemy’s breast.Hardly had the man fallen at his feet, when a series of shouts rang out, rifles blazed from the stockade, and ere he could move half a dozen natives were upon him. For Dick had made one miscalculation. He had forgotten that he was dealing with men who were from their youth trained as warriors, men accustomed to the trail, to forest warfare, and to every form of artifice. He had not recollected that these Ashanti fighters had the acutest hearing and phenomenal sight, and he, a mere white man, accustomed to city life, had imagined that he could creep through them. Bitterly was he mistaken, for one had first suspected the presence of an enemy and had then followed, while a comrade, discovering the fact in some subtle manner, had come on his tracks, five others following. Gradually they had gained on the chase, so that when Dick struck their leader down the rest were almost on him. Again there was a shout, taken up by a score of voices around the clearing, and in a second a fierce hand-to-hand contest had commenced.“The white man! The white man! Take him alive! Do not kill him!”It was James Langdon’s voice, coming from close at hand, for the news that some one was astir had been sent to him and he had followed.“I give you all warning. Do not slay him, if you value my friendship.”It was a fortunate thing for our hero, but not so for the natives. Flinging their arms aside they sprang forward to bear him to the ground. But if they had orders not to harm him, he had no scruples in killing them. The fear of captivity and of its consequences was before him. He struck out blindly with his sword, and when that was jerked from his hand he opened fire with his revolver, his shots punctuating the shouts of his opponents. But it was a one-sided engagement, and the darkness was against his chances. Already he had almost been borne to the ground by a huge native, who had leaped on his shoulders. But a sudden turn, the shortening of his pistol arm, and a quick and effective shot, had relieved him of the burden. Then two of the enemy had snatched at his legs, while a third aimed for his back, and missed it by the merest chance. He was about to spring again, while others were there now prepared to take his place should he not succeed. Dick was helpless. He had fired his last cartridge, and though he used the butt of the revolver and his fist, he was already outmatched. The end came quickly. The native behind him caught his rifle in both hands, and then put out all his strength. Dick lost his balance, and dragged by the sling was soon in a heap on the ground.“Captured! We have him! Tie his legs and carry him off before the other dogs can come!”There was such a hubbub that the words were hardly heard; but the Ashantis knew what was required of them. They slipped a noose over his hands and shoulders, and were drawing it tight when there was a rush of feet in their direction.“Dere! Dey here. Come long! Fire!”Dick could not believe his ears. He was already being dragged away, when Johnnie’s voice broke upon his ear. Then a number of dark figures burst in upon his captors, and a fierce conflict began.“Here I am. This way!” he shouted, as he struggled with the enemy. “Here! Over here!”The gallant fellows from the stockade raced after him, Johnnie being at their head. In his hands he held a rifle, and without doubt it was his frantic wielding of this weapon which saved the situation. With a crash the stock fell upon the head of the native who had hold of our hero, causing him to fall. Another movement and the same fate overtook another. There was a scream of alarm, a few heavy blows struck by the knives of the men, and Dick was free, unharmed, and in their midst, boiling over with gladness and exultation. They picked him up as if he had been a child, and bore him in triumph to the stockade.“Bang de door,” said Johnnie, taking upon himself the command of the station. “Now, yo men, jest put de massa down—so. Not throw him down, silly!”Utterly oblivious of the fact that the Ashanti gold-miners could not understand, he gave his commands in a tone of comical haughtiness which at another time would have caused Dick to roar with laughter. This was, indeed, a new side to Johnnie’s character. But our hero was to learn more.“Now man de walls, and shoot dem debils down,” shouted Johnnie, taking his rifle and running to an aperture. “Dat so. You quite understand. Den me see to massa.”He was delighted to have him back, safe and sound, and stood there wringing his hand till it seemed that he could never stop. However, Dick was a practical fellow, and it was a long time since he had been in the stockade.“Food and something to drink, Johnnie, like a good fellow,” he cried. “Run along and see what you’ve got, while I take a look outside. Now,” he said, when he had reached the walls and had discovered the position of the chief of the miners, “what is your report? Any sign of them?”“They have gone back to their posts. We knew that they were watching, and we almost expected an attack. We were looking for you too, chief. You can leave us to guard the place till you are ready to come back to the walls. Go and eat, for you must be hungry.”Dick undoubtedly was, and fell to eagerly upon the good things which were placed on the folding wooden table in the hut. For Johnnie was general caterer as well as stoker, and in addition, it seemed, commander of the post at a pinch. He placed a bottle of water near at hand, some yams, and a cut of tinned beef, and on these our hero fell.“Yo’s make de most of dem water,” said Johnnie, as he watched his master drink, for it had been a hot day, and never a drop of fluid had Dick been able to touch. “Make de most of him, for dere little more. De jars nearly dry, and where we fill dem again? So drink him to the velly bottom.”“What! No water in the place! Run out already!”No wonder that he was again dismayed, for Dick had such a young head upon his shoulders that he could not be expected in a matter of a couple of months or more to correct all the faults committed by his predecessor. True, the site of the stockade was excellent in nearly every respect, for it commanded a wide, open space on every side, and could not be fired into from the crest above. It boasted a moderate amount of shade, for there was a small group of trees within the compound, and in addition, it enjoyed a delightful breeze, which kept it cool, and drove the fever away. It had its failings, however. It could not stand a siege, for the simple reason that it was perched well up above the stream in which the gold was washed, and there was no well. A store of water was carried up every day, and that store had disappeared with rapidity since the miners had taken post at the stockade.“I ought to have thought of that before. We should have had a tank or something of the sort,” cried Dick, with vexation, quite forgetful of the fact that the nearest point at which such a thing could be obtained was Elmina.“Yo’s dink him up and smack de lip,” said Johnnie. “No use make fuss now dat dere no water left. Hab to leave den, dat’s all. Get way into de forest.”“And meet these two hundred Ashanti warriors. No, thank you, Johnnie. Come, tell me how all this has happened. I was away in the forest, and thought I heard the alarm sounded. Then there were shots, and when I came to the clearing and could see, there were bodies lying around, and you were holding the enemy in check. I heard then that two hundred more are expected, and waited till a double ring was thrown round us. Then I came on. And that reminds me. It was a plucky rush you made, and just saved me. Thanks, very much.”“Noding, massa. We wait and we expect yo come. We guess you not seen by de rascal enemy, and we know yo not rush here when it light. De moon coming up. See um. Den we guess you come jest after it get dark. We get ready, and den rush. Simple as eatin’.”“And about the alarm?”“Not so simple,” was the candid answer. “Johnnie seem to tink dere trouble coming. Eber since he meet de Ashanti war men he say, ‘dere ruction ahead, dere goin’ ter be smash up of de mine.’ Johnnie look out from de hill when massa gone, every single day, and sit dere waitin’ wid de tom-tom. Lucky, too, massa, for we not hab velly much time. Me see black chap come out of de tree, and den dat half-white man who fight us before. Johnnie beat de tom-tom till all de miners hear. Den he run to the stockade and pick up de rifle. He see first one and den all de men racing in, and after dem de enemy. Dey rush right up to de gate. But Johnnie stop um.”The comical little fellow turned his eyes up to the moon and squinted at Dick. He threw his chest out, stood to his fullest height, and put on an air of dignity.“How?” asked Dick.“Like dis. De men run in de gate, and de last man bang um to and bolt um. Den we stand at the peephole and wait. Two of de rascal come runnin’, and Johnnie take good aim. Bang! When me look ’gain both lying on de face, dead’s muttin’.”“And you took command of the stockade?”“Y’s guessed right, massa. Me hold de reins. Me shout de orders, and de men brave and behabe demselbes. We fire slow and careful, same as massa tell us, and we still plenty cartridge left.”“And practically no water. That is the most serious news, and makes it impossible to remain for long where we are. How long will the moon be up, Johnnie?”“Soon down,” was the answer. “In four hour, I tink.”“Then we will consult with the chief. Fetch him along, Johnnie.”Dick strolled out into the compound, and having made sure that all was quiet and that the men were alert, he took his seat close to the gate, with Johnnie and the two chief miners beside him. It was a strange place and a stranger hour to have a meeting, and as remarkable, too, was the fact that Dick could only just make himself understood and gather the meaning of the natives, while Johnnie was useless at the task. Still, Dick was able to act as interpreter, for he could speak a little Fanti, and there is only slight difference between that and the Ashanti dialect. Tersely the young leader of the party told his news, how he had overheard the half-caste, and how two hundred Ashanti warriors were expected.“They will eat us up,” said the chief, with an involuntary shudder when he heard what Dick had to say. “They will pour like a river up to the gates of the stockade, and we shall not stop them. They will swarm over, and we shall be slain.”“While if we are successful during the day they would certainly succeed at night, chief. Then there is the question of the water.”The chief shook his head dolefully.“We are as good as dead,” he said, “and glad I am that one can meet with death only once. As well sally out now and end the matter.”“And be shot down like birds,” was Dick’s answer. “But I agree that the situation is serious. We should be better off were we out in the forest, for there we could divide and scatter. Again, we could make for the launch and steam down the river.”“If it were possible,” cried the chief, with a look of hope in his face. “But how to get away? These foxes close round us. They know that we are secure, for who could leave the stockade now?”“I got in safely, thanks to your rush. Why can we not get out again? Can you think of nothing? Come, man, we must make an effort.”But it was useless. The chief of the miners could make no suggestion. He and his men were ready to follow their leader to the death, and he could rely upon their courage. But they could offer no plan of escape. They came of a race noted for its ferocity and courage, a race trained to arms, but they were more inclined to the ways of peace.“Then I will tell you what I think,” said Dick, when many minutes had passed, and the four had stared silently at one another as they sat in the rays of the moon. “We agree that death waits for us here, whether by the knives of the enemy or by water famine. Then we must go. The question becomes when and how? I will tell you. We must distract the attention of these men, and this is how I propose that we shall do it. First of all, however, are there any here who can creep like a snake through the grass and so escape discovery?”The chief threw his head up proudly. “That is one of the first lessons we learned as boys,” he said. “There is not a man here who cannot do that.”“Then this is my plan. As we sit here, the launch lies straight over the crest of the hill where some of the enemy crouch. I believe that so far our boats are undiscovered, and that being so, the enemy will not expect us to take that direction, seeing that it is the roughest and the steepest. It would be natural for us to strike to right or left of the stockade, for the attack has been in the very centre.”There was a grunt of acquiescence as Dick paused to look at the chiefs.“Our chief speaks wisely for one so young,” said the leader. “But we know him now, and can expect good advice. Say on.”“We decide, then, to flee by way of the crest. Then we must make a demonstration in the opposite direction. We will choose that to our right, being the farthest from the crest. We will send out four of our best and most active men just after the moon disappears, with orders to get as close as possible to the enemy and then fire on them. These men will retire within five minutes, when they will be joined by more who also will fire. We will move swiftly from right to left and back again, and the men can be so disposed that there will be no danger of hurting one another. That should alarm the enemy, and, in any case, it will attract the attention of those in that quarter.”“They will take alarm and think that we are attempting to break through. They will call in all the men,” said the chief, with assurance. “I begin to follow your meaning.”“While the firing is going on two of our number who are accounted brave”—Dick noticed that the chief again tossed his head into the air—“will creep to the top of the hill and over it. They will be given a quarter of an hour to see that it is clear. They will not be satisfied till they have killed the sentries or shown that they are absent. Then one will return with the news.”“And the whole party will follow him,” burst in the chief, eagerly.“Hardly that,” said Dick. “They are still out in the open, and they must retire. Even then the ruse might be discovered if the firing were not continued. The enemy would suspect a ruse and would send out to intercept us.”“Then what is your plan, chief?” asked the native, his curiosity aroused to the fullest. “The men retire and keep up the firing, you have a man on the crest and the report that all is clear. Surely there will be no need for delay. Haste, rather, is what is called for.”“Quite so,” agreed Dick, quietly. “The men retire, and as they pass into the stockade they each take up a bundle of gold dust, for it would never do to leave our profits to these robbers. Then, led by the man who has descended the ridge, the miners will creep over the crest and descend the hill. They will make for the track in the forest, and will gain the boats as soon as possible. Arrived there, they will get the fire going aboard the launch, hook on one of the boats, or two if they are necessary, and wait for their comrades. I said that one of the latter would be the scout who lay on the crest.”“That man will be myself,” said the chief, calmly. “A leader should always take the post of danger and protect his men. We are not warriors, but we know how to act.”“You have proved it already. You will be one of those two. I shall be the other. No. Do not let us argue. Your own words prove that I have taken the proper course. As leader, I remain till all are gone, and I shall keep up a fire with my rifle till all are clear. Then I will take steps to prevent these robbers from carrying off even a stick of firewood, and will rejoin you on the hill. Afterwards we will fight our way to the boats.”He could see their eyes gleaming there in the moonlight as only the eyes of a dark-skinned man can gleam. The plan pleased them, that was clear, for when Dick had explained it to them to the best of his ability, all in turn gave expression to their approval with grunts, the meaning of which was undoubted. All seemed to think that they were in a very dangerous position, and that if this plan would not help them then nothing would.“Better to die sword in hand than at the stroke of a vile executioner,” said the chief. “We could sally out and surrender. But would that help us? We should be well received and well fed. The march to Kumasi would be by easy stages, and then the trouble would commence. Better to die as brave men, than to be slain as cravens, with our arms bound to our backs.”There was undoubted truth in the statement, and the knowledge of it heartened them all. They would behave as brave men, and would meet this danger with daring. If they prospered, well and good; if not, then they would not live long to mourn the misfortune.“And at any rate, I shall have made sure that that robber, James Langdon, does not reap any advantage,” said Dick. “The men will take every ounce of gold, and if hard pressed will open the sacks and scatter the dust. As for the place itself, the half-caste shall not find a home ready built for him should he elect to take up the work of gold-mining. He shall find the land as it was, clear of all houses.”There was a look of determination on his face. He rose, gripped each of the chiefs by the hand, and went forward to speak to the men, for time was pressing. In an hour the moon would wane, and in two it would be time to set out. Better make the attempt at the earliest moment, and so have ample time for escape.

