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ON A SURF-BOUND COAST.

ON A SUBF-BOUND COAST

OR,

CABLE-LAYING IN THE AFRICAN
TROPICS.

BY
AEOHEE P. CEOUCH, B.A. Oxon.

LONDON
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEABLB, & RIVINGTON
St. gnnstan's lioKftt
Fetter Land, Fleet Stbeet, E.O.
1887
[All rights reserved]

LONDON :
PRINTED BT WILLIAM CLOWES AND EONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

TO
MATTHEW HAMILTON GBAY,
ENGINEER IN CHAKGE Oj? THE EXPEDITION,
WHOSE KINDNESS AFFORDED OPPORTUNITIES
FOR MANY OF THE EXPERIENCES RELATED IN IT,
AND WHOSE SYMPATHY FINALLY ENABLED IT TO BE COMPLETED,
THIS BOOK
IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED BY
THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

This book forms portion of a diary kept during a cable-
laying expedition down the West Coast of A friea, starting
from the English settlement of Bathurst on the river
Gambia, 13° north of the Equator, and terminating at
the Portuguese town of St. Paul de Loanda, 8° south
of it. The whole expedition occupied six months ; but the
present volume does not include more than the first
portion of the journey, down to the author's departure
from Accra. This part covers three only out of the six
months, but as there is a natural and convenient break
here, the author determined to prepare no more than this
portion for publication, having no means of judging to
what extent such a work would meet with encouragement
from the public.
The name of the company by which the expedition
was undertaken is not mentioned, and the names of its
ships, together with those of their officers, staff, etc., are,
for the purposes of the narrative, fictitious. For the

viii Preface.
same reason the names of gunboats and merchant-ships
encountered during the trip, except in one or two obvious
cases, and the names of all persons met with on board
them or on shore, are similarly treated ; while the author,
in order to preserve uniformity on this point, assumes
the name of Bertram. In other respects, the events are
narrated just as they happened, and as they were entered
in the diary at the time of their occurrence.
A. P. CEOUCH.
September 16, 1887.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
The start — A scientific disquisition — Befogged in the Channel —
Dinner yarns ... ... ... ... ... 1
CHAPTEE II.
I make the acquaintance of the orlop-deck — World-wide travellers
— Photography at sea — The Burlings — Biver Tagus — The
Sunbeams-Lisbon — The town en fete for a royal marriage —
Weigh anchor for Grand Canary ... ... ••¦ 20
CHAPTEE III.
Strong head-winds — Fire muster — Our amateur photographer at
work — Las Palmas, Grand Canary — An impetuous driver —
Ascension Day at the Cathedral — Lunch at the hotel — A
precocious Spanish boy ... ... ... ... 35
CHAPTEE IV.
In the track of the north-east trades — -The sun vertically overhead
— Varying hues of the ocean — First view of the African coast
— Cape Verde — The island of Goree — French enterprise in
Senegal — Eailway to the interior — St. Louis — Celibacy as a
punishment — Dakar — Biver Gambia — A night on a sandbank 54
CHAPTEE V.
Bathurst — Turf-covered streets — A memorial monument — Native
bird-fancier — An open-air bazaar — The value of quinine-
Tropical thunderstorm — -A Gambia steam lighter — The port
doctor — Tarns of the coast by the captain of the lighter ... 68

PAM

x Contents.
CHAPTEE VI.
Lost, stolen, or strayed — Kroomen — Abolition of slavery — A
native barber — Landing a shark — The market — A literary
shopkeeper — "Locke on the Human Understanding " ... 86
CHAPTEE VII.
A deserted house for a testing-hut — Landing the shore ends — The
labour market in Bathurst — The Pioneer takes her turn on
a sandbank — Splicing cable — The Throxia begins laying her
first length — A midnight watch — Grappling — Harpooning a
shark — Telegraphic communication at sea with shore — Pick
ing up cable — Experiences of an operator ... ... 103
CHAPTEE VIII.
Slipping a final splice — Leaving Bathurst — Notes on the colony —
French offers of exchange — A tornado — Off Bulama — Tumbo
Island and Conakri — The Pioneer strikes on a rock — Hauled
off by the Thracia — Difficulties experienced in landing the
shore end — When and what to eat and drink — Leaving Conakri
to lay towards Sierra Leone ... ... ... ... 121
CHAPTEE IX.
Sierra Leone — View on approaching — Native washerwomen 
Visit to shore — Grass-grown streets — A naval captain to
dinner — His account of the coast — An African mailship  A
picturesque cable hut — Paying out towards Conakri ... 135
CHAPTEE X.
An African sunrise — The cable fouled by the propeller  Slipping
the final bight of the northern cables — Ashore at Conakri 
Ascending a cocoanut tree — A thunderstorm and an unex
pected explosion— The doctor's patients— West African fruit
— Jenkins's pets ... ... ... igo
CHAPTEE XI.
Sierra Leone again— Curios— A walk on shore— Dilapidated
appearance of the town— A watchman's box— The native
quarter— Fashions of wearing the hair among women-
Modes of locomotion— Absence of horses— A tropical down
pour—Native Sunday school—" No admittance, by order of
the Governor "—An extensive view . , a*
... lb<

Contents. xi

CHAPTEE XII.
A stationer's shop — A native editor — Nigger boys at cricket —
Sierra Leone cattle — Coaling by electric light — An excited
pilot — Leaving for Grand Bassam — Notes on the climate, etc. 183
CHAPTEE XIH.
Mr. Jenkins relates his experiences at Conakri — Mr. 'Shirley on
old religions and the doctor on burgundy — Tropical twilight
— First view of the Ivory Coast— Grand Bassam — A coast
surf-boat — The native crew — Parrots at a discount — Ground
sharks — Landing the shore end — Leaving for Accra ... 195
CHAPTEE XIV.
Accium, Elmina, Cape Coast Castle and Winnebah viewed from
the sea — Anchor off Accra — Difficulties in landing the shore
ends — Spoils carried off by a native crew — Fishing canoes-
Cable fouling the bridge — A nasty fall ... ... ... 209
CHAPTEE XV.
Set on for Cutanu — A hospitable reception— Iquique in troubled
times — A fever medicine — Cutanu — The charts at fault — A
French gunboat — Surf running too high to land — Little
Popo ... ... ... ... ... ... 223
CHAPTEE XVI.
Accra again — Landing in a surf-boat — A walk through the town
— Gaily dressed natives — Christiansborg — A royal visit — A
one-sided interview — His royal highness and his excellency
submit to be photographed — -An abstemious boatswain —
Getting off from shore — Improvised songs by the native
crew ... ... ... ... ... ••• 23-4
CHAPTEE XVII.
Cape Coast Castle — Jewellers and workers in native art — Jenkins
on monkeys— Grand Bassam — Arrival of the Copperfield —
Home news— Changing ships — Bavages in the wardrobe
effected by the climate — Paying out from Grand Bassam — A
midnight meeting in the ocean — Let go the final splice of the
Grand Bassam- Accra cable ... ... ... ... 252

xii Contents.

CHAPTEE XVIII. PAGE
I receive orders to land at Accra— Quarters at the hotel — A
native family party — A carriage and six — Commence watch
at the hut — Wesleyan chapel conducted by natives — A wide
guess at my host's age — The twin servants Oko and Aqueti
— Visit to the governor at Christians borg ... ... 267
CHAPTEE XIX.
A " Comedy of Errors"— One of the inconveniences of drought —
A son of Tom Peter, King of the Kroomen — The value of a
creak — An Accra farmyard — the law courts — A bewildered
prisoner — Interpreting, as a fine art ... ... ... 281
CHAPTEE XX.
A bathe in the surf — Native applications for employment — " The
way the sun goes " — Sua's " brodder " — A stolid little nigger
boy — Two visitors from the German mission — A lesson in
West African hygiene ... ... ... ... 293
CHAPTEE XXI.
Strange effects of trade rum— A monotonous watch — I revisit the
outer world — Clock birds — Tete-a-tete breakfast with mine
host — His views on slavery — Steering a bath chair — The
ship calls at last — A musical trio — Butterfly catching — The
temptations of a looking-glass — The ship catches us napping
— I receive orders to leave Accra by next mail for St.
ThomS ... ... ... ... ... ... 305
CHAPTEE XXII.
Accra market — " Dash me thrippence "' — Native customs — Break
fast at the hotel — A black majority of three to one  Their
views on politics — My host's experiences in England 
Cricket at " Lloyd's "— Schultzer has a pleasant dream-
Preparations for leaving— Call at a French merchant's 
Difficulties of departure— Waiting for the postmaster  An
anxious quarter of an hour— Safe on board the Octoroon ... 321

ON A SUEF-BOUND COAST;
OR,
CABLE-LAYffiG IN THE AFKICAN TEOPICS.
CHAPTEE I.
The start — A scientific disquisition — Befogged in the Channel —
Dinner yams.
"Just got up in time to see you off," exclaims my
younger brother, who has made his way into my rooms in
town early one fine morning in May, following rapidly a
by no means bashful application of the door-knocker and a
pealing ring at the bell. He has arrived straight from
Oxford, and is very glad of an excuse to get a day or two
in the metropolis during term time. "This looks as if
you were ready," pointing to some luggage all strapped
and duly labelled.
" Yes, after considerable difficulty, I have contrived to
squeeze all the property I wish to take with me into
those two trunks ; and now there is nothing more that I
have got to do. I think I told you that the Thracia and
the Pioneer are both anchored off Greenhithe, and I have
to be on the former by noon to-day. So we had better
start at once in order to catch the 11.5 train from Charing
Cross."

On a Surf-bound Coast.

" Well," remarks my brother shortly afterwards, as we
are driving along Piccadilly in a hansom, my two well-
filled trunks making the vehicle roll somewhat ominously,
" I quite envy you your sea voyage ; although you are
leaving England just when the climate is getting enjoy
able, and are going to visit all the fever-stricken ports on
the Western Coast of Africa."
" It is not, certainly, the time I should select for leav
ing home, if it had been left to my private choice ; but
change is always welcome, and renews, according to Lord
Beaconsfield or some contemporary philosopher, the sense
of existence in us. Consequently, I am not at all sorry to
be going, I assure you."
The company to which I belonged had just undertaken
a contract for a cable on the West Coast of Africa, calling
in at several places, mostly Portuguese and French,
between Sierra Leone, 8° north of the equator, and
S. Paul de Loanda, 8° south of it. The two smaller ships
belonging to the company, namely, the Thraeia and the
Pioneer, were starting first, to do a portion of the more
northern work, while the large ship, by name the Copper-
field, was to follow a month or two later with the main
part of the cable. I had been appointed to the electrical
staff of the Thraeia, a ship of about 1800 tons, while
the Pioneer was only 700 tons. The Thraeia was carrying
200 miles of cable, and the Pioneer 30 miles, but of the
heavy shore end type, which on account of her slight
draught she was better fitted to lay.
We are in good time for our train at Charing Cross,
and reach Creenhithe just before noon. Leaving my
luggage to follow in the porter's truck, we set off and
walk through the quiet picturesque old village down to
the wooden jetty, where we find the Thracia's steam
launch waiting, and where we are soon joined by several

Greenhithe.

of my future shipmates who had come down by the same
train and have now caught us up. We put off in the
steam launch, and as we move away from the shore, I
point out to my brother our two ships, which are anchored
nearly opposite the jetty.
" That's the Thraeia, lying almost straight ahead of us.
Graceful looking ship, isn't she ? And there is the
Pioneer anchored astern of her, lower down the river — a
much smaller vessel, you see, and more compact in
appearance." " Yes," replies my brother, " but I don't like the dirty-
white colours they are painted."
" Use before ornament ! The lighter colour is more
fitted for hot climates, and is computed to make at least
as much difference as 5° in the temperature of a ship.
After the thermometer reaches a certain height, another
degree makes its presence disagreeably evident. Besides,"
I continued, as we neared the Thraeia, " it isn't a dirty-
white, as you are pleased to call it, but a very superior
s'mde of French grey."
" Ah, that of course makes all the difference."
We are now alongside of the gangway, and soon reach
the deck.
" I will show you my cabin first." And I lead the way
to the after-part of the quarter-deck, and descend the com
panion down into the saloon.
" The saloon is pretty, isn't it ? though rather small.
It has just been altered and done up afresh. Here is my
cabin, opening out into it. It is a fair size, but I share it
with some one else, as the cabin accommodation here, like
most ships, is not enough for everybody to have one to
himself. And now you would like to go up and inspect
the machinery on deck."
" Yes," rejoins my brother somewhat hesitatingly, " I

On a Surf bound Coast.

suppose I should ; but I never took naturally to science of
any sort, so I beg as a favour you won't make use of any
formidable technical terms, or go into abstruse long-
winded explanations, because I shall get left far behind."
"Very well," smiling at his fears, "I will put my
remarks as much in the language of the early school
primers and of the children's story-teller series as I can
manage, and will try and make them intelligible, even to
you." " Thank you," is the response, accompanied by a sigh
expressive of mingled relief and patient resignation. We
go up the companion again, and turning to the port-side
we find ourselves immediately in front of a massive piece
of machinery.
" This is what we call the paying-out machinery ; that
is, the machinery which is used when the cable is being
laid. That large wheel, of about seven feet diameter and
about five feet broad, is called a drum, probably from
some distant resemblance it bears to that musical instru
ment. This end of the drum, as you see, is like a large
locomotive wheel, of one foot to eighteen inches in breadth,
only it has a tire or gauge as it is called, on each side
of it instead of only one. Eound this the cable is wound
three times on its way from the tank to the stern, in order
to give it sufficient hold of the wheel to feel the effects
of the breaks. The breaks, as you observe, run over the
remaining portion of the drum, and can be increased in
efficacy by adding to the number of the weights suspended
from them. The strain of these weights again can be
reduced or allowed its full play, through the agency of
the small hand wheel which you see behind that lofty
erection called the dynamometer."
" The what ' mometer ' ? " asks my brother with a faint
show of interest.

Cable Machinery.

" The dynamometer, or the instrument which measures
the strain to which the cable is subject from its own
weight in the water and the onward motion of the ship.
The cable, you see," I continue, approaching the dyna
mometer, "runs underneath this wheel, and the theory
is  "
" Yes," breaks in my brother, " very interesting, very
interesting indeed, so well explained, and rendered so
simple to understand. But what is that box for we have
just passed, behind the drum, with five dials and figures
in them ? "
" That is the indicator, and is connected by cog-wheels
with the drum, so that each revolution is registered, thus
keeping a record of the amount of cable already laid.
After passing the dynamometer, the cable runs out of the
ship into the sea over those sheaves or grooved wheels
astern there. You see they are made projecting out
beyond the end of the ship so as to keep the cable well
clear of the propeller. The projecting portion is called
the stern-baulks."
"Indeed," remarks my brother, looking somewhat
relieved on observing that we had got to the end of the
ship and that there was nothing more left here to be
explained to him. " No idea it was so straightforward.
You have made everything wonderfully clear. Under
stand all about it now. Will you have a cigarette ? "
" Oh, but you are not through it all yet. There is a
good deal more amidships and forward for you to see,"
rather piqued by the cool way he received my pains
taking descriptions, and making up my mind to have my
revenge by seeing that he shirked no remaining portion
of the ship. " Come along," I said, taking him by the
arm to put an end to further protestations. " I will show
you one of the cable tanks now ; " and we made our way

On a Surf bound Coast.

to the open hatchway on the quarter-deck just aft of the
funnel. "Here we are. That is the way the cable is
loaded. If you look down you will observe it neatly
coiled in the tank in level flakes round a wooden
structure in the centre called a 'cone,' possibly on
account of its shape."
" Yes, I see," he replies, making the merest pretence
of inspecting the tank ; and then adding in a conciliatory
tone on observing my earnest expression, "Looks nice
and trim, doesn't it ? "
" The cable runs out of the tank along that trough to
the friction table, which serves the double purpose of
straightening it and tightening it preparatory to passing
on to the drum. And now we will look at the electric
light machinery," leading him to an alley way beneath
a short hurricane-deck, with the engine-room one end of
it and the galley the other. " Here are the generators
— three separate dynamos. I suppose you are familiar
with this sort of machinery from your numerous visits to
the Exhibition last year ? "
"No," says my brother candidly; "never saw one of
'em. Only went in the evening into the gardens, you
know, to hear the music and that sort of thing."
" Well," I continued, accepting his explanation, " this
dynamo supplies the current for the incandescent lamps
used aft in the saloon and cabins ; this one is generally
employed for arc lamps at the masthead for work at
night; while the third is had recourse to for either purpose
when extra lights are required."
"It's rather hot here," he remarks, not deigning to
make any comment on the machines, but looking round
reproachfully at the cook in the galley just behind, as if
he was responsible for all the heat. " What do you think
the temperature is in this place ? " and he throws his hat

Electric Light Dynamos.

on the back of his head while he draws his pocket-
handkerchief across his forehead.
" Oh, this is nothing to what it will be in a week or
two, when we get into the tropics. However, as you seem
distressed, I won't keep you here any longer, but will
take you to our testing-room," leading the way forward
past a second hatchway over the main tank till we come
to a very trim deck-house immediately abaft the bridge.
" What do you think of this ? " I said, hoping to
extract at last a genuine note of admiration from my
philistinic brother.
" Might have made the roof a bit higher, at any rate,"
he replies, inspecting with some anxiety his tall hat,
about which he was always very particular when he came
to town, and which had just sustained a violent collision
with the top of the doorway.
" Oh, that's nothing. We never notice it. Don't wear
tall hats at sea much, as a rule." I had seated myself on
one of the two high stools which science deemed the only
furniture necessary for its proselytes, so that my brother
could have an uninterrupted survey of the apartment.
" Within these four walls," I began in an impressive tone,
" the concentrated wisdom of the ship gathers and per
forms its work." Belonging to the electrical staff, myself,
I felt bound in honour to put it on rather thick, this staff
being concerned with the testing and the electrical con
dition of the cable, while the engineering staff superin
tend the laying, and are responsible for its mechanical
condition. " Nicely situated, you see, nearly midships, forward of
the engines, aft of the bridge; no vibration from the
screw, and almost the minimum amount of pitch. Plenty
large enough, something like ten feet by eight, I suppose ;
well lighted, but with curtains all round to darken it

On a Surf bound Coast.

when so required for testing. Here is the mystic instru
ment by which all the testing on board ship is conducted.
It is known by the name of Sir William Thompson's
marine galvanometer."
" What ! That heavy shapeless lump of brass ! I
don't see anything very subtle about that."
"Appearances are proverbially deceptive, and I re
member you always fell a very ready victim to them.
Under that circular brass cover which you designate as
shapeless, and which is made so massive to insure
stability, is concealed some very delicate and ino-enious
workmanship. The function of a galvanometer is to
measure the strength of an electric current; and to effect
this, it is constructed to take advantage of a certain
property that copper wire wound on a coil possesses,
namely, that of becoming virtually a magnet when a
current is circulating in it, and deflecting a magnetized
needle within, so as to point towards its two ends. Ac
cordingly, in the galvanometer are two pairs of coils, and
inside the top coil is a small mirror of about a quarter of
an inch in diameter, suspended firmly on some cocoon
fibres secured at each end, and facing out through one
end of the coil. At the back of this mirror is fixed a
small magnet. When a current circulates in the coils,
this magnet, which when at rest is at right angles to the
direction of the coil, is deflected to the right or left
towards the same direction as the coil, according to the
character and strength of the current respectively A
light is thrown on to the mirror through a small slit in a
wooden scale, from a lamp which stands behind it and
is reflected back again on to the scale, on which the
varying deflection made, may be compared. On the
same principle is constructed the mirror-speakin* instru
ment, the spot of light from which moves to the°right or

Our Testing-Room.

left on the scale — to represent the dashes and dots of
the Morse code — according as the current is negative or
positive. The currents are changed by means of this
reversing key.
"That instrument there, mounted on a flat box, one
and a half feet by one, is, as you are doubtless aware,
the post-office Morse instrument. It combines the advan
tages of a sounder with those of a recorder. The sound
is produced by the attraction of an iron armature on
to the top of the iron cores of an electro-magnet, and
gives the dots and dashes of the Morse code, by making
short and long intervals between the blows. At the
same time a circular pen attached to the other end of
the pivoted armature, and the bottom of which is
immersed in an ink well, prints corresponding long and
short strokes on a strip of paper running out at uniform
pace by clockwork machinery ; " and to illustrate it I set
the instrument working.
"I have heard that clicking noise before in post-
offices," is my brother's comment, " but didn't think
much of it, and had no idea it required all that expendi
ture of ingenuity to make it work."
"Now you are better informed. Those other instru
ments are resistance boxes, condensers, special keys for
special purposes, and all the necessary appliances for
taking tests. These square glass bottles ranged symme
trically on shelves, filled with porous pots and a clear
liquid, which you doubtless mistake for water, are, as
perhaps you know, the batteries from which we get the
current for testing and sending messages. They can
also be used medicinally, and, according to some people,
with wonderful results. Would you like to try the effect
of a small shock ? " extending to him a wire in connection
with the battery.

10 On a Surf bound Coast.
" No, thank you," somewhat startled out of his com
posure and making a step back towards the door ; then,
anxious to change the subject, he says, "Is there any
thing more to see ? "
" Yes," I said, rising and passing out of the testing-
room door, under the bridge, to the forward part of the ship.
" This massive machinery, just in front of the bridge, is
the machinery for picking up cable already laid, for the
purpose of repairing or splicing on to some other length.
It is very strongly made, as the strain in great depths is
very considerable. Here is one of the buoys for buoying
cable out at sea. It is a big size, the weight on it
increasing of course with the depth. That is a mushroom
anchor, which is attached to the buoy to prevent it drift
ing. I think that is about all, unless there is anything
else you would  "
" Oh, no, thank you ; enjoyed myself immensely.
Most interesting and instructive. Such a striking array
of technical terms and such a flow of scientific informa
tion. I like that large piece of machinery in front of the
bridge. Cheerful name, and not too severely scientific.
' Pick-me-up,' I think you said."
"I see it's no use trying to get any instruction into
you, so we will go aft and see about something to eat."
Descending into the saloon we find lunch laid, and are
just in time to secure two vacant seats, several other
visitors having by this time arrived on board.
" That is the Chief Engineer in command of the expedi
tion, seated at the head of the table," I said, as soon as we
were settled. "He is a very good sort, and deservedly
popular with all on board. On his right is the doctor 
not a young man, as you see, but up to more work than
many who are considerably his juniors." And I proceeded
to point out as many others of my future shipmates as

Steaming down River. 1 1
happened to be present. When the cigars came round
we went up on deck, and shortly afterwards the visitors
prepared to leave for shore. Farewells were exchanged,
and with a " Good-bye, old fellow, I hope you will have
a good time ! " my brother descended the gangway, and
the departing guests pushed off amidst three cheers from
the ship.
Our anchor is already up, the ship is swinging round,
and soon we are following in the wake of the Pioneer,
who has got the lead through being anchored below us.
There is a short delay while the Board of Trade tug
comes alongside, her deck crowded with sailors from
the Sailors' Home, ready with their bundles to embark,
in case the ship has started without her full complement
of hands, and is in need of any more. We engage a
couple of men in this very convenient and expeditious
manner, and when they had signed on, the Board of
Trade officials leave and we are again gliding smoothly
down the river. The Pioneer, being several knots an
hour faster than the Thraeia, is steaming round a distant
bend and soon gets out of sight. We do not expect to
see her again till our rendezvous at Dakar, on the West
Coast of Africa, as she is going round to test some cables
at the Cape Verde Islands. The Thraeia is to call in at
Lisbon, to pick up the representative of the Portuguese
Government, the major portion of our work being in their
interests. At six o'clock we sit down to dinner, fifteen in all at
table, including the ship's officers and the chief ship
engineer. The first meal on board is not in any case
a very merry gathering, and less so now than at any
time, considering that we could have no pleasant
anticipations of the part of the world for which we were
bound. It is begun and ended in almost complete

12 On a Surf-bound Coast.
silence, with the exception of the usual Saturday
evening toast of " Sweethearts and wives," which is
proposed dejectedly and drunk in solemn acquiescence.
At its conclusion I retire to my cabin to write letters for
the pilot to post when he leaves us at Dover, and then I
go up on deck to find that we are at anchor off the
Girdler lightship. In the chart room I see the pilot,
released from his duties on the bridge, and surrounded
by a group of five or six of the staff to whom he is telling
yarns. They are all supplied with their special drinks,
a circumstance which no doubt serves to generate a
kindly reciprocity of feeling between the raconteur
and his audience. I come in for the tail end of an
exciting narrative. " It was a bad night," he is saying,
"and the sea kept washing over the bulwarks, and I
shouted to the boatswain, ' Clear her decks, boatswain ;
or, by gad, she'll clear herself.' It is ticklish work, I
can tell you, off those sands, with a light ship that won't
answer her helm well. If one of us do get on to them,
he's a gentleman for the next six months, for he won't
get anything to do," with which thinly veiled sarcasm at
the expense of the wealthier class of his countrymen, he
raises his glass to his lips, drains it, and saying, " I'll turn
in, gentlemen, as I shall have to be up early in the morn
ing," he disappears somewhat unsteadily from the chart
room, and it is not long before the rest of us go below.
Sunday, Mag 23rd.— At six o'clock I am awoke by the
engine's starting, and I turn out to have a look round on
deck. I find it a cool misty morning with a perfectly
motionless sea. We steam quietly and smoothly along,
as if we were still in the river, till we reach Dover, where
we drop the pilot. But as we leave the land again, the
mist thickens and closes in around us. The engines are

At Anchor in the Fog. 13
put half-speed, and the penetrating fog whistle is sounded
every few minutes with wearying monotony, and is being
answered by steam whistles and sirens of every tone
volume, and intensity, proceeding from vessels in prox
imity to us. We move slowly on to the accompaniment
of this dismal music, till we seem to be surrounded on all
sides by other ships, whose piercing whistles grow more
frequent and more impatient, and then, iu self-defence we
are obliged, about three o'clock, to come to anchor and
lie by in hope of the fog lifting. We are told that we
are just off Beachy Head, within a mile or so of the
shore, but for what we can see of the land we might be
the other side of the Channel. It is different, however,
with respect to sounds, for a peal of church bells are
distinctly audible, and prove to us that we can be no
great distance out to sea. These chimes are supposed
to be coming from Eastbourne.
None of us are in a very good humour with the weather.
It is bad enough to be travelling slowly, with so many
days of uninteresting sea voyage before one ; but when it
comes to stopping altogether, even the most patient are
at an end of their long-suffering. Here we lie, shrouded in
so dense a mist that it is impossible to see more than a
few yards from the ship, while the sea is so smooth and
glassy that not the slightest motion is perceptible on
board. The only sound is the bell rung at regular inter
vals to show we are at anchor, and is answered by one or
two other bells. Occasionally a fog-whistle grows nearer
and nearer, till it seems beneath our bows, and then it
gradually dies away again as the vessel passes slowly on
its course. Not a single ship becomes visible the whole
afternoon ; and the only object we see from the deck is
a small pleasure-boat, with its sail hanging idly by its
mast, and of its two occupants, one sitting aft by the

14 On a Surf-bound Coast.
tiller, and the other leaning over the gunwale and watch
ing us as their craft floats slowly by with the tide.
Dinner, under these circumstances, is not likely to
prove a cheerful meal. It is begun in almost complete
silence, every one gazing blankly at the table-cloth in
between the courses, or inspecting furtively such of the
company as happen to be strangers to them, and then
dropping the look on the cloth with renewed interest
when their eyes chance to meet those of the object of
their scrutiny. I make the most of the facilities thus
afforded for a quiet survey of the company at table. First
of all there is the Chief Engineer, Mr. White, who this
evening is silent and thoughtful. Then there is the cap
tain opposite to him, possessed of one of those ruddy
maritime complexions of the hue of vermilion, and with
the whites of his eyes shaded up to match. He talks
with a broad Scotch accent, and his colour deepens alarm
ingly when he warms to an interesting subject. Next
to Mr. White sits Mr. Thurston, the second in command, a
man of vast experience and corresponding aptitude. Then
there is Mr. North, superintendent for the telegraph
company for which we are laying the cables, a dark,
middle-aged man with a heavy moustache and a small
imperial, altogether, just at the present time, rather a
sombre-looking individual. The first officer is small and
slightly made, somewhere in the thirties, with a thin face
and a narrow-trimmed beard. He is very quiet, a non-
drinker and non-smoker, and adds little to the general
conversation. The electric light engineer, Mr. Mitchell
is a round-faced, round-bearded man, with spectacles,'
through which he gazes around with an air of almost
obtrusive self-possession. Mr. Boston, the chief ship
engineer, is young, inclined to be stout, good-natured
looking, but now pre-occupied and silent, with his hands

The Company assembled at Dinner. 1 5
folded — in between the courses— over his somewhat replete
figure. The second officer is small and middle-aged, with
rather a worn look for so bracing a profession. He frowns
disappointedly around him, and refuses abruptly viands
offered to him by the stewards, which are not to his taste.
The doctoT, with six or seven others, complete the
number at table.
Such conversation as takes place at first is desultory
and commonplace in the extreme. Nobody seems in the
humour or venturesome enough to disturb the unnatural
stillness pervading the whole ship. The engines are
hushed ; the screw, which is always audible in the saloon,
and seems primarily associated with it, is silent ; and so
calm is the sea that there is not even the ripple of the
water against the ship's side which one expects when
lying at anchor.
" This doesn't suit you, Mr. Boston," at length remarks
Mr. White, " coming to a standstill like this out here."
" No, sir ; it doesn't. I don't care what the weather's
like as long as we are under steam ; but this sort of thing
is more than I can stand. I like to be moving somehow.
I must go and blow her off soon, if there's no chance of
weighing anchor again just now."
Then there is another long interval of silence, broken
only by the clatter of the knives and forks, while the pat
tern of the table-cloth again becomes the object of general
interest. The captain, who is chiefly responsible for all this
solemnity, in bringing the ship to anchor, sits unmoved,
under the mask of an impenetrable indifference. But
the first officer feels the position acutely, is ill at ease
with his chief's nonchalance, and wears a look of anxious
self-exculpation. Thinking that the major portion of the
burden of conversation ought to rest with the navigating
officers on this occasion, and knowing that the captain

1 6 On a Surf-bound Coast.
will not trouble himself on that score, he falls back on his
nautical experience as a topic, and begins a story about
the perils of a fog at sea, no doubt with a view to make
us all feel as uneasy as himself.
The story was not very clearly related, but I gathered
from it that there were two ships which gradually
approached each other in a fog, till they were nearly in
collision. That calamity, however, was averted by one of
them going full speed ahead, and the other full speed
astern. There was a pause at the conclusion of this tale,
some not knowing whether it had ended, others perceiving
that it was finished but not understanding the point it
was designed to illustrate. In this uncertainty Mr.
Thurston, who was once a sea captain himself and likes
to have all his facts clear and straight before him, breaks
in and says, " Does that mean that you ought to go ahead
or go astern in a fog ? "
The suddenness of this question altogether took by
surprise the first officer, who did not expect any cross-
examination, and he tried to cover his retreat by saying
that he only meant to point out the danger of steaming
in a fog at all, a condition in which his mental faculties
appeared temporarily involved.
Jenkins, on the engineering staff, whom his worst
friends could never accuse of being shy, and who is not
much affected by circumstances or places, keeps making
observations in loud deliberate tones to the doctor opposite
to him. The doctor is rather deaf and hardly knows
when there is general conversation or not, so that if he
does happen to catch a remark addressed to himself
replies in a high and cheery voice, something not always
apropos m his endeavour to appear "au courant " with
what is being said. These replies of his occasionally
ring out when there is a general pause, and then he

A Useful Invention. if
seems quite surprised, and not a little flattered, by the
way they attract every one's attention. At length, as
the wine circulates and the conversation gets more
general, Mr. North's tongue is loosed, though his early
contributions to the talk are tinged with the same gloomy
depression which is at present depicted on his counte
nance. His first remark was not reassuring. Conversation
turning on the west coast of South America, he said
that out of thirty men who went out with him eight
years ago, seventeen were dead.
This statement created a temporary silence, no one
recovering sufficiently to put the very natural question as
to what they died of. When the sensation caused by
it was dying away, the subject of earthquakes being
introduced, Mr. North mentioned a man he knew out
there, who made a study of the phenomena, and brought
out what he called an invention for foretelling their
occurrence. This invention consisted in the very simple
method of planting champagne bottles in the ground with
their necks downwards. The bottles were to be closely
watched, and when they were observed to fall, one would
know that it was full time to move out of the house. The
usefulness of this invention is not immediately apparent,
being somewhat of the nature that people, not versed in
meteorological lore, are apt to apply to the barometer,
namely, that it does not tell you what the weather is
going to be, but merely what it is at the time, which can
be ascertained by the simple process of putting one's
head out of doors. In this case, as some one remarked,
if there was enough movement to shake the bottles down,
there would be enough to make itself felt in the house ;
and then it was hard to see how matters would be
improved by running out on to fragments of broken glass.
The captain is by this time roused from his abstrac-

1 8 On a Surf-bound Coast.
tion, and sufficiently interested to commence a story of his
own about a whale that was caught in some cable they were
about to repair, and hauled up to the surface with it. He
explained that the whale had probably got entangled in
a bight or loop of the cable, which is sometimes formed
when a splice between two ends already laid is made, this
being especially the case in great depths, as there will
then be a greater amount of slack cable on reaching the
bottom. So far, there was nothing improbable in the
tale ; in fact, it was vouched for by one or two reliable
authorities at table, who were present on the occasion.
But the captain went on to relate that on hauling the
monster up to the surface, at the bows of the ship, it was
found that he was still alive ; and that before they could
get any harpoons to kill and secure their prize, he made
a heavy lunge and disappeared into the depths again,
giving a final flap of derision with his tail.
Now we were informed by another witness of that
occurrence, that communication through the cable had
been interrupted for eight days previously. Consequently
the whale must have been caught in the noose for at
least that length of time ; and, if so, it was difficult to
see how he kept himself alive during that period, con
sidering he would have to drag several tons of cable up
with him to the surface every time he wanted to take
some fresh air. The explanation offered by this credible
witness was that the whale was no longer alive when
hauled up, but that on reaching the surface the dead
weight was too great to be further supported by the cable,
and that the body slipped through the loop with a move
ment which gave it a temporary appearance of life.
On hearing this version every one looked at the captain.
That gentlemen, however, was in no way affected by
the hostile testimony, but stuck to his tale, and stolidly

Moralising. 19

remarked, " Well, it's true ; you may say what you like,
but I saw it with my own eyes," and then relapsed into
silence again for the rest of dinner. Towards its close,
as Mr. White is not taking wine to-night, and the captain
remains speechless, the first officer assumes the duty of
proposing the usual toast of " Absent friends," which he
gives in a low and apologetic manner. Whereupon Mr.
Thurston at once takes it up in his loud, clear tones,
adding, " So far and yet so near," in allusion to our close
proximity to shore.
After dinner most of us go up to have a smoke on
deck. The mist is as thick as ever ; there is the same
unruffled, mirror-like surface to the sea, and only a few
distant fog-whistles, recurring at regular intervals with
our ship's bell, to disturb the unnatural stillness all
around. We again become silent and wrapt in thought
as we recline in our deck-chairs or lean over the bulwarks ;
the brilliant electric light, which usually illumines the
quarter-deck, being dimmed by the thick cloak of vapour.
Mr. White, near whom I happen to be sitting, begins
to moralise. " This sort of thing is depressing, isn't it ?
On such occasions one is apt to look at the vgloomy side
of things ; and at the present moment I feel as if I wished
the whole job over, and we were on our way back to
England. It is getting near the season of the year when
a week or two in some quiet nook in Devonshire presents
the most attractions for me, instead of going out, as we
are now, to get broiled by an African sun, and then return
just in time to be frozen by an English winter. But," he
adds, with a smile, " one must give up expecting to have
what one wishes, and must take things, philosophically,
as they come." Sobered by which reflection I shortly go
below, make a poor attempt at reading a book, and, being
unsuccessful, take an early refuge in my bunk.

20 On a Surf-bound Coast.

CHAPTEE II.
I make the acquaintance of the orlop-deck — World-wide travellers —
Photography at sea — The Burlicgs — Biver Tagus — The Sunbeam
— Lisbon — The town en fete for a royal marriage — Weigh anchor
for Grand Canary.
Monday, May 24.*. — When I turn out and go on deck
about seven o'clock, we are under full steam ; and I learn
that we weighed anchor at three o'clock. The fog has
lifted a little, but the sea is still quite smooth, and the
ship glides along on even keel, leaving two lines of
rippling wash widening out behind till they are lost in
the distant veil of mist. In the testing-room I find the
captain, who has been up since three o'clock, snatching
a brief interval in his long watch to get some breakfast,
and has selected for it the shelter nearest to the bridge.
I do not disturb him in the midst of his well-earned
meal, but return to the quarter-deck and descend the
hatchway above the aft tank, not having explored that
region yet, as it is my first voyage in the Thraeia.
The top of the tank is on a level with the lower deck,
and between that deck and the main is an open square
called Tank Square, surrounded by the officers' cabins.
From here I try to find my way back to the saloon ; but
in a dark passage near the steward's pantry I take a
wrong turning, and am suddenly precipitated down what
seems to be a companion-ladder on to the orlop-deck

Soudan D'Etha. 21
below. It is pitch dark, and I can see nothing at first ;
but from a distant corner a figure emerges carrying a
candle, and on approaching, I recognise the storekeeper.
He seems rather startled by my unexpected appearance,
but concluding from its disordered haste that it was not
quite intentional, he comes up and asks if I am hurt. I
tell him I am not, but confess to having felt relieved
when I stopped at his floor, as I did not know whether I
might not have to pass through another deck or two
before I found a solid basis to arrest my flight.
The day drags slowly on, and dinner finds the company
in hardly better spirits than the previous night. Jenkins,
however, seems quite unaffected, and, as usual, is the first
to commence conversation. Not possessing implicit con
fidence in the medical profession, and being accustomed to
dabble in pharmacy as far as his own wants are concerned,
he has provided himself, on account of the evil reputation
of the West Coast of Africa, with a patent fever medi
cine, known by the striking title of Soudan D'Etha, said
to be discovered by a native from the interior of Africa,
and employed by him with wonderful results on both
native and European population. This mixture he had
purchased at the Exhibition, and he now makes mention
of it to the doctor, and asks him if he would like to try
it in the event of his having any fever patients.
The doctor, who entertains a lofty professional contempt
for all unorthodox medicines, merely deigns to reply that
he would be willing to experiment with it on Jenkins, in
case he should be so unfortunate as to stand in need of
it. This response imposes a temporary silence on that
gentleman, and then there is another long pause, till
some one observes that he would like to see the sun.
" What we want," breaks in the captain, taking scant
notice of this last remark, " is a good breeze." " Speak

22 On a Surf bound Coast.
for yourself, captain," says Mr. Mitchell, who is on his
first sea voyage, and has misgivings about his sailing
powers in rough weather.
Mr. North has to-day again relapsed into a sombre
silence, and has not contributed a word towards the
general conversation. Men who have been about a good
deal are often quiet and reserved on first acquaintance
on board ship. Then, just when you have come to a
conclusion that this reserve is due to their being unac
customed to sea life, they let you know, by a few casual
observations dropped here and there, the magnitude of
their travels. But it is only when they meet one of
their own feather that the appalling immensity of their
wanderings is fully realised. The conversation then is
often after the following manner.
" Hallo ! Brown, old fellow, how are you ? haven't seen
you for an age. How have you been getting on? "
" Oh, first-rate, thank you; and how are you ? The last
time we met, I think, was at that garden party at Iquique,
on the west coast of South America."
" Oh yes, I remember. Fine times those were. Haven't
been there for years. Went to Panama and Mexico after
that, you know."
" Oh, indeed ! I must have been at San Francisco then.
Have you heard anything of Jones lately ? "
" Never seen him since we were in Alexandria together.
Hard-working fellow. Ought to have done well."
" I was three years in Borneo with him ; he got rather
seedy there."
" Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I was in hopes that he
would have joined me at Teheran, only my plans were
changed soon after I got there and I set off at two days
notice for Tobolsk. Talking of Timbuctoo  "
But by this time the untravelled tyro has grown sick

A Virtue in Excess.

at heart, and retires to ponder in solitude over these vast
experiences, feeling as small as though he had never left
his native heath.
Wednesday, May 2§th. — Yesterday the weather turned
to wet, and to-day it is still raining, and very cold and
miserable. To add to our discomfort, we are in the Bay
of Biscay, and are beginning to pitch about considerably.
The boatswain has selected this occasion to come aft with
his crew and commence scrubbing the quarter-deck with
holystone. This is a great institution with your thorough
going mariner. As long as it lasts the boatswain and his
followers are masters of the quarter-deck, maintaining an
undisputed possession of it till they have finished. They
swarm down on to it the first thing in the morning, never
later than six o'clock, and it is impossible to sleep after
they have once commenced their grating overhead.
Then comes the difficulty of knowing where to dispose of
one's self. It is useless to go and sit on one's chair on
deck, as they systematically pursue you wherever you
place it, till they drive you off the field altogether.
Even in passing along from the saloon to midships we
cannot rely on their neutrality of action, and we have to
hurry by as if we were intruders, anxious not to trespass
any longer than absolutely necessary. This would be
endurable for a couple of hours or so, but it is regarded
as a regular field day by them, and is indefinitely pro
longed, often lasting till late in the afternoon. Cleanli
ness is without doubt a most uncomfortable passion,
especially when carried to the almost fanatical degree that
sailors are wont to do. It is a wonder that the decks
last more than one voyage, and their frequent renewal
must be almost solely due to this destructive virtue.
At lunch the doctor, who feels the cold very badly,

24 On a Surf-bound Coast.
comes down rubbing his hands, and as he takes his seat
says, " Now, a bowl of punch would not be out of place in
this sort of weather," to which the captain, who js not
averse to this refreshment, replies —
" By no means, doctor. Have you got any balance ? "
referring to the doctor's wine account, and gently hinting
that if it was in a satisfactory state, he might stand it all
round. "Have I got any bounce?" says the doctor sharply,
mistaking the last word through his defective hearing,
and bristling up with injured dignity. " Yes, I have got
bounce enough for that," and is much surprised by the
loud acclamations which interrupt him as he is giving
his order to the steward.
Later on in the day the sea gets rough, and there are
several absentees from dinner. Mitchell's worst fears are
realized, and about nine o'clock he comes down, note-book
in hand, straight from his dynamo, and throws himself
despairingly on the couch at the end of the saloon with a
heart-rending " Oh, dear me ! " He is recommended to
take brandy neat, which he does, although a teetotaller,
but with still more disastrous effects.
Friday, May 28th. — We are at length through the bay,
and steaming along in sight of the rugged and barren
coast of Portugal. The rain has ceased, a gentle southern
breeze is blowing, a bright sun shines down from an almost
cloudless sky, and the sea is only just enough to cause a
pleasant swaying of the ship from one side to the other.
We sit on the quarter-deck enjoying the welcome
change, and watch a large steamer which has been gaining
on us steadily for some little time. The second officer
declared her to be the Poonah, when she was still a long
distance off, too far to read the name with a glass, and

The Burlings. 25

almost too far to see how she was rigged. It seems curious
to a landsman how sailors sight a distant ship and give a
name to her at once, although there must be hundreds of
others of the same size and nearly the same build ; yet
they are oftener right in their conjectures than one would
be inclined to think. In this case the ship, which had
now come up nearly level with us on our port-quarter,
turned out to be what the second officer had declared her.
As she is very close, two amateur photographers get
out their cameras and fix them up to take her. But
photography at sea when the ship is rolling requires
considerable practice to be successful in it, and although
the two cameras were both provided with instantaneous
shutters, neither of the operators caught the right
moment, and one plate came out all sea. while the other
was all sky, without a single spar of the ship they wished
to take appearing in either of them. The Poonah, how
ever, is travelling faster than we are, and does not give
them another opportunity, but, forging ahead, crosses our
bows, and grows smaller and smaller till she disappears
below the distant horizon.
And now on our starboard bow appear the Burlings
Islands, the larger one with a lighthouse and a small fort
erected on it, while the smaller one is nothing more than
a bare rock. We pass quite close to the latter and set
flocks of seagulls flying round over the dark green waters
which dash into white foam against the high brown cliffs.
Farther out to sea are several white-sailed fishing boats
tossing gaily on the waves. Leaving the Burlings Islands
we go in nearer shore and slow down to pick up the pilot
off the mouth of the Tagus. We then steam up what I
am told is the middle channel, between a lighthouse iu
the centre of the river and the north bank, on which there
stands a large white fort. The Tagus here is only about

26 On a Surf-bound Coast.
as broad as the Thames at Gravesend, but on reaching
Lisbon, some ten miles higher up, it widens into a large
basin like an inland sea and so extensive, that in one
direction land is quite invisible.
At the entrance we are passed by one of the royal
mail steamers coming down the river, and then follows a
beautifully appointed private steam yacht. She dips to
us and runs up her name on the flags, which on reference
to the code bookis found to be the Sunbeam.
"She knows this ship, sir," says the boatswain, who
happens to be standing watching her just near to me.
" We met her in the Magellan Straits, where we were
both anchored together one night, and Sir Thomas and
Lady Brassey came on board. Ah, she's a proper woman,
she is;" which adjective in his vocabulary summed up all
that was expressive of boundless admiration and respect.
On the south side of the river steep banks covered
with grass run straight up from the water's edge to a
considerable height, with occasionally a deep wide rift,
in which lies sheltered a picturesque villa, often surrounded
by a small plantation. On the north, for some distance
inland the country is bare, flat, and uninteresting, till
in the distance rise the wooded heights of the royal
domain of Cintra, with the summit of the castle just
appearing from the other side of the top of the ridge.
Most of us are assembled on the bridge, in order to
command a better view of the river and its banks. The
Portuguese pilot, a stout, dark, bearded man in a gigantic
overcoat, is walking up and down smoking a cigarette,
and now and then ejaculating "port" or "starboard,"
with his decided foreign accent, to the man at the wheel.
In the intervals between these exclamations the captain
makes inquiries of him about what has been going on in
Lisbon, as it is the end of the week of festivities in honour

The River Tagus. 27
of the marriage of the Duke of Braganza. The pilot,
whose English is all very well so long as he confines him
self to nautical terms, gets into difficulties in communi
cating his thoughts on other subjects, and talks a most
incomprehensible medley of that language and his own.
The captain cannot understand a word of it, and Jenkins,
who has been listening to this attempt at conversation,
says to him —
"Now, captain, you can't want anything plainer than
that ! Why don't you answer him ? "
The captain, with some finesse, escapes from the diffi
culty by offering the pilot a very big cigar, which
effectually closes his mouth, for some time at any rate.
Anchored in the river is every description of steamer
and sailing vessel, and Jenkins, with his maritime instincts
fully aroused, finds plenty of subjects for admiration and
criticism, of which he does not hesitate to deliver himself
in round terms whenever he can get an audience. On
this occasion there is a good number about him, and he
is holding forth on his favourite topic with no little
warmth. " There's a clean little thing for you ! " I hear him
saying, as we pass a trim bark. " There's symmetry !
there's lines ! Look at her yards ! Look at her stays !
Look  "
But the rest of this impassioned eulogy is unfortunately
lost, for just at that point some one breaks in, " Why,
there's horse-racing going on over there," pointing to
the north bank a little higher up the river ; and glasses
are at once raised to inspect the course. On arriving
nearly opposite we have a good view, as it is on open
ground rising gently from the bank. The stands are
crowded, the royal pavilion looking especially brilliant,
and round the course are ranged lines of curious-shaped

2 8 On a Surf bound Coast.

carriages, the whole under the surveillance of mounted
patrols. The race-ground is in a large field, and from
the height and colour of the crop out of which the course
is cut, appears more like a cornfield than a hayfield. If
so, a fall on the short stubble would not be a pleasant
incident for either horse or jockey.
As we are leaving the race-course behind, a figure
appears running down from it to a small wooden jetty on
the bank below, and gesticulating wildly with a stick.
The captain at first takes no notice, but when the figure
is observed to get into a boat with four boatmen, and row
vigorously after us, he slows the ship down to allow
them to overtake us. On reaching the gangway the
figure is discovered to be one of the managers for the
company for which we are laying the cable, who was
expecting us at Lisbon. He had caught sight of the
ship from the race-course as she was coming up the river,
and not wishing to lose any time in paying us a visit,
determined to run down and hail us from the bank. We
steam on again, tugs representing various interests
coming alongside, putting some one on board and casting
off again as we go on our way.
On nearing the town on the north bank, we pass a
picturesque old Moorish castle, and further on the fine
old Abbey of Belem. The town itself shows to great
advantage from the river, running up from the water's
edge to a lofty ridge of hills behind ; all the large public
buildings and churches standing out distinctly in the
clear atmosphere. To the left, outside the town is the
royal palace, a large square block of white stone, looking
rather bare and isolated. The river here is just opening
out into the wide inland basin, with a small fishing village
in the distance, on the side opposite to Lisbon.
By six o'clock we have let go anchor off Black Horse

Rolling Motion Square. 29
Square, in about the centre of the river frontage. The
sun is going down, and the air is very chilly, considering
the time of the year and the southern latitude we have
already reached.
After dinner a party of us go ashore. The tide
rushes in at a great speed past the town, so much so
that accidents sometimes occur through ships dragging
their anchors ; although, according to the harbour regu
lations, every vessel is compelled to let go two of them.*
Getting ashore in a rowing boat is a long business ; but,
to-night, being in our steam launch, we accomplish the
distance in a very short time. We find the town still
celebrating the royal marriage. In Black Horse Square
are two temporary band stands, at the present time un
occupied, and a row of gas jets running round outside the
houses. The principal streets are similarly illuminated,
and we find the pavements thronged with the inhabitants,
come out with their wives and children, moving slowly
along and gazing up in silent admiration of the brilliant
lights. At Boiling Motion Square, so called — as all
visitors to Lisbon know — on account of the waving
pattern of gray and white mosaic on the pavement, the
streams of people from the different quarters of the town
meet and form an almost compact mass. The royal
party have just driven down to the theatre, and the empty
carriages on their way back are at present engrossing
the attention of the crowd. We go and see if we can get
into the theatre, but it has long been filled to excess. So
we pass on through the crowded streets, singularly quiet,
in spite of the numbers, for the roadway is occupied as
well as the pavement by foot-passengers, and any vehicles
there are have to go at walking pace. The only voices
* It will be remembered that an accident of this character recently
happened to H.M.S. Sultan when anchored off Lisbon.

30 On a Surf bound Coast.
audible are those of the newspaper boys crying out the
latest news, no doubt the result of to-day's racing, and
the doings of the royal household. On coming to the
circus we see an opera company announced there, and
accordingly go in. It is a lofty, spacious building, with
the arena at present boarded and covered with chairs.
At the time of our entry a stout village damsel is declaim
ing with more vigour than harmony to a chorus of her
companions. None of us understand what is going on,
but to judge by the expression of those of the audience
who do, we are not losing much. After sitting it out about
halfway through, we make our way back through the
emptying streets to the river side, and get off to the ship.
Saturday, May 29th. — At breakfast we have fresh
milk, butter, and eggs, delicacies which were not often
seen on board ship, and are proportionately welcome
when they happen to appear. After breakfast, I go
ashore with two others to see something of the town by
daylight. It is a fine morning, and the sun strikes down
with considerable heat in the narrow streets, sheltered
from the wind. There are plenty of people out; the
fair sex looking particularly fresh in their light summer
toilettes, so well in unison with the warm weather. In
the principal thoroughfares the shops are very good,
with well-stocked windows. The prices of articles, how
ever, to a stranger, are not immediately evident from the
tickets attached to them. For instance, in a jeweller's
shop one would see a small silver locket marked 3500
reis. That looks a very big sum, considering the size
and make of the article, and one begins to think that
people in Lisbon must be very rich to afford all that
money for such small ornaments. On inquiry, however,
the value of a rei is found to be one-twentieth of a penny,

Lisbon Tramcars. 31
so even 3500 of them amount to no very ruinous total.
The houses themselves are faced with plaster and stucco,
and are mostly painted white, though a good many are
light pink or light blue. These colours might have a
pretty effect if the paint was only fresh, but being faded
and streaked with age and exposure, while the plaster
is cracked and pealing off, a neglected and somewhat
decayed appearance is presented by the town.
We ascended the upper town by a very narrow street
in a car running on metals. This car is drawn up by a
cable attached to another one descending from the top.
In order to give the latter the necessary weight to pull
up the one below, there is a water supply at the top, by
which a large tank underneath the car is filled. On
reaching the bottom, the water is run off, and the car
at the top is filled in turn. By this simple method steam
is adequately replaced at only the small cost of so much
water a day.
We lunched at the Hotel Braganza, the best hotel,
and most frequented by the English, situated in the
higher part of the town, in a very quiet, out-of-the-way
corner. From this hotel there is a fine uninterrupted
view of the river and the lower town. After lunch we
returned to the jetty, taking advantage of one of those
street tramcars with which Lisbon, like most European
towns of any size, is now overrun. The majority of the
cars are open, with an awning over the top. Many of
them have ordinary wheels without tires, so they can go
off and on the metals at pleasure. Consequently, you
sometimes see an impatient driver, who has been follow
ing a slow-running car in front, suddenly drive off the
track, canter gaily past on the other pair of metals, and
then come back to his proper side as soon as he has got
sufficiently ahead.

32 On a Surf-bound Coast.
At the jetty we take a boat, and as there is a fresh
breeze the men, who never lose an opportunity of saving
themselves labour, put up a sail, and we make a very
fair passage to the ship. Soon after we have got on
board a small rowing boat comes struggling up to our
gangway against the strong wind. In the stern are a
nun and a young girl, apparently her attendant. They
neither of them seem to like the tossing about, which they
are getting in the choppy waters of the mid-river, and it
is with an audible sigh of relief that the nun finds herself
at length safe on our accommodation-ladder. We are at
a loss to understand the object of her visit, but some one
suggested that she might have come for the washing —
a vision passing through his mind of a sisterhood in
London who drive about for that purpose. The third
officer receives her at the top of the gangway with a
polite bow, which she returns, and then addresses a ques
tion to him in Portuguese. That gentleman, not know
ing the language, but anxious to show that his mother
tongue was not the only one with which he was
acquainted, replies, with the best Parisian accent he
could command, but with questionable idiomatic accu
racy, " Je ne comprends pas la Portugaise."
A smile of pleasure, or it might be of amusement,
flitted temporarily over the features of the lady, and
then she poured out a long story in the French tongue
to the bewildered officer. It was a good deal more than
he could manage by himself, and he looked round appeal-
ingly to us. So we draw near to them, and the nun
again went through her tale in French, accompanied by
many excited gesticulations, and then between us we at
length made out that she had not come in search of
washing, as was at first conjectured, but to collect money
in behalf of an orphan establishment with which she was

Weighing Anchor for Grand Canary. 33
connected, and that she had brought the young girl as
a specimen of what they did, in order to enlist our
sympathies in the good cause.
When the third officer grasped the situation, he
gallantly took off his cap and came round to us all in
turn, and, after handing the proceeds of this impromptu
collection to the good lady, advised her in halting French
to go forward and try her luck among the men. Here
she was not quite so successful, to judge from the short
stay she made; and she soon left the ship, with many
protestations of eternal gratitude to the sympathetic
officer, which he could not have appreciated more, even
if he had understood them.
The representative of the Portuguese Government had
now arrived on board, and, after going below to drink a
welcome to him, we weigh anchor about five o'clock for
Grand Canary, where we are to coal and take in pro
visions. At dinner we find the table decorated with two
magnificent bouquets of flowers, which the steward had
procured, some say, in honour of the Queen's birthday,
which is being celebrated to-day, others, with less loyalty
and greater cynicism, simply because there were plenty
of them to be got at Lisbon. We drink to the Queen,
and then to the Duke and Duchess of Braganza. The
doctor is in good spirits, but finds fault with the cigar he
has just lighted, saying —
"I don't think much of this cigar I had given me
to-day." " Good thing," says Jenkins, "you only had one instead
of a boxful of them."
The doctor remains silent, trying to follow out the
logic of that remark, but after a time gives it up ; and,
as a happy thought, noticing it had been neglected, gets
up and proposes with great effusion the toast of " Sweet-
D

34 On a Surf-bound Coast.
hearts and wives." Mitchell, who has a wife, and a very
pretty one, inverts the toast emphatically to " Wives
and sweethearts ; " which Jenkins, sotto voce, amends still
further to "Our own sweethearts and other people's
wives." On deck it is a close sultry night, with threatening
clouds, unpleasantly suggestive of the tropics.

( 35 )

CHAPTEE III.
Strong head-winds — Fire muster — Our amateur photographer at
work — Las Palmas, Grand Canary — An impetuous driver —
Ascension Day at the Cathedral — Lunch at the hotel — A
precocious Spanish boy.
Sunday, May 30th. — To-day there is a heavy sea, and
the ship is rolling and pitching badly. The sky,
however, is a clear blue, with only here and there a
fleecy cloud. A bright sun is shining, and the wind,
which is causing all this commotion, though very strong,
is quite warm, and recalls the welcome breeze of an
English summer day. It is almost pleasant on deck,
and I take up a position in the stern-baulks and watch
the waves rolling past the ship. The baulks, as already
described, support the sheaves or runners over which the
cable is paid out into the sea, and they extend several
feet out from the stern, in order to keep the cable well
clear of the propeller. Eound the baulks runs a double
railing against which I post myself. From this point it
is possible to see the whole length of the ship right to
the bows, as well as the water directly underneath. The
sea is a deep blue colour, except where the summit of
a huge wave dissolves itself into a white crest of bubbling
foam. Looking below me I can see in the clear, glassy water,
the blades of the screw plodding steadily round, one

36 On a Surf-bound Coast.
after the other, displaying their white surfaces to view
like the fins of some sea monster gleaming beneath the
wave. As I watch, the water, which but a moment
before was only a yard or two below me, is suddenly
withdrawn some thirty feet beneath ; and thent just as
the tips of the blades begin to thrust themselves above
the surface, it rushes up again in one white seething
mass of foam. Amidst all the turmoil the rudder can be
seen manfully at its work, now inclined a little to
starboard and now to port, but fixed and steadfast at its
post, in spite of the violent whirl of waters all around it.
Mother Carey's chickens are flying placidly astern of us
in quest of food, and sweep down the deep valleys of the
azure water as gracefully and unconcernedly as swallows
down an inland stream.
It is a fresh experience, these mountain waves, urged
by a warm summer wind, and lightened by a dazzling
sun. With such surroundings, the tossing of the ship,
which is mostly associated in one's mind with bitter
winds and leaden skies, loses its objectionable character,
and adds to the wild pleasure of the scene. The ship
is dancing up and down like a cork in troubled waters.
For the first time she seems endowed with life and
independent action, instead of being merely a huge inert
mass propelled supinely by the hidden power from
behind. As the stem rises on the summit of a lofty
wave, from my elevated post I look down the whole
length of the ship, which now seems about to dive head
long beneath the following one towering high above
the bows. But the plunge, apparently inevitable, is
never taken, and the vast wave, so menacing and
boisterous a moment gone, seems small and insignificant
as we ride securely on its crest.
The motion of the ship, however, is not confined to

Blowing half a Gale. 37
pitching. The wind being on the starboard bow, we
are not "head on" to the sea, and consequently get it
enough abeam to make the ship roll badly. This does
not happen usually without a warning. Perhaps, as we
poise momentarily on the summit of a wave, there is a
slight shock perceptible, and then we know intuitively
what to expect. While the ship shoots down into the
trough below, there is a rapid heel to one side till the
gunwales are nearly level with the water and a portion of
the sea comes rushing in. Then there is a quick recovery
and a rapid swing to the other side, till a nearly similar
angle is reached. And so we are tossed from one side to
the other, the oscillation, however, growing less and less,
till her balance is restored. Then for a few moments we
move as straight and steady as though on the tranquil
bosom of a sheltered lake. But it is for a few moments
only. As she has just surmounted a wave, an awkward
sea, following more quickly than usual, strikes her bows
with a shock that makes the good ship groan from stem
to stern, and losing her equipoise she heels over and
commences once again her rapid roll.
While I am watching the scene from my vantage-
ground I am joined by Jenkins, and remark to him, by
way of conversation, that there is a "bit of a sea on."
Now if there is one thing your thorough-going mariner
has an inveterate aversion to, it is being told by any one
unconnected with the profession that the sea is at all
rough. He never will allow it, and makes it a point of
honour on every occasion to contradict it. Although not
actually on the navigating staff this voyage, Jenkins'
instincts and sympathies are with his previous calling,
so I am not entirely taken by surprise when he
exclaims —
" Call this a sea ? Why, there ain't any sea but what

0

8 On a Surf-bound Coast.

she's making herself. There's just enough breeze for a
nice little sail in a pleasure boat, why  " But the
rest of his sentence was almost literally drowned, for just
at that moment a big sea washed over her starboard
quarter, and rushing down within the bulwarks dashed
violently against the chain gratings, sending up a heavy
shower of spray and wetting us both through to the skin.
Jenkins, after shaking himself, gave me a smile accom
panied with a confidential wink, and saying, rather
inconsequently, "I told you so, only you wouldn't
believe me," goes below to get a change of raiment, an
example which I am not slow to follow.
At dinner there are seven absentees from table, with
headaches; at least, that is the reason they give to
account for their absence the next morning. The
doctor, after spilling some of his soup for the third
time into his lap, gets up with something very like a
wrong expression on his lips, remarking that, "taking
dinner under these circumstances is more trouble than
it is worth." Jenkins, fresh from his late adventure,
preserves his usual spirits unruffled by the weather, and
in order to cheer, presumably, the thinned and dejected
company present, draws upon his stock of nautical
experiences to entertain us. One was about a certain
captain, with whom he had once sailed, and who was so
much addicted to the pleasures of good cheer and good
company, that the proper discharge of his duties was
considerably interfered with. On one occasion, after an
unusually heavy night, he turned out the following day
about a quarter to twelve, and made his way on to the
bridge with his quadrant to take the sun. But only
a short time elapsed, when his patience got exhausted,
and exclaiming, " Confound the sun, it's never going to
get up ! Quarter-master, make it eight bells," he went

Jenkins entertains the Company. 39
aft again and turned in till evening brought its usual
round of dissipations.
This tale is received with but a languid interest.
Jenkins, however, continues, unabashed —
"I was on the bridge once with the same captain,
when catching sight of a barque sailing right across our
bows, he lost his head and shouted out to the man at the
wheel, ' Hard-a-port.'
" ' Hard-a-port it is, sir,' replies the man, as he executes
the order.
"Perceiving, however, his mistake immediately after
wards, though not wishing to confess himself in the
wrong, he turns round to the steersman and cries —
" ' Why, you blockhead, you've put the helm to port.'
" ' You said " Hard-a-port," sir.'
" ' I didn't say " port," you impudent scoundrel ; I said
" Hard-a-starboard." Didn't I, Mr. Jenkins ? ' appealing
to me.
" ' Yes, sir ; ' I replied, with great promptness."
" Eather rough on the ' man at the wheel,' " remarks
some one sympathetically.
" That's all very well," replies Jenkins ; " but discipline
must be preserved. Being first officer, I couldn't stand
by and hear a quarter-master contradict the captain.
Besides," he adds, as a passing afterthought, "if I
hadn't backed the old man up, it would have been as
much as my job was worth."
The merest glimmer of a smile flitted momentarily
round the table, and then every one relapsed into silence
again, till " Absent friends " was given and drunk with
great dejection. Then one by one, the saloon is emptied
of its occupants.
There was no temptation to go on deck, as it was
blowing harder than ever, so I stayed below and picked

ao On a Surf bound Coast.