It was intensely dark in the clearing, as our hero struck into it, but by contrast with the shadows in the depths of the forest it was light, so that he could see a few feet before him. He could distinguish vaguely the outline of the rocky crest near the summit of which the stockade was posted, and beyond it and to one side the dull black band of the encircling forest. In one direction there was a faint glimmer in the sky, the herald of the rising moon, while a glare rose above the stockade, not intense, to be sure, but sufficient to tell him that a fire was burning there.

“Then they are not alarmed,” he whispered, in tones of delight. “They are cooking their evening meal, which reminds me that I am hungry and thirsty, too. I must move on. Hullo!”

He fell like a stone, and lay with his body pressed close to the ground, for his ear caught a sound, and his eye detected a figure on his right. In that semi-darkness it looked huge and weird in shape, and might have been an ox or any other animal. But the low tones of men talking showed him that it must be the enemy, and caused him to grip his sword with extra determination.

“Hoot! Hoot!” Once more he heard the call of the night owl, the same cry as had awakened him when ascending the Pra, and which had aroused his suspicion. It seemed certain that this was the signal commonly used by the Ashantis, just as it had been for many and many a year by the Red Indians of America. “Hoot! Hoot!”

The call was repeated, and almost at once, from a point but a few yards nearer to the stockade, came the answer, “Hoot! Hoot!” Then the men advanced, and halted close to their comrade, while a few words of direction passed. Dick could with pleasure have dropped through the earth, so great was his dismay and consternation. Then he could have shouted with delight.

“Just a bit of sheer good fortune,” he thought. “Here was I advancing right on to one of the enemy, and these fellows gave me a warning. Very well. The hoot of the owl is the signal, and why should I not make it? Why should I not follow these beggars on their rounds? They will be visiting the sentries, and I shall then know where all are. I will go a little way with them, and then slip through between two of the men.”

It was a brilliant idea, and he set about carrying it out at once. He lifted his head and kept watch on the natives, while he listened to their conversation. Not that he could hear the words, for these men were experienced warriors, and they knew that a whisper carried far on such a still night. They conversed in the lowest of tones, and then moved on. “Hoot! Hoot!” The weird call again broke the silence, and was responded to. Then the native chiefs who were going the rounds moved on, and after them crept Dick, as silent and stealthy as a snake, one hand placed before the other, groping the ground to see that it was clear of twigs or other material which might betray his presence. Then the other would follow, and afterwards his knees would be drawn up beneath him, and he would repeat the whole process. “Hoot! Hoot!” There it was again. A third sentry had been approached, but Dick could not see him even though he was so close.

“Which shows me clearly how difficult the task is,” he thought. “But for those fellows going the rounds I should have walked right on to this batch of sentries, and then there would have been a row. Hullo! Some one else is on the alert.”

He could have laughed, for as the natives went on their way and repeated their signal, the Ashanti miners in the stockade must have carefully listened. Then they thought they espied the enemy, standing against a piece of open ground which happened to be exceptionally light in colour. Suddenly a single shot rang out, the detonation startling every one, and making our hero jump. For a single instant the stockade became outlined, and Dick thought he saw heads peeping up above the baulks of timber. Then all was darkness again and silence, save for the hoot of the native chief and the answer of the sentry.

“Time to be moving on,” thought Dick. “I have barely half an hour in which to reach friends, and now is my opportunity. These fellows here will have their attention distracted by the call of their comrades going the rounds. I may manage to get through. In any case I shall chance it, and if I am discovered I shall make a dash for the stockade. I suppose I shall have to run the chance of being shot, for how can my own men know that I am not one of the enemy? That also I must risk. Anything better than to be out here alone.”

Inch by inch he made his way across the open in the direction of the hill, his eyes turning from side to side, while he halted every minute. He was quite cool now. The imminence of his danger, the knowledge that there were enemies very near and on either hand, seemed to have braced his nerves. His heart had ceased to thump like a sledge-hammer against his ribs, while he could no longer feel his pulses beating and throbbing till it was almost painful. He had need of every faculty, of coolness and courage, and he did not mean to throw away a chance. Hush! A man, the sentry on his right, sat up suddenly, and as Dick crouched he could see that the fellow was listening. He had heard something which had aroused his suspicions, and with all the keenness of a native for the chase he would probe the matter to the bottom, he would not be satisfied to rest till he had cleared up the mystery. “Hoot! Hoot!” He sounded the signal, and for an instant our hero’s heart failed him. Should he answer? Was he seen?

“Yes, I believe he has heard me,” he thought. “He wonders who I am. I will answer. Hoot! Hoot!”

In very low tones he gave the call, and waited eagerly for what was next to happen. Then he gave vent to a sigh of relief. The man was deceived. He took this other figure for a comrade, and imagining that he was too close, and that the circle would be too open on the farther side, he rose to his knees and crawled to the right, till he was out of sight and hearing. After that Dick waited no longer. He crept forward, stealthily and slowly at first, till he was yards nearer the stockade. Then he increased the pace till he judged that he was clear of the inner line of sentries, and almost within hailing distance of his friends. But still he would not neglect the precautions he had decided were necessary.

“I feel inclined to jump to my feet and make a bolt for it,” he thought. “But no, that wouldn’t do, and I might easily be shot from the stockade. Slow and sure, said the tortoise, and I’ll stick to the motto.”

None but those who have been placed in a similar position can fully appreciate the temptation to which he was put, the huge desire which took hold of him to rise to his feet and run. Dick felt as the man does who is in full view of the rifles of unscrupulous marauders, without cover for many yards, uncertain whether to expect a hail of bullets or not. A sense of dignity, the feeling that it would not be courageous to run, holds one steady; but the temptation is there. There is a queer little feeling in the small of the back, and if one does not run, and conquers the temptation to act as a craven, one longs to look round, to make sure that no violence is about to be attempted. That was how our hero felt, and who will blame him? He was so near a refuge and friends now, and seemed clear of the enemy. It would be so easy to run. However, he stuck to his motto, and, still remaining on his knees, slowly crept closer to the stockade.