up a sixpenny novelette which I found unclaimed. It
was one of the goody-goody sort, with the little vice that
was in it poor and half-hearted stuff. The ladies for the
most part were chosen models of a punctilious morality
and a morbid sentimentalism, with tears always ready to
well up into their eyes, in sympathy alike with deserved
and undeserved misfortune. The gentlemen were careless,
good-for-nothing fellows, with unknown depths of passion
ascribed to them, of which the outer world, fortunately,
knew nothing. It is hard to read the most enthralling
novel when one is thrown alternately on the top of the
table, and then on to the back of one's chair with a
violence that seems to threaten dislocation of the neck ;
but the attention goes altogether astray when the book is
a commonplace one. The motion of the ship somehow
obtrudes itself into the narrative, and when you come to
a passage like this, " Lord Geraldine brought up a chair
and seated himself beside her," you say at once to
yourself, " What a very incautious thing to do without
having it carefully lashed there first. He ought never to
have let go of the door handle till he could steer for
something properly secured," and then a languid interest
is aroused for the next few lines to see how long he will
remain in his seat without being upset.
Monday, May 31st. — It is much warmer, but the rolling
is as bad as ever, and interferes considerably with the
night's rest of even the oldest sailors. Meals, as is
usually the case on board ship, are the only events that
excite general interest during the day. At dinner there
are only three absentees. Our dinners are conducted
with great order, and an utter disregard of such a vulgar
thing as time. The chief steward is a man of system,
and has drilled his subordinates up to a very high degree
of proficiency. He himself takes up his stand at the end

Waiting at Table, a fine Art. 41
of the saloon by the sideboard, and puts his men through
their work with the skill of a general in the field or a
ballet-master on the stage.
The signal for the different manoeuvres is a small
handbell which he has by him on the sideboard. One
strike is to get ready, two to clear away. In order that
these evolutions may be executed uniformly and all at
the same time, no course is brought on the table till
everybody has finished the preceding one. Conse
quently, there are often pauses of considerable duration,
whilst some one who is paying more attention to the
conversation than to the dinner, is leisurely progressing
with his meal. When his plate is at last removed,
the first strike of the bell is given. At this sound the
stewards take up their positions at regular intervals each
side of the table, and watch the chief's eye for the second
signal as anxiously as a choir the conductor's baton.
When the double ring is given each steward seizes upon
his apportioned number of dish and vegetable covers, and
then they march off solemnly with them to the pantry,
as much in step as the rolling of the ship will admit of.
This military formalism provokes the sea-going prejudices
of Mr. Thurston, and when, after an unusually long pause,
the double ring has at length been sounded, and the chief
steward has temporarily withdrawn, he remarks —
" I could not make out at first what we were all waiting
for. Well, if the chief steward goes in for this sort of
thing at all, why doesn't he do it thoroughly ? He might
have invisible wires attached to the dish covers and run
ning up into a deckhouse through the skylights. Then,
when he sounds the bell, they would all disappear aloft
as if by magic, and his trained band could at once pounce
down upon the dishes and hand them round the table
before their bewildered victims had time to remember

42 On a Surf-bound Coast.
what course it was, or to decide which entree they
preferred." After dinner, as the wind has gone down, we sit on
deck. It is a clear night, and the sky is crowded with
stars. Jenkins delivers, unsolicited, a short impromptu
lecture on astrology, and it is followed by a heated dis
cussion on the same subject, in which the different
classical names receive, in different quarters, severe ill-
treatment. Jenkins then proposes an adjournment to the saloon
for " Poker," and about half a dozen of us go below with
that object. We are not very great at cards, and this
is the first occasion we have had them out as yet. On
several declaring they are not sufficiently acquainted with
Poker, that game is abandoned in favour of " Nap." This
latter, at first, does not seem likely to meet with much
better success, for Alford, who is one of the party and not
an ardent player, says, as he rests his head meditatively
on one arm, " Let me see, what's Nap ? " which the third
officer follows up by exclaiming, " Ton my soul, I've for
gotten how to play ! " However, the game is commenced,
and it is surprising to see how quickly they both pick it
up again after the first few losses.
Wednesday, June 2nd. — Yesterday was quite in cha
racter as the "glorious first of June," and to-day it is a
lovely morning, with a bright sun, a cloudless sky, a soft
warm breeze, and the thermometer standing at the agree
able temperature of 73° F. The awning over the quarter
deck, which had been spread while lying in the river off
Lisbon, but which had been taken down again during the
rough weather encountered on leaving it, is again brought
out and put up.
We are gathered aft in our deck chairs, enjoying the

The Sailor s Plank. 43
warm air and the pleasant motion of the ship, which
is swaying idly from side to side in the sparkling
waves, and moving as quietly, as if she were being
rocked at anchor, instead of slipping through the water
under full steam. Some of the crew are engaged in
painting the ship's side, standing on planks suspended by
ropes from each end, and with only a hand-rope hanging
from above with which to maintain their balance. They
are, however, quite at their ease, as sailors appear to be in
any position, and are laughing and talking, without paying
any attention to the roll which sometimes threatens to
put their board beneath the waves.
" I suppose," remarks Jenkins, " that the author of that
saying had this sort of business in his eye, when he talked
about sailors having only a plank between them and
eternity." At noon the fire-bell sounds, and we are roused from
our pleasant quarters aft for muster at the boats. I had
neglected to learn which boat I was assigned to by con
sulting the list put up in the saloon, so I go down to do
so now. After looking some little time in vain for my
name, I discover it put down under the list for the first
cutter. I have not yet made the first cutter's acquaint
ance, so I go up on to the bridge, as being the most
elevated position from which to descry it.
All hands, with the exception of the quarter-master on
duty at the wheel, and those on watch in the engine-room
and stokehole, have left their work and are standing by
the boats allotted to them, with their cork belts fastened
round them. Those in command of each boat are calling
out the names included in their list. Doubtless the third
officer is somewhere engaged in calling out my name ; but
at present I neither see nor hear him, so remain on the
bridge, looking as much like the disinterested spectator

44 On a Surf-bound Coast.

as I can. Soon, however, I hear some one shouting for
me, and catch sight of the third officer standing by a boat
on the port side just below the bridge. I descend on to
the deck, and say, by way of explanation, that I was not
aware that this boat was the first cutter. ".Well, it isn't,,
you know," he replies, " it's the surf-boat ; but it's all the
same, and you needn't be so jolly exact." And resting
his book on the top of the enormous life-belt with which
he was equipped, and which extended considerably in front
of him, forming a convenient ledge, he proceeded to call
over the rest of the names, and then the boatswain's
whistle dismissed the muster.
In the afternoon, Alford, our most energetic amateur
photographer, has an opportunity which he is not slow
to take advantage of. It is nearly four o'clock, and the
quarter-deck boasts of only six occupants. The rest have
gone below and turned in for the afternoon nap, which
possesses on board ship such an irresistible attraction,
and which also affords so pleasant a way of getting through
no small portion of the monotonous existence. The six
who remain might just as well have turned in like the
others, for they are every one fast asleep in their easy
chairs, the books they have been reading in their laps or
fallen on the deck beside them, their limbs in all the
graceful postures lent by sweet unconsciousness.
Alford, who has had his nap below, comes up, and catching
with an artist's eye the picture stretched before him, gets
out his camera, and at once proceeds to transfer it to his
plate. He has just taken two good photos from different
points of view, when a steward comes up with the tea,
and the six victims, waking up one by one, see to what
they have been exposed and begin to make remonstrances.
Alford attempts, to soothe them by saying that it's an
excellent photo, all of them coming out wonderfully well,

Las P almas, Grand Canary. 45
and remarking that it is probably the only time in their
lives that they have ever been taken with a natural
expression on their features. With this questionable
piece of comfort, perceiving that they have no remedy in
their hands, they swallow their resentment with their
tea, in a fairly equable, though somewhat chastened frame
of mind. Thursday, June 3rd. — With early dawn we reach Grand
Canary, the largest island of the group, and belonging
like the others to the Spanish crown. By 5.30 a.m. we
have let go anchor off the coaling depot, which lies some
three miles distant from the town of Las Palmas.
The island from the sea looks burnt and barren, hardly
any green grass or trees being visible ; but the coal agent,
who has just come on board, tells us that there is plenty
of both further inland, where there is also some very
beautiful scenery. The town, built on a gentle ascent
from the sea, shows to advantage with its blocks of white
houses, and the two large towers of the cathedral standing
out conspicuous above them all. As soon as we have got
" Pratique," several boys come on board with canaries and
parrots for sale. The canaries, confined in pretty well-
made wicker-cages, are not much in demand, but some of
the parrots, which had been procured from home-bound
steamers from the coast, are purchased, at unwarrantably
high prices.
After breakfast, a party of us go ashore to see the
town. The water here is a very pretty shade of light
blue, and so clear and transparent that the bottom is
distinctly visible from the ship's side. We land at the
stone mole, at the end of which is a fine crane con
structed to lift forty tons. Here we find several wag
gonettes running for hire between the mole and the

a_6 On a Surf-bound Coast.
town. We get into one with an awning on the top and
drawn by a pair of mules. No sooner are we seated, than
the driver puts the animals into a brisk canter, making
a very free use of his whip and occasionally standing up
to give it more effect. The trap is rather old, and it
sways and creaks unpleasantly as we spin along the smooth
white road, leaving a sinuous course behind us with its
wheels. There are some very sharp bends and curves,
which the driver makes a special point of going round at
his fullest speed, presumably to show how fast they can
drive in Grand Canary without actually upsetting any
one. As the road is very narrow, and there is a deep
ditch each side, these eccentricities are not so welcome
as the driver no doubt intends them to be.
The sea is on our left as we drive along, so that we
are surprised, after a short distance, by its appearance on
the right as well. We are evidently travelling along the
neck of a peninsula, which here is nothing more than
a bar of sand between two seas.
On nearing the town the houses are at first low white
structures of only one storey, but farther on they become
larger and better built. We pass on our left a small
public garden bright with large geranium plants, and
which we are told is called Victoria Gardens, by the
English residents. Soon we get on to the rough,
uneven cobbles with which the town is paved, and the
pace over these being too much to be pleasant in our
rickety conveyance, we alight and walk. We are tempted
into a tobacconist's shop by the reports we have heard of
the good cigars to be obtained here. North has an
opportunity of airing his South American Spanish with
the lady behind the counter, and discovers that that
language is spoken with considerable local variety in
different quarters of the globe.

The Market. 47

On continuing our walk we come to a large stone
bridge, with three fine arches, over a rough waterway
strewn with big rounded boulders. Each side of this
broad watercourse is protected by a massive stone
embankment, and the only thing wanting to complete
the picture is a river, there not being a single drop
of water visible. In talking of this bridge, people whom
you meet here take the opportunity of repeating the
witticism of that American who said to an inhabitant of
a town possessing a similar anomaly, "I guess you had
better buy a river, or sell that 'ere bridge."
On the left, after crossing the bridge is the market,
which is a fine building, lofty, and particularly cool.
Here we find the chief steward ordering provisions for the
ship. The supply of fruit is especially good, and Grand
Canary is fast becoming a very favourite port for ships to
coal and provision at, in preference to St. Vincent, the
most northerly of the Cape Verde Islands, which used to
monopolize all the trade in these respects. The only
drawback is that the anchorage off Las Palmas is an open
roadstead, which is dangerous with a certain wind, while
the harbour of Porte Grande, St. Vincent, is almost com
pletely land-blocked, having the island of San Antonio
stretching across, opposite the entrance. The Canary
islanders are, however, causing a large breakwater to be
constructed, which, when it is finished, they hope will
make Las Palmas the best harbour of any of the west
Atlantic islands.
From the market we make our way through the narrow
paved streets towards the cathedral, guided by the two
domes which are visible from every quarter of the town.
The houses are nearly all painted white, and most of
them have canaries on the wall outside in their neat
wicker-work cages. The streets seem very empty and

48 On a Surf-bound Coast.
quiet. As we are near the cathedral we see one or two
Spanish girls, with the white linen covering over the head
and shoulders, under which show to such advantage their
large dark eyes, hurrying towards it, and further on three
ladies dressed completely in black, with sunshades, and
using their fans with great persistence as they move
slowly along in the same direction.
We have now reached the building, and decide to go in
and look at the interior. The first door we try is locked.
Then we come round to what appears to be the principal
entrance, consisting of two large folding doors, but these
are also secured. We begin to think that the cathedral
is closed and that it is somewhere else that the people are
going to, when up a narrow side street we observe a
small door let into a massive stone wall. We enter and
find ourselves in a courtyard cloistered round, and with a
few orange trees growing in the centre. At the opposite
corner is another door, and passing through this we are
led at once into a building of great height and considerable
architectural beauty, with nearly the whole of its vast area
filled with people. After the quiet and deserted appear
ance of the streets, and the absence of public buildings of
any size or magnificence, this sudden introduction into
a lofty structure thronged with people was as curious a
change as it was unexpected.
On the side we entered, row after row of women, all in
their clean white mantas, are kneeling on the bare stone
floor in different attitudes of devotion ; while at the rear
a few ladies, apparently of the richer class, are kneeling
on hassocks or are seated on chairs. On the opposite side
are both men and women, but mostly men, standing up
with faces turned towards the altar. The roof of the
cathedral is of handsome stonework, with small apertures
through which the sun's rays strike obliquely across the

The Feast of the Ascension. 49
vast interior. A row of windows, composed of small
circular panes of different coloured glass, runs along each
side immediately beneath the roof. Then come the lofty
arches supported by tall graceful columns. The altar is
very rich and handsome, and at the other end is the
organ and choir stretching right across the nave from
one row of pillars to the other.
As we enter, a beautiful selection of sacred music is
being rendered by a fine tenor voice, supported by a full
choir and a band of stringed instruments in addition to
the organ. The boys' voices are not so good, being like
the organ, of a somewhat metallic ring. All the per
formers are invisible to the public gaze. On approaching
nearer to the altar we see six acolytes in their scarlet
cassocks, covered by white linen vestments, pacing slowly
to and fro in the space railed off in front, and scattering
rose leaves of every colour — yellow, red, and white — out
of a large shallow basket, which they support on their
left shoulder and the upturned palm of the left hand.
Each acolyte as he empties his basket withdraws, and his
place is at once taken up by another with a full basket,
till they are walking ankle deep in blossoms. Eose
leaves are also floating down unceasingly from the small
eyelets in the roof into the body of the cathedral, filling
the building with their sweet perfume.
The altar rails are thronged at the sides by boys and
men of the poorer class, who are not behaving very
reverently, and appear to regard the service merely in
the light of an interesting spectacle. North inquires of
a young priest, who is standing by, what is the occasion
of the festival ; and we learn, what I am afraid we ought
to have remembered, that it was the Feast of the
Ascension. As we go down the building again on our
way out, we pass the choir and catch a glimpse, through
E

50 On a Surf bound Coast.
a side door, of the gallery inside by the organ, and soe
the tenor who has been discoursing such lovely music,
dressed in an everyday black coat and red tie, and
looking very businesslike and non-ecclesiastical.
We leave by a door which leads directly on to a large
open square, in which is the governor's house and one or
two other large public buildings. At this moment the
doctor, who is with us, is accosted by a Spanish gentle
man in English, who shakes him by the hand with great
warmth. The doctor returns it, makes some commonplace
remark, and shortly afterwards the gentleman takes bis
leave and enters the cathedral. The doctor on joining us
again says, " I couldn't think who he was at all. Don't
know even now. He seemed to remember me, though.
Just after parting with him, I had a sort of recollection
that he is a Spanish nobleman resident here, with whom
I dined the last time I was in this island. But since
then I have dined with so many people in so many dif
ferent parts of the world, that he had quite escaped my
memory." The prodigal display of flowers which we have just
witnessed in the cathedral is rivalled in the streets, and
flower-girls are offering us magnificent bouquets of roses
for threepence each, and would probably demand no
more than a penny from one of the inhabitants. Flowers
must grow in this island in great profusion and require
little or no attention in order to account for such an
abundant supply.
We now turn our steps towards the principal Spanish
hotel, and passing through the doorway leading from the
street we find ourselves in a court, with a colonnade
paved with flagstone running round three sides of it.
In this colonnade are chairs and small tables where one
can sit and drink the native wine, and admire the flower-

The Hotel-keepers Son. 51
bed in the middle of the court, filled with geraniums
and other bright-coloured flowers. We take seats at a
table near the entrance and order a bottle of wine.
Here we are soon joined by the landlord's son,, a boy
of about twelve years of age, with a picturesque Murillo
face. He takes a chair, inspects us silently for a short
time, and then begins asking questions in Spanish of
the one nearest to him, who happens fortunately to be
North. He accepts our offer of a glass of wine, and then
pulls out a packet of ill-made Spanish cigarettes — -com
posed apparently of cigar-end cuttings — and hands them
round the table in turn. Not to hurt his feelings, we all
take one and light up. He lights one himself, and begins
to smoke it fiercely, accompanying it, however, with some
what undue expectoration. He is then observed to make a
short speech to North, who begins laughing and says,
" Do you know what this young boy is talking about ?
He says that he has made us all a present of a cigarette
each, and now it is our turn to make him a present."
North follows up this translation by getting out a silver
coin and presenting it to him. His face lights up with
pleasure, he bows his acknowledgments, and says very
many pretty things in Spanish expressive of his thanks.
But this is only one offering, and there are four more of
us who have not yet contributed. So he comes round to
the next one, puts on his most pleasant smile, and makes
him a little speech, of which the recipient does not under
stand a word. Seeing that he gets no answer, he addresses
a remark to North, who again explains. He said to me,
then, "Curious fellow, that, to whom I have just been speak
ing ! I told him he was good-looking, and he has given me
nothing." The object of this remark, when it is trans
lated to him, is no longer proof against such a delicate
piece of flattery, and at once contributes another silver

52 On a Surf -bound Coast.
coin, which the boy is not long extracting from the rest of
us. Having accomplished this in a very free and busi
nesslike fashion, he sits down again, leans back in his
chair, quaffs his wine, takes big pulls at his cigarette,
and whilst carrying on an easy conversation with North,
waves his hand familiarly to such new comers as he
happens to be acquainted with, as much as to say, " Glad
to see you, but can't find time to come and talk to you, as
you see what good company I am in."
Presently an English party enter, attended by a
Spanish priest, a good-looking man of forty-five or fifty,
with well-trimmed gray hair and keen dark eyes, elegant
and debonnair, with a cigarette banging carelessly at one
corner of his mouth. He wears a long flowing clerical
cloak, displaying to view, with the easy movements of his
graceful carriage, his knee-breeches and black silk stock
ings. On his head is a low-crowned silk hat with a broad
and artistically curved brim.
They pass in and soon we are joined by two or three
more of our* party from the Thraeia, and then we go to
luncheon in the table d'hote room, which forms the fourth
side of the quadrangle and is separated from it by a glass
partition only. Here we find the English party, consist
ing apparently of a father, mother, three daughters, and
a son, already installed, with the priest, down one side
of the table, and we take the other.
The conversation is at first monosyllabic, the two parties
of English people, with their usual insular reserve, regard
ing each other with suspicion and distrust. Mr. White,
however, who is seated opposite the father, commences
a conversation with him, on the strength of an introduc
tion over the cruet stand, and then, as the wine circulates,
the priest cannot resist making himself agreeable to the
two girls on either side of him. The son, who is seated

Luncheon Ashore. 53
next to the third daughter, or more probably a cousin,
also gets facetious and, at the same time, very red in the
face through laughing at his own Ion mots. This general
expansiveness is due in a great measure to the quality of
the lunch, which is good in itself, and also as a change after
being on board ship, when a meal on terra firma is always
most enjoyable. We have savoury omelettes, fried fish,
rissoles, beef steak, ham and tongue, with very good
cheese and butter. The claret is very fair, and the supply
of fruit excellent, peaches, green figs, apricots, cherries,
and bananas, a pleasing mixture of temperate and tropical
productions. Down the centre of the table, alternating
with the fruit dishes, are large bouquets of flowers.
After lunch we make our way towards the museum,
which, we are told, is in the Plaza. On arriving there
we hear it is at the top of the governor's house, and,
after mounting three storeys in the close afternoon heat,
we are rewarded by the usual old-world smell, minute
articles arrayed symmetrically in rows, and labelled —
wisely, for one could not tell the difference by merely
looking at them — and an anthropological room, with
about three hundred human skulls in equally faultless
array. Finding nothing of more interest than these
objects, we have no inducement to stay, but descend
again and drive back to the mole, and thence row off to
the ship.
We weigh anchor at 6.30 for Dakar, Senegal, where we
hope to meet the Pioneer. Passing close in by the town
we give them a final salute with a detonator, which brings
crowds of inhabitants out to look at us, and then we dip
gracefully to them and steam away southwards, distance
and the shades of night soon obscuring Las Palmas from
our view.

54 On a Surf-bound Coast.

CHAPTEE IV.
In the track of the north-east trades — The sun vertically overhead —
Varying hues of the ocean — First view of the African coast — Cape
Verde — The island of Goree — French enterprise in Senegal —
Bailway to the interior — St. Louis — Celibacy as a punishment
— -Dakar — Biver Gambia — A night on a sandbank.
Friday, June 4th. — We are now in the full track of the
north-east trade winds, and are making the best of it
by setting all our square sails. The Thraeia carries a
considerable amount of canvas, and a fair wind makes no
inappreciable difference in her day's run. It is fine
weather, the temperature is agreeable, and there is just
enough motion as we sit on the quarter-deck to rock us
into pleasant reveries, if our books fail to occupy our
thoughts. Even the crew seem to partake of this quiet
restfulness ; and the boatswain's mate, a superior fellow,
with a dark drooping moustache, is more than usually
well-bred and dignified. He comes aft, followed by half
a dozen barefooted myrmidons to adjust the sails, and
issues his orders in restrained and softened tones : " Top
sail brace — make fast. Upper topsail brace! again!
That'll do— make fast ! " And then they disappear as
noiselessly as they came.
After dinner Jenkins asks me if I know Euchre. I
reply that I do not. " Very well," he says, " I will teach

The North-east Trades. 55
you ; " which he does to some purpose, quietly making
the remark at the end of the game, as he is pocketing
the stakes, "I have generally been successful in
cards, however my other efforts in life may have been
attended." Saturday, June 5th. — We are racing along with a fine
stern wind. At noon we are in latitude 21° north of the
equator, with the sun directly overhead. I had been
expecting it to be very hot here, thinking somewhat
naturally that the sun's vertical position was the most
important element in producing heat. But on looking
at the thermometer in the testing-room, I find it registers
only 71° F., while on deck the temperature does not
exceed 65°. In fact, seated under the awning, with the
strong trade wind that is blowing, one feels quite chilly
and inclined to get up and take a walk to circulate the
blood. It is the old fable of the contest between the sun
and wind, which has been going on since prehistoric
times, and has not been conclusively decided yet. In
this case, at any rate, the verdict of antiquity appears to
be reversed ; and the rays of the sun, although descend
ing vertically, are powerless to make the grasp of the
fabled cloak relax, tightened as it is under the influence
of the keen north wind.
Similarly on land, according to modern theories, in
order to determine the heat of a locality, the wind
deserves the most attention; and places are hot, not so
much according to their proximity to the equator, as
according to the character and permanence of the pre
vailing winds. In England, at the present moment, the
thermometer may be standing 15°, and is probably at
least 10°, higher than we have it here. But at sea the
trade winds, coming directly from the cool regions north

On a Surf-bound Coast.

and south, and sweeping unimpeded over the expanse of
ocean, are the cause of the pleasantly low temperature,
extending sometimes right to the equator.
Sunday, June 6th. — To-day, at 10.30 am., we have our
first muster, as on the previous Sunday it had been much
too rough. The men assemble on the starboard side of
the quarter-deck where there is an open space some
seventy or eighty feet long, all the cable machinery
being on the port side. There are ninety souls, all told,
on board. The men are ranged up in two rows facing
each other at the distance of a few feet. The sailors,
fitters, and firemen are on one side, and the cable hands
and stewards the other. They are all, with the exception
of the stewards, dressed in uniform, the cable hands
wearing a nautical blouse, or "jumper," similar to the
sailors. It is a fine morning, and the ship has only a gentle
swing from side to side. The first officer has called
over the roll, and there is a pause till Mr. White,
the captain, and the doctor return from their tour of
inspection. In the dead silence which is preserved it is
amusing, as we stand aft by the chain-gratings, to watch
the effect of the motion of the ship on the two lines
facing each other with so much solemnity. When the
ship rolls to starboard the starboard line, in perfect uni
formity, incline themselves gravely forward towards the
other line, while they as gravely lean backwards to an
exactly similar angle, which apparently defies the laws of
gravity, as if they were both performing some laboured
ceremonial. As it is not easy to stand with the two feet
brought close together, when the ship is rolling, a longer
swing than usual occasionally throws some of them off
their balance, and they are obliged to obtrude a leg

Varying Hues of the Ocean. 57
behind or before, as the case may be, recovering them
selves, however, with great haste, and trying to look as if
nothing had occurred to disturb their equilibrium. But
soon the inspecting party return, and the boatswain's
whistle relieves the men from a position they do not find
so easy to maintain.
The colour of the sea has undergone another change.
I don't know if it has been decided definitely what has
the most influence in determining the hue of the sea
water, whether it is the colour of the sky and the trans
parency of the atmosphere, or whether it depends on the
varying condition of the water itself, such as its depth, or
the amount of foreign substances in suspension, like sea
weed or material washed down by a river from the land.
However it may be, the prevailing colour off the coast of
England and down the Channel seems to be an undecided
gray, which gets bluer through the Bay of Biscay, till off
the coast of Africa it develops that dull turquoise shade
which is so familiar to every housekeeper in the domestic
article known as " Eeckitt's Blue." This colour has fol
lowed us some distance, but it is now being replaced by a
clear dark gray, relieved occasionally by tints of bottle-
green. An interesting book might be written on the
different shades of colour observed during an ocean
voyage, and containing a detailed explanation accounting
for each variety.
We notice that the evenings, which when we left Eng
land did not grow dark till half-past seven, are drawing
in again as we approach the equator, and it is now dark
soon after half-past six.
Monday, June lih. — At 2.30 p.m. we sight Cape Verde,
which is our first view of the African coast. Cabo Verde
was the name given it by the early Portuguese explorers,

58 On a Surf bound Coast.
and means, of course, the " Green Cape." Just at the
present time it somewhat belies its original nomenclature,
for right up to the summit of the two round hills, called
tlie " Mammae " or " Breasts," which rise at the extremity
of the cape, and as far as the eye can see of the sur
rounding country, the long grass and the trees alike are
burnt by the sun to a faint brown colour. A dull mist,
too, hangs over the land like a pall, to within a few feet
above the ground, and thickening in the distance into an
opaque white fog. This mist, rising from the decaying
vegetation, and containing all the miasmic germs that
accompany such decomposition, is the familiar feature of
the whole seaboard of the West Coast of Africa.
A reef, upon which huge rollers are dashing themselves
into white foam and clouded spray, runs out from the end
of the cape for a great distance into the sea, and a con
siderable detour has to be made to reach Dakar, which
lies several miles to the south of it. There are two lights
on the cape — one on the level ground at the commence
ment of the reef, and the other one on the round hill
nearest the sea. This latter is a very good light, and on
account of its lofty position can be seen a great distance
out to sea. When we have doubled the reef we find
ourselves in smooth water, being now protected by it
from the north-east trade wind, which was still blowing
sufficiently hard to make the sea outside somewhat
rough. The temperature is only 75° F., a great contrast
to our former visit to this place in the preceding year,
when there was not a breath of wind, and the thermo
meter was standing over 80°. It is hard to realize that
it is the same place.
We are now closer into land, gliding smoothly along
under the huge brown cliffs of the mainland, and passing
two small islands formed of purple rock, rising abruptly

Dakar and the Island of Goree. 59
from the dark green water. A few well-built low white
houses with wide piazzas, so universal a feature in tropical
buildings, appear at intervals on the summit of the cliffs ;
and, after rounding another point, the island of Goree,
which lies exactly opposite Dakar, comes into sight. With
our glasses we soon discover the Pioneer lying alongside a
coal hulk in the calm waters of the harbour, and engaged
in coaling from her. In a short time we steam slowly in
and drop anchor a little distance astern of them.
Dakar has been described as a splendid harbour and
the Gibraltar of Western Africa. It is provided with
jetties capable of working 180,000 tons of shipping. On
account of the sandbank which of late years has been
extending itself across the month of the river Senegal, some
seventy miles farther north, St. Louis, the capital of the
French province of Senegambia, has ceased to be a port
and transacts all its shipping through Dakar. A railway
connects the town with its port, thereby reducing the
difficulties of transport to a minimum. Ships of the
largest draft can anchor in the harbour, and the splendid
line of French mail steamers, the Messageries, make Dakar
their coaling station on their way to South America.
Goree, which also belongs to the French, though a very
small island, is much better known than Dakar, being a
considerably older place. It was first mentioned in the
fourteenth century, and became the property of the French
towards the end of the sixteenth century. Until quite
recently all the trade of this part of the coast was trans
acted from Goree, the traders living on the island and
having merely warehouses on the mainland, to which they
went daily, and returned to Goree every evening. The
reason for this was that Goree, being surrounded by the
sea, was considered much more healthy to live on than the
opposite side of the bay. But with late years, as the com-

60 On a Surf-bound Coast.
merce increased, it was found more convenient to live on
the mainland, and thus originated the town of Dakar.
The French are very active on this part of the coast,
and with whatever fortune their efforts at colonization in
other parts of the world have been attended, there is no
doubt that the method they pursue on the West Coast of
Africa is highly successful with the race with which
they come in contact. Their colony is exceedingly well
defended by an efficient garrison of soldiery, and they
rule over the native population with firmness and decision.
They make no pretence of giving them equal rights, and
punish disorder with impartial severity. The average
negro mind not being able to grasp the grand ideal of
the equality of the human race, understands the more
simple rule that might is right, and consequently they
are much better behaved in French colonies on the coast
than in English ones, and respect their rulers infinitely
more. The French' are very ambitious of forming an African
Empire, which shall extend from the coast inland
as far as the Niger, thus outflanking the English posses
sions on the Gold Coast. With this in view they have
projected a railway to extend from St. Louis inland to
Bamaku on the Niger, and have actually completed it
as far as Mediae. By this means they are diverting
much of the trade of the interior, which used to find its
way down the Gambia to the English port of Bathurst,
transport of goods running less risk — and thus in the end
being cheaper— along a well-defended railway route, than
down a river flanked by numerous hostile tribes.
St. Louis itself is very unhealthy, being situated on
the swampy ground formed at the mouth of the Senegal.
It is one of the few places on the coast where there is not
a single Englishman or Scotchman, and is also remarkable

Schemes of Empire. 61
for the number of Chinamen, which are to be found in no v'
other part of the West Coast of Africa. The natives
punish offenders among themselves by not allowing them
to marry — a kind of penalty which would hardly recom
mend itself to European legislators. The unhealthiness
of the town does not abate the ardour of the French,
and the places of victims to the coast malaria and yellow
fever are quickly taken by fresh arrivals from home. It
remains to be seen whether this enthusiastic colonisation
will be rewarded by the foundation of a wealthy and
powerful French empire in Africa, or whether the deadly
effects of the climate, which have kept at bay European
enterprise for so many centuries, will again come off
triumphant and drive back the intruders to their former
meagre settlements on the coast line.
Dakar, so far as one can see from board ship in the
bay, is hardly grand enough to justify the fine eulogium
passed upon it. In the harbour are two small French
gunboats with paddle wheels and painted white, and
apparently not fit to go to sea. There are one or two
barques near the jetties, which show no signs of that
activity, which would warrant their extent, and are, in
fact, almost deserted. The town looks pretty on account
of the fine avenues of silk cotton and other trees adorning
most of the roads, and which conceal the greater portion
of the houses. The custom house, however, a large
stone structure at the end of the principal jetty, the
hotel, a long two storeyed building with a wide piazza,
and the small railway station — the last two a little
further from the shore — are all visible.
Goree, on the opposite side of the bay, is a complete
contrast, being a small island of about half a mile in
breadth and three-quarters of a mile in length, without a
tree or patch of green anywhere to be seen, but crowded

62 On a Surf-bound Coast.
with white houses down to the water's edge. To the right
rises a rock on which is built an unpretending fortress.
Sailing boats, skilfully handled by negro boatmen, are
plying to and fro between Goree and Dakar, carrying goods
and passengers, but amongst the latter there is hardly
ever seen a European.
After we have got " Pratique," most of the staff of the
Pioneer come over to us in the gig, and we exchange our
news of the interval that has elapsed since we parted
company at starting. At dinner, Mr. Shirley, who came
out as Electrician in Charge of the Pioneer, is in good
form, but complains of the heat of our saloon.
" Well," he begins, " I must say you are most awfully
hot down in this saloon of yours. We have all our meals
on deck, and as the Pioneer is flush-decked, there is
always a fresh current of air passing round us, and so we
eat our meals in cool and comfort, except when the wind
is too strong, and then we have to go below again. But
you have the pull over us in your meat. This is English
mutton, I suppose. Ours has run out. We got a few
animals at St. Jago, which they represented to us as
being sheep, but owing to a failure of the crops through
the very scanty rainfall this year, it was hard to tell from
their emaciated forms to what class of quadrupeds they
happened to belong. Indeed, they were so reduced that
the sheep pens, which had been constructed on deck in
England to confine the well-fed Southdown mutton, were
of no use for the purpose of enclosing the new arrivals, as
they passed through the bars with ease. They were
always getting out on to the deck, and had to be frightened
back again like rabbits into their holes, in order to
prevent the more serious catastrophe of their falling
through the chain bulwarks overboard."
After the heat of the saloon it is quite pleasant to get

Under way for Bathurst. 6

o

up on deck again. It is now quite dark. The Pioneer
has drawn away from the coal hulk and lies anchored a
little way off on our starboard bow. The cluster of
incandescent lamps which is shining on her quarter-deck
is sending a stream of silvery light to us across the
rippling water, and we can distinguish the figures of those
left on board still sitting round their dinner table placed
directly underneath it. From the forecastle comes the
music of stringed instruments, which, mellowed by the
distance, helps to enhance the quiet pleasure of the
scene. Mr. White, however, is anxious to get on to Bathurst,
on the Gambia, where our work begins ; and after at
length obtaining our bill of health, for which we have
been waiting, we weigh anchor at ten o'clock, and glide
from the prettily lighted harbour into the gloomy
darkness reigning out at sea. The Pioneer has orders to
follow us early the next morning.
Tuesday, June 8th. — Last night was the first really hot
night we have experienced as yet. I could not sleep in
my bunk, and so turned out on to the settee at the end of
the saloon, where I got a few hours rest.
At 5.30 a.m. we are going slow, and I make my way up
on deck to see if Bathurst is in sight. I learn, however,
that we are searching for a mark buoy which had been put
down on our previous expedition to indicate the position
of the T-joint off Bathurst. This joint was the point
where the cable from the Cape Verde island of St. Jago met
the main cable, running from Dakar southward along the
coast to the Portuguese possession of Bulama, and thence
to the French settlement of Conakri, about seventy miles
north of Sierre Leone. The work immediately before us
was to cut out the T-piece and run the three ends — leading

64 On a Stcrfbound Coast.
respectively northwards to Dakar, westwards to St. Jago,
and southwards to Bulama — into Bathurst.
It is not long before we come to the conclusion that
the mark buoy has disappeared, as buoys are very apt to
do after some time, owing to the chafing of the chains
produced by the continual motion of the sea and other
causes, and so we steam on for Bathurst. We are already
in the mouth of the river Gambia, as we could tell from
the altered colour of the water, which has become a
grayish green tint. A small canoe with a sail and two
occupants is observed heading for us, and is rightly
conjectured to be a native pilot's boat. They are soon
alongside, and a figure clothed in a very old tweed suit
many sizes too large, and his head adorned with a parti
coloured soft cloth lawn-tennis hat, so much in vogue a
year or two ago, scrambles up the pilot ladder, drops on
to the quarter-deck, pulls himself together, as he greets
us with a " Good mornin', sar," and then shuffles uneasily
forward to take up his position on the bridge.
The mouth of the Gambia is beset with sandbanks, and
the passage is very insufficiently marked out with buoys.
We begin by taking a very sinuous course. To the
uninitiated landsman pilotage is a science shrouded in
the profoundest mystery. At one time the ship is
making head on for the shore, and I say to myself, " Now
we are going splendidly, we shall be there in no time,"
and I settle comfortably down for a read or smoke.
When I next look up the ship is heading out to sea
again in a diametrically opposite direction, with the
outlines of the land retreating rapidly from view.
We are still engaged in these manoeuvres, and seem no
nearer Bathurst than on the pilot's first arrival, when the
luncheon bell goes and affords a temporary distraction.
As I am coming up the companion after lunch I feel a

On a Sandbank. 65

strange motion in the ship, then a sudden diminution of
her speed, and a heavy throbbing sound from the
propeller. As soon as I am on deck I perceive that we
are aground, and bumping from one side to the other as
the swell raises and drops us in its course. The engines
are at once reversed and put full speed astern, but to no
purpose, and we continue to jar helplessly upon the
sands. A boat is lowered, and a line with an anchor
attached to it run out some distance from the ship and
then let go. The line is put in connection with the
steam gear and hauled on to, but without effect, as the
tide is going down, and the ship has already worked
a hole for herself in the sand.
The native pilot has left the bridge^ and come aft to
watch the operations. I am told by one of the officers
that he did not seem to know much about the course, but
in this particular instance he was going round the bank
in the proper direction, when he suddenly altered his
mind, changed the course, and drove the ship right on
to it. He appears quite heart-broken now, and is pacing
up and down, wringing his hands, weeping and saying
that he is ruined for life. He does not, however, get
much sympathy, as, if by being ruined he means losing
his licence, it would only be what every one thinks he
deserves. We make more efforts to haul her off by
means of the line, and also by putting the engines full
speed astern at the same time ; but it is of no avail, and
by soundings we find that she is buried four feet in the
sand astern. We then give up the attempt, and lie by
for the next high tide.
About half-past five the Pioneer is sighted, and in a
short time she comes steaming merrily along, dancing up
and down over the long swell, and with her small draught
taking no account of sandbanks or other like nautical
F

66 On a Surf-bound Coast.
inconveniences. She seems much surprised to find us
stationary out here, and as soon as she is near enough we
signal to her on our steam-whistle — making use of the
Morse code by giving long and short sounds — to apprise
her of our condition. We also give her information by
flag signals, and finally, when she comes up abeam of us,
she is near enough to hail. It is an animated scene on
board of her, the small deck, usually deserted, being
crowded fore and aft by nearly the whole of the ship's
company, turned out to see what is the matter with us,
and facetious remarks are exchanged between the men at
the bows of the two ships.
As we are aground in seventeen feet of water, we advise
them to be careful, a warning which is not ill-timed, for
they shortly find themselves in fifteen feet only, with a
narrow escape from a similar fate to ours. However,
they get clear, and anchor a little distance off on our
port quarter. Our captain then goes off to consult with
the captain of the Pioneer, and returns when we are in
the midst of dinner. He tells us that he has been talking
to the pilot on board the other ship. This gentleman was
much surprised to see us where we were, as it was right
out of the proper course. He said he knew we must be
aground directly he saw us, and could only account for
our position there by concluding that we had gone
aground on purpose as a part of our business. He
thought, perhaps, that we laid the cable by upsetting it en
masse into the sea, and letting it shift for itself when there.
Going up on deck after dinner we find it a dull,
oppressive night, with distant lightning and a thunder
storm threatening. We have a little conversation with
those on board the Pioneer, by means of the signalling
lamps. These are ordinary colza hand lamps, but con
structed with a shutter in front of the glass which is

Morse Signal Lamps in use. 67
worked up and down by a lever, and thus emits short or
long flashes of light as required, to represent the dots and
dashes of the Morse code. They are in good spirits
to-night on board the Pioneer, and are inclined to make
sport of our misfortune. After the usual formalities have
been exchanged such as, " Here, Smith, who you ? " " Here,
Brown, O.K. Good," they ask us how we like the mud
bank, and we reply that we are quite glad to be on terra
firma again after so long a sojourn on the dreary deep.
But the flashes of lightning are getting more vivid and
persistent, and interfere considerably with our signals,
which are outshone and made invisible by its brightness.
The Pioneer stands out, each spar clear and well-defined,
in the momentary but intense illumination of the sky.
and we can discern those with whom we are conversing
sitting in a group on the quarter-deck. The tide is
now rising, and as it eases the ship out of the bed she
has made for herself in the sand, the jarring from side
to side recommences with increased force. We make
many fruitless attempts to get off, and the Pioneer has
just received orders to come over and assist, when during
a final effort with the engines full speed astern and
hauling on to the line, there is a grating sound at the
bottom of the ship, the heavy lifeless feeling begins to
disappear, and we glide out once more afloat into the
channel we had left. It is just midnight, and we let go
anchor in plenty of water, to lie by till the following

68 On a Surf bound Coast.

CHAPTEE V.
Bathurst — Turf-covered streets— A memorial monument — Native bird-
fancier — An open-air bazaar — The value of quinine— Tropical
thunderstorm — A Gambia steam lighter — The port doctor — Yams
of the coast by the captain of the lighter.
Wednesday, June 9th. — When I turn out at seven
o'clock the engines are silent, and I go lip on deck to
learn why we have not yet moved from our position.
When, however, I reach the top of the companion, a very
pretty view, framed in the open doorway, is suddenly
presented to me. At only the distance of a hundred yards
is the shore, covered with magnificent tropical trees in
luxuriant green foliage, and a white stone house, fronted
with green palings lying partly hidden in their midst.
The scene is all the more enchanting, as it was so entirely
unexpected. The sun is already pouring down with great
force, but there is a gentle breeze rippling the level
surface of the river. A chapel bell is ringing for matins,
and the sound strikes musically in the hushed calm and
stillness reigning round, and brings with it memories of
a distant home.
I find the first officer on the quarter-deck, and say to
him, " This is Bathurst, I suppose ? When did we get
here?" " Why, we weighed anchor at six o'clock, and have only

Bathurst. 69

just brought up here again, five minutes or so
Pretty looking place, isn't it ? "
"Yes. That must be the governor's house, there. I
wonder where the bell is coming from. I don't see any
thing like a church."
" No ; I suppose it is some way further in, hidden by
the trees. These canoes must be all bound for the
market," pointing to some native canoes laden with fruit,
and with seven or eight figures seated motionless about
the craft, eyeing us with an indolent look, half curious,
half disdainful, as they glide smoothly past the ship.
They carry huge square sails, filling with wind and bend
ing the slender pole that does duty for a mast, till it
seems on the very point of snapping, while the man in
charge sits on his haunches aft, steering with a paddle
and watching anxiously the straining canvas.
After breakfast I go across to pay a visit to the Pioneer,
which is anchored a little astern of us. I find on board
several of the operators who joined her at Dakar, and
whom I had met the year before. They have been on
the coast about eight months. At the present moment
they are engaged in fishing placidly from the quarter-deck,
but appear to have caught nothing. The climate of the
West Coast seems to have different effects on different
people. One has the dark, healthy, sunburnt colour of an
inveterate sportsman, another is of a sickly pallor, while
the third boasts of a beautiful pink and white complexion
that any girl in Devonshire or Cornwall might be proud
of. They are all, however, in good spirits. We have a
good deal of news to exchange ; and I find it very
pleasant and much cooler on the flush deck of the
Pioneer, instead of being enclosed all round with the
massive bulwarks of the Thraeia. The quarter-masters
are in their white pith helmets and white uniforms for

70 On a Surf-bound Coast.

the first time, and look very smart and comfortable in
them. After lunch on the Pioneer, I return to the TJiraeia.
Here I find the doctor preparing to go ashore, and he
asks me if I will accompany him. He is always very
enterprising, and makes a rule of going ashore whenever
he gets the chance. "I asked the second officer," he
tells me, " if he was coming, and he said he didn't think
he would, though he has never been here before. Some
people have no curiosity." I arrange to go with him,
and shortly after we start with the captain in his gig.
The town lies a little to the left of where we are
anchored, and here several small wooden jetties run out
from the beach, where native canoes are being unloaded.
We get to the leeward of the first of these, and run
the boat upon the hard sand by the side of it. Several
large vultures, which in the distance we had taken for
turkeys, rise as we approach, and flap lazily away. After
we have landed, a native in European dress comes up and
speaks to the doctor, saying he is the son of the chaplain
here, and remembers him when he paid his last visit to
Bathurst about two years ago. He wants to know if we
could get up a team to play the residents at cricket ; and
he also promises, at our request, to send on board a barber,
of whom we are all in great need. He leaves soon ; and
as the others wish to pay a visit first, I go off by myself
to look round the town.
All along the shore, within thirty or forty yards of the
water, is a fine esplanade of magnificent silk cotton trees
of great girth. Playing round the bottom of these trees,
and occasionally running up them, I notice a very pretty
species of lizard, the largest from eight to ten inches
long. One having been knocked over by a native with
a stick, I could inspect it closely, and found the colour of

Turf-covered Streets. yi
the body to be blue with black spots and a yellow head.
The lizard is a very prevalent class of reptile on the
coast, but these bright hues are not equally common in
them. Passing along the esplanade to the left, I come to a
long block of white buildings, composed of warehouses,
and a colonnade in front, with the shops behind it. After
this colonnade I turn to the right, and walk towards the
centre of the town. The roads are all covered with a soft
green grass, and with three-foot trenches down the middle
of them. These are to carry off the water in the rainy
season. The houses are of two kinds — either fine stone
buildings with large courtyards shaded with palms, the
residence of Europeans, or else wooden shanties inhabited
by the natives. Swallows, martins, and swifts, are flying
about in great numbers, enjoying the warm air and call
ing to each other in their liquid notes; while, hidden
in the foliage of a lofty palm tree, a singing bird, some
thing like our English thrush, but with far deeper, richer
tones, is warbling forth its song. After the chilly spring
we have left behind in England, there is a feeling of a
veritable summer in this pleasantly heated atmosphere,
and everything seems aglow with life and warmth.
Bathurst, in appearance, contrasts favourably with Dakar
and other places higher up the coast, on account of the
luxuriant foliage of the trees and the soft fresh grass
which carpets the earth. It may be, however, that for
this reason, it is more unhealthy.
Although now after four o'clock, the sun is still very
strong, and seeing an open store on the ground floor of
a house, I go in to make inquiries about a green sunshade.
A young Englishwoman, with a slight Scotch accent,
dressed in light summer material, quickly supplies me
with what I want ; her husband in his shirt-sleeves, sitting

72 On a Surf-bound Coast.
behind the counter, and seeming much more overcome
by the climate than his wife. I pass on, down another
road parallel to the beach, and come to a large green
surrounded on all sides by the ubiquitous silk cotton
trees. On the opposite side to which I enter is a long,
low building, apparently the barracks, to judge from the
knot of native soldiers round the entrance gate. Their
uniform consists of dark blue coats and trousers, piped
with red, and dark coloured sun-helmets. These soldiers,
I am afterwards informed, are the Haussas, and have to
act in the double capacity of soldiers and policemen.
One side of the barracks faces the river; and here
beneath a tree is assembled the regimental band, consisting
of twelve musicians, who are playing some lively English
march to an audience of one grey-haired old native and
three small nigger boys. In front of the barrack entrance,
and at the foot of another huge tree, is erected, in the
midst of the soft turf, a stone monument of simple design
and unpretentious appearance. On the front I read that
the monument was put up to the memory of four officers
and two non-commissioned officers who died here of an
epidemic in 1859. As the garrisons in Bathurst have
never been very large, that must have been a large per
centage of the whole number of the officers. It was
erected by those of their companions in arms who sur
vived them. At the base of the monument, in the extreme
corner, is inscribed in small characters, "Higgins fecit,
Betton, Eutland, England."
It seemed curious that these simple stones, carved,
presumably, by some rustic artist in a small village in
the heart of England, should, in spite of the heavy
freight they must have cost, find their way over so many
hundred miles of water to an almost equally obscure
town on the Western Coast of Africa. If Higgins is yet

A Memorial Monument. j$
alive, he will no doubt be gratified to hear that his work
withstands alike the burning tropic sun and the pouring
tropic rains, and still declares the hand that carved it, and
the distant home from which it came.
In front of the monument, on the velvet grass, is marked
out, by way of contrast, a lawn tennis court, with somewhat
sinuous lines, and the net lying on the ground across the
centre of it. The site is well chosen, as it is shaded by
the trees just at this time of the afternoon, when it would
be most pleasant to begin a game. However, I do not see
any one coming with that purpose, and the courts do not
appear to be sufficiently worn for it to be likely that they
are constantly in use.
Passing between the barracks and the river, I find
myself in front of the governor's house. It does not look
so well, when seen near, as from the river, having the
appearanee of being considerably out of repair. Other
wise it seems a comfortable and commodious building.
Leaving it behind, I reach the native quarter, meeting on
my way three nuns, Europeans, belonging, I afterwards
learn, to a French convent here. The climate appears to
have made great havoc with their constitutions, to judge
from their excessively pallid countenances. I now turn
off inland again down a broad green road. The huts on
each side are made of " swish " and dried mud, with a
fence of bamboo canes six feet high, enclosing a fair-sized
courtyard. The natives themselves are for the most part
sitting out on the ground under the row of trees in the
middle of the road, laughing, chattering, and making
merry as only niggers can.
Coming to a shop built more after the European
fashion, I was looking in, prompted merely by curiosity,
when the owner catches sight of me and says, with the
usual native directness, " Well, sar, what do you want ? "

74 On a Surf-bound Coast.
I reply that I don't want anything, but that I am only
admiring his premises. He then says, "I will show you
something to admire, sar. I will take you to look at my
birds," and he comes out of his shop, leads the way across
the road, and opens a door in the bamboo fencing opposite.
This brings us into a court in which, seated on the ground,
made smooth and hard as pavement under continued
exposure to the burning sun, are half a dozen women
engaged in sorting out kola nuts. Passing through to the
further end of the court we come to a small wooden
outhouse, which we enter. I find more than half of it
wired off into an aviary, in which innumerable small birds
are chirping and flying about. Their plumage is of
every hue and description, displaying all the bright
colours of tropical birds, light blue and white, black and
white, black and orange, pink and fawn, rich brown and
red, speckled gray, speckled pink, and speckled yellow ; in
fact, every conceivable combination of colour which is
effective and picturesque. There is an equal variety in
the character of the plumage, in the length of tail and
spread of wing. The aviary is kept scrupulously clean,
with fresh white sand sprinkled over the bottom. There
are three windows of wire netting, which allow ample
light and fresh air to penetrate within, and which are
provided with shutters to keep out, the chilly air of night.
I ask the native bird-fancier how many birds there are
in his cage, and he tells me over a thousand. He buys
them from men who catch them in the bush far up the
river Gambia, and bring them all the way down to
Bathurst to find a market. He sells them, in turn, to
English homebound steamers, which take them direct
to Liverpool. In that city there appears to be a good
demand for them, to judge from the number he keeps at
a time. Some of these small birds are very sweet singers,

An Open-air Bazaar. 75
but, as I believe is generally the case, they were the birds
of quiet and sombre colours. The bird, he tells me, that I
heard singing in the trees, is called by some the " pepper
bird," by others the "palm bird," a specimen of which
he says he has not got, as they invariably die in captivity.
He did not know the name of any other bird in his large
and varied collection. I wished to take some of them
with me at the time, but he said that he had no cage to
send them in, but that I should have no difficulty in
getting one in the town, and then he would fill it with
any birds I should select. I arrange to come again within
the next day or two.
As it is now between five and six, I make my way back
towards the jetty, along a different road to the one by
which I came, and running parallel to the beach. Under
neath a row of trees on one side of this road an open-air
bazaar is being held, the sellers displaying their goods
on tables and boards supported by trestles. It is an
animated and interesting scene, the road being filled with
natives, laughing and talking in their careless, light-
hearted manner. They show a great diversity in the way
of dress. ¦ The women in fair circumstances, such as those
in possession of a stall, wear either a European cut dress,
or a coloured cotton garment arranged in native style
reaching from the shoulders to the ankle. The head is
mostly adorned with a gay-coloured cotton handkerchief.
The poorer women who do all the drudgery of fetching
and carrying, while their spouses stand in groups chatting
and smoking, wear simply the cotton waist-cloth extending
from the waist to the knee. All go barefooted. Of the
men, the better class wear European clothes, or the long
coloured cloth folded like a toga and reaching to the feet,
the poorer class again, like the women, boasting of only a
scanty waist-cloth. At the end of this_ road, between it

76 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and the beach, I see the market ; but I have no time to
inspect it, as it is already past the hour at which the
boat was ordered to take us back. I find the others
at the jetty, and get on board again just in time for
dinner. At dinner Mr. Shirley, who has now left the Pioneer
and joined the Thraeia, is in good spirits, in spite of the
great heat below, and the fact that we are lying off one
of the most unhealthy parts of a most unhealthy coast.
He had, however, taken every precaution before leaving
England, had consulted several of the best known medical
authorities on the treatment of the fever peculiar to these
localities, and quinine having been equally recommended
by them all, had made a large investment and brought
with him a case containing thirty-six ounce bottles. In
addition to this, he has insured himself heavily in different
offices, and so "for either fate prepared," he is in a
position to make merry and defy the fever in its own
especial haunts. Seeing the doctor opposite to him as
he sits down, he begins, rubbing his hands in excess of
geniality and high spirits —
" Well, doctor, how are you this evening ? I am feel
ing particularly well. I started on the first of my thirty-
six bottles of quinine to-day, taking only two small doses,
These doses I mean to increase in size and number as our
stay on the coast prolongs, and as we move to hotter and
more unhealthy parts. By this means I hope to get my
system thoroughly saturated with the priceless antidote,
and absolutely fever-proof in atmospheres crowded with
the fatal miasmic germs."
The doctor is quite taken aback by the length and
substance of this striking communication. Thirty-six
bottles of quinine! He cannot trust his defective hearing,
and putting his hand up to that organ he cries out,

''Forewarned, Forearmed." 77
" What did you say? You've taken thirty-six bottles of
quinine ? "
" Well, no, doctor," replies Mr. Shirley, smiling, " I
haven't taken them all yet. But I hope to have done so
by the time I get back."
" Thirty-six bottles of quinine ! " repeats the doctor in
blank astonishment. " Why, the two ships together
haven't got much more than that."
" One good thing, Shirley," says Mr. White, " we shall
know where to come to if our supply falls short."
" I expect, you know," puts in Jenkins, " that is what
Mr. Shirley had an eye to when he ordered all that lot.
He will hold it till the supply on board ship is exhausted,
and none can be bought on shore under a guinea an
ounce ; then he will sell out at a premium, and make a
profit of three or four hundred per cent." •
" Why," says Mr. White, " it would be almost as cheap
to run out to sea for a few days, where prices for that
article are at a discount, and then have a forced sale of
the supply."
" Or gain our end," remarks Jenkins, " in a more legal
but equally effective manner. Mr. Shirley takes his
quinine in the dry form in cigarette papers. Now it has
come to my knowledge that he is in need of these, having
incautiously smoked the last one a few days before he
began to take his quinine. I supplied him with the
necessary article to-day ; but if, on his holding out with
regard to his quinine, we should combine and boycott him
in respect of this requisite, we shall reduce him to our
terms by means which have proved so thoroughly efficient
in a country at no great distance from our own."
This proposal is greeted with some laughter and much
applause, which has the effect of temporarily silencing
Mr. Shirley's flow of words. The conversation, however,

78 On a Surf-bound Coast.
turning on novels and books of adventure, among which
" King Solomon's Mines " is mentioned, Mr. Shirley
cannot restrain himself, and breaks out afresh —
" I have read ' King Solomon's Mines,' and didn't think
much of it. I don't like that mixture of apparent truth
with most palpable, unbounding fiction. Seeing the
main incidents are manifestly the outcome of the imagi
nation, and are such as could not possibly take place in
actual life, who will be deceived by the solemn and
realistic tone of the rest of the narrative ? The story
about the influence acquired among the natives by the
man who had a set of false teeth is well conceived ; and I
have known a parallel case of it myself in real life. As a
matter of fact," he continues, changing the line of dis
cussion rather abruptly, "I don't care for novels at all,
or, at any rate, for new ones. The only ones I've a
liking for are those which I have read several times
before ; then I know exactly what is coming, and there is
no unpleasant feeling of suspense."
On deck the air is very close and sultry, foreboding a
thunderstorm. Out towards the sea the sky is a leaden
black, and lightning is already playing in the distance.
We sit and watch the rising storm as we smoke our after
dinner pipes. The black canopy of clouds is extending
further and further overhead, and the flashes are becom
ing more vivid and persistent. By nine o'clock the whole
of the heavens is shrouded by a dark pall, and the sheet-
lightning has latterly been one continuous illumination,
spreading from the distant quarter where it originated
over a wide expanse of sky. Its brilliancy is increased by
blinding and rapidly recurring flashes of fork-lightning.
The imitations as exhibited on any London stage, and
which one is apt to think unnatural from the frequent
repetition, could come nowhere near this tropical light-

A Thunderstorm with the Thunder omitted. 79
ning in exaggerated effects. The sky, which in the
intervals presents a dull confused outline, displays, under
the full burst of light, bank after bank of towering, sullen
clouds. The striking point about the storm and the one
in which it differs so widely from its scenic imitation, is
the total absence of thunder. This heightens its weird
unnatural effect. At half-past nine there commences
suddenly a heavy and persistent deluge of rain, such as
can be only witnessed in equatorial latitudes, and which
is still pouring down with unabated violence when we go
below soon after eleven o'clock.
Thursday, June 10th. — The sky is still overcast, but the
rain has ceased and left the atmosphere much cooler and
clearer. A slight breeze, too, has sprung up from the
sea. As there is not enough water for either of the ships to
lay the shore end from the point at which it is to be
landed, we have engaged the services of a small steam
lighter belonging to one of the African steamship com
panies, and ordinarily used for carrying freight to and
from the mail boats. At noon this small steamer comes
up. The only European on board is the captain, who is
on the bridge acting as his own " man at the wheel," and
at the same time issuing orders to the bunch of niggers
standing on the forecastle and preparing to make her fast
to the Thraeia. He is a short, shrewd-looking young-
Englishman ; but at the present moment he has got his
hands literally and metaphorically full, as, in addition to
steering himself, he is shouting directions down a speak
ing tube into the engine-room, and is also abusing in
good round English the thick-headed niggers at the bows.
They stand there in a group with only thin narrow strips
of clothing round their loins, and their looks keep return-

80 On a Surf-bound Coast.
ing anxiously to the small man on the bridge, so as to be
in readiness to carry out his wishes. Whrin he gives an
order, four or five of them rush to execute it, shouting and
pushing each other out of the way till an interchange of
blows seems unavoidable. But that result rarely happens.
Niggers at their work yell and gesticulate and shake
their fists in each other's faces, but that is the extent of
their pugilistic manifestations, and they do nothing to
mar the striking outline of their features.
They miss several times the line thrown to them from
the Thraeia, and receive a torrent of expletives from the
captain, who cannot leave the wheel, and who has the
" Oh,-if-I-could-only-get-at-them " expression of a chained
bull-terrier. At length they secure it and make the
lighter fast alongside. The cable hands then commence
coiling the piece of cable required into the bottom of the
lighter, while it is hauled out by the steam-gear from the
fore-tank of the Thraeia.
This operation continues throughout the afternoon.
The captain of the craft, who has been watching it
patiently for about a couple of hours, at length grows
weary, and coming on board the Thraeia, asks how much
cable has been turned over. We reply about three miles.
" Only three miles ! " he exclaims in astonishment.
f' All that pile of stuff only three miles ! It seems to me
that your miles on board this ship are a good deal longer
than what I remember at school. Are they still 1760
yards ? "
" Well, you know, captain," some one volunteers, "we
reckon cable by nautical miles, 2029 yards."
" Oh," he replies, not at all taken aback by this
obvious explanation, " I thought that as it was shore-end
cable, you might be reckoning by shore miles, you know."
At dinner the doctor of the settlement comes off, and

War in the Interior. 81
the captain of the lighter is also present. The former is
a dark, good-looking man, apparently enjoying very good
health. He wants to know when we shall be able to
arrange to play them at cricket.
" We have just had a gunboat here," he continues, " and
the officers on board were very keen about cricket. Only
lately arrived on the coast, they had plenty of vigour in
them, and insisted on dragging us poor residents out to
start a match at three o'clock in the afternoon. We beat
fiem, though, in that, and afterwards in lawn tennis;
though what with the unusual exertion in the daytime,
and a succession of dinner-parties in the evening, we
were quite exhausted by their visit, and hailed their de
parture as a welcome opportunity to take the much
needed rest."
" Apropos of the gunboat," says Mr. White, " we heard
that there was some fighting among the natives in the in
terior near here. Is there any foundation for the report ? "
" Oh, yes. A short time ago there was a chief a little
distance up the Gambia with eight hundred men in arms
at his command. He was making war against another
chief. We had a garrison here of only eighty Houssas, so
we sent, asking for a gunboat. It might have been awk
ward if they had taken it into their heads to march on
Bathurst, but they don't like coming anywhere near,
when there is an English gunboat within reach. The
war is still going on amongst them on a smaller scale."
"Has your rainy season commenced here yet?" in
quires Mr. White.
" It is just beginning. When it is well set in, we have
a thunderstorm every night. The trenches you see-in the
middle of our roads are of no use at all, as they are con
structed on the same level, and have no fall. Conse
quently, all they do is to collect the water. Several

82 On a Surf bound Coast.
times, after a tornado, when I have been out, I have had
to walk home with the water over my knees. Tn the
warm season it is very hot, the thermometer registering
sometimes as much as 92° in the shade. But it is very
pleasant here from November to June, and I have seen it
within that period as low as 54°."
" Well, it is hot enough down here to-night," remarks
Mr. White, " in spite of the punkah we have just rigged
up, and which does not seem to have the cooling effect
which we anticipated."
The punkah could not certainly be called a success.
It was the design of the ship's carpenter, and he had been
engaged with it all day. This was the result — a rectangu
lar framework about the same length, but a little wider,
than the saloon table, so as to be more immediately above
the chairs each side. From this frame was suspended a
fringe of light canvas or some similar material, about a foot
in depth. It was worked by a cord running in a series of
blocks through the skylight to a deckhouse above, where
a boy was stationed to keep it swinging during meal
time. The saloon not being very high, the punkah
reached too low, and must have been rather embarrassing
to the stewards who had their carefully prepared partings
disarranged, and the taller ones their view obscured, by
it. The blocks continually wanted oiling, as they
squeaked to such an extent as to render conversation
sometimes almost impossible. Combined with the swing
from side to side was a movement fore and aft, so that
the two end pieces occasionally knocked against one of
the incandescent lamps by which the table was lighted,
and put it temporarily out of circuit.
The captain of the lighter, what with the good dinner
he has made — for as a rule the food supply on the coast
is very poor, and a table such as ours on board is propor-

Hot Weather down the Coast. 83
tionately welcome — and the champagne, of which he has
partaken freely, feels the heat severely, and is constantly
engaged in wiping off the streaming perspiration from his
brow. " By Jove ! " he exclaims, " I've seen some hot weather
on the coast, and I've been on some pretty warm ships,
but this saloon of yours beats anything I ever came across
for a downright steaming hot vapour bath, and no mis
take." And he embraces promptly the opportunity of
going upon deck afforded by a general move from the
table. On deck he recovers his usual equanimity, and
being provided with a good cigar and a very comfortable
chair, he proceeds to deliver himself of various yarns
about the coast, which increase in striking incident and
curious detail with the growing attention of the audience
he has collected round him.
"Talking of hot weather," he began, taking a long pull
at his cigar, throwing one leg carelessly over the other,
and settling himself comfortably, in view of the probable
duration of his self-imposed task, " if you want to know
how hot it can be, you should go lower down the coast
at the wor&t season of the year. When you have passed
Cape Palmas, you get out of the trade winds which keep
this part cooler, and then all along the Ivory Coast aud
Gold Coast the heat is intense. Even the natives can't
stand it, and are knocked over in no time if they are
worked in the heat of the day. I have been on trading
vessels down that coast when the whole crew have worn
nothing but a suit of pajamas of the lightest material
and a large straw hat, for weeks together, and any one
coming on board couldn't tell the captain from the
quarter-master, or the chief steward from the cook's mate ;
and then, up those rivers — the oil rivers they call them —
round the Bight of Benin, it is cruel work at certain

84 On a Surf bound Coast.
seasons of the year, and it's not to be wondered at if the
climate occasionally affects a man's temper and view of
things generally, and makes him act in a way that he
would never dream of doing in more moderate zones. It
is not long ago since those traders used to be as absolute
as little kings in their own immediate neighbourhood,
independent of every one, and responsible to no govern
ment, treating their clerks and native servants just as they
thought fit. Ah ! they were a wild, reckless set of fellows,
^ I can tell you, and richly deserved the name they got of
' Palm oil ruffians.'
" There was one man," he continued, sending a cloud
of smoke curling up from his cigar, and warming to
his subject with the evident appreciation that it met,
"who had achieved an especially bad reputation for
indulgence of his temper and ill-treatment of his sub
ordinates. In his employ there was a clerk who had
offended him irretrievably over some affair, and his
master took an oath that this clerk should not leave the
coast alive. And how do you think he managed it ? "
said the captain, looking round to watch the effect of this
thrilling anecdote on the faces of his audience. " Why,
he sent him off in an open boat, with two of those one-
and-a-half ton palm oil barrels to a lighter anchored out
in the middle of the river with oil stowed in her, and
gave him orders to fill these two barrels, for which pur
pose the only utensil he allowed him was a small wooden
spoon. At the last minute he threw in some biscuits and
a small barrel of water, and let him go. There was no
shelter from the sun in either the lighter or the boat, and
the only way he could fill the barrels was to transfer one
spoonful of oil at a time. He managed to live on for ten
days in the awful heat, but then succumbed from thirst
and exposure combined."