Hist! Something caught his ear, and he sat down to listen for some minutes till he felt sure that he was mistaken. Then he crawled on again, till of a sudden he swung round, and, with a cry of dismay, leaped to his feet. There was a man following him, a figure bent almost double, silently coming up with him. Had he but known, it was the identical sentry whose signal he had answered and who, still suspicious, had returned on his tracks. He was within three yards when Dick saw him, and the cry had hardly left his lips when the man was upon him.

With all the ferocity of a tiger he leaped at his enemy, native sword in hand, and as the fingers on his left hand closed on Dick’s shoulder, the murderous weapon swooped upwards in a stroke meant to transfix his body. But again the white man had good fortune. His guardian angel seemed to be on the watch that night, for the point caught the sling of his rifle, and turning aside the whole blade flashed beneath his arm till the hand which held it came with a thud against his side.

“Dog!” shouted the man, thinking he had accomplished his purpose.

Dick made no answer. He knew that if he did not hold that arm which gripped the sword he was as good as dead, and quick as lightning he took the only step to retain it. As the blade flew beneath his arm, and the man’s hand crashed against his side, he brought his own arm down, jamming the native’s hand there. Then he shook his hand from his shoulder, and lifting his own blade, plunged it with all his force into his enemy’s breast.

Hardly had the man fallen at his feet, when a series of shouts rang out, rifles blazed from the stockade, and ere he could move half a dozen natives were upon him. For Dick had made one miscalculation. He had forgotten that he was dealing with men who were from their youth trained as warriors, men accustomed to the trail, to forest warfare, and to every form of artifice. He had not recollected that these Ashanti fighters had the acutest hearing and phenomenal sight, and he, a mere white man, accustomed to city life, had imagined that he could creep through them. Bitterly was he mistaken, for one had first suspected the presence of an enemy and had then followed, while a comrade, discovering the fact in some subtle manner, had come on his tracks, five others following. Gradually they had gained on the chase, so that when Dick struck their leader down the rest were almost on him. Again there was a shout, taken up by a score of voices around the clearing, and in a second a fierce hand-to-hand contest had commenced.

“The white man! The white man! Take him alive! Do not kill him!”

It was James Langdon’s voice, coming from close at hand, for the news that some one was astir had been sent to him and he had followed.

“I give you all warning. Do not slay him, if you value my friendship.”

It was a fortunate thing for our hero, but not so for the natives. Flinging their arms aside they sprang forward to bear him to the ground. But if they had orders not to harm him, he had no scruples in killing them. The fear of captivity and of its consequences was before him. He struck out blindly with his sword, and when that was jerked from his hand he opened fire with his revolver, his shots punctuating the shouts of his opponents. But it was a one-sided engagement, and the darkness was against his chances. Already he had almost been borne to the ground by a huge native, who had leaped on his shoulders. But a sudden turn, the shortening of his pistol arm, and a quick and effective shot, had relieved him of the burden. Then two of the enemy had snatched at his legs, while a third aimed for his back, and missed it by the merest chance. He was about to spring again, while others were there now prepared to take his place should he not succeed. Dick was helpless. He had fired his last cartridge, and though he used the butt of the revolver and his fist, he was already outmatched. The end came quickly. The native behind him caught his rifle in both hands, and then put out all his strength. Dick lost his balance, and dragged by the sling was soon in a heap on the ground.

“Captured! We have him! Tie his legs and carry him off before the other dogs can come!”

There was such a hubbub that the words were hardly heard; but the Ashantis knew what was required of them. They slipped a noose over his hands and shoulders, and were drawing it tight when there was a rush of feet in their direction.

“Dere! Dey here. Come long! Fire!”

Dick could not believe his ears. He was already being dragged away, when Johnnie’s voice broke upon his ear. Then a number of dark figures burst in upon his captors, and a fierce conflict began.

“Here I am. This way!” he shouted, as he struggled with the enemy. “Here! Over here!”

The gallant fellows from the stockade raced after him, Johnnie being at their head. In his hands he held a rifle, and without doubt it was his frantic wielding of this weapon which saved the situation. With a crash the stock fell upon the head of the native who had hold of our hero, causing him to fall. Another movement and the same fate overtook another. There was a scream of alarm, a few heavy blows struck by the knives of the men, and Dick was free, unharmed, and in their midst, boiling over with gladness and exultation. They picked him up as if he had been a child, and bore him in triumph to the stockade.

“Bang de door,” said Johnnie, taking upon himself the command of the station. “Now, yo men, jest put de massa down—so. Not throw him down, silly!”

Utterly oblivious of the fact that the Ashanti gold-miners could not understand, he gave his commands in a tone of comical haughtiness which at another time would have caused Dick to roar with laughter. This was, indeed, a new side to Johnnie’s character. But our hero was to learn more.

“Now man de walls, and shoot dem debils down,” shouted Johnnie, taking his rifle and running to an aperture. “Dat so. You quite understand. Den me see to massa.”

He was delighted to have him back, safe and sound, and stood there wringing his hand till it seemed that he could never stop. However, Dick was a practical fellow, and it was a long time since he had been in the stockade.

“Food and something to drink, Johnnie, like a good fellow,” he cried. “Run along and see what you’ve got, while I take a look outside. Now,” he said, when he had reached the walls and had discovered the position of the chief of the miners, “what is your report? Any sign of them?”

“They have gone back to their posts. We knew that they were watching, and we almost expected an attack. We were looking for you too, chief. You can leave us to guard the place till you are ready to come back to the walls. Go and eat, for you must be hungry.”

Dick undoubtedly was, and fell to eagerly upon the good things which were placed on the folding wooden table in the hut. For Johnnie was general caterer as well as stoker, and in addition, it seemed, commander of the post at a pinch. He placed a bottle of water near at hand, some yams, and a cut of tinned beef, and on these our hero fell.

“Yo’s make de most of dem water,” said Johnnie, as he watched his master drink, for it had been a hot day, and never a drop of fluid had Dick been able to touch. “Make de most of him, for dere little more. De jars nearly dry, and where we fill dem again? So drink him to the velly bottom.”

“What! No water in the place! Run out already!”

No wonder that he was again dismayed, for Dick had such a young head upon his shoulders that he could not be expected in a matter of a couple of months or more to correct all the faults committed by his predecessor. True, the site of the stockade was excellent in nearly every respect, for it commanded a wide, open space on every side, and could not be fired into from the crest above. It boasted a moderate amount of shade, for there was a small group of trees within the compound, and in addition, it enjoyed a delightful breeze, which kept it cool, and drove the fever away. It had its failings, however. It could not stand a siege, for the simple reason that it was perched well up above the stream in which the gold was washed, and there was no well. A store of water was carried up every day, and that store had disappeared with rapidity since the miners had taken post at the stockade.

“I ought to have thought of that before. We should have had a tank or something of the sort,” cried Dick, with vexation, quite forgetful of the fact that the nearest point at which such a thing could be obtained was Elmina.

“Yo’s dink him up and smack de lip,” said Johnnie. “No use make fuss now dat dere no water left. Hab to leave den, dat’s all. Get way into de forest.”

“And meet these two hundred Ashanti warriors. No, thank you, Johnnie. Come, tell me how all this has happened. I was away in the forest, and thought I heard the alarm sounded. Then there were shots, and when I came to the clearing and could see, there were bodies lying around, and you were holding the enemy in check. I heard then that two hundred more are expected, and waited till a double ring was thrown round us. Then I came on. And that reminds me. It was a plucky rush you made, and just saved me. Thanks, very much.”

“Noding, massa. We wait and we expect yo come. We guess you not seen by de rascal enemy, and we know yo not rush here when it light. De moon coming up. See um. Den we guess you come jest after it get dark. We get ready, and den rush. Simple as eatin’.”

“And about the alarm?”

“Not so simple,” was the candid answer. “Johnnie seem to tink dere trouble coming. Eber since he meet de Ashanti war men he say, ‘dere ruction ahead, dere goin’ ter be smash up of de mine.’ Johnnie look out from de hill when massa gone, every single day, and sit dere waitin’ wid de tom-tom. Lucky, too, massa, for we not hab velly much time. Me see black chap come out of de tree, and den dat half-white man who fight us before. Johnnie beat de tom-tom till all de miners hear. Den he run to the stockade and pick up de rifle. He see first one and den all de men racing in, and after dem de enemy. Dey rush right up to de gate. But Johnnie stop um.”

The comical little fellow turned his eyes up to the moon and squinted at Dick. He threw his chest out, stood to his fullest height, and put on an air of dignity.

“How?” asked Dick.

“Like dis. De men run in de gate, and de last man bang um to and bolt um. Den we stand at the peephole and wait. Two of de rascal come runnin’, and Johnnie take good aim. Bang! When me look ’gain both lying on de face, dead’s muttin’.”

“And you took command of the stockade?”

“Y’s guessed right, massa. Me hold de reins. Me shout de orders, and de men brave and behabe demselbes. We fire slow and careful, same as massa tell us, and we still plenty cartridge left.”

“And practically no water. That is the most serious news, and makes it impossible to remain for long where we are. How long will the moon be up, Johnnie?”

“Soon down,” was the answer. “In four hour, I tink.”

“Then we will consult with the chief. Fetch him along, Johnnie.”

Dick strolled out into the compound, and having made sure that all was quiet and that the men were alert, he took his seat close to the gate, with Johnnie and the two chief miners beside him. It was a strange place and a stranger hour to have a meeting, and as remarkable, too, was the fact that Dick could only just make himself understood and gather the meaning of the natives, while Johnnie was useless at the task. Still, Dick was able to act as interpreter, for he could speak a little Fanti, and there is only slight difference between that and the Ashanti dialect. Tersely the young leader of the party told his news, how he had overheard the half-caste, and how two hundred Ashanti warriors were expected.