Absolutism of Early Traders. 85
This tale was received with exclamations of horror and
revulsion that was very gratifying to the captain's powers
as a raconteur.
"Well," he continued, when this manifestation had
subsided, " in my time and within my knowledge, traders
have punished disobedient or refractory natives by landing
them on small islands without either shade or water, and
not taking them off again till they have been nearly dead
with thirst and exhaustion. That's a fact, I can vouch for
it on my own authority."

86 On a Surf-bound Coast.

CHAPTEE VI.
Lost, stolen, or strayed — Kroomen — Abolition of slavery— A native
barber — Landing a shark — The market — A literary shopkeeper —
" Locke on the Human Understanding."
Friday, June Wth. — The first news I hear on turning
out soon after six o'clock, is that a lighter, in which was
lying part of the hut we were sending ashore to erect
at the landing-place of the cable, and which had been
secured to the stern of the Thraeia the previous evening,
was missing. Opinion was divided as to whether, it had
sunk, drifted, or been stolen. The Pioneer was sent off
in search of it up the river, as the tide was running in at
the time. Some one suggested that a notice should be
placarded about the town in some such terms as these : —
" £5 EEWAED.
" Lost, stolen, or strayed, one lighter, brown, with white
points, age uncertain, but in sound condition, containing
the roof and four sides of a hut, with a table, four cases,
and a set of pickaxes, etc. Disappearance first noticed
early on the morning of the 11th inst. Whosoever shall
bring the same alongside the Telegraph Steamship Thraeia
will receive the above reward."
The idea, however, was abandoned, partly on account
of the uncertainty existing as to how many natives would
be sufficiently educated to read it, and also the proba-

Kroomen. 87

bility that those who were likely to know most about the
lighter would understand least about the notice.
It is a lovely morning, a fresh cool breeze blowing in
from the sea, and an agreeable temperature of 80° in the
shade. The steam lighter, with the captain and several
of the engineering staff, left early to land the shore end
at a spot some little distance to the right of the town,
and we who remain on board are watching her operations
through our glasses.
To-day we have engaged on board ship a batch of ten
Kroomen, consisting of a boatswain, a boatswain's mate,
and eight ordinary seamen. We have heard a great deal
on the coast about these Kroomen, and how useful they
are on board the English mails. As they come to us iu
meagre and somewhat threadbare cotton clothing, their
appearance at first is not striking, but is considerably
improved after we have fitted them out in our sailors' dark-
blue uniform and caps. They claim to be experienced
seamen, and the third officer gets the gig lowered and
takes them out in it in order to ascertain their capabili
ties. This could not be called an unqualified success.
They handled their oars as if they had never seen one,
and made the most ludicrous contortions in their en
deavours to profit by the coaching of the officer astern.
I suppose after one's ancestors have been in the habit of
using nothing but paddles for so many centuries, the first
generation that takes to oars is likely to find them rather
unmanageable to start with.
From my subsequent experience of the Kroomen, and
from what I heard from those who were best able, through
intercourse with them, to form a judgment on the point,
they are the most intelligent race of natives on the coast.
They are the only people who offer themselves out to do
work on hire, and they are found trustworthy and reliable.

88 On a Surf-bound Coast.
The country that originally belonged to them is the tract
of land just south of Sierra Leone, known as Liberia. In
the time of the anti-slave agitation, when £20,000,000 in
all was expended to secure their freedom, a philanthropist
society met in Washington in 1816, and floated a scheme
for sending a number of liberated slaves from Jamaica
and other West Indian Islands, back to their ancient
home in Africa. For this purpose they secured from the
native owners the portion of land just mentioned, and
named it Liberia, to show the object to which they meant
to dedicate it. They then sent these liberated slaves
over, gave them a constitution, made them a free state,
and left them, as they hoped, to the enjoyment of nine
teenth-century civilisation. But it will take many years
of evolution before the native African is sufficiently
advanced, morally and intellectually, to manage his
own affairs after European models. The government
of Liberia soon gave way to every kind of corruption, and
the well-meant attempt ended in complete failure.
To make way for a population of this character the
Kroomen had to cede the coast line, and retire further
inland. A large colony of them, however, has been
formed at Sierra Leone under the rule of King Tom
Peter, and the quarter they inhabit is called Krootown.
From this town, or from a small settlement on the
original seaboard, the ships going down the coast are
provided with the crews they require. All they have to
do is to send a note to the king, stating how many they
want, and he sends off the number under the charge of
a head man, who is responsible to him for them, and
whom they all have to obey. On the ship's return, they
are dropped again at Sierra Leone, or sometimes for
convenience at Bathurst. This is how we manage to
secure a crew of them here.

An Elegant Native Barber. 89
Kroomen are also in great demand down the coast in
the different factories or trading houses. Up the rivers,
in addition to ordinary work, they are found of great
service as night-watchmen, since the natives of the place
are altogether unreliable in this respect, being often in
league with the thief, and decamping with him after
effecting a robbery. The chief difficulty in connection
with them is that they will not engage themselves for
more than one, or at the most, two years, as they are very
much attached to home, and cannot endure to be absent
longer than that time. I was informed by a gentleman
who had had Krooboys in his employ at different times
for twenty years, that, if they are detained by some
accident — such as being unable to procure a passage back
— longer than the time agreed upon, they begin to mope
at once, and frequently die of home-sickness.
Kroomen entertain a prejudice against the Portugueses/
and are never to be found in their settlements or on
board their ships. Most of them have a tattoo mark of
a dull blue colour, in the shape of a broad bar running
down the forehead to the top of the nose, and sometimes
extending to the end of it.
In the afternoon I am seated on the quarter-deck read
ing, when I observe a boat coming up to the ship with
a native in the stern, well dressed in European fashion.
As he comes up the gangway I notice that he wears a
good-fitting suit of white ducks, and a sun helmet of the
latest military shape and colour, while he carries a small
silver-mounted cane in his right hand. I feel rather
interested to know who this elegantly attired gentleman
is, and revolve in my mind all the high official posts
which it is possible he may be holding in the colony.
On reaching the quarter-deck he returns the officer's
salutation with a familiar nod, and catching sight of a

90 On a Surf-bound Coast.

group of us seated aft, he bows to us with an equally
easy air, though, perhaps, a shade more ceremoniously.
Being nearest, I rise and go to meet him, to learn what
we can do fqr him. He saves me, however, from any
little awkwardness I might experience in ascertaining his
object, by saying, in good English, but with the usual
native staccato —
" I was sent here by the chaplain, sar. I am the barber.
Is there any gentleman present who wants his hair
cut?" I was so taken aback by this sudden revelation, that I
could not say anything at first ; but as none of the others
came forward to relieve my embarrassment, I replied
somewhat hesitatingly, " Well, yes, I want my hair cut.
Would you be at liberty to set to work at once, or will
you take a seat till you have recovered from the fatigue
of your passage over ? "
" Oh, I am quite ready now."
So I lead him forward to a quiet spot near the testing-
room, from which I procure a stool and seat myself upon
it. He takes a comb and a pair of scissors out of a side
pocket, apparently made for that purpose in his unexcep
tionable coat, and commences operations. For so elegant
a barber, it soon strikes me that he is proceeding with
rather undue hesitation, and so I ask him, putting it in a
way least likely to hurt his feelings, how long he has
been in the profession.
" Some time now, sar. I used to cut the officers' hairs
when I was in the army."
" When were you in the army ? "
"Let me see, sar; I entered the army in 1872, at
Kingston, Jamaica, where I was born. I then came over
to Sierra Leone with my regiment, and left it in 1884."
" Since which you have not had much practice, I should

The Barbers Bill. 91
say ? " getting rather annoyed by the time he was taking
and the mess I could feel he was making of my hair.
" Pretty good, sar ; pretty good. But business is very
slack in this place."
He finishes at last, and I am just debating whether
such clumsy work was worth threepence or sixpence, or
whether he didn't deserve to be sent off without getting
anything, when he clears up the difficulty from his point
of view by saying, "That's it, sar, thank you, sar; I
hope that suits you, sar. My charge is two shilling."
" Two shillings for chopping at my hair like that ! I
could have done it better myself with a pair of shears.
There's a shilling for you, and if you get as much from
any one else you will think yourself very lucky." And I
retire with great indignation against this specious-looking
but deceptive barber.
I notice that the sun sets here now at half-past six
o'clock. Saturday, June \2fh— At eight o'clock an outward
bound mail steamer comes in and drops anchor not far
from us. The steam lighter, which we had hoped to have
in order to lay our two other shore ends, has to leave us
and work the cargo of the steamer. In fact, as we after
wards learnt, the captain of the lighter got into hot water
with his superior — as soon as the latter heard the purpose
for which we had come to Bathurst — for doing any work
for us at all ; for he regards us not unnaturally as taking
away some of his business, and whereas, formerly, the coast
was entirely dependent on the mail steamers for the latest
home news, now, by the time they reach it, the informa
tion will be some two or three weeks old.
It is very hot to-day, hotter, indeed, than we have had
it at all as yet. The temperature in the testing-room

92 On a Surf-bound Coast.
is 88°, while it is 95° on deck beneath the awning. The
heat too is of that moist, oppressive character, which is
much more trying than a drier heat of even a higher
temperature. I am engaged in the testing-room in the morning, and
also after lunch till four o'clock. On leaving it and pass
ing the gangway I see the chief steward of the Pioneer
with one of his men sailing up alongside in their dingy.
He has probably come to return a formal call which he
owes to the chief steward of the Thraeia. As he passes
along the quarter-deck he says he will be off again for
the shore in a few minutes, and wants to know if he can
give any gentleman a passage there. As there is no other
boat available just now, I accept his offer. He does not
keep me waiting long, but comes running down the gang
way, jumps into the boat, in which I had already seated
myself, takes the helm, and tells his man to shove her off.
Then he issues a string of orders with respect to the only
sail the dingy boasted of, using the correctest nautical
phraseology to show that, in spite of his calling, he had
acquired as much knowledge of sailing as the oldest tar
afloat. The water is singularly clear, and floating over
the rippling surface are numbers of that pretty species of
jelly-fish known as Portuguese men-of-war, with bodies
of delicate, transparent blue and pink, and long tendrils
like roots hanging underneath them, while their backs
are humped up into a ridge to catch the wind and enable
them to sail.
A demand is soon made upon the steward's seamanship,
for the mail steamer has weighed anchor without our
noticing it, and is coming up right across our path be
tween the Thraeia and the shore. By a prompt and
masterly movement of the helm we go about, just in time
to see the steamer glide over the spot where we should

Landing a Shark. 93
have been if we had held our course. Not so fortunate
was a native canoe, which was swamped by the huge
vessel and its five occupants thrown struggling into the
water. They soon regain their craft and try to right her,
but with no effect, and they give up the attempt and
merely hold on, looking anxiously round for help before
a shark should appear and feast off their extremities. We,
of course, have at once headed for them, but before we
have got very far a boat which has put off from the
Thraeia reaches them, and pulling the men out of the
water, rights their canoe, and sends them on their way,
relieved, if not rejoicing. A boat, which was leisurely
manned, had just put off from the steamer, but seeing
the men were rescued, returned with as little concern as
they had started.
Directly after this, as we were again making for the
shore, we see a crowd of natives near one of the wooden
jetties, hauling on to a line running from the water, at
the end of which there seems to be a great disturbance.
While we watch they drag on shore a huge fish, which is
gasping and flapping viciously with its tail.
"That's a shark they've caught there, sir," says the
steward. " It's a good thing he wasn't round where those
men were upset, or one of them would have been missing
by this time. We will go and have a look at him, shall
we, sir ? " And he runs the boat ashore a few paces from
the spot.
We jump out, and making our way through the
crowd, which has now considerably increased, we see
in the midst a big shark, now nearly dead from several
deep wounds in the head made apparently by some heavy
metal instrument. In its repulsive mouth, situated far
back beneath, is a large iron hook with which it had been
caught. As it lies upon the ground with its enormous

94 On a Surf-bound Coast.
head and body tapering towards the tail, it looks, in
shape, very much like a gigantic tadpole.
Parting company here with the steward, who is going
marketing, I turn to the left along the marine parade
and walk under cover of the colonnade beneath the block
of buildings facing the sea. Native women have taken
advantage of this shelter from the sun to erect their stalls
and expose their goods for sale. Bargains are conducted
with loud vociferations and excited gestures, and I hear
an aged negress, whose patience had been thoroughly
exhausted in trying to sell a fish to an obstinate little
nigger boy, who would not alter his figure nor relinquish
his intended purchase, " Put down de fish, den, I tell you,
and go to 'ell, out of dis."
Glancing up a passage between two shops I catch a
glimpse of a sun helmet which I recognise, and going
up I find Mr. North just about to ascend a flight of stairs
in one of them. He had been on shore since we first
came, to arrange about the telegraph station. He wel
comes me and says, " This is where our offices are going
to be. Come and have a look at them." On the first
floor I find a very good suite of rooms with a wide
balcony in front facing the sea. The rooms have already
been provided with better furniture than I should have
thought possible to procure at such short notice in
Bathurst. Two of the operators whom the Pioneer
brought from Dakar, and who are going to be stationed
here, are in possession, and seem very well satisfied with
their new quarters.
I do not stay here long, as I wish to see if I can get a
cage in the town, and pay another visit to the bird-fancier
to get it filled. Walking back along the parade, I come
to the market, enclosed by a big wall, which I had noticed
the other evening. Having more leisure now, I walk in

The Market. 95

and find it crowded with natives. The chief article ex
posed for sale is fish, in the process of being dried ; but,
to judge from the fetid smell that arises from it, must be
in every stage of putrefaction. Flies are swarming down
black upon them, in spite of the care of their vendors,
who kneel over their property and try to keep them off
by waving to and fro a fan extemporised from tin or wood.
But the most repulsive-looking quarter of the market is
the butchers' corner, which lies underneath a large roof,
sheltered from the sun. The meat is of a dull purple
colour, being mostly the flesh of the ill-shaped, and ill-
fed hump-backed African bullock, which is reared on
this part of the coast. The butchers use no saws, and
apparently no knives, to cut the meat up, but it is hewn
into hideous masses with an axe and chopper.
As I am looking on, the native butcher says to me,
" Do you want any meat, sar ? " giving his chopper a
flourish in the direction of a huge, shapeless block of
flesh, to intimate he could accommodate me with an
enticing portion of it. Such a question required no reply,
and I make my way back towards the gate, down an alley
where they are selling oranges, bananas, pineapples, and
other fruit. As the end of this is blocked with natives, I
try to get round more quickly by going across the space
dedicated to the stalls, but my way is soon barred by an
enormous negress, who refuses to move an inch for fear I
might upset her goods in passing. She seems much
pleased when I go another way, and smiles as if it were a
signal triumph of black man over white man.
On getting outside the market and reaching the open
green, I meet a stream of natives coming from the direction
of the governor's house. They are for the most part gaily
dressed as if they were on a holiday, and many of them
carry curiously shaped swords in sheaths of fancy native

96 On a Surf-bound Coast.
leather-work. Catching sight of a policeman by his
white helmet, I ask him where they are all coming from.
He tells me they have been to see the governor go off to
the mail steamer. The natives enjoy the firing of the
salutes, the music of the band, and all the ceremony
which attends the departure of her Majesty's representative
from the colony. I learn afterwards that the latter is Com
mander Hay, going to take temporarily the governorship
of Sierra Leone, while Governor Eowe is absent at home.
It is a beautiful afternoon, and the gay colours of the
natives show to full advantage in the bright clear light.
Leaving this part, I cross the green, and seeing a good
class of shop, I go in to make inquiries about a bird-cage.
At Bathurst, as at all places down the coast, there are no
shop windows, or, indeed, any windows on the ground-
floor of a storehouse. There are generally two doorways
leading into the streets, the folding doors of which are
kept fastened back. On entering the shop I see a tall,
pleasant-looking native behind the counter, his chin
adorned by a short beard, and with a straighter nose and
more European caste of countenance than I have met
with as yet. He wears a white shirt, dark trousers, and
bare feet. I ask him if he has a bird-cage. He replies
in very good English, but with a slight lisp and the usual
jerky nigger enunciation, that he has not, but that he
will send and see if he can get one for me. I say I am
afraid I am troubling him. He responds, " Not at all,"
and offers me a chair behind the counter, which I take
and look round the shop. It contains a very miscellaneous
collection of articles, a book-shelf with new books, sta
tionery, small ornaments, and, behind the counter, all
sorts of different groceries.
Seeing some hair-brushes, I wonder if there is a large
sale of that article among the natives to rub their woolly

A Bathurst Shopkeeper. 97
heads with. I do not like to ask directly, in case I might
hurt his feelings ; but I inquire, by way of leading up to
it, if he has any combs ; and he replies, " No, sar ; there
is no sale for combs, but we sell a good many hair-brushes."
Shortly, a little nigger girl comes in with a cup, and asks
for something, the name of which I did not catch. He
takes a wooden spoon and ladles out from a large earthen
vessel a thick white substance, which looks like Devon
shire cream. Knowing that milk, and consequently cream,
is very difficult to get on the coast, I asked him what the
article was that he was putting into the cup. " This, sar ? "
— as he shook in the last spoonful — " this is lard, sar."
And perhaps I might be excused for not recognising it in
that state, which it assumes from the high temperature.
I now get up and inspect the book-case, and am much
surprised to find a variety of standard works. Among
them I may mention the novels of Miss Braddon, Charles
Dickens, and George Eliot ; and of more serious works,
The Letters of Junius, Josephus's " History of the Jews,"
and " Locke on the Human Understanding." I thought
to myself that this shopkeeper was a very enterprising
man to get these books, as there were hardly enough
Englishmen in the place to read them, and even they
would not care much for the heavier works. So I said,
" Do the natives here buy these books at all ? "
" Oh yes, sar ; I have sold a good number to
them." " Which do you find the most popular author among
them ? " rather surprised at this view of the native
African as a novel-reader.
" Why, sar, a man called Dickens is, I think, the most
popular. I have sold more of his works than of any of
the others."
" Well now," I said, pointing to " Locke on the Human

98 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Understanding," " a book like that, eh ? I don't suppose
you have a large sale for that."
" Let me see, sar," he replies meditatively. " I have
sold eight copies of that to natives within the last twelve
months. It is a good book. I have read it myself; but
it is not easy to understand at first. If you begin it, you
must keep your head down to it till you have finished it."
Having but a very imperfect acquaintance with this
well-known work myself, and considering it rather stiff
reading, the sense of intellectual superiority which it is
not unnatural to experience in conversing with a nigger
shopkeeper was by no means so pronounced as usual.
Here was a black gentleman who had studied one of the
best known English philosophical works, and who was
yet content to ladle out lard by the pennyworth to the
children of his mentally benighted countrymen. What
an example of calm contentment with one's lot in life.
" I suppose you were educated in an English school ? " I
say, after a brief silence, caused by this disclosure.
" Yes, sar ; I was educated at Sierra Leone. There are
some very good schools there." Then, after satisfying
himself that I have come, as he had imagined, off the
telegraph ship in the river, he asks me where the cable
was being laid from, and where it was going to, and
makes some very intelligent remarks upon the importance
of the communication thus established, on political and
commercial grounds. " It is a great thing for Bathurst
to be able to communicate in so short a time at once with
Sierra Leone and the Gold Coast on the south, and the
Continent and England on the north. It will work an
immense change in the character of the trade, and will be
very useful in case of disturbances in any district of the
coast." This interesting conversation was here cut short by the

A Fair Customer. 99
entrance of a pretty young negress customer, dressed in a
faultlessly clean blue and white cotton garment, wrapped
round in the native fashion, with a bright-coloured hand
kerchief arranged artistically round her head. As she is
entering noiselessly on her bare feet, the shopkeeper
catches sight of her, and they exchange smiles of recog
nition and the compliments of the occasion. They talk
English, but in a native patois which I could hardly
understand ; the gentleman relaxing into it from the good
English he had been talking to me in order to accommo
date himself to his fair customer. The conversation is
commenced something like this, by my entertainer.
" Well, Miss Eebecca, how are yon to-day ? " his face
beaming with pleasure, and his eyes twinkling with
suppressed mirth.
" Very well, thank you, Mr. Johnson," as she leans
carelessly but gracefully with one elbow on a raised case
on the counter, her countenance suffused with smiles.
" It is very hot to-day, is it not ? Do you feel the
heat much ? "
" Yes, it is very hot," she replies, and then they both
burst out into a most delighted infectious laughter, in
the abundance of their spirits.
"Well, now, Miss Eebecca," when they had some
what recovered from this ebullition, "what can I do
for you to-day ? "
" I want," she begins reflectively — time is no object
with these light-hearted natives— "I want — some flour.
- How much is it ? "
" Threepence, miss," trying to assume a serious air
now he was transacting business.
" Threepence ! " echoes the fair customer in much
feigned astonishment, and raising her soft musical voice
a pitch higher.

ioo On a Surf-bound Coast.
" Yes, miss, it is threepence. Times are bad, you
know ; " and having delivered himself of that depressing
statement, he can no longer restrain his mirth, but bursts
out into a delighted giggle, in which the girl joins him
with abandon, as though he had just said one of the most
irresistibly funny things imaginable. This is repeated
with each article required, and the shopkeeper spends a
lot of his valuable time in providing the young lady with
what she wants.
On her departure the assistant returns with two boys,
each carrying a bird-cage. These are of native work,
small, but prettily shaped. Being made, however, of soft
pith wood, into which the thin cross bars are run, they
are not very strong, and could stand very little knocking
about. In both cages there are two small, plain-coloured
birds, which the shopkeeper call African canaries. As
neither of the boys can speak English, I ask him to
inquire how much the small boy wants for his cage. He
answers " sixpence." That does not seem much. Then
the big boy is asked. He thinks for a little while, looks
at me, plucks up his courage, and says boldly, "one
shilling." The small boy here bursts out laughing, at
what he regards as a boldly conceived attempt to plunder
the white man.
As the big boy's cage is the best, I sign to him to
follow me, and thanking my intelligent host for the
trouble he has taken, I set out for the bird-fancier's shop.
Here I find him surrounded by a group of native
women — probably the same I saw working in the court.
— whom he is paying off, and I remember that it is
Saturday afternoon. Being thus employed, he sends an
assistant to catch the birds for me. This assistant is not
well practised in his work. He gets into the aviary, and
when I point out a bird I want, he grabs at it unsuccess-

Bargaining with a Native. ior
fully, making all the others rise from their perches in a
perfect cloud. After much trouble he has only caught
two, when his master appears, and seeing his slow pro
gress,, sends him out and undertakes the work himself.
The birds seem to know him better, so that when he has
selected one, he moves very quietly towards it, and with
a rapid movement catches it in his hand and has put it
in the cage almost more quickly than one could follow
with the eye.
When he has caught all I require, it becomes evident
that the cage is too small, and then he says he can let
me have one of his own, at some inconvenience to him
self, and he shows me an ordinary packing-case with wire
netting nailed over the top, and a few sticks for perches
inside. As it was a good deal larger than the boy's cage,
I ask him how much he wants for it. He replies " ten
shillings." Natives are most audacious in the matter of
making bargains, and mention a sum four or five times
the value of the article, expecting to be beaten down in
price. I merely said, " I will give you two shillings for
it ; " and seeing that I was not to be moved, he said he
would let me have it at that price, because, although it
was a loss to him, he liked to think that his birds weie-
well lodged and comfortable on leaving him.
As all this has taken some time, I am rather late, and
do not reach the jetty till after six o'clock. There are
no boats of ours on the beach, and the natives are dragging
theirs up for the night. I persuade one man to take me
off by the promise of a large reward, but after he has
gone a little way, it turns out that it is not his own boat,
and his master shouts for him peremptorily to return. I
am beginning to despair of reaching the ship at all that
night, when a boat appears at the jetty with a man and
boy in it, and they agree to take me off. It is a very

102 On a Surf-bound Coast.
old boat, making water rapidly, which the boy stops now
and then to bale out. The man has only got half an oar,
and the boy half a rowlock, so between them the pace is
decidedly slow, and I do not reach the ship till nearly a
quarter to seven. However, I am in time for dinner, as
it has been delayed for the return of a party of inspection
gone along the shore. The saloon is hotter than ever,
and it is, as Mr, Shirley calls it, a "two pockethand-
kerchief night,"

( i°3 )

CHAPTEE VII.
A deserted house for a testing-hut — Landing the shore ends — The
labour market in Bathurst — The Pioneer takes her turn on
a sandbank — Splicing cable — The Thraeia begins laying her
first length — A midnight watch — Grappling — Harpooning a shark
— Telegraphic communication at sea with shore — Picking up cable
— Experiences of an operator.
Sunday, June 13th. — The doctor, who is a staunch
churchman, procures the services of the captain's gig, and
taking with him as many as he can persuade, goes off to
church on shore. The rest of us are busy turning over
the other two shore end cables into another steam lighter
we have managed to procure. It is all in by lunch time,
and after lunch she steams off and takes up a position
opposite the landing-place to land them.
Mr. Shirley and myself go off in a boat to an empty house
on the beach just opposite the landing-place, and into which
the end of the first cable was temporarily run for testing
purposes. We find it a well-built house, two storeys high,
with fireplaces in all the first-floor rooms, and marble
mantelpieces over them. The ground-floor, like most of
the houses on the coast, consists only of a kitchen and
two cellar-like storerooms, with iron gratings in the place
of windows, and not meant to be inhabited. It is paved
with a firm black cement, which is very necessary in
Bathurst, as floods occur not only from the deluge of

104 On a Surf-bound Coast.
tropical rain, but from the rising of the river as well.
The swallows are at present in possession of the kitchen
and store rooms, building in the rafters of the ceiling,
and flying in aud out unceasingly through the iron gratings.
Behind the house is an enclosure which was once a
garden, surrounded by a wall of cement. There is no
trace of any cultivation now, but there are some fine trees,
the bread-fruit tree, the silk cotton with its ribbed trunk,
and the lofty palm towering above them all. Hidden in
the graceful fronds of these is a palm bird, the sweetest
of African songsters, carolling forth its rich deep notes.
In front of the house, along a path by the beach, a string
of native women of the lower class are moving along
towards the town with large sacks of grain poised upon
their heads.
After inspecting the different rooms, we decide upon
the kitchen to set up our instruments in, as, although not
so inviting, it is preferable to the first floor on account of
being firmer and not so likely to interfere with the testing
by shaking the delicate magnet of the galvanometer.
What was once the dresser makes a stout useful testing-
table, and we are soon hard at work arranging them on it.
While thus engaged, a tall native of dark but not
black complexion, and with more regular features than
ordinary, makes his appearance at the door. He is
dressed, presumably because it is Sunday, in the orthodox
English black coat and trousers, surmounted by a low
black hat, and carrying a stick in his hand. On entering,
he bows gravely and, without making a remark, takes up
a favourable position for watching our operations. This
solitary spectator is soon joined by a little nigger boy
of about ten years of age, who is dressed in a light grey
boy's suit of English make. He introduces himself as the
chaplain's son, and sustains an instructive and entertaining

Landing the Shore Ends. 105
conversation by alternately asking for and imparting
information. He tells us that there are two good schools
in Bathurst, one supported by the Eoman Catholics, the
other by the Wesleyans. The Church of England members
are not numerically strong enough to have one. He
declares Bathurst on the whole to be healthier than Sierra
Leone, but that in the rainy season, which is just com
mencing, the climate is very trying, and white men have
to leave, or suffer for it.
When we have set up the instruments and tested the
shore end already laid, it is getting late, and on looking
out we are surprised to see the lighter still anchored off the
house. We hear, however, that the landing of the two shore
ends has been postponed till the next morning, and we
prepare to leave for the ship. We have hired a watch
man to look after the house at night, and on departing
Mr. Shirley says to him, " Now, don't set the place on
fire," to which comes the prompt reply, " Yes, sar," which
niggers use with great impartiality whether they under
stand or not what is being said to them.
Monday, June 14th. — We start landing the shore ends
early this morning. This is generally done by fixing
two spider sheaves or large grooved wheels on the beach
some little distance from each other and then sending
out a line, which is attached to the end of the cable to be
landed, leading it through these sheaves and back again to
the ship. Here it is coiled round the drum, and being
hauled on to, drags the cable out of the ship towards the
shore. As the cable is a great weight, and it is not
possible, in case of pointed rocks and the like, that it
should be hauled along under the water on the bottom, we
use large indiarubber balloons inflated with air, and attach
them to the cable at every thirty or forty yards interval.