“They will eat us up,” said the chief, with an involuntary shudder when he heard what Dick had to say. “They will pour like a river up to the gates of the stockade, and we shall not stop them. They will swarm over, and we shall be slain.”

“While if we are successful during the day they would certainly succeed at night, chief. Then there is the question of the water.”

The chief shook his head dolefully.

“We are as good as dead,” he said, “and glad I am that one can meet with death only once. As well sally out now and end the matter.”

“And be shot down like birds,” was Dick’s answer. “But I agree that the situation is serious. We should be better off were we out in the forest, for there we could divide and scatter. Again, we could make for the launch and steam down the river.”

“If it were possible,” cried the chief, with a look of hope in his face. “But how to get away? These foxes close round us. They know that we are secure, for who could leave the stockade now?”

“I got in safely, thanks to your rush. Why can we not get out again? Can you think of nothing? Come, man, we must make an effort.”

But it was useless. The chief of the miners could make no suggestion. He and his men were ready to follow their leader to the death, and he could rely upon their courage. But they could offer no plan of escape. They came of a race noted for its ferocity and courage, a race trained to arms, but they were more inclined to the ways of peace.

“Then I will tell you what I think,” said Dick, when many minutes had passed, and the four had stared silently at one another as they sat in the rays of the moon. “We agree that death waits for us here, whether by the knives of the enemy or by water famine. Then we must go. The question becomes when and how? I will tell you. We must distract the attention of these men, and this is how I propose that we shall do it. First of all, however, are there any here who can creep like a snake through the grass and so escape discovery?”

The chief threw his head up proudly. “That is one of the first lessons we learned as boys,” he said. “There is not a man here who cannot do that.”

“Then this is my plan. As we sit here, the launch lies straight over the crest of the hill where some of the enemy crouch. I believe that so far our boats are undiscovered, and that being so, the enemy will not expect us to take that direction, seeing that it is the roughest and the steepest. It would be natural for us to strike to right or left of the stockade, for the attack has been in the very centre.”

There was a grunt of acquiescence as Dick paused to look at the chiefs.

“Our chief speaks wisely for one so young,” said the leader. “But we know him now, and can expect good advice. Say on.”

“We decide, then, to flee by way of the crest. Then we must make a demonstration in the opposite direction. We will choose that to our right, being the farthest from the crest. We will send out four of our best and most active men just after the moon disappears, with orders to get as close as possible to the enemy and then fire on them. These men will retire within five minutes, when they will be joined by more who also will fire. We will move swiftly from right to left and back again, and the men can be so disposed that there will be no danger of hurting one another. That should alarm the enemy, and, in any case, it will attract the attention of those in that quarter.”

“They will take alarm and think that we are attempting to break through. They will call in all the men,” said the chief, with assurance. “I begin to follow your meaning.”

“While the firing is going on two of our number who are accounted brave”—Dick noticed that the chief again tossed his head into the air—“will creep to the top of the hill and over it. They will be given a quarter of an hour to see that it is clear. They will not be satisfied till they have killed the sentries or shown that they are absent. Then one will return with the news.”

“And the whole party will follow him,” burst in the chief, eagerly.

“Hardly that,” said Dick. “They are still out in the open, and they must retire. Even then the ruse might be discovered if the firing were not continued. The enemy would suspect a ruse and would send out to intercept us.”

“Then what is your plan, chief?” asked the native, his curiosity aroused to the fullest. “The men retire and keep up the firing, you have a man on the crest and the report that all is clear. Surely there will be no need for delay. Haste, rather, is what is called for.”

“Quite so,” agreed Dick, quietly. “The men retire, and as they pass into the stockade they each take up a bundle of gold dust, for it would never do to leave our profits to these robbers. Then, led by the man who has descended the ridge, the miners will creep over the crest and descend the hill. They will make for the track in the forest, and will gain the boats as soon as possible. Arrived there, they will get the fire going aboard the launch, hook on one of the boats, or two if they are necessary, and wait for their comrades. I said that one of the latter would be the scout who lay on the crest.”

“That man will be myself,” said the chief, calmly. “A leader should always take the post of danger and protect his men. We are not warriors, but we know how to act.”

“You have proved it already. You will be one of those two. I shall be the other. No. Do not let us argue. Your own words prove that I have taken the proper course. As leader, I remain till all are gone, and I shall keep up a fire with my rifle till all are clear. Then I will take steps to prevent these robbers from carrying off even a stick of firewood, and will rejoin you on the hill. Afterwards we will fight our way to the boats.”

He could see their eyes gleaming there in the moonlight as only the eyes of a dark-skinned man can gleam. The plan pleased them, that was clear, for when Dick had explained it to them to the best of his ability, all in turn gave expression to their approval with grunts, the meaning of which was undoubted. All seemed to think that they were in a very dangerous position, and that if this plan would not help them then nothing would.

“Better to die sword in hand than at the stroke of a vile executioner,” said the chief. “We could sally out and surrender. But would that help us? We should be well received and well fed. The march to Kumasi would be by easy stages, and then the trouble would commence. Better to die as brave men, than to be slain as cravens, with our arms bound to our backs.”

There was undoubted truth in the statement, and the knowledge of it heartened them all. They would behave as brave men, and would meet this danger with daring. If they prospered, well and good; if not, then they would not live long to mourn the misfortune.

“And at any rate, I shall have made sure that that robber, James Langdon, does not reap any advantage,” said Dick. “The men will take every ounce of gold, and if hard pressed will open the sacks and scatter the dust. As for the place itself, the half-caste shall not find a home ready built for him should he elect to take up the work of gold-mining. He shall find the land as it was, clear of all houses.”

There was a look of determination on his face. He rose, gripped each of the chiefs by the hand, and went forward to speak to the men, for time was pressing. In an hour the moon would wane, and in two it would be time to set out. Better make the attempt at the earliest moment, and so have ample time for escape.