106 On a Surf -bound Coast.

These are sufficient to float it till it reaches the shore,
where they are taken off one by one as they arrive.
On this occasion, as the steam lighter does not possess
the requisite machinery, a large number of natives have
been collected on the beach, and they haul on to the line
and draw the cable slowly towards the shore.
By eleven o'clock they have got the two cables on shore
and dragged them up to the house, when they remember
it is their breakfast hour, and they at once stop working.
It is no good pointing out to them how necessary it is to
complete the work at once by digging a trench from the
water's edge to the house, in order to protect the gutta
percha of the cable from exposure to the rays of a midday
sun. Equally unavailable is it to offer to double their
pay for the short extra time it would take them. They
stolidly reject all proposals and troop off towards the
town, saying they will be back in a couple of hours. The
natives of Bathurst are free men, and they will never do
a stroke of work if they can possibly avoid it. In all pro
bability, the only reason we got their services at all was
that curiosity prompted them to watch our proceedings,
and they could not do so more thoroughly than by helping
in the work. Usually the men do no work at all, but look
to their wives to support them and their families, while they
stand or sit about in groups and smoke the pipe of peace
and comfort. It is said that a nigger in Bathurst would
rather drink foul water collected in the streets than go
to the pains of drawing fresh water from a well.
This obstinate indifference to our requests is very
irritating to Mr. Shirley, who has now come on shore to
see how matters are progressing. Accordingly, seeing
a few spectators still left, he induces them to set to work,
and we finish the trench and bury the cable almost an
hour before the troop have begun to reappear.

A Useful Jetty. 107
The steam lighter commenced paying out directly the
shore ends were landed, but she has been going very
slowly, as she has not got the proper paying out machinery ;
and now we see that she has let go anchor and is once
more stationary. We get back to the ship in time for
lunch, and late in the afternoon the Thraeia' s steam launch
returns from the lighter, reporting that she is anchored
for the night. It appears that her engines, being very
old, were considerably out of repair, and that much delay
had been caused by the bursting of steam pipes and
similar mishaps. She was, however, now well over the
shallow sandbank and in deep enough water for the
Pioneer to go round and tow her whilst laying the
remainder of the shore ends.
Tuesday, June 15th. — The Pioneer weighs anchor at
seven o'clock and steams off round the sandbank in the
direction of the steam lighter. We do not start so early,
as we have to send ashore two drums of cable for the
landline, to be laid between the telegraph station and the
place where the cable is landed. The landline cable,
being of a very light type, is, for convenience of tran
shipment, coiled round wooden cylinders shaped like
drums, in one mile or half mile lengths. These drums
were sent off in a lighter towed by a rowing boat, but on
arriving at the jetty it was found that the crane of which
it boasted was not sufficiently powerful to raise them.
Accordingly one of our own derricks was sent for and
erected. This device was not, however, attended by any
better success. For the jetty was so rotten that, when
the hoisting commenced the derrick went right through
the staging. Eventually the lighter had to be beached
and the drums hauled out and rolled up from the water's
edge.

ro8 On a Stcrfbound Coast.
As soon as this was done we weigh anchor and follow
after the Pioneer. When we get up to her about noon,
we find she is stationary, reposing on a sandbank, with
the lighter lying astern of her. The entrance to the
Gambia is very difficult navigation and notoriously ill-
surveyed, the few buoys which are put down being
scarcely reliable on aceount of the shifting character of
the sands. Mail steamers are frequently delayed by
going aground here. We anchor some little distance away,
and wait for the tide to ease her off. This happens about
four o'clock, and the Pioneer recommences towing the
lighter, which has yet some lengths of cable to lay.
We have had dinner on board the Thraeia, and are
enjoying our evening pipes before we see by her lightsi
that the Pioneer has at length finished the job and let
go anchor. Shortly after, the steam launch, which took
some of our staff and a boat load of cable hands over to
help on board the Pioneer, comes dashing up alongside,
the surf-boat with the men in tow behind it. It is a dark
night, and the two crafts suddenly emerging from the
gloom at sea into the sparkling waters illumined by
the clear white electrie light half way up our mainmast,
have a picturesque, stage-like effect. The launch stops its
way at once and glides alongside of the gangway as easily
and as well judged as if it were endowed with life, whilst
the surf-boat, slipping the towing rope, forges ahead to
the swinging boom, the men in their white sun helmets
and bronzed faces looking like a boat load of soldiers
coming alongside a troopship.
Wednesday, June IQih. — We are all up by six o'clock,
looking forward to some real work at last. The ship is
already under way and setting on for the buoy attached
to the shore end which is to be extended to meet the

Splicing Cable. 109

St. Jago cable. We are soon alongside of it, a boat is
sent off to make the line fast to the chain, and then, after
the buoy has been detached and floated round to be
hauled on board, the chain is heaved in, bringing the
mushroom anchor and the end of the cable up with it.
When the end is on board the operation of splicing it
to the cable in the tanks commences. The splice consists
of two parts; firstly, the jointing, which is the term
applied to joining together the small copper conductor
in the centre and coating it over with gutta percha to
make the insulation perfect. This is the most important
part, because the efficiency of the cable depends upon
this covering ; and if there is the smallest hole owing to
air bubbles or to some mechanical means, a fault is sure
to be developed there sooner or later. So important is it,
that there is a class of men called "jointers," trained
especially for joint making, and who have to go through
a long apprenticeship before they are considered com
petent to perform the work.
The second part, the " splicing " properly so called, con
sists in re-covering this inner core with the hemp cords and
steel wires, which serve to strengthen the cable and protect
it as far as possible from mechanical injuries. When a
joint is about to be made between two pieces of cable, the
steel wires and hemp cords at the ends of both are opened
out and untwisted for several fathoms. Then a length of
core, usually about seven or eight fathoms, is cut off one
of them. The two ends of the core now left are brought
together, the gutta percha covering, which in all is about
a quarter of an inch diameter, heated and turned back
for an inch or so, and the two ends of the copper wire
conductor thus exposed are carefully cleaned, filed into
a wedge shape, and soldered together. This being done,
the getta percha is turned back over the joint and further

no On a Surf bound Coast.
strengthened by a covering of gutta percha sheetin"-.
When the gutta percha, which is heated to be put on, has
cooled — and this is often a tedious process in hot climates
when the ice has run out — the splicing begins, and the
core is covered by the hemp cords and steel wires, the
latter being cut so that the points where a wire of one
cable meets a corresponding wire of the other cable are
not all at one spot, but distributed over some length, with
about a foot or two distance between them.
When the splice is finished, the engines are set going,
and the Thraeia commences laying her first length of
cable this voyage. The three staffs are all busily engaged.
The chief engineer is on the chain gratings watching the
rate at which the cable is being paid out, and regulating
the speed of the ship by a telegraph communicating with
the engine-room. The juniors are hurrying to and fro
with an important, business-like air, and note-books in
their hands, observing the strain on the dynamometer,
attending to the proper regulation of the breaks on the
paying-out drum, and taking the readings of the indicator
for the length of cable which has run out. The repre
sentative of the hydrographical department is on the
bridge making notes of any alterations in the course, and
occasionally going down to his chart table on deck to enter
them on the chart. In the testing-room beneath the
bridge is an electrician watching the movements of the
spot of light thrown on the scale from the mirror of
the galvanometer.
I go on watch at noon. The room is darkened to a
certain extent to make the spot sufficiently visible, and I
find it unpleasantly warm, the temperature being 87° F.
By four o'clock we have laid the whole of the cable
spliced on, and prepare to buoy. The end of the cable is
bent on to the chain, attached to the buoy at one end and

Our Quarter-deck transformed. 1 1 1
to the mushroom anchor at the other. The mushroom is
then let go, its weight, added to that of the cable, drag
ging the chain rapidly down, and making it leap and rattle
as it flies out of the wooden box on the quarter deck where
it is coiled, through the square hole in the bulwarks.
The buoy, with a distinguishing flag on her, is slipped last
of all, and the men give her a cheer as she glides quietly
astern till brought up by her anchor. We now steam
back to splice on a length of cable to the north shore end
running from Bathurst towards Dakar.
It does not take long to get back and pick up the buoy,
and by seven o'clock this fresh splice is finished and we
are again paying out. My watch is from 12 to 4 a.m.,
so I do not hurry up on deck after dinner. When I
turn out at midnight the transformation in the appear
ance of the quarter-deck from what it has been hitherto is
very striking. It is almost entirely deserted, and not a
single easy chair is to be seen. They are all piled away
on the top of deckhouses, or in some unfrequented corner.
Three powerful clusters of incandescent lamps are dis
tributed over the quarter deck, and shed a clear, bright
light on everything, so that the smallest object is dis
tinctly visible.
The ship is making about five knots, and the cable is
running smoothly, though quickly, out of the after-tank
situated between the mizzenmast and the funnel. There
are only two individuals here. The cable foreman is
sitting on the edge of the hatchway, leaning over and
watching the cable uncoiling itself, and occasionally ad
dressing a remark to the two cable hands in the tank
beneath. These men are employed in removing the pieces
of wood which are placed at intervals over each flake to
prevent it getting foul of the flake above. The other
occupant of the deck is standing, pouring water from a

1 1 2 On a Surf-bound Coast.
large can over the cable at the point where it enters a
quadrant trough leading to the friction table. The water
is to prevent the cable fouling in its passage through
being too sticky, though the whitewash in which it is
immersed before and after loading is supposed to effectu
ally guard against it. Another cable hand keeps this
man supplied with full cans of water. The cable runs
from the friction table, which serves the double purpose
of straightening and checking it, on to the drum. Eound
one end of this, as has been described, the cable is coiled
three times, and over the rest of the drum, which is con
siderably the larger portion, are the breaks, with weights
which can be added or removed at pleasure. A hose is
kept playing on the breaks incessantly, to prevent too
much heat being developed by the friction. Just abaft
of the drum and connected with it by cog-wheels, the
indicator with five dials is performing its silent work, the
unit figures replacing each other with great rapidity,
while the tens, hundreds, and thousands are proportion
ately slow. The indicator is visited every now and then
by some one on watch in the engineer's office, where the
readings are worked out and reported at regular intervals.
Between the drum and the chain gratings is the dynamo
meter, and close by this is placed the wheel by which the
strain of the breaks is increased or lightened. The object
of this position is that the man who works it may watch
the rise and fall of the index of the dynamometer and
regulate the breaks accordingly.
There is one other person visible. He is the engineer
on watch, sitting in the sole remaining easy chair on the
chain gratings, and looking as comfortable and as free
from care as if he were merely an amused spectator of all
that is going on. The only sounds are the dull, monoto
nous vibrations of the drum, the plash of the water pour-

Grappling for Cable. 1 1 3
ing from the hose upon the breaks, and the subdued hum
of the electric engines amidships. On going forward to
take my watch in the testing-room, I find the same quiet
prevailing, and I can see no one but the officer pacing up
and down the bridge.
By four o'clock in the morning this length of cable is
paid out and buoyed, and I turn in while the Thraeia
steams back to join up another section.
Friday, June 18ih. — All yesterday we were at work on
the three sections, picking up the end of one, adding on a
length of cable to it, buoying again, and going on to the
next. We had now carried them out to nearly on a level
with the T-piece. This morning we begin grappling for
the old line of cable between the T-piece and Dakar
northwards, in order to cut it and splice the Dakar end
on to the section we have run out from Bathurst.
The grappling iron used for picking up cables is some
thing like a fish-hook with six barbs. These barbs have
flat blunt points, and from the bend of the hook to the
tip are about a foot in length. The line of the cable having
been ascertained from the charts made at the time of
laying, the ship takes up a position at right angles to it,
lets go the grappling iron till it touches the bottom — allow
ing several fathoms of slack — and then steams slow ahead,
crossing and recrossing the line till the cable is hooked.
The chain attached to the grapnel is coiled round the
drum of the picking-up machinery, and on its way over
the bow sheaves passes under the dynamometer. The
dynamometer plays an important part in this operation,
and is carefully watched, as by its indications it must be
judged whether the strain is due to having hooked the
cable or to some obstruction at the bottom of the sea in
which the iron has got fixed. 1

114 On a Surf-bound Coast.
On this occasion, almost directly after lowering the
grapnel and steaming slow ahead, the index on the dyna
mometer runs up considerably, and we think we have
hooked the cable at the first drag. The ship's engines
are stopped and the picking-up machinery begins to
heave slowly 011 to the grappling chain. But the dyna
mometer continues to show an alarming increase in strain,
and just as the order is given to stop heaving before it
becomes too great, the chain slackens suddenly and the
index runs down to nearly zero. On again heaving up,
the end of the chain soon appears at the surface, but so
far from bringing the cable with it, the grapnel itself has
disappeared, being broken sharp off at the stem. Another
grapnel is quickly attached and lowered into the water.
Again on heaving the index rises, but this time more
slowly and more regularly. The chain is gradually hauled
up and then the grapnel appears at the surface with the
bight of the cable suspended over two of its hooks. When
the grapnel is half way up to the bow sheaves, and the
cable is well out of the water, two men are lowered in
boatswains' chairs to attach a chain to the cable each side
of the bight.
While they are engaged in doing this, a gleam of light
shines forth in the clear blue water underneath, and a
large shark glides quietly past with its two small pilot
fish, one above each of its huge side fins. Now that the
ship is no longer in movement and the propeller is at
rest, it has appeared, as they usually do, on a visit of
inspection to see what it can pick up. No doubt the two
men hanging at so short a distance above the water are
particularly tantalising, and have so appetising an effect
that the shark grows bolder and bolder, gliding to and
fro beneath the bows at only a foot or so in depth beneath
the surface. However, it soon has occasion to repent this

Communicating at Sea with Shore. 115
hardihood. For one of the sailors has managed to find a
harpoon, and with a skilful throw, just as it is coming up
nearer than ever to the surface, drives the iron deep into
its back. There is a rapid plunge, and a foaming mass
of water thrown up, but the harpoon line remains fast,
and the weapon itself has sunk too far to be so quickly
torn out. Several of the men begin to haul upon the
line, but when they have brought the shark up to the
surface again, with a final effort it frees itself and dis
appears, leaving the water all round discoloured with a
deep purple tinge.
The chains are by this time made fast to the cable,
and the two men hauled up on board again. When the
grapnel, relieved by the chains of the weight of the cable,
has been released from its hold and taken up out of the
way, the cable is drawn up and cut at the bight. Leads,
or covered copper wires, are run from the testing-room to
the two ends thus opened, to connect them with the
mirror -speaking instrument. The principle of this
instrument is the same as that of the galvanometer, only
the spot of light reflected from the lamp by the mirror
on to a scale moves to the right or left to represent the
dashes and dots of the Morse code, the change of move
ment being effected by a key which reverses the current.
The end of the cable running northwards towards Dakar
is first connected to the instrument, and we send a call
signal to the other end: They answer at once, orders
having been given, when we were at Daker, to keep watch
for us at all the different stations along the line. We tell
them to " stand by," and then we join the other end of the
cable to the instrument. This end runs to the T-piece,
which is simply a joint where one cable meets another.
From this T-piece one line goes westward to the Cape
Verde island of St. Jago, the other goes southward to

1 1 6 On a Surf bound Coast.
another T-piece. Here again the cable divides into one
section running to the Portuguese settlements of Bulama
and Bissao, while the other continues southward to Conraki,
a French possession, and the furthest limit of the line.
Of these different stations we call St. Jago first, by the
simple code signal, by which it is known, of S.J. This
signal, owing to the two T-pieces, runs to the other stations
as well, and is simultaneously visible at all. St. Jago, of
course,alone replies, saying in the brief telegraphic formula,
"Here, S.J., understand, O.K." We reply with almost
equal brevity, " Here ship, stand by for half an hour."
Then we call Bulama and Conakri in turn by the initials
of B.M. and O.K., and we get immediate replies from
both. Thus within so short a time we have picked up a
cable some distance out at sea, cut it, and put ourselves
in immediate communication with the Cape Verde Islands
and three different stations on the coast, and we are
answered as rapidly as if their respective clerks had been
waiting outside the testing-room door.
After giving the stations on the south end of the cable
instructions when to expect us again, we buoy that end,
and commence picking up on the other end towards
Dakar. We do this in order to relay the cable in a
different direction towards the section we have run out
from Bathurst to meet it. As the cable is picked up, it
is coiled down in the fore tank ready for relaying. The
cable at first comes up somewhat worn and ragged, proving
a rough and rocky bottom. So worn is it at one part,
that on the strain increasing rapidly owing to some
obstruction at the bottom, it suddenly snaps at the drum,
and the end goes flying out at the bows like a flash of
lightning, dangerously near the engineer on watch there.
However, on grappling, it is again hooked without much
loss of time, and is now coming up in better condition.

An Operator s Experiences. 1 1 7
Picking up is tedious work, as the average speed is not
much more than three knots an hour. The machinery, too,
is very heavy and massive, in order to be of the requisite
strength, and works with a deafening whirl and vibration
which penetrates even into the testing-room and interferes
to some extent with the readings of the galvanometer.
After picking up a dozen miles, the course is changed,
and we commence paying out again from the bows, the
cable slipping into the water on one side of the ship.
It is two o'clock in the morning before we have let go
the final splice, and then Mr. Shirley and I go down below
quite ready for the supper which the steward has left out
for us overnight, and feeling we have justly earned it.
Unfortunately, the most important article, the corkscrew,
has been omitted, and we fare badly in the way of aerated
drinks, for which we feel most inclined, as breaking the
neck of one of those bottles in hot climates always result
in losing the whole contents, and the corks cannot be
induced to come out by any other means. So we have to
turn in with disappointed hopes.
Saturday, June 19ih. — One of the operators whom the
Pioneer brought off at Dakar, but who was not landed at
Bathurst, has just been transferred to the Thraeia, to
assist in the watch in the testing-room. He sits next to
me at lunch. I have not met him before, but we enter into
conversation at once, in which he gives me, with great
frankness, a short autobiographical sketch.
From his story it appears that a telegraph clerk in a
large company has an opportunity of residing in a great
variety of places in different quarters of the globe. He
tells me that when he came out to the coast ten months
ago, he had not been engaged in the telegraph service for
several years. Previously, however, he had been in the

1 1 8 On a Surf bound Coast.
employ of the Eastern Company and among other places
had been stationed in Bombay, Aden, and Suez, and at
South America, in the Brazils, and in Para, on the Amazon.
He was not very well satisfied with the berth he had at
home, and had been persuaded to try his luck again at his
former calling; and he concludes with a smile half in
earnest, half in jest, " I dare say it will be the death of
me this time."
Mr. Shirley is as usual contributing very largely to the
general entertainment. I hear him retailing a confiden
tial conversation he has just had with a cable hand.
" You married at eighteen, do you say, Jackson ? How
came you to be so silly ? "
" Well, sir, you see, I was out of work at the time, and
I had nothing to do."
"Did you hear Jimmy Wood the other morning?"
breaks in Jenkins. "Jimmy had been up nearly all
night, running about in his cheery manner, at one time
down in the tank, then along the deck out to the stern
sheaves. He was wearing a coloured flannel shirt, which
when clean could not have been of very elegant appearance,
and which at that time looked decidedly disreputable,
covered as it was with dirt and whitewash from the cable.
There was a handkerchief round his neck, and a loose felt
hat on his head, also bespattered with whitewash. The
men had just brought along some buoy chain in a truck
from ' forrard,' and there was a halt whilst one of them
was getting the box ready for it. In this pause Jimmy
exclaims, wiping his forehead meditatively with his shirt
sleeve —
" ' What day of the week is it, lads ? '
" ' Why, Monday, of course, Jimmy.'
"'Well, hang me, if I don't put a clean shirt on next
Saturday, whether 1 want it or no.' "

The Deck at 2 a.m. 1 1 9
Talking of long watches, Mr. Shirley declares he was
once on duty for eighty-four hours at a stretch, with in
tervals of three-quarters of an hour, during which he
reposed in an easy chair on deck.
" How long were the periods of activity ? " asks Jenkins,
in a somewhat sceptical tone.
" I think we are all having a pretty good spell now,"
remarks Mr. Thurston, as he rises from table to resume
his watch on deck.
I am on watch from two to six in the afternoon, and
then not again till two in the morning. Consequently,
I turn in rather earlier than usual. When I go up on
deck at two o'clock, everything is going on with clock
work regularity, the ship is gliding along at the rate
of seven knots an hour, the cable is running out easily
and smoothly, while there are only the usual two occu
pants of the quarter-deck visible. I hear the monotonous
plash of the water pouring from the hose upon the
breaks, and the uniform vibration of the revolving drum.
Passing along the alley way leading forward, in which
the engine-room, the base of the funnel, and the electric
light engines combine to make the heat and noise
intolerable, I reach the testing-room. The forepart of the
ship is brightly illuminated by the clear electric light
suspended from the mast. All here is hushed and still.
On the bridge I can see the first officer pacing softly up
and down. The captain is dozing in an easy chair shel
tered on two sides and above by the awning round the
bridge. He prefers to be near at hand in case of any
change of instructions, to being called up in his cabin.
The third officer is also on the bridge, leaning motionless
against the handrail, and at present gazing into vacancy.
On the gratings over the hatchway, between the testing-
room and the galley, reclines the jointer, who is in attend-

120 On a Surf bound Coast.
ance on the electrician on watch, a book helping to pajs
the moments when he is disengaged. Occasionally a
quarter-master passes on his way to take the log, or a
fireman, straight from the stokehole, with large beads of
perspiration standing out on his face and arms, moves
languidly forward to get a wash and a little fresh air.
By four o'clock there comes into view the arc light of
the Pioneer — she had gone on to the T-piece overnight to
act as a beacon for which to steer — and by five o'clock we
have cut the cable and buoyed within a short distance of
the piece.

( 121 )

CHAPTEE VIII.
Slipping a final splice — Leaving Bathurst — Notes on the colony —
French offers of exchange— A tornado — Off Bulama — Tumbo
Island and Conakri — The Pioneer strikes on a rock — Hauled off by
the Thraeia — Difficulties experienced in landing the shore end —
When and what to eat and drink — Leaving Conakri to lay towards
Sierra Leone.
Monday, June 21st. — Yesterday we completed the second
of the three sections — the one from Bathurst to St. Jago
— and now we are making the final splice of the Bathurst-
Conakri cable. Slipping a final splice is always an
interesting occasion on board a cable ship, and the bows
are crowded with the cable hands who have been engaged
in making the splice, together with many sailors and
others off duty who are present as spectators only. The
two ends to be joined are brought over the bow sheaves,
one on each side, and are made fast by stout ropes while
the splice is being made. When it is finished, these ropes
are slacked away till the bight of the cable has passed
over the sheaves and is well clear of the bows, at only a
few feet above the surface of the water. The engineer
on watch is standing on the bow baulks, giving his orders
and superintending the operation. Two men are stationed
each side, armed with sharp hatchets, ready to cut the
ropes, which are pressed down on a block of wood to effect
this more easily. When the engineer gives the word, a

122 On a Surf-bound Coast.
quick blow each side severs the ropes, and the bight of
the cable plunges into the water, the two ends of rope
flying in its track. A chorus of acclamations accompany
the successful termination of the work, and the cable
foreman, from his vantage ground in the bow baulks,
waves his cap above his head, and cries, " Let's give her
three cheers, boys ! " which is at once taken up with great
vigour by every one present ; and then there is a general
move below to get a special allowance of grog in honour
of the occasion.
We now set on for Bathurst again, whither the Pioneer
had gone several hours before. We reach it about five
o'clock in the afternoon, and drop anchor in our former
position. Soon after, a boat comes up to the gangway,
and an Englishman gets out, mounts the ladder, and, on
reaching the deck, asks for Mr. White. The officer on
duty tells him that he is at present on the Pioneer, but
will probably be back on the Thraeia in a short time.
The stranger says that Mr. White expects him, and then
comes aft to where we are seated, and commences a con
versation with great ease of manner and freedom from
embarrassment. He is a tall, dark man, with good features
and a well-trimmed beard. He is dressed in a short coat
of light grey summer cloth, trousers of white duck, and
wears a soft grey felt hat, artistically curved round the
brim. After the usual salutations have been exchanged
and he has been accommodated with an easy chair, he
begins — ¦
"Well, what do you think of Bathurst? I suppose,
like Mr. White, whom I met on shore when you were here
a few days ago, you have not yet developed any great
admiration for it. I can't say much in praise of it myself.
In the rainy season it is intolerable — like being in one
continual vapour bath of the most oppressive heat, with

Early Days of Cable-laying. 123
all the discomforts from the floods of rain as well. Even
those engaged in business go away at the worst period of
the year ; and a wretched time those have of it who are
left behind.
" In the cool season Bathurst is not so bad ; indeed, at
times it might be called quite pleasant. But I can't
say much in favour of this coast ; and I know it pretty
well now, all along this part. It is not to be compared
to the West Indies, where I was for ten years. This
ship is an old acquaintance of mine. The last time I
was aboard of her was over there, some sixteen years
ago. Ah ! those were gay times for cable laying ; and the
arrival of a cable ship was made the occasion of a good
deal of merry-making. The Thraeia always responded
warmly when anything of that sort was going on; and
many a festive evening have I spent on board of her. She
was in different hands in those times — times when she
would think nothing of cutting the cable, and buoying it,
in order that her staff might be present at a picnic or a
ball got up on their behalf. I like the West Indies very
much. The people are very hospitable, and are always
ready to put aside business for pleasure — a custom that
you find becomes very infectious when you get there.
They have not very much money, it is true ; but then they
don't expect you to have any, so it doesn't much matter.
I wish I had never left the West Indies for this benighted
coast, though one does get a little more money here.
"Any parrots in Bathurst, did you say? Yes; but
they want too much for them. You had better wait till
you get lower down on the Gold Coast. The natives
bring them off to the ship in basketfuls ; and you can get
half a dozen, if you want them, for ten shillings ; " a state
ment which was received at the time with a great deal of
silent incredulity, but which we subsequently found to be

124 On a Surf-bound Coast.
very little, if at all, exaggerated. And he ran on in this
way very pleasantly, giving us a mass of amusing informa
tion, though somewhat obscured by a partiality he dis
covered for clothing it in a paradoxical garb. He also
submits to have his photo taken in a group by our chief
amateur photographer, who is anxious to have so distin
guished-looking a personage in his collection.
At dinner this gentleman monopolises much of the
conversation, his descriptions becoming more highly
coloured and antithetical, while he raises his voice suffi
ciently to be heard by the whole table. He gives an
elaborate account of a metaphor used by a native king in
his correspondence with the Governor of Bathurst, a
metaphor which he declares to be full of striking illus
tration and the subtlest innuendo, but the point of which
is so involved that we entirely fail to understand it.
Abandoning these literary curiosities as being beyond our
level, he condescends to politics, and tells us he was in
England during the last election ; that, although a Con
servative at heart, he recorded his vote in favour of a
certain prominent nobleman who stood in the Liberal
interests, defending his conduct by saying, with much
apparent naivete", "But then, one's obliged to vote for
one's cousin, you know."
Tuesday, June 22nd. — To-day we are leaving Bathurst
for Conakri, from which place we are to continue the
cable to Sierra Leone. The Pioneer weighs anchor at
ten, and the Thraeia about half an hour after. It is a
fine morning ; and as we steam away Bathurst is seen to
full advantage, with its groups of houses separated by its
magnificent tropical growth of trees. Certainly, as a
recent visitor has described it, " from the sea the aspect
of this pest-house is not unpleasant."