Chapter Nine.Deceiving the Enemy.“You have been the round of the men and have told them our plan?” asked Dick, some minutes later, as the chiefs came to his side again. “Is there one who does not understand?”“Not one, white chief. Two are to go to the crest behind when you shall say that the time for that movement has come. Those two will be myself and my brother here. If there are men up there they shall die. Those who pass to the front of the stockade know their orders well. Each will attempt to find an enemy, and will fire. He will fire into the forest if he can see none, and will retire slowly, firing occasionally all the while. His duty also is to run from side to side, so that it may trouble the enemy to know where we are coming. But gradually the miners are to collect closer to the right, and we hope the enemy will gather there, too. If all is well with us by then, you will know, for one will return. Then you will pass on to the men in front. They will retire, and we shall make for the forest—that is, all but myself.”Dick expressed his satisfaction, and was about to turn away when Johnnie came forward to speak to him.“What Johnnie do?” he asked.“You will lead the men to the road through the forest,” said Dick. “Once you reach the launch, get your fire going and steam up. Then lay off, with a boat attached, if you think the launch will not carry all of us. See that the gold is packed on board, and, above all, destroy the other boats. Beat them to pieces and sink them in the stream, where they will not block your path. Wait and be ready for those who follow. The chief and myself may have to run for it.”“And why me not stay to help massa?” demanded the little black fellow, earnestly. “We know de path in de forest. Me quick, and can help. Why me not stay?”“Because in this matter of our escape every man must carry out the task for which he is best fitted. We rely on you, Johnnie, to get steam up. If you fail, what will happen to us all?”“Um! Me see well ’nough now,” was the answer. “Me go right ’nough. But me rather stay, massa. Me always want to help.”Dick patted him on the back, for he had long ago seen that Johnnie was a faithful fellow, and had taken his master into his special favour. He did not trouble to seek the cause, but knew that it was a fact—the little man had been proving his devotion to him in a hundred ways since they two had been left alone at the goldmine. But had Johnnie been asked, he would have quickly supplied a reason.“Me lob Massa Dick,” he would often murmur to himself. “He not like some of dese white men who comes to de coast. Dey velly young often—jest like him—and dey tink dat dey oh so much finer dan de poor black man. So dey am; but no need kick and swear at um. Massa not like dat. He say, ‘please, Johnnie,’ nice and friendly, when he want him food. And he never forget ‘tank you, Johnnie.’ Dat what me like. Me work for man like dat. And massa velly fine young fellow. He brave. He make friend eberywhere—same’s Massa Pepson and de fat Dutchman. Dey his broders, who lob him same’s Johnnie.”It was a clear explanation, and no doubt was perfectly truthful. Indeed, there is little doubt that a little more thought on the part of the white man would often result in better relations between himself and the man of darker complexion. Youth and inexperience are no excuse for harsh dealing and bitter words, for sneers and open scoffing. The black man needs special treatment. He can be ruled easily and well. He can be made a faithful and contented servant, and there are none more fitted to be his masters than are Englishmen. But whatever the black may be, he is a fellow human being, and deserves common kindness and courtesy, till he has proved himself unworthy of either; and a little care in such matters—more care than is always given—would perhaps lead to better relations in our Indian dominions.“Me go wid de first lot, den,” said Johnnie. “Time massa reach de launch she hab steam fit to bust.”“Then off you go to the hut, and bring me along that drum of kerosene oil we use for the miners’ lamps. Wait, though. I’ll go with you.”He trudged off to the hut, and there for a quarter of an hour he and the little black stoker were hard at work, feeling sure that the miners would meanwhile hold all secure. Indeed, there was little to fear, for the moon was still up, though it was now close to the summit of the tree-tops, and would soon fall below the forest and be hidden. Still, while it was light, movement on their part, or on that of the enemy, would be madness.“Now, Johnnie, smartly does it, as the sailors say,” cried Dick, as they entered the hut. “We will have that small lantern alight, and then we will commence operations. I am going to lay a little supper for Master James Langdon, expert thief and murderer. I will leave him a little legacy which will hardly please him. Got the lantern? Then bring all the picks and spare mining tools. Bring everything, in fact, likely to be of use in the mines, and now held in our stores. Pile them in the centre of the floor here close to the drum.”The native looked up in astonishment, but flew at once to carry out the order. It took very little time, indeed, for the stores held in the hut were not very large or diverse. There were just sufficient spare parts to replace a few breakages—enough, in fact, to keep the mine going in its then primitive condition, and till it had shown whether it was valuable or not. The various articles were dumped down in the centre of the hut, while Dick busied himself with throwing there all the odds and ends of clothing hanging to the walls, scraps of paper, and inflammable articles.“Now for the gold,” he said. “We have it in bags already, and have merely to divide it. Let me see. There are twelve miners, and they, with our two selves, make fourteen. Subtract two, for the chief and myself, who remain behind, and that leaves twelve. Twelve bags, Johnnie, do you hear?”The native grinned. He began to see a joke in all this hurry and bustle. He darted towards the store of gold, which was kept in small canvas bags, and helped Dick to divide it up. There was not a large quantity, though the mine had done remarkably well. Still, so rich is the ore in Ashanti that, thanks to the work of the miners and Dick’s care, the store was of great value.“Me laugh, ha! ha! ha! You see de face ob dat half-white scum,” cried Johnnie. “He lob de gold. He say now to himself, ‘me soon wring de neck ob all dem fellers, and special of de white man whom me hate like pisin. Yes, me turn dem out, and den me set oder boys to work. Yes, fine game me play. Get shaft dug, ground open, all de labour done. Den walk in, find house, plenty gold, stockade, gun, eberyting.’ Golly! he make bit mistake dis time. He find nest clear, p’raps. All de eggs cooked, de old birds flown ’way, and all velly hot. No gold, no food, noding. Him cuss and swear. Him rabe. Him say, ‘hang dat Dick Stapleton. Me kill um by little inches when me hab de feller.’ How Johnnie like to stay and see him go crazy.”“Thank you, I’d rather be far away,” said Dick, with a laugh. “Mister James Langdon is a gentleman who would kill me with less compunction than he would tread on a beetle. No, thanks. No staying for me.”“No Johnnie, neider, tank you all same, massa. Me get to de steamer, and yo see. When yo come, she fairly jumpin’, so ready to go. Yes, me break up de oder boats and hab all ready. Make no trouble. Johnnie know what to do.”“Then let’s place these bags in a row just inside the door of the stockade,” said Dick. “We’ll put the lamp there, too, so that the light cannot be seen outside, but so that the men can distinguish the bags. Then, as they retire, they will pick one up and go up the hill. That’s all clear. Come along.”Ten minutes later they had laid the wealth of the gold-mine at the door of the stockade, and each man had been brought to the position and been given full instructions.“You can trust the matter to them entirely, white chief,” said the leader of the miners. “You must have seen that they are honest, and besides, all have an interest, and if one happened to be a robber, the others would soon arrest him.”“Then I will complete my arrangements. I see that the moon is almost down. Has there been any movement amongst the enemy?”“They have crept a little closer,” was the answer. “We did not fire, as it did not seem necessary. They have drawn in their circle out here in front, and I believe that they have brought one or two men from the crest.”It was comforting news, for if the enemy’s position were known, the task of the defenders would be easier.“They know that our case is desperate,” thought Dick, “and they have come in closer to keep us in. They will not make a rush themselves after what I heard them say. Then at the very first our men should be able to locate them and drive them back. Good! Now for the last preparation.”He went off to a corner of the stockade, and came staggering back with a small barrel over his shoulder, while Johnnie followed with a square case.“Place it there carefully,” said Dick, as they arrived close to the gate. “Now break it open, and unpack the contents.”The materials in the box were rapidly exposed to view, and one by one they handled rockets of enormous size, detonators, and fuses, for an assortment of explosives had been brought to the mines. Dick took the end of a pick and pried the lid off the cask. Then he tore off his hat.“Hold,” he said to Johnnie. “That’s right, and keep well away from the lamp. It’s gunpowder, and would send us up to the sky. That’s the way, Johnnie; now put the barrel down and hold the hat.”He had filled his hat with the shining black grains, and now he arranged the barrel a few feet within the stockade, covered it with an old cloth which he had saturated with kerosene, and then placed the rockets and other explosives on top. Meanwhile the lamp was kept at a respectful distance. By now the moon had fallen below the tree-tops, and already the light had faded to such an extent that it was difficult to see more than a few feet. It was time to begin moving, and again a call brought all the garrison to the gate.“This is the bomb which I hope will help us,” said Dick, a grim smile on his lips. “Look at it there, gunpowder and bombs. Very well, then; I have showed it so that you will not stumble on to it. Let each one now lie down at the gate. When I give you the order you will all file out, and on your return you will find the gold bags where they are now, and the lantern beside them. Each will take a bag and retire to the back of the stockade. There one of your chiefs will be waiting for you, and he will give you the direction. You will make for the forest and the boats. A last warning. Do not get too close to the enemy. You know their position, and can creep sufficiently near to make your shots tell. Shout to one another, and make it appear as though a rush were about to be made. In a quarter of an hour you can begin to retire. Come back, firing slowly. When you meet me I will send the word to each. Then slink off at once. Now, Johnnie, the drum of kerosene.”He took the cap full of gunpowder, and began to lay a train, spilling the black grains in a thick line across the grass towards the hut. He ran it in through the door, faking care to keep the train well to one side where his feet would not touch it. Then he emptied what remained in a pile in the very centre. And meanwhile Johnnie carried the lamp, giving just sufficient light to show the way, and holding it as far from his barrel of kerosene as possible. And now there remained but two things to do. There were a few drops of water left in the bottle, drops to which the black had drawn Dick’s attention without avail. He took them now and threw them on his little heap of powder, stirring the mass with his fingers, and kneading it till he had the substance soft and sticky. Then he arranged it in the shape of a pyramid, and, having made his “devil,” carried it into the far corner of the room. He still had a few grains of powder left, and these he ran as a train from the devil to the clothing and odd stores which lumbered the floor.“Finished,” he said at length, surveying his work with much pleasure. “Now the oil.”Taking the drum, he pulled the cork out of the bung-hole and let the contents pour over the heap in the centre of the hut. He threw some over the walls, saturating every corner save the one in which the devil was placed. Then, carefully avoiding the train, he emerged from the hut, crossed to the gate and repeated the same process, spreading the inflammable fluid all round the rockets and detonators there, and taking it to the walls of the stockade, where he again threw the contents on the woodwork. That done, he put the drum down, and placed the lamp close to the bags of gold.“Mind,” he said, lifting a warning finger, as he stood in the light, “you each take a bag and go. You leave the lamp burning, remember that. I shall want it to fire the train.”It was time to move. By now the moon had sunk completely, and dense darkness reigned over the surrounding forest and the neighbourhood of the stockade. Our hero looked closely at his men. There was an air of suppressed excitement about them, but he could see no trace of fear. Indeed, these miners had already proved that they possessed courage, and though they were not like their countrymen, for ever practised in the arts of war, yet they had fair knowledge, as their behaviour had already shown. Each carried a rifle in his hand, while a bag of cartridges dangled across his shoulder. In addition, the short sword which every Ashanti man wears, hung from the waist, ready for hand-to-hand fighting. They sat on the ground in a circle, talking in whispers and waiting for the signal.“Time to move,” said Dick, easily. “Open the gates, chief.”Silently and stealthily, as if they were so many ghosts, the party issued from the stockade, and soon our hero, the two chiefs, and Johnnie, were alone.“Five minutes after the first shot is fired you will move,” said their young leader. “It will take three more to reach the crest, and then—”“It shall be cleared,” whispered the chief, with determination in his voice. “My comrade and I have sworn that we will slay all who lie there. Trust to us to do the deed without a sound, and to return in time. We will make sure that none are left to spy upon us.”Five minutes passed slowly, and still there was no sound. Though the four peered from the stockade, intent upon piercing the darkness, and observing the movements of their comrades, there was nothing to be seen. The ground outside might as well have been untenanted. It was trying work waiting there for the sound of a shot. The seconds were like minutes, so slowly did they seem to go. Dick could hear his own heart thudding, could hear the deep breathing of the chiefs, while ever and anon the weak rays of the lamp showed him the white of Johnnie’s eyes, as he turned them towards the sky. Ah! It was a shout which broke the trying silence.A shout of alarm, coming from the lips of one of the enemy. And quickly following upon it came the sharp report of a rifle and a human scream, the cry of some unhappy native who had been hit. After that there was a medley of calls and loud reports. Shouts and cries of rage and excitement came from the enemy, rifles flashed and roared, while the muzzle-loaders of the Ashanti attackers bellowed as they sent their load of slugs towards the stockade. The air above the enclosure sang with missiles of every description. Angular pieces of lead and iron, bullets of excellent formation, ironstone pebbles and pieces of broken rock, hissed over the hut and stockade in answer to the fire of the defenders.“Excellent!” said Dick, as he stared from the gateway. “They are doing well. If I were not aware of the movement being carried out, I should say that the garrison was making a sortie, or an attempt to break out, and that they were trying to find the weakest spot in the ring thrown round them. Listen to the calls of the enemy, and hark! there goes a whistle.”Above all the sound came the shrill signal, perhaps blown by James Langdon himself.“It may be a recall to the men on the crest,” he whispered. “Chief, it is time for you and your comrade to move.”“We go. In a few minutes you shall hear from us, white chief.”Dick turned to see the two brave Ashantis passing out of the stockade. In a moment they were gone, and, like their comrades, they made not a sound. He and Johnnie were left alone to listen to the firing and the shouts outside, and to strain their ears for some noise, a shout perhaps, the firing of a rifle, to tell them that the chiefs had been discovered. But no signal came from the direction of the crest, they had no intimation of the fate which had befallen the plucky two, till of a sudden a figure rose at their feet, causing both to start back.“I am sent by my leader,” said a voice. “The crest is clear. There were two of the enemy there. They are dead.”Dick could hardly believe his ears, and the news took a load from his mind. If all was clear on the crest, then it was time to set the others moving. He swung round and addressed Johnnie.“You stay here till the bags are gone, then follow,” he said. “I am going to join our comrades in front.”When the black stoker looked again his master was gone, and with a sigh and a shiver of apprehension he sat down beside the lamp, and waited there in silence, for he and the Ashanti chief could not understand one another. As for our hero, he crept forward till the shots on either hand told him that he was amongst the men. Then he sought one of them and whispered in his ear, with the result that the miner passed to left and right, giving his comrades the message, with orders to pass it on. It was wonderful with what intelligence these Ashantis carried out their part of the work. They began to fall back slowly, firing at the flashes of the enemy’s rifles, till they were within fifty yards of the stockade.“Now begin to hold your fire,” said Dick, and in a minute the shots lessened. Another five minutes and the men were slinking back to the stockade, while our hero raced to and fro, firing his rifle repeatedly, so as to make the enemy think that the whole garrison was there. He fired, in fact, till his weapon was almost too hot to hold, and actually blistered his fingers. And then, when he judged that all must be clear of the stockade, and at the crest by now, he threw down his rifle and ran. Dashing into the stockade, he hardly paused as he snatched up the lamp, and went on pellmell for the hut. Leaping the train of powder, he ran to the far corner of the building, and knelt beside the “devil.” A jerk threw the lantern open, and in a second he had the candle in his hand. There was no time for hesitation, and at once he held the flame to the devil till it smoked and a few grains fizzled. But it did not fire at once. A little more heat was required, for he had over-damped the powder, and in his overstrung condition the extra time entailed in providing that heat was maddening. At any time the enemy might suspect. They might even then be within the stockade. He would then—Ah! It had fired. The devil was well alight, throwing out its pungent fumes, till they gripped Dick’s throat. He could move. The act was accomplished. The place was as good as fired.He rose to his feet, stamped on the candle, and stole to the door. He would have been out in the open in another second had not something suddenly caused him to throw himself full length on the floor, where he lay in deep shadow, while just in front of him a few feeble rays from the spluttering devil passed through the door and showed him two figures. One was the half-caste, while beside him, bending low as they crept across the compound, was a native, the glint from his enormous blade coming to Dick’s eyes.“A ruse! We have lost the birds,” he heard the half-caste growl huskily, as if his anger were choking him. “But they are close. I know they are near us. Hah! Look there, chief. Afire. Look! a fire!”They were quite close by now, and Dick saw them both start back. Then, as they caught sight of the spluttering devil and took in the situation, he saw them turn to run.“A mine! A mine!” shouted the half-caste.Leaping to his feet, he ran towards the gate of the stockade, the native abreast of him, and close on their heels came Dick, aglow with excitement. He was bent on escape. He felt the doors of retreat closing on him, and he was determined to get away. Suddenly James Langdon turned and gripped the native. Then he swung round, as if a thought had occurred to him, and he had realised that there was time yet to save an explosion. Indeed, that was his thought, and he at once ran back to the stockade. An instant later he saw Dick’s figure bounding towards him in the darkness. He gave vent to a shout, and then crashed up against a boulder which happened to lie there, for our hero’s fist had struck him full on the chest. The blow almost staggered Dick, too, but he recovered his balance in a moment, and, swinging round, dealt the native a fierce stroke on the chin, sending him reeling. After that he was off like lightning. He was out of the gate ere a second had passed, and, darting round the stockade, was soon clambering up to the crest. Nor did he halt till he had reached the summit.“Rest a moment,” said the voice of the chief. “I heard the commotion, and I am glad to report that the men who followed you into the place fled down the hill. See the smoke coming from the hut. And there are the flames. We will move when you are ready.”Some five minutes later the two set off for the forest, the native leading, for he knew the way well, and had this enormous advantage over his young English leader, that he could see on such a night so well that they never once found themselves in a part where the difficulties of the track baulked their further progress. Since the day on which the expedition had first arrived, Dick had often taken the short cut to the forest which the agent had then used, and he knew how steep and difficult it was in parts, and how much care it called for, even when the easiest descents were selected. Had he had to find his way down alone on this night, he would probably have broken a limb, or lost his foothold and rolled, certainly to be dashed senseless before he reached the bottom. Then, too, it was not a time for hurry, such a dark night as this. But they had no choice. They could already see the glare of the flaming stockade in the sky. They could hear the shouts of their enemies, and they knew, the native far better than did Dick, that already his countrymen would be on the track.“Once in the forest we shall be safe, I think,” he said, speaking as easily as if he had made no unusual efforts, though our hero was so short of breath that he gasped.“Then we will put out all our strength to reach that place.”By now they were near the foot of the rocky hill, and presently they were running steadily across the level. At length they reached the edge of the forest, where they halted, Dick to throw himself on the ground and gasp there for breath.“A fine bonfire for our enemies,” laughed the chief, exulting now that he had left the worst of the danger behind. “How is it that there is no explosion?”No explosion! The bomb had failed! Dick looked up suddenly, his fatigue forgotten in an instant.“Perhaps we walked through the train and scattered the powder,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, I fancy that must be the secret. But it may go yet. The oil should carry the flames.”A little later, when both were rested, there was a violent concussion in the distance, the report shaking the trees. An instant before, a mass of burning materials shot high up above the crest, while a series of loud explosions took place, as the rockets and detonators burst in mid-air. It brought a roar of exultation from the two standing beside the edge of the forest, a roar which changed as quickly into one of consternation. For however successful the bomb had proved, however well it had destroyed the stockade, and perhaps some few of the enemy, the flames it sent into the air lit up the surroundings and showed them that if James Langdon and his men had once been taken in they were not to be so easily caught again; and, moreover, that on this occasion they were bent on retrieving their misfortunes. For racing down the crest and across the open ground came some forty Ashanti warriors, their guns flung this way and that, and bare swords in their hands. They had discovered the direction of the flying garrison, and they were in full chase, coming like a pack of hounds who hold the scent and see victory before them.“Lead!” said Dick, shortly, as they swung into the forest. “I have my wind now, and can keep up at any pace.”It was well for him that he could do so, for the track was not an easy one. Still there is no stimulus so strong as that which promises a swift and terrible fate to the one who lags behind. Dick knew what to expect if he were captured, and he went on without flagging. Briars and vines slashed him across both face and hands, lacerating the skin. Thorns plucked him by his clothing and tore it to shreds. He struck his knees against fallen tree-trunks, and his feet against rotting boughs. He plunged through narrow swamps and rivers, and dragged his legs through mire which threatened to hold him. And all the time the shouts of the hunters came in his wake. Talk of the music of the hounds! Dick learned during that wild dash through the heart of this dense forest to appreciate the bitterness of that statement from the point of view of the quarry fleeing for his very life. He knew now how the call of the pursuers made the blood run cold, how the yelp of Ashanti warriors made the hair rise, and the limbs stand almost still with sheer fright. Yes, he was the hare this time, and had there been a man at his heels, flogging him with a whip of knotted steel wire, or goading him with spikes, he could not have run harder. The perspiration poured from him. Blood dripped from many a cut and laceration, while his breath came in short gasps.“Hurrah! Him massa. Wait now, you young debil. Yo wait till I say go. Hold de fire till I tell yo. Hear? Can’t yo hear dem fellers comin’?”Once again did Dick learn to bless the sound of that voice. He dashed along beside the creek, saw the launch lying some feet away, and flung himself into the water. The chief followed suit without hesitation, and in a minute they were pushing out into the stream, the two fugitives lying flat upon the deck, breathless and exhausted with their exertions.And close on their heels came the enemy, maddened with rage, bent on securing the whole party. As the launch slipped into the stream and rounded the corner, first one and then some thirty of the warriors came tearing along the path, their dark figures hardly distinguishable in spite of the fact that the sky was getting lighter. But they could see clearly. They caught sight of the launch, and with yells of fury made ready to follow and effect her capture.

“You have been the round of the men and have told them our plan?” asked Dick, some minutes later, as the chiefs came to his side again. “Is there one who does not understand?”

“Not one, white chief. Two are to go to the crest behind when you shall say that the time for that movement has come. Those two will be myself and my brother here. If there are men up there they shall die. Those who pass to the front of the stockade know their orders well. Each will attempt to find an enemy, and will fire. He will fire into the forest if he can see none, and will retire slowly, firing occasionally all the while. His duty also is to run from side to side, so that it may trouble the enemy to know where we are coming. But gradually the miners are to collect closer to the right, and we hope the enemy will gather there, too. If all is well with us by then, you will know, for one will return. Then you will pass on to the men in front. They will retire, and we shall make for the forest—that is, all but myself.”

Dick expressed his satisfaction, and was about to turn away when Johnnie came forward to speak to him.

“What Johnnie do?” he asked.

“You will lead the men to the road through the forest,” said Dick. “Once you reach the launch, get your fire going and steam up. Then lay off, with a boat attached, if you think the launch will not carry all of us. See that the gold is packed on board, and, above all, destroy the other boats. Beat them to pieces and sink them in the stream, where they will not block your path. Wait and be ready for those who follow. The chief and myself may have to run for it.”

“And why me not stay to help massa?” demanded the little black fellow, earnestly. “We know de path in de forest. Me quick, and can help. Why me not stay?”

“Because in this matter of our escape every man must carry out the task for which he is best fitted. We rely on you, Johnnie, to get steam up. If you fail, what will happen to us all?”

“Um! Me see well ’nough now,” was the answer. “Me go right ’nough. But me rather stay, massa. Me always want to help.”

Dick patted him on the back, for he had long ago seen that Johnnie was a faithful fellow, and had taken his master into his special favour. He did not trouble to seek the cause, but knew that it was a fact—the little man had been proving his devotion to him in a hundred ways since they two had been left alone at the goldmine. But had Johnnie been asked, he would have quickly supplied a reason.