Notes on Bathurst. 125
Bathurst is called by another visitor the " Euined river
port," as the French' have taken nearly all the trade in
the principal article of export, namely, the pea nut or
ground nut, which is used in making salad oil. They are
anxious to acquire possession of Bathurst altogether, as
that would enable them to concentrate their territory in
Western Africa, the provinces of Senegal and Gambia
being contiguous to each other. For this purpose they
have offered to the English three places — Grand Bassam
and Assinee on the Gold Coast, and Gaboon, south of the
Cameroons, in exchange for Bathurst. The first two
places, Grand Bassam and Assinee, would consolidate our
possessions on the Gold Coast, coming next, as they do, to
the English town of Accra. It was from Assinee that the
Ashantees procured their firearms and ammunition during
the war, and the possession of that place would have been
of great value to us then. At Gaboon the trade is as
much, or more, in the hands of the English, as the trade
at Bathurst is in the hands of the French. So these
exchanges would be mutual benefits, in which the English
would be by no means the losers.
The annual income of Bathurst is £28,866, the ex
penditure £23,862, and the economies £25,000, which are
forwarded to the colonial chest. The imports and exports
are said to amount to £300,000. The natives along the
coasts of Senegal and Gambia are mostly Joloffs. They
are the only really coal black race in Africa. They are
fairly intelligent, and wear the Arab costume. There
are also in this part large numbers of Mandingoes, a
Mohammedan race from the interior, who are superior
both in appearance and general capability.
Out at the mouth of the river we pass the Pioneer,
while she is engaged in picking up one of the mark
buoys we had lately put down. But she is soon up to

126 On a Surf-bound Coast.
us again, and passes us in fine style, with a great show
of pace.
" She's slipping through the water, isn't she ? " says
Mr. Shirley, as he watches her through his glasses.
" When I first went aboard of her, I used to lose my
balance every time she started. She is so small, and has
got such powerful engines, that she goes off with a jump
like a racehorse. After a time, when I heard she was
weighing anchor, I used to get near a handrail and stand
by till I heard the engine-room bell, and then I caught
hold of the railing. I never had any trouble after that."
We were soon out of sight of Bathurst, and then of the
coast line altogether. The wind has dropped, and the
afternoon is oppressively hot and gloomy, with a storm
threatening in th \ air. At five o'clock a dark bank of
clouds rises on our \ort bow and spreads rapidly over the
sky, obscuring the light with its dull leaden aspect. The
wind begins to whistle in the rigging, the loose corners
of the awning flap ominously, and then, without further
notice, a tornado sweeps over the sea, marking its course
by the rippling waves it raises over the previously smooth
expanse of water. There is just time to put the Thraeia
head on to the storm, when it bursts with such violence
that the engines have to be slowed down, and the awning
rapidly rolled up. Then the rain descends in torrents,
as it only can in the tropics, and it is soon accompanied
with vivid flashes of lightning and deafening peals of
thunder. For half an hour the storm lasts in full force,
and the Thraeia seems hardly to be moving against the
fierce wind. But by six o'clock it has ceased as rapidly
as it began, and we go down to dinner in a fresher and
cooler atmosphere than we have had since we first came
on the coast.
Mr. North, who has completed his work ashore at

Off Bulama. 127

Bathurst, and has now joined us again, relates some of
his experiences of the town.
" Did you hear those salutes being fired from the fort
this morning ? There were seven guns, I think. Well,
that was in honour of a native prince whose territory is
adjacent to Bathurst, and who had come to pay a formal
visit to the governor. I suppose his possessions are very
small, or else he finds some difficulty in collecting his
rents ; for, after he had been honoured in his character
of prince by a state reception from the governor, he ,
assumed that of the private citizen, and went round to
the different French and English factories, begging for
alms and gratefully receiving the smallest contributions
from half a dollar upwards.
" The prince and the pauper, eh ! " remarks Jenkins,
" rolled into one."
Wednesday, June 23rd. — This morning we are passing
off Bulama, but out of sight of land. The governor of
the Portuguese colony of Guinea resides here. Some
forty miles up the river is Bissao, to which a cable laid
by us is already running. Both places are very un
healthy, on account of the mangrove swamps which line
the banks of the river for many miles inland. There
was once an English settlement at Bulama, but the
mortality among the residents was so great that it was
very soon abandoned.
Thursday, June 24th. — Coming upon deck about seven
o'clock, I notice the fresh perfume which arises from a
pine-wood forest, and, looking out on the port side, I see
that we are close to land. The country is very pretty,
being formed of a succession of undulating hills, covered
with timber down to the sea shore. It is a pleasant

128 On a Surf bound Coast.
contrast to what we have seen of the West Coast of Africa
so far, as it has been, with a few solitary exceptions,
either entirely barren, or has had the scant vegetation it
possesses dried and burnt brown by the sun, in addition
to being uniformly flat for nearly the whole distance.
We are now entering a channel between the land I
have just noticed — which I learn is Factory Island, be
longing to the English — and another island called Tumbo
Island, on which stands the French settlement of Conakri.
The scenery grows very picturesque, the dark rocks,
covered with pine, rising abruptly from the water's edge,
and forming innumerable bays and inlets, the haunts of
the curlew and the heron. It is somewhere here that the
notorious pirate Eoberts is supposed to have stowed his
unlawful gains, and certainly no more romantic spot
could be chosen or described as the Treasure Island of
the lawless buccaneer. There is a small gunboat, by
name the Banger, flying the English ensign, and painted
white, as they all are down the coast, anchored off Factory
Island, opposite a small group of habitations, consisting
of a white house and a row of native thatched huts
ranged along the beach.
We let go anchor on the other side of the channel off
Tumbo Island. From our position there is only one
building — a low wooden shed — in sight on this island,
Conakri itself being invisible, as I am told it is round
the point, but we can just see the Pioneer, which is lying
off it. The view is very pretty here, the sun shining
through the lofty trees, and lighting up the luxuriant
tropical undergrowth beneath. The land, however, un
like Factory Island opposite, is quite flat.
After breakfast we observe that the Pioneer has weighed
anchor and is coming round the point in our direction in
order to get into position to land the shore end. She is

The "Pioneer" on a Rock. 129
now between the Thraeia and the shore, and as we are
watching her movements some one exclaims, " Why, she's
aground ! " And directly after up runs the signal of dis
tress — " Want immediate assistance." Our steam launch,
which fortunately has been lowered, and has already got
her steam up, is at once sent off, and at the same time
we see the English gunboat — which of course has also
noticed the signal — despatching her steam pinnace.
Meanwhile we weigh anchor, and feeling our way cau
tiously, we draw as close to the Pioneer as prudence will
allow, and let go anchor again. Then our steam launch
returns with instructions from Mr. White, who joined the
Pioneer when she left Bathurst. The launch runs out
a drumline from our stern, while the steam pinnace
of the gunboat brings one from the Pioneer. They meet
half way, and the two lines are bent together. To our
drumline we attach a powerful steel hawser, capable of
standing a strain of thirty tons, and then the Pioneer
heaves on to the drumlines, and begins to drag the
hawser towards her. As this hawser is a very great
weight, at intervals of every twenty or thirty yards we
attach one of the air balloons used in landing the shore
ends, aud in this manner the operation proceeds smoothly
and quickly, and all the inconveniences and obstacles
which might arrest it if it was allowed to sink to the
bottom are thus avoided.
There is a slight swell in the channel, and the Pioneer
seems to be bumping and jarring with unpleasant fre
quency. "I guess, sir," says the boatswain, who is standing
next to me and watching the proceedings, "they will
be glad when they get that line on b; iard. I don't like
the way she's knocking herself about now."
But by this time the end of the steel hawser has
K

130 On a Surf-bound Coast.
reached the Pioneer, and it is soon hauled on board and
made fast to the stern. Then the signal to commence
heaving on the line is given on the flags, and repeated by
the steam whistle, with the Morse code, to ensure it being
promptly understood. Our anchor is already up, and we
commence to steam slow ahead in an opposite direction
to which the Pioneer is pointing. The steel hawser grows
taut, and the Pioneers propeller is throwing up a white
mass of foaming water as her engines are put full speed
astern ; but the ship does not give way a single foot of
ground. Full speed ahead is rung in our engine-room;
the hawser tightens to such an extent that nearly the
whole of it is raised out of the water, while the ropes
which secure it begin to twist and groan alarmingly
under the tremendous strain, Mr. Thurston, who is on
the cbain-gratings superintending the business, has just
shouted to the cable hands around, "Stand away clear
there," in case anything should carry away, when the
pressure on the hawser is suddenly relaxed, and we see
the Pioneer at last dislodged and floating off into deeper
water. " Thought she would never get clear," I remark to the
boatswain. " Oh," he replies, " I knew when once we got the steel
line over there and made it fast we should get her off,
even if we pulled the bottom out of her."
When she is anchored again in plenty of water, Mr.
White and the others come over to lunch, and tell us
that she is making no water, and that the damage is not
so great as was at first supposed. She had a native pilot
on board, who said that the place where she struck was
the position in which the small mail steamer always
anchored. If so, it must have been singularly fortunate
always to have avoided this roek. There was no mention

The Shore End foul of Rocks. 131
made of it in the charts. We hear that the jarring on
board was so bad that it was difficult to keep one's feet.
All the boats had been lowered, and the testing-room had
been dismantled of its valuable instruments in case the
ship had to be abandoned. There were also some comic
figures on deck, which would have evoked much laughter
if things had not been looking so serious at the time.
One of the stewards appeared in his ulster under the
burning sun, with its ample pockets stuffed with what
he considered the most valuable of his possessions ; while
the butcher's mate, on learning the character of the mis
hap, came hurriedly on deck, and demanded to be taken
off in the first boat which should leave the ship.
Soon after five o'clock the Pioneer again approaches
the shore, and having got within a reasonable distance,
lets go anchor and begins landing the shore end. It is
apparently a difficult undertaking, for those of us not
engaged in the work find the Pioneer still in her anchorage
when we come up from dinner.
We sit on deck and watch the proceedings as well as we
can by means of the different lights. It is a dark, close
night, without a breath of wind, and sheet lightning
playing in the distance out at, sea. On shore we can see
the lamps of the cable hands moving to and fro, engaged
over their work, and at frequent intervals the bright yellow
light of the Morse signal lamp flashes out its messages
to the ship with great rapidity. The steam whistle occa
sionally breaks in for the same purpose, awakening all the
echoes of the peaceful islands, unaccustomed to be disturbed
at this hour of the night. We gather what is going on
by reading the messages sent on the Morse lamp to the
Pioneer; and it appears that the lines by which the cable
is being hauled ashore are continually getting foul of
projecting rocks, and give a great deal of trouble before

132 On a Surf-bound Coast.
they are set clear of them again. They are still at work
when we turn in shortly before midnight.
Friday, June 25th. — When I go on deck this morning,
I see that the Pioneer has gone, and learn that she did
not finish landing the shore end till two o'clock in the
morning. She was to lay four miles, buoy the end, and
go on to Sierra Leone. The Thraeia had first to send
ashore some cable for the landline, and then to add a
length to the shore end already laid, buoy it, and follow
the Pioneer.
Mr. Shirley and I spend this morning in the testing-
room, working up the electrical log. It is not always
easy to recall things that have occurred, if only two or
three days back, and we experience this difficulty in
trying to fix a date to a certain incident.
" Let me see," said Mr. Shirley with great deliberation,
and resting his chin meditatively on one hand as he leans
upon the desk, " on Tuesday what did I do ? Tuesday
was the day we left Bathurst. In the morning I have
a vague recollection of having written a letter, and in the
afternoon" — pause for a final effort of memory — "I
have a still more hazy reminiscence of having gone to
sleep." And agreeing that this satisfactorily disposed of
Tuesday, we proceed to review the following days with
equal minuteness of detail.
The landlines are all ashore by three o'clock, and by
six o'clock we have weighed anchor and set on for the end
of the cable buoyed by the Pioneer.
At dinner the conversation turns on a subject which
always commands an Englishman's attention, namely on
food ; on the number of meals a day, and the sort best
suited for tropical climates. Some maintain that two
meals a day are quite sufficient — breakfast at eleven

The Great Meal Question. 133
o'clock, and dinner at six ; and, of course, a cup of tea or
coffee on rising. This arrangement is almost universal
with Englishmen and most Europeans living on the coast,
and is found to be the most beneficial. It does not, how
ever, commend itself on board ship, as we proved by the
most direct method of testing it ourselves. The first
morning that we tried it every one took their early cup of
coffee and slice of bread and butter as usual. But when
nine o'clock came, and it was already half-an-hour past
the ordinary breakfast hour, habit reasserted itself, and
all were seized with pangs of hunger. These could only
be assuaged by ordering more coffee and bread and butter,
a plan which was very generally resorted to. When
eleven o'clock came, and a tempting breakfast was laid in
the saloon, no one had sufficient appetite left to attack it.
At afternoon tea there was another run on the bread and
butter, with a corresponding fall in the amount consumed
at dinner. So, altogether, this experiment was not a suc
cess ; the stewards especially complaining, and saying,
that so far from having one meal less to serve a day, they
had now to prepare three breakfasts, and at least two
afternoon teas.
Consequently, the old hours of breakfast at half-past
eight, lunch at one, and dinner at six, were adhered to;
and the two-meal-a-day advocates squared matters by
making enormous breakfasts, and then cutting lunch
altogether. The chief ship-engineer, who was remarkable
for a hearty appetite, surprised every one very much by
following this example and not appearing at lunch.
Jenkins, prompted by a natural curiosity, and not re
strained by any feeling of false delicacy, asked him the
reason of the change ; and he replied, " Oh ! I don't
believe in three meals a day in these hot climates."
However, it transpired the following day that he had only

134 On a Surf-bound Coast.
absented himself from the luncheon table in the saloon;
in order to be present at the midday dinner in the
engineers' mess-room ; so that instead of only two meals a
day, breakfast and dinner, he had one breakfast and two
dinners. But by far the most vexed question, and the hardest to
solve, is that of what to drink. Mr. Shirley is almost
reduced to despair on this subject, having tried — as well
as every kind of simple drink — all the combinations which
could be suggested or conceived, without obtaining satis
faction. " It is a tremendous problem," he says wearily,
when asked by the steward for his orders this evening;
"and I don't see any way of getting it satisfactorily
settled." " Have you tried draught beer ? " says Jenkins.
" Yes ; it's too heavy."
"Bottled beer?"
" Bottled beer sends me to sleep."
" Claret, burgundy, hock ? "
" Yes ; I have tried them all ; but I soon get tired of
them." "Have you tried them with lemonade or soda ? "
" Yes ; lemonade is too sweet ; and I do not like soda-
water with any of those wines."
" How about spirits ? "
" They are too heating."
" Well, my advice is, try soda-water alone for about a
week, and then see if you don't return to any of the ordi
nary drinks with a regenerated palate."
We reach the buoy soon after seven o'clock, and finish
the splice by eleven. It is a stormy night, with a heavy
and persistent downpour of rain, and it is decided to lie
by till daybreak.

( 135 )

CHAPTEE IX.
Sierra Leone — View on approaching — Native washerwomen — Visit to
shore — Grass-grown streets — A naval captain to dinner — His
account of the coast — An African mailship — A picturesque cable
hut — Paying out towards Conakri.
Saturday, June 26th. — We weigh anchor at 7 a.m.,
and commence paying out. The rain is still descending
in torrents, and the atmosphere is unusually close and
oppressive. After we have run out ten miles of cable, we
buoy, and set on for Sierra Leone.
At 3.30 p.m. " Lion Mountain " (Sierra Leone) comes
into sight. It is a fine eminence, but, like many other
mountains which have been named after the noblest of
quadrupeds, might just as well have been called " Ehi
noceros Mountain," or " Elephant Mountain," as far as any
resemblance to the original animal is concerned. Its
sides look bare after the thickly wooded hills of Conakri,
and have the appearance of having been stripped, for the
most part, of their timber. If this is the case, it was
probably done with a view to make the climate drier,
though it is very doubtful that any improvement in this
respect would have been brought about by it. The
mountain and the town are on the south bank of the
river Sierra Leone. On the north bank is a wide expanse
of low marshy country and mangrove swamps, known as

136 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Bullom Land, with the familiar African fever-breeding
mist hanging perpetually over it.
Soon, Freetown itself comes into view, lying at the foot
of the mountain near the mouth of the river. The town
has a fine appearance from the sea, several large white
houses rising above the others and showing to advantage
against the dark background of wood immediately above.
Higher up the river, on the same side, is a fine rectangular
building, which I concluded at first to be the governor's
house, but which I afterwards learnt to be a missionary
station called Fourah Bay College.
As we reach the entrance to the river we have to go a
wide detour southwards, towards a point with a lighthouse
on it, in order to avoid a sandbank. Two pilots in small
sailing boats under full sail are racing to get our patronage.
But one is soon left behind, and goes about in despair,
while the other, in his haste to secure his advantage,
comes up on the port side before the engines have been
stopped ; and as he stands aft, ready to jump on to the
companion, he receives a full discharge of water from the
condenser, which shoots him with some violence on to
the gunwale of his boat, and nearly sends him out of it
altogether. He seems very much taken aback by this
unexpected incident, and the engines being now rung off,
he clambers up the gangway rather unsteadily, and dis
plays to view a dilapidated old figure, with a straw hat
knocked in on one side, and an old black cloth suit
drenched through by his late misadventure. A smile of
triumph, however, lightens up his countenance, as he feels
that he has won the race, and sees his rival sailing dis
appointedly away. After giving himself a shake he
toddles forward and mounts the bridge.
We steam up the river close to the south bank. The
atmosphere, although the sky is cloudy, is exceedingly

View on approaching. 1 37
clear. I borrow a powerful telescope from the chart-
room, and settling myself comfortably in an easy chair on
quarter-deck, I rest it on the bulwarks, and enjoy through
it a moving panorama of unusual beauty, varied by occa
sional glimpses with the naked eye of the formation of
the country as a whole. The land is at first flat for some
little distance in, the foot of the mountain not extending
so near to the river here as farther up at the town itself.
This level tract is thickly wooded with palms and every
variety of tropical tree down to the water's edge. Neatly
made native houses, with their roofs of dark brown wood,
peep out here and. there, while occasionally, almost entirely
hidden by the dense foliage around, a view is caught of
some well-made European villa, with its white walls and
large green piazzas. Sometimes a track of fresh green
turf, which has been cleared of trees, comes into sight,
gaily dressed natives passing over it ; sometimes a row of
huts, the owners of which are seated outside enjoying the
evening breeze. All the time, the rich deep notes of
the palm birds calling to each other from the midst of the
dense foliage, come soft and clear across the tranquil
waters of the river.
As we near the town, several fine warehouses appear at
the water's edge, and at the top of a gently sloping road,
covered with green grass, leading from the river wall, is a
building which I take to be a church, but which I am
afterwards told is the cathedral. High up on the slope
on which the town is built lies the governor's house,
almost hidden by trees ; immediately above, on a large
open space which seems to have been cleared of timber,
stands the hospital, which here, as in almost every town
of Western Africa, is the most prominent and well-built
structure visible. Close by the hospital is another large
block of buildings, which I hear are barracks. Above

138 On a Surf-bound Coast.
these the hill begins to rise more rapidly, and is densely-
covered with trees. One or two white villas stand out
clearly against their dark surroundings, and at the summit
of this hill, in a cleared space, is a block of low buildings,
which is said to be the quarters of one of the West India-
regiments. We are now nearly up to the town, and lying off it we
find the Pioneer and two English gunboats, whose names
we make out to be the Swift and the Wideawake. As we
glide slowly in astern of these, I again direct the telescope
on the town, and see a lady and gentleman, evidently
Europeans and probably English, appear at the top of the
green road immediately beneath the cathedral, and come
walking down towards the river wall. The gentleman
wears a sun helmet and a dark suit, but with a white
waistcoat, and has the air of an English officer. The lady
is dressed entirely in black. They both carry umbrellas
opened out above them, although there is no rain, and
the sun is completely obscured by clouds. They make
their way to a, seat on the sea wall, and sit down and look
in our direction. It is exactly half-past five by the
cathedral clock, and the anchor chain has just this minute
run out from the bows, while we are swinging gently to it
in the smooth waters of the river. The two figures on
the seat possess a strange fascination for me, and I con
tinue to watch their movements through the telescope.
They are sitting a little apart from each other, and do
not appear to be carrying on any continuous conversation.
Speculations arise in my mind as to the relation which
they bear to each other. Are they man and wife— hardly
lovers, one would think ; and for whom is she in mourning?
I wonder if they often come down to that seat, and if so,
for what reason. The river wall is evidently not a fashion
able promenade — at any rate at this time of the day — for

Seen through a Telescope. 139
there is not a single other person visible, either there or
on the green road above. Perhaps they go there to get
a sea breeze in the cool of the afternoon. Perhaps they
are drawn thither irresistibly by that attraction that the
sea always possesses for exiles in a foreign land, being
the great highway homewards and full of early home
associations. She is thinking, perhaps, of the day when
she also first arrived here and anchored in the harbour,
thinking of all that she has suffered since — her deep
mourning points to the loss of some near relative — and
wondering if the time will ever pass before she is once
more out here on the river on board ship and homeward
bound. These two silent, motionless figures seem to touch
a peculiar chord of pathos in me, which is intensified by
the heavy, melancholy inspiring atmosphere, the deserted
appearance of the town, the grass-grown road, and the
gathering shades of night. They are still just visible in
the coming gloom, when our electric light shines brightly
forth, throwing all around into darkness ; and then, dis
missing these sombre thoughts, I reluctantly close the
telescope and restore it to its place.
On the quarter-deck I find an officer from the Swift, come
to ask if we have seen anything of the Oavalier, which
they are expecting at Sierra Leone to relieve them. We
are unable to give him any news about her. As soon as
he leaves the ship, two more boats come racing up to the
gangway, with a load of half a dozen native women
in each. On reaching it they struggle and push each
other back in order to get on deck the first. I do not
understand at once what all this haste is about ; but I am
not long left in ignorance. The first one who has gained
the deck begins, to the officer on watch —
" Good evening, sar. Any washing, sar ? My name is
Mary Brown. I am well known here. I will wash your

140 On a Surf-bound Coast.
things, and bring them back as soon as you like, sar. Here
are my testimonials," handing him a bundle of greasy
papers. The others, as they come up, go through much the same
form of address, and select different victims on whom to
thrust their papers. The more showy ones are dressed like
servant girls in England might have been dressed some
twenty or thirty years ago, and specimens of which may
be seen in old illustrated papers of that date. They wear
highly starched print calico dresses, with enormous width
of skirt, and covering as much ground as those in the
most flourishing of crinoline days. A straw hat of extra
ordinary size and shape, bedecked with flowers of the
brightest hues, completes the costume. The less ambitious
ones wear the long flowing cotton garment in native
fashion, with a coloured handkerchief tied on their heads.
With regard to their features, little can be said in favour
of them. A negress of the handsomest type is not a style
of beauty that most Europeans have an intuitive admira
tion for ; but the negresses of Sierra Leone seem to be
exceptionally irregular in feature, harsh in voice, and
ungainly in carriage. Contact with civilisation has not
done much in this town to ameliorate the appearance or
behaviour of the native African.
Their testimonials are curious documents, written on
different sized scraps of paper, and become almost illegible
through dirt. One states that Emma Smith has washed
the linen of Mr. Midshipman Kingsley, of her Majesty's
gunboat Spick and Span, to his entire satisfaction.
Another announces that Mr. Jackson, purser, in the employ
of the British aud African Steamship Company, can vouch
for Eebecca Stephens's professional excellence and untar
nished probity, having returned the three weeks' ship's
washing entrusted to her without one missing article, and

An Embarrassing Position. 141
got up in a style which rivalled anything he had expe
rienced in the largest and best-known ports of the world.
But the person they are especially anxious to interview
is the steward ; and when they apply to the officer to ask
where he is to be found, he maliciously points out to
them the doctor. The latter is at once surrounded by
the whole crowd of them, clamouring loudly for his
custom, and waving their testimonials frantically before
his face. He is much taken aback by their behaviour,
and is quite at a loss to account for the sudden rush
made to obtain his washing, thinking, reasonably enough,
that they had no cause to expect it to be larger than any
other private individual's on board. Eealising the diffi
culties which would accompany an invidious selection
from among so many, he descends to a slight deviation
from the exact truth, and, in a mild and deprecatory tone
begins —
" My good women, I have nothing for you." But the
chorus of demands is only redoubled at this preposterously
mendacious statement, and he has nothing left but to
back quietly down the companion into the saloon, giving
his withdrawal as little as possible the appearance of an
ignominious retreat. The dinner-bell fortunately relieves
the rest of us from the importunity of these ladies, not,
however, before one or two of them had been promised
some custom, which they declared their intention of
staying on board till they obtained.
When we come up from dinner it is quite dark, and
the lights of the town look very pretty, ascending one
after the other the hill on which the town is built.
" Now, that is not unlike Bath," remarks the doctor,
who is well acquainted with that city, and who was only
this morning talking to me about it, "as it is presented
to you when passing through on the railway at night.

142 On a Surf-bound Coast.
That is Weston, lying on the left ; Lansdowne, you know,
in the centre, mounting high up on the hill ; and the low
track of lights running out some distance to the right is
Grosvenor, where I lived for many years."
At eight o'clock a message arrives from Mr. White,
who left Conakri on the Pioneer, and is still on board of
her, that he is coming over in half an hour. " I say,"
exclaims Mr. Thurston to the captain, " we had better
look sharp over to the Pioneer, and report ourselves to
the commodore, before it is too late."
" That's very good," remarks Mr. Shirley, as they go
off to order the gig ; " only just to think about it, after
they have been anchored here three hours."
They are soon off, and in a short time return with Mr.
White and a young lieutenant from one of the gunboats,
who has been dining on board the Pioneer. He is a typical
young English naval officer, wearing a short dress jacket,
white waistcoat, and unexceptionable patent leather boots.
His face is clean shaven, he is good looking, and with a
more than ordinary amount of by no'means offensive self-
conceit. Walking with an easy air along the deck, as if he
were admiral of the fleet paying a visit to one of his own
squadron, he raises his cap after the latest mode to those
to whom he is introduced, and throwing himself noncha
lantly — when so invited — into a lounge chair, takes the
proffered cigar and brandy and soda in as matter-of-fact
a manner as if he lived on nothing else. He has the
clear though somewhat affected enunciation now so much
in vogue among the younger generation, and begins and
ends all his remarks, anecdotes, and descriptions with the
inevitable "don't you know," which is also a constant
characteristic of their conversation. He tells us he has
been two years on this coast, but expects to be relieved
by the Cavalier coming out from home.

A Visit Ashore. 143
Sunday, June 21th. — When I go on deck before break
fast, I find it a dull, misty morning, inclined to rain.
Another gunboat is in sight at the entrance of the river,
and is at first taken for the long-expected Cavalier, but,
on coming nearer, turns out to be the Banger, which we
had left at Conakri. Flag signals are exchanged with
great rapidity between her and the commodore ship the
Swift, and then she anchors away a little astern of us.
After breakfast the doctor, with his orthodox views,
gets together as many of the staff as are at leisure, or
whom he can persuade, and goes off in the captain's gig
for service on shore. I am engaged in the testing-room
till noon, when I start for shore in the steam launch in
order to pay a visit to the telegraph station, the house
for which I hear Mr. North has already selected, and put
the superintendent, Mr. Hutchins, and one operator, Mr.
Gregson, in possession. The threatening clouds have at
length joined issue, and are descending in a perfect deluge
of rain, against which the umbrella and macintosh with
which I have provided myself are of little or no service.
I land at a well-made jetty of red sandstone in about
the centre of the river frontage. There are only a few
listless natives here, Sunday accounting, I conclude, for
its deserted appearance. I walk up a grass-grown path
to some equally grass-grown and moss-covered stone steps
leading on to a wide road, running parallel to the river,
and which is practically a field with a narrow, red sand
stone track along the middle of it. There is hardly a
person visible out of doors, and the houses, which looked
so trim and picturesque through the telescope from on
board, now appear to be in the last stage of ruin and
decay. I am almost sorry to have come ashore and dis
pelled the favourable impression I had conceived of the
town from its appearance as seen from the river. What

1 44 ' On a Surf bound Coast.
pleasant pictures one would carry away of many a foreign
port, if one was content with the view to be obtained
of it on board. It is a veritable example of the close
relationship that is said to exist between distance and
enchantment. The downpour has somewhat abated, and turning to the
left for the station, as I have been directed to do, I walk
along a narrow footpath in the grass still glistening with the
rain. Passing one or two grass-grown roads on the right,
which run up to the centre of the town, I arrive at the
house chosen for the station, with its name already em
blazoned on a board in front of it. The side of it facing
the road is in better repair than any house I have seen
so far, and there is also a very spacious balcony running
round on a level with the first floor. The ground floor
rooms are open but deserted, so I ascend the staircase
to the first floor. Here I find a very good-sized room
facing on to the road, and in it Mr. Hutchins entertaining
the doctor and his detachment, who by this time have
come out of church, and administering to their temporal
wants. I am welcomed and similarly provided for by
the generous host, who then says —
" Well, doctor, what did you think of the church ? "
" Oh, it's not a bad building, though it isn't a church,
as you call it, but the cathedral. The seats were low
and comfortable, and there was a good current of air pass
ing through from the folding windows which are kept,
fastened back. There were only three white people,
present besides ourselves — two men, pale and worn-look
ing, and one lady, who appeared so thin and delicate that
she ought never to have been there at all. All the rest,
including the parson— I don't know if he was the bishop
— were blacks. Some of the men belonging to the richer
class of .these had the air of being very much afflicted

Native Men using Fans. 145
by the heat, and used the fans, provided with which they
had come to church, as energetically and unceasingly as
any of our countrywomen at a crowded theatre or concert-
room at home. None of us, at any rate, seemed to feel
the heat half so much as these sun-reared and naturally
sun-proof Africans."
The back of the house looks on to the river, from the
edge of which it is only thirty or forty yards distant.
From the balcony a very fine view is obtained of it, and
also of both its banks lower down at the entrance. I go
off in time for lunch, passing by a mail steamer which
has just anchored. She is from Liverpool, and we get our
first batch of home letters and papers.
In the afternoon the rain has passed away, and there
is a clear bright sunshine. The steam launch has gone
off, towing a lighter loaded with cable. This cable is to
be laid between the telegraph station and the hut where
the main cable will be landed. The site of the hut is
chosen at the distance of one and a half or two miles below
the town, in order to be well away from the anchorage of
the shipping. Not being engaged in this work, I get my
easy chair and the telescope and inspect the town, showing
up clearly in the bright atmosphere, and watch the launch
going in and out of the picturesque creeks along the south
bank of the river, while the cable is being paid out of the
lighter behind her.
Late in the afternoon the doctor, who has stayed on
shore all day, at length returns. He is very enthusiastic
about the place, and is loud in his praises of it.
" I have had a most enjoyable afternoon," he begins.
" You see that little white house there, peeping out among
the trees more than half way up the hill ? Well, I have
walked as far as that. It is lovely scenery, thickly wooded,
and birds and butterflies of every description flying around.
L

146 On a Surf-bound Coast.
I saw some of your birds too," referring to the cageful I
procured at Bathurst. " I think Sierra Leone a charming
place, and I should like to live here."
"What! altogether, doctor?"
" Well, say for a year," he replies, somewhat abating
his enthusiasm on reflection.
The captain of the gunboat Swift is expected to dinner
this evening, and arrives in fashionable time— three quar
ters of an hour late. He is a short, middle-aged man,
with a well-trimmed beard, and hair just turning gray.
His stout figure is not seen to the best advantage in his
short dress jacket. He sits on Mr. White's right, and
carries on the conversation with an easy well-bred air. He
appears, however, rather fond of having all the talk to
himself, a habit no doubt acquired by the respect and
attention accorded to his remarks by his subordinate
officers on board his own ship. A.t the conclusion of an
anecdote related by himself, he would look you full in
the face without making any remark, but with an expres
sion of countenance as if it was all he could do to keep
himself from screaming with laughter at the excellence
of the story, and as if he expected that the least you can
do is to be hopelessly convulsed at it yourself. On the
other hand, when somebody else ventures to tell a story,
he observes throughout a stolid immobility of counte
nance, and at the conclusion — sometimes indeed before —
he turns round and addresses a remark on a totally dif
ferent topic to his neighbour on the other side, as if it
were not to be expected that he would take much interest
iu any tale of yours. Then the conversation turns on the
character of the coast farther south, and he begins —
"We are very glad, I can tell you, when we get to
Sierra Leone. There is no port between here, eight de
grees north of the equator, and St. Paul de Loanda, eight

The Captain of H.M.S. "Swift. 147
degrees south of it. Off all the towns on the Gold Coast
we have to anchor in open roadsteads, to be rocked day
after day by those unceasing rollers. Sierra Leone may
have got a bad name among landsmen, but it is a perfect
haven to us poor mariners, after tossing for weeks and
months at the other stations farther south. The men get no
liberty between here and St. Paul de Loanda. Their only
amusement on board — and I give them plenty of it — is
washing. The British tar is quite content when he is at
work on that. Then our travelling is so slow. We rarely
steam above six knots an hour, as we keep our consump
tion of coal down to six tons a day for economy's sake.
The Government keeps an awfully strict watch upon our
expenditure, and indeed, on every other matter. Every
gun on board has a minute log kept about it, when and
how often it is used, and how many rounds of shot have
been fired from it. This constant scrutiny from home is
the reason why I am not so grateful to you for bringing
the cable out here as no doubt you think I ought to be.
It means for us an uninterrupted dispatch of orders from
head-quarters, instead of going some three or four months,
as used to be the case, without hearing a word. One felt
much more independent then, I can assure you.
" What sort of a place is Accra, did you say ? Well, it's
a very awkward place to land at on account of the surf.
One has always to go prepared for a ducking in case of
a mishap at the beach. When I am going ashore there
to make a call on the governor, or to be present at some
ceremony in full uniform, I carry my sword and best
clothes in a bundle and put on an old suit. When I get
near to the beach, I throw my things to a native on the
shore, and then it doesn't matter if I do get a ducking.
All I have to do is to go and change at the nearest house.
But these accidents are sometimes attended with fatal

148 On a Surf-bound Coast.
consequences. Three out of a European family of four
were drowned landing a short time ago, while the chief
justice of the Gold Coast also fell a victim to it, though
there was some suspicion of foul play there.
" One good thing about this coast is that there are not
many representatives of foreign navies here, and con
sequently no laborious naval etiquette for us to observe.
I was off Constantinople during the Turco-Kussian war,
and it was a regular trial. After coming into the harbour
crowded with ships of every nationality, when the lengthy
ceremonial of dipping to each of them had been gone
through, one had to go and pay calls on all the different
flags. Well, calls, as you may be aware, mean drinks,
and an uninterrupted course of drinks without solids in
between becomes monotonous, if not positively irksome.
So I used to take a tin of biscuits with me in my boat
and start my rounds. My first visit might be to an Italian
man-of-war, and they perhaps would give me wine ; then
to a Frenchman, and I might have a liqueur ; brandy with
a Eussian, and so on to each different flag, fortifying
myself between each ship with my supply of biscuits, and
ending up an arduous afternoon with a welcome cup of
coffee with the Turk. They are not bad fellows, those
Turks. I was very much struck by the fine appearance
of their army on shore."
Monday, June 28th. — The rain is pouring down in tor
rents, almost completely obscuring the town from our
view. The three gunboats are decked with flags in honour,
I am told on inquiry, of Coronation Day. They are
hanging down hopelessly, without a single movement of
their folds, as if they had given up in despair the attempt
to look gay in weather like this.
A homeward bound mail comes in during the mornino-,

A West African Mail Ship. 149
and I go over with the second officer to take her a final
batch of letters. When we get on board we find her very
dirtyandwretched-lookingintherain. Nowhite passengers
or crew are visible, except one officer at the gangway, and
another aft superintending three Kroomen, who are taking
cargo from a lighter lying alongside of the ship. One
man is at the winch, another is leaning over the bulwarks
giving orders when to heave or let go by means of a
boatswain's whistle, while the third is engaged in receiving
and unhooking the cases as they come on deck. Every
thing is done in order and with great rapidity, the Kroo
men being particularly intelligent at this work, and by
some captains are even preferred to Englishmen.
When we have consigned our letters to the purser, the
second officer being desirous to buy a parrot, we make
our way to the fore part of the ship. Passing rows of
huge palm oil casks stowed on the deck aud several
wretched negro deck-passengers leaning against them, we
reach the forecastle. Here there are a few English sailors,
of the abject class one sees mostly on this coast, dressed
in every variety of old flannel shirts and trousers. They
don't appear to have much to do, but, leaving all the
work to the Kroomen, they are sitting about on cases
smoking their pipes, or tending the live stock, which con
sists principally of parrots and monkeys from the rivers
and the Gold Coast.
On hearing what we want, one of them brings out,
apparently irom his cabin, a roughly made wooden cage
full of parrots. It is merely a case with wooden strips
over the top and turned over on one side. He tells us
there are sixty birds in it. They are so tightly packed
that they cannot move without walking over each other.
The bottom of their cage is covered with the food, which
is boiled maize. They do not give out a single sound,

150 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and are looking unutterably dull and stupid. My companion
selects a couple of them, while another sailor is asking me
if I should like to do any business in the way of a young
tiger or a polecat, both of which they have on board.
Not desiring to possess either of these animals, we
return towards the gangway, where one of the ship's
officers asks us into his cabin and supplies us with refresh
ments. He says they have come from the rivers in the
Bight of Benin, and that they had a bad time of it there
with regard to fever, two of the officers and the chief
steward being down with it at the same time. Talking
of curios, he cautions us against buying any at Sierra
Leone, saying that nearly all those which are sold here
are manufactured at Birmingham. On an outward voyage,
when on one occasion he was shifting some cargo, a case
was dropped and burst, and out tumbled mats, calabashes,
and fancy leather-work in imitation of the Arabs', which
they sell here at a big price as native work. We do not
stay long, as the close damp heat in a small cabin soon
gets beyond endurance, and thanking the officer for his
hospitable reception of us, we take our leave and reach
the Thraeia in time for lunch.
We are to land the shore end this afternoon, so shortly
after lunch we weigh anchor and drop down to where the
hut has been erected. We find it situated in a very pretty
spot in the recess of a picturesque creek. Dark rocks
rise out at the water's edge and meet the rich green
tropical growth on the bank, banana and plantain trees
with their long leaflike branches, and palm trees with
their graceful fronds towering above them all. The hut
itself, although only a few yards from the bank, is almost
completely hidden by the foliage. As there is plenty of
water here, we anchor quite close to the shore, and the
operations of landing the shore end commences. The

The Value of Ice. 151
spider sheaves are soon fixed upon the river bank, the
line is passed through them and the cable is hauled out
from the ship, floated as it goes by the indiarubber
balloons. By half-past five the cable is landed, and the
steam launch, when she has picked up the balloons and
brought back a boat load of men from the shore, is hauled
up on board, and then we weigh anchor and begin paying
out towards Conakri.
At dinner I hear our supply of ice has at length run
out. It is a great loss in many ways, especially, of course,
in drinks. The water on the table seems positively warm
after being accustomed to it iced. This article is also
very useful in making joints. In hot climates there is
a great difficulty in getting the gutta percha to cool
sufficiently for the splicing to be commenced. With ice
it is possible to do in ten minutes what would otherwise
occupy three-quarters of an hour. We still have some
of our supply of frozen English meat left, and very good
it is. This evening we are dining off English lamb; which
has quite as good a flavour as if it had only recently been
killed, although we have been more than five weeks out
from home. But there are only one or two live sheep
left, and no bullocks.