“Me lob Massa Dick,” he would often murmur to himself. “He not like some of dese white men who comes to de coast. Dey velly young often—jest like him—and dey tink dat dey oh so much finer dan de poor black man. So dey am; but no need kick and swear at um. Massa not like dat. He say, ‘please, Johnnie,’ nice and friendly, when he want him food. And he never forget ‘tank you, Johnnie.’ Dat what me like. Me work for man like dat. And massa velly fine young fellow. He brave. He make friend eberywhere—same’s Massa Pepson and de fat Dutchman. Dey his broders, who lob him same’s Johnnie.”

It was a clear explanation, and no doubt was perfectly truthful. Indeed, there is little doubt that a little more thought on the part of the white man would often result in better relations between himself and the man of darker complexion. Youth and inexperience are no excuse for harsh dealing and bitter words, for sneers and open scoffing. The black man needs special treatment. He can be ruled easily and well. He can be made a faithful and contented servant, and there are none more fitted to be his masters than are Englishmen. But whatever the black may be, he is a fellow human being, and deserves common kindness and courtesy, till he has proved himself unworthy of either; and a little care in such matters—more care than is always given—would perhaps lead to better relations in our Indian dominions.

“Me go wid de first lot, den,” said Johnnie. “Time massa reach de launch she hab steam fit to bust.”

“Then off you go to the hut, and bring me along that drum of kerosene oil we use for the miners’ lamps. Wait, though. I’ll go with you.”

He trudged off to the hut, and there for a quarter of an hour he and the little black stoker were hard at work, feeling sure that the miners would meanwhile hold all secure. Indeed, there was little to fear, for the moon was still up, though it was now close to the summit of the tree-tops, and would soon fall below the forest and be hidden. Still, while it was light, movement on their part, or on that of the enemy, would be madness.

“Now, Johnnie, smartly does it, as the sailors say,” cried Dick, as they entered the hut. “We will have that small lantern alight, and then we will commence operations. I am going to lay a little supper for Master James Langdon, expert thief and murderer. I will leave him a little legacy which will hardly please him. Got the lantern? Then bring all the picks and spare mining tools. Bring everything, in fact, likely to be of use in the mines, and now held in our stores. Pile them in the centre of the floor here close to the drum.”

The native looked up in astonishment, but flew at once to carry out the order. It took very little time, indeed, for the stores held in the hut were not very large or diverse. There were just sufficient spare parts to replace a few breakages—enough, in fact, to keep the mine going in its then primitive condition, and till it had shown whether it was valuable or not. The various articles were dumped down in the centre of the hut, while Dick busied himself with throwing there all the odds and ends of clothing hanging to the walls, scraps of paper, and inflammable articles.

“Now for the gold,” he said. “We have it in bags already, and have merely to divide it. Let me see. There are twelve miners, and they, with our two selves, make fourteen. Subtract two, for the chief and myself, who remain behind, and that leaves twelve. Twelve bags, Johnnie, do you hear?”

The native grinned. He began to see a joke in all this hurry and bustle. He darted towards the store of gold, which was kept in small canvas bags, and helped Dick to divide it up. There was not a large quantity, though the mine had done remarkably well. Still, so rich is the ore in Ashanti that, thanks to the work of the miners and Dick’s care, the store was of great value.

“Me laugh, ha! ha! ha! You see de face ob dat half-white scum,” cried Johnnie. “He lob de gold. He say now to himself, ‘me soon wring de neck ob all dem fellers, and special of de white man whom me hate like pisin. Yes, me turn dem out, and den me set oder boys to work. Yes, fine game me play. Get shaft dug, ground open, all de labour done. Den walk in, find house, plenty gold, stockade, gun, eberyting.’ Golly! he make bit mistake dis time. He find nest clear, p’raps. All de eggs cooked, de old birds flown ’way, and all velly hot. No gold, no food, noding. Him cuss and swear. Him rabe. Him say, ‘hang dat Dick Stapleton. Me kill um by little inches when me hab de feller.’ How Johnnie like to stay and see him go crazy.”

“Thank you, I’d rather be far away,” said Dick, with a laugh. “Mister James Langdon is a gentleman who would kill me with less compunction than he would tread on a beetle. No, thanks. No staying for me.”

“No Johnnie, neider, tank you all same, massa. Me get to de steamer, and yo see. When yo come, she fairly jumpin’, so ready to go. Yes, me break up de oder boats and hab all ready. Make no trouble. Johnnie know what to do.”

“Then let’s place these bags in a row just inside the door of the stockade,” said Dick. “We’ll put the lamp there, too, so that the light cannot be seen outside, but so that the men can distinguish the bags. Then, as they retire, they will pick one up and go up the hill. That’s all clear. Come along.”

Ten minutes later they had laid the wealth of the gold-mine at the door of the stockade, and each man had been brought to the position and been given full instructions.

“You can trust the matter to them entirely, white chief,” said the leader of the miners. “You must have seen that they are honest, and besides, all have an interest, and if one happened to be a robber, the others would soon arrest him.”

“Then I will complete my arrangements. I see that the moon is almost down. Has there been any movement amongst the enemy?”

“They have crept a little closer,” was the answer. “We did not fire, as it did not seem necessary. They have drawn in their circle out here in front, and I believe that they have brought one or two men from the crest.”

It was comforting news, for if the enemy’s position were known, the task of the defenders would be easier.

“They know that our case is desperate,” thought Dick, “and they have come in closer to keep us in. They will not make a rush themselves after what I heard them say. Then at the very first our men should be able to locate them and drive them back. Good! Now for the last preparation.”

He went off to a corner of the stockade, and came staggering back with a small barrel over his shoulder, while Johnnie followed with a square case.

“Place it there carefully,” said Dick, as they arrived close to the gate. “Now break it open, and unpack the contents.”

The materials in the box were rapidly exposed to view, and one by one they handled rockets of enormous size, detonators, and fuses, for an assortment of explosives had been brought to the mines. Dick took the end of a pick and pried the lid off the cask. Then he tore off his hat.

“Hold,” he said to Johnnie. “That’s right, and keep well away from the lamp. It’s gunpowder, and would send us up to the sky. That’s the way, Johnnie; now put the barrel down and hold the hat.”

He had filled his hat with the shining black grains, and now he arranged the barrel a few feet within the stockade, covered it with an old cloth which he had saturated with kerosene, and then placed the rockets and other explosives on top. Meanwhile the lamp was kept at a respectful distance. By now the moon had fallen below the tree-tops, and already the light had faded to such an extent that it was difficult to see more than a few feet. It was time to begin moving, and again a call brought all the garrison to the gate.

“This is the bomb which I hope will help us,” said Dick, a grim smile on his lips. “Look at it there, gunpowder and bombs. Very well, then; I have showed it so that you will not stumble on to it. Let each one now lie down at the gate. When I give you the order you will all file out, and on your return you will find the gold bags where they are now, and the lantern beside them. Each will take a bag and retire to the back of the stockade. There one of your chiefs will be waiting for you, and he will give you the direction. You will make for the forest and the boats. A last warning. Do not get too close to the enemy. You know their position, and can creep sufficiently near to make your shots tell. Shout to one another, and make it appear as though a rush were about to be made. In a quarter of an hour you can begin to retire. Come back, firing slowly. When you meet me I will send the word to each. Then slink off at once. Now, Johnnie, the drum of kerosene.”

He took the cap full of gunpowder, and began to lay a train, spilling the black grains in a thick line across the grass towards the hut. He ran it in through the door, faking care to keep the train well to one side where his feet would not touch it. Then he emptied what remained in a pile in the very centre. And meanwhile Johnnie carried the lamp, giving just sufficient light to show the way, and holding it as far from his barrel of kerosene as possible. And now there remained but two things to do. There were a few drops of water left in the bottle, drops to which the black had drawn Dick’s attention without avail. He took them now and threw them on his little heap of powder, stirring the mass with his fingers, and kneading it till he had the substance soft and sticky. Then he arranged it in the shape of a pyramid, and, having made his “devil,” carried it into the far corner of the room. He still had a few grains of powder left, and these he ran as a train from the devil to the clothing and odd stores which lumbered the floor.

“Finished,” he said at length, surveying his work with much pleasure. “Now the oil.”

Taking the drum, he pulled the cork out of the bung-hole and let the contents pour over the heap in the centre of the hut. He threw some over the walls, saturating every corner save the one in which the devil was placed. Then, carefully avoiding the train, he emerged from the hut, crossed to the gate and repeated the same process, spreading the inflammable fluid all round the rockets and detonators there, and taking it to the walls of the stockade, where he again threw the contents on the woodwork. That done, he put the drum down, and placed the lamp close to the bags of gold.

“Mind,” he said, lifting a warning finger, as he stood in the light, “you each take a bag and go. You leave the lamp burning, remember that. I shall want it to fire the train.”

It was time to move. By now the moon had sunk completely, and dense darkness reigned over the surrounding forest and the neighbourhood of the stockade. Our hero looked closely at his men. There was an air of suppressed excitement about them, but he could see no trace of fear. Indeed, these miners had already proved that they possessed courage, and though they were not like their countrymen, for ever practised in the arts of war, yet they had fair knowledge, as their behaviour had already shown. Each carried a rifle in his hand, while a bag of cartridges dangled across his shoulder. In addition, the short sword which every Ashanti man wears, hung from the waist, ready for hand-to-hand fighting. They sat on the ground in a circle, talking in whispers and waiting for the signal.

“Time to move,” said Dick, easily. “Open the gates, chief.”

Silently and stealthily, as if they were so many ghosts, the party issued from the stockade, and soon our hero, the two chiefs, and Johnnie, were alone.

“Five minutes after the first shot is fired you will move,” said their young leader. “It will take three more to reach the crest, and then—”

“It shall be cleared,” whispered the chief, with determination in his voice. “My comrade and I have sworn that we will slay all who lie there. Trust to us to do the deed without a sound, and to return in time. We will make sure that none are left to spy upon us.”

Five minutes passed slowly, and still there was no sound. Though the four peered from the stockade, intent upon piercing the darkness, and observing the movements of their comrades, there was nothing to be seen. The ground outside might as well have been untenanted. It was trying work waiting there for the sound of a shot. The seconds were like minutes, so slowly did they seem to go. Dick could hear his own heart thudding, could hear the deep breathing of the chiefs, while ever and anon the weak rays of the lamp showed him the white of Johnnie’s eyes, as he turned them towards the sky. Ah! It was a shout which broke the trying silence.

A shout of alarm, coming from the lips of one of the enemy. And quickly following upon it came the sharp report of a rifle and a human scream, the cry of some unhappy native who had been hit. After that there was a medley of calls and loud reports. Shouts and cries of rage and excitement came from the enemy, rifles flashed and roared, while the muzzle-loaders of the Ashanti attackers bellowed as they sent their load of slugs towards the stockade. The air above the enclosure sang with missiles of every description. Angular pieces of lead and iron, bullets of excellent formation, ironstone pebbles and pieces of broken rock, hissed over the hut and stockade in answer to the fire of the defenders.

“Excellent!” said Dick, as he stared from the gateway. “They are doing well. If I were not aware of the movement being carried out, I should say that the garrison was making a sortie, or an attempt to break out, and that they were trying to find the weakest spot in the ring thrown round them. Listen to the calls of the enemy, and hark! there goes a whistle.”

Above all the sound came the shrill signal, perhaps blown by James Langdon himself.

“It may be a recall to the men on the crest,” he whispered. “Chief, it is time for you and your comrade to move.”

“We go. In a few minutes you shall hear from us, white chief.”

Dick turned to see the two brave Ashantis passing out of the stockade. In a moment they were gone, and, like their comrades, they made not a sound. He and Johnnie were left alone to listen to the firing and the shouts outside, and to strain their ears for some noise, a shout perhaps, the firing of a rifle, to tell them that the chiefs had been discovered. But no signal came from the direction of the crest, they had no intimation of the fate which had befallen the plucky two, till of a sudden a figure rose at their feet, causing both to start back.

“I am sent by my leader,” said a voice. “The crest is clear. There were two of the enemy there. They are dead.”

Dick could hardly believe his ears, and the news took a load from his mind. If all was clear on the crest, then it was time to set the others moving. He swung round and addressed Johnnie.

“You stay here till the bags are gone, then follow,” he said. “I am going to join our comrades in front.”

When the black stoker looked again his master was gone, and with a sigh and a shiver of apprehension he sat down beside the lamp, and waited there in silence, for he and the Ashanti chief could not understand one another. As for our hero, he crept forward till the shots on either hand told him that he was amongst the men. Then he sought one of them and whispered in his ear, with the result that the miner passed to left and right, giving his comrades the message, with orders to pass it on. It was wonderful with what intelligence these Ashantis carried out their part of the work. They began to fall back slowly, firing at the flashes of the enemy’s rifles, till they were within fifty yards of the stockade.

“Now begin to hold your fire,” said Dick, and in a minute the shots lessened. Another five minutes and the men were slinking back to the stockade, while our hero raced to and fro, firing his rifle repeatedly, so as to make the enemy think that the whole garrison was there. He fired, in fact, till his weapon was almost too hot to hold, and actually blistered his fingers. And then, when he judged that all must be clear of the stockade, and at the crest by now, he threw down his rifle and ran. Dashing into the stockade, he hardly paused as he snatched up the lamp, and went on pellmell for the hut. Leaping the train of powder, he ran to the far corner of the building, and knelt beside the “devil.” A jerk threw the lantern open, and in a second he had the candle in his hand. There was no time for hesitation, and at once he held the flame to the devil till it smoked and a few grains fizzled. But it did not fire at once. A little more heat was required, for he had over-damped the powder, and in his overstrung condition the extra time entailed in providing that heat was maddening. At any time the enemy might suspect. They might even then be within the stockade. He would then—Ah! It had fired. The devil was well alight, throwing out its pungent fumes, till they gripped Dick’s throat. He could move. The act was accomplished. The place was as good as fired.

He rose to his feet, stamped on the candle, and stole to the door. He would have been out in the open in another second had not something suddenly caused him to throw himself full length on the floor, where he lay in deep shadow, while just in front of him a few feeble rays from the spluttering devil passed through the door and showed him two figures. One was the half-caste, while beside him, bending low as they crept across the compound, was a native, the glint from his enormous blade coming to Dick’s eyes.

“A ruse! We have lost the birds,” he heard the half-caste growl huskily, as if his anger were choking him. “But they are close. I know they are near us. Hah! Look there, chief. Afire. Look! a fire!”

They were quite close by now, and Dick saw them both start back. Then, as they caught sight of the spluttering devil and took in the situation, he saw them turn to run.

“A mine! A mine!” shouted the half-caste.

Leaping to his feet, he ran towards the gate of the stockade, the native abreast of him, and close on their heels came Dick, aglow with excitement. He was bent on escape. He felt the doors of retreat closing on him, and he was determined to get away. Suddenly James Langdon turned and gripped the native. Then he swung round, as if a thought had occurred to him, and he had realised that there was time yet to save an explosion. Indeed, that was his thought, and he at once ran back to the stockade. An instant later he saw Dick’s figure bounding towards him in the darkness. He gave vent to a shout, and then crashed up against a boulder which happened to lie there, for our hero’s fist had struck him full on the chest. The blow almost staggered Dick, too, but he recovered his balance in a moment, and, swinging round, dealt the native a fierce stroke on the chin, sending him reeling. After that he was off like lightning. He was out of the gate ere a second had passed, and, darting round the stockade, was soon clambering up to the crest. Nor did he halt till he had reached the summit.

“Rest a moment,” said the voice of the chief. “I heard the commotion, and I am glad to report that the men who followed you into the place fled down the hill. See the smoke coming from the hut. And there are the flames. We will move when you are ready.”

Some five minutes later the two set off for the forest, the native leading, for he knew the way well, and had this enormous advantage over his young English leader, that he could see on such a night so well that they never once found themselves in a part where the difficulties of the track baulked their further progress. Since the day on which the expedition had first arrived, Dick had often taken the short cut to the forest which the agent had then used, and he knew how steep and difficult it was in parts, and how much care it called for, even when the easiest descents were selected. Had he had to find his way down alone on this night, he would probably have broken a limb, or lost his foothold and rolled, certainly to be dashed senseless before he reached the bottom. Then, too, it was not a time for hurry, such a dark night as this. But they had no choice. They could already see the glare of the flaming stockade in the sky. They could hear the shouts of their enemies, and they knew, the native far better than did Dick, that already his countrymen would be on the track.

“Once in the forest we shall be safe, I think,” he said, speaking as easily as if he had made no unusual efforts, though our hero was so short of breath that he gasped.

“Then we will put out all our strength to reach that place.”

By now they were near the foot of the rocky hill, and presently they were running steadily across the level. At length they reached the edge of the forest, where they halted, Dick to throw himself on the ground and gasp there for breath.

“A fine bonfire for our enemies,” laughed the chief, exulting now that he had left the worst of the danger behind. “How is it that there is no explosion?”

No explosion! The bomb had failed! Dick looked up suddenly, his fatigue forgotten in an instant.

“Perhaps we walked through the train and scattered the powder,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, I fancy that must be the secret. But it may go yet. The oil should carry the flames.”

A little later, when both were rested, there was a violent concussion in the distance, the report shaking the trees. An instant before, a mass of burning materials shot high up above the crest, while a series of loud explosions took place, as the rockets and detonators burst in mid-air. It brought a roar of exultation from the two standing beside the edge of the forest, a roar which changed as quickly into one of consternation. For however successful the bomb had proved, however well it had destroyed the stockade, and perhaps some few of the enemy, the flames it sent into the air lit up the surroundings and showed them that if James Langdon and his men had once been taken in they were not to be so easily caught again; and, moreover, that on this occasion they were bent on retrieving their misfortunes. For racing down the crest and across the open ground came some forty Ashanti warriors, their guns flung this way and that, and bare swords in their hands. They had discovered the direction of the flying garrison, and they were in full chase, coming like a pack of hounds who hold the scent and see victory before them.

“Lead!” said Dick, shortly, as they swung into the forest. “I have my wind now, and can keep up at any pace.”

It was well for him that he could do so, for the track was not an easy one. Still there is no stimulus so strong as that which promises a swift and terrible fate to the one who lags behind. Dick knew what to expect if he were captured, and he went on without flagging. Briars and vines slashed him across both face and hands, lacerating the skin. Thorns plucked him by his clothing and tore it to shreds. He struck his knees against fallen tree-trunks, and his feet against rotting boughs. He plunged through narrow swamps and rivers, and dragged his legs through mire which threatened to hold him. And all the time the shouts of the hunters came in his wake. Talk of the music of the hounds! Dick learned during that wild dash through the heart of this dense forest to appreciate the bitterness of that statement from the point of view of the quarry fleeing for his very life. He knew now how the call of the pursuers made the blood run cold, how the yelp of Ashanti warriors made the hair rise, and the limbs stand almost still with sheer fright. Yes, he was the hare this time, and had there been a man at his heels, flogging him with a whip of knotted steel wire, or goading him with spikes, he could not have run harder. The perspiration poured from him. Blood dripped from many a cut and laceration, while his breath came in short gasps.

“Hurrah! Him massa. Wait now, you young debil. Yo wait till I say go. Hold de fire till I tell yo. Hear? Can’t yo hear dem fellers comin’?”

Once again did Dick learn to bless the sound of that voice. He dashed along beside the creek, saw the launch lying some feet away, and flung himself into the water. The chief followed suit without hesitation, and in a minute they were pushing out into the stream, the two fugitives lying flat upon the deck, breathless and exhausted with their exertions.

And close on their heels came the enemy, maddened with rage, bent on securing the whole party. As the launch slipped into the stream and rounded the corner, first one and then some thirty of the warriors came tearing along the path, their dark figures hardly distinguishable in spite of the fact that the sky was getting lighter. But they could see clearly. They caught sight of the launch, and with yells of fury made ready to follow and effect her capture.

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