152 On a Surf bound Coast.

CHAPTEE X.
An African sunrise— The cable fouled by the propeller — Slipping the
final bight of the northern cables — Ashore at Conakri — Ascend
ing a cocoanut tree — A thunderstorm and an unexpected explo
sion — The doctor's patients — West African fruit — Jenkins's pets.
Tuesday, June 29th. — I am on watch this morning in the
testing-room from 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. We are gliding easily
along at the rate of six or seven knots an hour, the ship
swaying gently from one side to the other. Settling my
self on a stool near the folding doors, now open and
fastened back, I can command a full view of the scale on
which the spot of light from the galvanometer is thrown.
Outside the testing-room there is no sound but the dis
tant murmur of the paying-out machinery. The fore
part of the ship is totally deserted, except by the officer
on watch on the bridge and the quarter-master at the
wheel. Beyond the bulwarks on the starboard side there
is an impenetrable bank of darkness. But shortly after
five o'clock this sombre background begins to get less
dense, and gradually to pass through the varying shades
of dark gray, gray, and then dull white, till it merges
into the faint blue which precedes the rising sun. We
are coasting along within sight of the shore, and soon the
yellow beams of the sun display in the distant horizon a
lofty range of hills. Hanging over the flat country
between these hills and the sea, are two distinct rolls

Nearing Conakri. 153
of the familiar African mist. The effect produced is a
kind of mirage, which makes a dark line of trees near the
shore appear to be growing straight up out of the sea.
As the sun rises, the golden light above the hills — tinged
higher up with a gentle shade of pink — grows brighter,
throwing their dark outline into bold relief. And then,
when it is nearly six o'clock, the sun itself shoots forth,
casting a brilliant yellow light across the sea and gilding
with its tints the spars and ropes, while the light from the
testing lamp, which a short time ago was shining brightly,
pales before its rays, till the spot becomes almost invisible.
I notice that the lower bank of mist clings obstinately to
the ground, and does not thin appreciably till many hours
later into the day.
The cable is running out of the fore tank in front of the
bridge, over which, and on the top of a small awning deck
by the funnel, it finds its way along a trough to the pay
ing out gear aft. Its course is marked the whole way by
the whitewash splashes on each side, in which, as was
explained, the cable is immersed to prevent the different
coils and flakes sticking to each other. During paying
out we take the precaution of putting on our oldest clothes,
as it is almost impossible to avoid getting sprinkled with
it when on deck, and those who are continually passing to
and fro near the route of the cable, quickly get covered
from head to foot and look as if they had been out in a
snowstorm. We are now approaching the buoy attached to the end
of the cable which we laid on our way from Conakri to
Sierra Leone, This buoy is about fourteen miles distant
from the former place. The engines have been slowed
down, and we are proceeding cautiously as we happen to
be nearing a joint between two different types in the
cable we are laying. It is always advisable to let these

154 On a Surf-bound Coast.
joints run out more slowly, as, being thicker than the rest
of the cable, they are not so pliable, and on that account
are more likely to get foul of any obstacle that may appear.
But we are not going slow enough for Jimmy Wood,
the cable foreman's mate, who is watching the cable run
ning out of the tank and is getting anxious lest the joint
should pass out too quickly. So he trots by the testing-
room door, shouting out to the engineer on watch at the
stern of the ship. " You're going too fast, sir ! Go easy,
go easy ! " And his little round figure disappears in the
alley way leading aft, to make sure of his information
being duly received and understood.
Soon after, the engines are stopped, there is a short pause,
and then they start again. At the same moment I see
the spot of light fly off the scale, there is a chorus of
" Stop her ! " to the captain on the bridge, and Mr. Shirley
comes running into the testing-room to inquire if any fault
has been indicated by the galvanometer. I tell him that
the light went off the scale ; and he replies, " Well, there
is plenty to account for that occurrence, as the cable has
just got foul of the propeller."
By testing we find that the cable has either been severed
altogether, or is laid bare to the core ; and then, as there
is nothing more to do in the testing-room, I go aft to
inspect the nature of the accident. The captain was at
the time navigating the ship, and was trying to get up to
the buoy. When the ship stopped, the cable was washed
underneath the propeller, and the engineer on the watch
at once passed the word along to the captain not on any
account to move the engines. The last man on the line
either mistook the message or was late in delivering it,
for directly afterwards "slow-a-head" was rung in the
engine-room and the cable was immediately caught in
the propeller.

A Prompt Action. 155
A boat is at once lowered, into which jumps Mr. White,
taking with him several cable hands. They row round to
the stern, bend a line on to the cable, and then half a turn
in the reverse direction to which it last moved is given to
the propeller to see if that would set it free. But it is
firmly jammed, and there is great difficulty in judging
how far it is entangled, as it is invisible from the surface,
and the number of turns taken by the propeller after foul
ing is uncertain. In this dilemma, Mr. White, without
saying a word, quietly lays aside his helmet and his coat
and solves the problem by plunging into the water, and,
heedless of the probable approach of sharks now the ship
is motionless, dives right down to the propeller and makes
a rapid survey of it. When he comes up he merely says,
as he is getting into the boat again, " 'fell them in the
engine-room to give her three half turns more in the same
direction." This is immediately done, the line is hauled
on to, and the cable comes away free but dreadfully cut
and twisted.
In so speedy a fashion is rectified an accident which,
but for Mr. White's prompt action, would probably have
delayed the ship many hours and given us a great deal of
work and trouble. As it is, the cable is hauled in till past
the damaged part, cut, and still found long enough to splice
to the buoyed end to which we have run, and which shortly
afterwards is got on board. The splice is finished by noon,
and the final bight of all the northern cables which we came
out to lay is slipped amidst enthusiastic cheers. We then
set on for Conakri, and anchor off it soon after lunch.
At three o'clock Mr. Shirley and I go ashore in the
surf-boat, taking with us some cable hands, to lay the
underground cable from the shore to the hut. We also
wish to make tests on the newly laid section and converse
through it with Sierra Leone. The Krooboy boatswain

156 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and four of his men, whom we took on at Bathurst, are
pulling the boat, and have got a little more familiar with
their oars by this time. On the beach we are met by
Jenkins, who was left here before we went to Sierra
Leone to superintend the digging of the trench for the
underground line. With him is the superintendent of
the station, M. Epailly, a Frenchman. Conakri being a
French possession, the other two clerks are also French
men. The usual groups of curious natives are gathered
at the place where we land. We walk along by the
opened trench through a wood towards the hut. The
trench is completed to the depth of about three feet and
_is ready for the cable. The object of burying the land-
line to this extent is to prevent the sun getting to it and
spoiling the gutta percha, which happens very rapidly
when it is exposed.
We are passing through the forest of lofty trees which
looked so picturesque from the ship, but which, owing to
the absence of undergrowth, is not, like a good many other
things, so pretty when seen close to. Jenkins warns us to
keep to the path and not get in the long grass, as there is
a small snake on the island that is particularly venomous,
and whose bite is nearly always immediately fatal. On our
way to the hut we pass a building in course of erection on
a patch of ground cleared of trees, which is to be the tele
graph station. It is being built partly of red sandstone
and partly of brick, and is surrounded by an enclosure with
high wooden palings. Within this enclosure is also a small
wooden shanty, in which the three clerks are temporarily
installed until the station is completed. A little further
on we reach the hut, which is very prettily situated on the
beach only a few yards from the water, with the forest for
a background and a huge tree in front which intercepts
to a great extent the fierce rays of the sun.

The Cable Hut at Conakri. 157
The hut itself is a trim-louking structure, 12 ft. by 12 ft.,
made after the same pattern as the rest, wood inside and
covered outside with corrugated iron, between which and
the wood there is a layer of felt to keep out the heat. The
roof slopes upwards to a hole about a foot square, over which
there is another small roof supported on four iron bars,
so that the air of the hut passes out directly into the free
atmosphere. It is built on a concreted basement and
raised on stone supports about three feet clear of the
ground in order to keep it as dry as possible. Three stone
steps lead up to the door. Inside there is a table devoted
solely to testing instruments, a second table for writing
and general purposes, and a special galvanometer stand
which goes right through the floor to the basement
beneath, in order to prevent the galvanometer being in
fluenced by the movement of the hut floor. Here we find
the two other clerks, M. Noirtier and M. Dessouls.
We make a test on the landline already laid, and then
go back to superintend a joint in the second landline.
The spot is just at the entrance of the wood, about forty
yards from where the cable is landed. The jointer's tent
— for the purpose of keeping the sun's rays off the gutta
percha core— is soon erected, and the jointer sets to work
and finishes his part of the business. Then the cable
hands twist the hemp cords and sheathing wires over the
core again, lapping them round with fresh wire to make
it quite secure. At these operations a crowd of curious
natives are looking on in silent wonderment. One of their
number has a live snake coiled round his arm. When I
notice it, he tells me in broken English — the natives seem
to pick up English, even in French possessions — that he
has just caught it and rendered it harmless by knocking
out its teeth.
Just at this time a young native commences climbing

158 On a Surf-bound Coast.
a cocoanut tree close by, with the help of an oblong wooden
hoop. One end is round the tree, and, leaning with the
small of his back in the other, he presses his feet against
the trunk and clasping the hoop each side with his hands,
takes a step and then jerks the hoop higher up the tree.
In this manner he ascends as rapidly, and apparently
with as much ease, as if he were walking up it. After
throwing down several cocoanuts, the youth descends in
the same way, only of course backwards. When he reaches
the ground, an impetuous cable hand, his imagination fired
by the seeming ease of the performance, catches hold of
the hoop and says to the youth somewhat abruptly,
without considering whether he would understand or no,
" Here, young man, see me ! " And he jumps into it, hold
ing it in the same manner, plants his feet against the
tree, and attempts to ascend. But he soon finds that it is
not quite so easy a matter as it looks, and he goes through
the most ludicrous contortions, after advancing a step one
side, in his efforts to jerk the hoop up a corresponding
height on the other. His performance is watched smil
ingly by his companions, and with great excitement by
the crowd of natives, who are screaming with delight and
amusement at this exhibition of the white man's prowess,
till he is obliged to give the attempt up in despair.
Mr. Shirley and I now return to the hut, where we find
two of the French clerks taking advantage of the declining
sun to have a dip in the waters of the channel, which are
as smooth and picturesque as a highland lake. We
cannot join them, the hour at which we agreed to call
Sierra Leone having arrived. We are answered at once, and
hear that they have a number of messages for us ; and as
Mr. Shirley wishes to take tests which require some time,
it is decided that I should return with the men and send
off a boat for him at nine o'clock. Jenkins joins me on the

Krooboy Songs. 159

beach, the cable hands are all ready and waiting for us,
and the Krooboys have already got the surf-boat launched.
We are soon on board of her, and start off for the ship.
The sun is sinking out to sea, and tinging the distant
horizon with a purple light. In the east, dark, threatening
clouds are gathering. The Kroomen have commenced
one of their native songs, and the effect is not unpleasing
as we glide along with only the regular plash of the oars
upon the water to be heard. The vocal music of the native
African is very similar all down the coast, and is usually
conducted by one man, who acts as leader of the chorus,
while the others join in the last few words or syllables of
each line. The tune is monotonous, and bears a distant
resemblance to a Gregorian chant, the musical compass
consisting of only a few notes. The voices are somewhat
harsh and strident, but at the close of each line they
manage to strike a chord, which, though perhaps in viola
tion of harmony according to the most cultivated taste,
has not a disagreeable effect upon those who are not so
highly educated musically. The boatswain, who is sitting
sideways on the same thwart as stroke, and who occasionally
lends him a hand, begins the song in a high-pitched
resonant tone, and it is at once taken up by his crew.
They display no misgivings with regard to the reception of
their music by the cable hands, who are crowded in the
bows of the boat and in between the thwarts, but bellow
out their chant as if they were alone in the depths of
their primeval wilds. Occasionally number two, who
rejoices in the distinguished sobriquet of " Pea Soup,"
bursts in and takes the solo out of the boatswain's mouth ;
but the song being apparently extempore, his inventive
power does not sustain him for a prolonged effort, and he
soon relinquishes the lead again to its original possessor.
" They're enjoying themselves, ain't they ? " remarks

1 60 On , a Surf-bound Coast.
Jenkins to me, as they take up the chorus with renewed
vigour. " There are some powerful lungs amongst them.
I don't suppose, you know, that they have made any
improvement on that tune since it first came out, I don't
know how many centuries ago. I have heard identically
the same air sung by niggers in Mexico and the West
Indies." " Or perhaps," I reply, " your ear is not sufficiently
educated in their music to be able to distinguish one air
from another. You have heard the story of the shepherd
who knew every one of his flock of a thousand sheep by
sight, but who saw so few human beings that he could
not pick out his own master, when on a rare occasion he
found himself in the market town."
" Indeed ! " he responds, in a tone devoid of any interest,
being either unable to grasp the logic of the illustration,
or too indolent to follow out the comparison. "Well
here we are alongside," and he runs up the gangway
with a trifle more activity than usual, in order to escape
a further tax on his powers of analogical reasoning.
After dinner we find it a close, oppressive evening, and
sit on the quarter-deck watching the gathering storm.
The flashes of lightning become more vivid and more fre
quent, and the roll of the thunder approaches more directly
overhead. By nine o'clock the storm bursts over us in its
full fury, with bright streaks of forked lightning and
deafening crashes of thunder. When it is raging at its
height, there is a loud explosion on deck close by where
we are sitting, and immediately the whole stern of the ship
is illumined by a brilliant light. We think, momentarily,
that an unknown store of gunpowder has been struck
by the lightning and exploded, or else that a number of
detonators have been let off simultaneously by some
mischance, when in the strong light we see the figure of

A Startling Explosion. 161
the second officer walk across the chain gratings and
throw a dark object into the water, after which the light
decreases and almost entirely disappears.
" Curious thing," he says coolly, as he steps down to
where we are sitting. " You wouldn't think that one of
those life buoy patent lights would make all that noise,
would you ? Yet that was the cause of the loud report.
I suppose the tin was not properly covered, and the heavy
rain had managed to get into it. They are constructed,
you know, to begin burning directly they are thrown into
the water, so that would sufficiently account for it. It is
still alight, you see, floating away astern there." And
looking over the bulwarks we can see a bright light burn
ing on the top of the water, while on the chain gratings
there were still a few flickering flames from some of the
mixture which escaped when the tin was burst.
When I turn in, it is still pouring down in torrents, and
Mr. Shirley has not yet returned in the boat which was
sent for him at nine o'clock. But we conclude that he
is either waiting for the storm to pass away, or has taken
up his quarters at the station definitely for the night.
Wednesday, June 30th. — It is a beautiful morning with
a cloudless sky, in great contrast to the previous night.
Mr. Shirley turns up late for breakfast and responds
rather testily to inquiries made as to how he slept.
" It's all very well for you fellows who turned in com
fortably at eleven o'clock and have had a good night's
rest. I did not get on board till two o'clock this morning.
Those Krooboys are empty-headed fellows ; I was very
busy at the hut, and did not get away punctually at nine
o'clock, but when I reached the shore, about half past,
I found them all taking shelter from the rain under a big
tree, with the boat left high and dry on the beach by the
M

162 On a Surf-bound Coast.
falling tide. When they tried to launch her again, being
the heavy surf-boat, they were hardly strong enough to
move her, and then the storm came on worse than ever,
and we had to take shelter once more. This was repeated
several times, moving the boat a little way each attempt,
but not getting it finally launched till two o'clock. It
wasn't a pleasant night, I can tell you, and I hope it will
be a long time before I experience another like it."
Soon after breakfast a party go ashore to make final tests
on the recently laid section, and the rest of us settle our
selves for a read in the pleasant shelter of the awning over
the quarter deck. The islands seem quiet and deserted,
and the only sign of life is occasionally some large native
canoe, with its slender mast bending beneath the weight
of the oblong sail, gliding smoothly by us over the
rippling surface of the water. Ensconced comfortably
astern reposes a native chief, regarding indolently our
ships with an expression of mingled indifference and
contempt. Behind him, seated on his haunches, in order
to get a view ahead beneath the sail, is the helmsman
steering with an ordinary paddle. In the bows a man is
plying indefatigably a pair of tomtoms, from which he
extracts four notes, and plays the changes on them with
his two short drumsticks. He varies the performance at
times by digging the handle of one of them into a drum,
apparently to stop the prolonged vibration. Amidships,
leaning against the mast, are two youths with the merest
strip of clothing round their loins. They are posed in
all the easy grace of nature, watching, motionless, our
ships, their smooth dark skins glistening in the morning
sun. The doctor, who has settled himself in his chair over
an interesting novel, expecting to have a quiet morning,
does not find his wishes realised. First of all an English

The Doctors Patients. 163
sailor comes up in a shamefaced sort of way, with his cap
in his hand, and begins in a low tone, "I feels awful
bad this morning, sir. My head's quite dizzy, and I'm
all of a tremble. Can't do nothing at all, sir, I feel so
queer." "I think you will pull through, by the look of you.
However, I suppose you want me to do something for it.
Go down in the surgery. I shall be there in a minute or
two." Then a Krooboy appears, directed by the quarter
master, and points to the big toe of one of his bare feet,
saying it has been crushed, though it does not look so
very bad.
" Dear, dear," says the doctor, " it's quite plain I shan't
get, any peace this morning," and he accompanies this
second applicant below.
When he has attended to them and once more returned
to his seat, an old gray-haired sailor approaches him and
says, "Do you think, sir, I could send some illustrated
papers and tracts and copies of the New Testament ashore
here for the use of the poor natives ? "
The doctor, being a staunch churchman, is always
consulted in these matters by the more serious portion
of the crew. " Well," he replies, " you might send scores
of them ashore, but it doesn't seem to have entered your
head whether they are sufficiently educated to take ad
vantage of them."
Before leaving Sierra Leone, the steward got in a very
good supply of fruit. It is cheap there, too — oranges a
penny, a dozen, pineapples a halfpenny each, and the
same price for a bunch of bananas containing six of them.
The oranges are thin skinned and small, but very sweet ;
the bananas, which old Sir John Mandeville called " the
apples of Paradys," are of a rich yellow colour, not large,

164 On a Surf-bound Coast.
but of excellent flavour. Besides these, there are water
melons, mangos, and guavas, as well as two other kinds of
fruit, with which I have not made acquaintance before.
The first of these is called a " custard apple," and in
appearance is like a large dark green raspberry. It is
a little bigger than an ordinary orange, and its surface,
like that of the raspberry, is covered over with a number
of protuberances. These protuberances form, each of
them, a separate portion of the fruit, extending right to
the centre, and it breaks up into sections in this manner
with a very little pressure. The sections consist of a
whitish yellow fruit — to which part it probably owes its
name — and within is a black stone. The white substance
alone is eaten, and is of a sweet, agreeable flavour.
The other fruit to which I am introduced is called by
the stewards " alligator pears," some others declaring
them to be papaw (?). This fruit really partakes in
flavour more of the character of a vegetable. The name
is given on account of the shape, and probably also the
size, being like a very large green pear, and turning a
brownish purple when very ripe. Some of them, how
ever, are nearly round in shape, and almost as large as
a bowling ball. There is a very large stone inside, be
tween which and a soft outer skin is a greenish yellow
substance, of which the flavour at first is decidedly sickly,
though not because it is at all sweet. After a time, how
ever, if one perseveres with them — they are, like olives,
quite an acquired taste — they become very palatable, and
eventually are regarded as a positive delicacy. They are
best eaten with vinegar and pepper.
By dinner Jenkins joins the ship again, after his brief
stay at Conakri. He is an enthusiastic collector of curios
and live animals, and now he comes off with a good selec
tion of both kinds. Among the former are several gris-

Jenkins Pets. 165

gris or charms worn by the natives round their necks.
They are obtained from the Mohammedans of the interior,
and are generally in the form of a diminutive purse made
of fancy leather work. Inside this purse is sewn a small
scrap of paper containing mostly a verse of the Koran,
but now and then a quotation from the Bible is found
instead. Among the live animals there is a small long-haired
monkey of a pretty red colour like a fox, and not un
prepossessing in appearance. It has already been christened
" Jennie," and soon becomes tame and a general favourite.
Then there comes on board among his possessions a strange
melancholy bird, secured to a string by one of its legs.
From its appearance no one could tell whether it was a
very young bird or a very old one. Its preternatural
solemnity and self-possession would lead one to suppose
that they have been acquired by the accumulated ex
periences of many years, while its abnormally ungainly
figure, long legs, short stumpy body, with hardly any
tail, outbalanced the other end by a beak of gigantic
proportions, would cause one more charitably to conclude
that it is yet an infant, and lives in hope of shortly out
growing these monstrosities. Jenkins announces himself
charmed with it, declares it to be a condor, " a lovely young
bird, quite small now, but meaning to grow to at least
three times its present height, and in every respect a
most valuable acquisition." Its plumage is a very dull
and unattractive brown.
The third pet is a young boa-constrictor, which a native
brought him at the last moment as he was leaving the
shore, and begged him to accept as a slight token of the
good will and kind wishes of himself and friends that
accompanied him on his departure. About this latest
addition to his stock Jenkins is more reticent. The object

1 66 On a Surf bound Coast.
is at present coiled up on a piece of flannel in a wooden
case, the top being secured with wooden bars. Jenkins
says that he was told it had a good meal before starting,
and that he had every hope it would last the creature
till he got well home to England.
After dinner we weigh anchor and set on for Sierra
Leone.

( 167 )

CHAPTEE XL
Sierra Leone again— Curios — A walk on shore — Dilapidated appear
ance of the town — A watchman's box — The native quarter —
Fashions of wearing the hair among women — Modes of locomotion
— Absence of horses — A tropical downpour — Native Sunday
school — " No admittance, by order of the Governor " — An
extensive view.
Thursday, July 1st. — Early this morning the condor is
found lying on its side, with its upper eye blinking feebly
and its loose leg giving spasmodic kicks at measured
intervals. Jenkins is at once roused from his cabin,
where he is found still asleep in his bunk. On hearing
what is the matter he jumps up without delay, and hurries
on to deck just as he is, in his pajamas. After the bird
has been put three times on its feet, aud has as many
times fallen over directly it was left unsupported, Jenkins
thinks the matter is getting serious. " I dare say
it wants a drink," he says ; " but what shall I give it ?
What do you think it drinks at home ? "
" Water," suggests some one hesitatingly, " unless it
happens to be near when the natives are making palm
wine." " I am afraid we haven't got any of that beverage on
board. I have heard of whisky being used with bene
ficial results for similar attacks in cocks and hens, but I
forget whether it was Irish or Scotch. Perhaps we had

1 68 On a Surf-bound Coast.
better try both ; " and he goes below and shortly reappears
with a wine-glassful of each. One, he explains, he will
use for internal and the other for external application.
Having first besprinkled the Scotch whisky liberally
over the bird's head and legs, he opens its capacious beak
and pours the wine-glassful of Irish down its throat.
The patient makes three eager gulps at the refreshment,
gives a solemn wink of the near eye, and then struggles
on to its legs, and stands shaking out its feathers and
wagging its head, as much as to say, " That's just what I
wanted! I feel quite myself again now."
We find the Pioneer at her former anchorage off Sierra
Leone, and drop anchor just astern of her soon after nine
o'clock. One of the telegraph ships, the Livonia, belong
ing to the other company — who are laying cables for the
English Government from Bathurst southwards, touching
at Sierra Leone, Accra, Lagos, and Bonny — is seen enter
ing the river, and is soon at anchor near to us, when their
chief engineer comes on board.
All the morning the quarter-deck is swarming with
natives selling jewellery and curios. The latter consists
mostly of native leather work, such as sheaths for swords,
covers for bottles, and plaited work — mats, trays, fire
screens, and the like. The jewellers say that they get all
their goods from the Gold Coast, where they are made by
the natives. They consist of rings, brooches, and earrings,
many of them marked with strange characters supposed
to represent the signs of Zodiac.
In the evening I feel the effects of the climate for the
first time, having a violent headache accompanied with
nausea, which are the usual symptoms preceding fever.
However, the doctor takes me in hand at once, gives me
an antidote in good time, and advises me to turn in early,
which I accordingly do.

A Sierra Leone Hotel. 169
Friday, July 2nd. — This morning the headache has
disappeared, and I am quite well again, thanks to the
doctor's prompt measures. Shortly after ten o'clock, I go
ashore to see about some electrical instruments for the
telegraph station. When I arrive there, I hear that
North and the two others are at breakfast in the hotel,
which I am told is next to the cathedral. On reaching
that building I see a house much after the same style as
all the others in Sierra Leone, with crumbling plaster and
discoloured walls, but with no signboard or notice outside
to signify its character. There are the two usual door
ways always open, and within is a shop and counter. I
think I have made a mistake, but on asking for the hotel
I am told this is it, and am directed to the breakfast-
room through a passage on the right. This room is
merely an arbour built on to the house, with three sides
of green trellis work and a wooden roof.
At table I find North, Hutchins, the superintendent
of the station, and Gregson, all seated on one side, two
Frenchmen on the other, and an Englishman at the top.
One of the Frenchmen is apparently convalescent, if so
favourable a term can be used, from a severe attack of
fever. His hair is close shaven, his complexion is of a
deathly pallor, and his eyes have the meaningless fixed
stare which always follows a heavy dose of that malady.
A negro lad is working a large punkah extending along
the whole length of the table. They invite me to join
them in the fruit course, which usually ends breakfast on
the coast, and to which they have now arrived, and then
North and Gregson return to the station, while Hutchins
and I take a walk in the town.
It is a damp oppressive morning, with not a breath of
wind stirring. The houses, even the most pretentious
ones, seem neglected and dilapidated in the extreme,

170 On a Surf-bound Coast.
walls with cracks and fissures, roofs with loosened slates and
balconies, on which there is hardly a trace of the original
paint. The appearance of decay is heightened by the
grass which runs out from each side of the road till it
leaves only a narrow track in the middle. On this grass
goats, and occasionally bullocks, are put out to graze.
Hutchins has contrived to gather a variety of informa
tion on different subjects during the short time he had
been ashore, and imparts some of it to me.
" It is a decayed and deserted-looking place, isn't it ?
I have walked over nearly the whole town, and have
seen very few houses in anything like decent repair.
\ You see the number of European residents has gone down
enormously — I think now there are only sixty or seventy
altogether — and those that are here take no interest in the
place, and only regard it in the light of a temporary abode
for them. Accordingly they are satisfied if they keep their
houses in sufficient repair to be habitable, and do not
take any trouble about appearances. With regard to the
grass in the streets, its growth is, if anything, encouraged,
as in the dry season when the Harmattan is blowing there
is considerably less dust about the streets than there
X would be without it. The Harmattan is a dry north-east
wind, blowing from the Sahara and filling the atmosphere
with a dull haze, supposed to be caused by the numbers
of fine particles of red sand borne along with it. This
wind blows for several months, and is so dry that doors
are cracked, window frames are loosened, and the binding
of books coiled up by it."
"What is that thing like a fowl-house or a large
rabbit-hutch, outside that shop, for ? " I ask, pointing to a
wooden structure about six feet long by four feet high.
" Why, that is the watchman's box, into which he gets
on a rainy night — and for the matter of that most other

Former Insolence of Natives. 171
nights; and lying down — you see it is not high enough
for him to stand or even to sit — he fires off his gun now
and then to show that he has not gone to sleep. The
natives here dislike the rain very much, and there is the
greatest difficulty in getting them to do any work when
it is coming down.'"
We now reach what appears to be a more exclusively
native quarter of the town, and make our way along a
narrow street with stalls in front of all the small shops,
leaving only a narrow passage in the middle. The houses
behind these stalls are merely small wooden shanties of
very light construction. The street presents a very
animated scene, being crowded with natives in their
bright coloured cotton garments. The chief goods for
sale are cotton cloth, household utensils, such as kettles
and saucepans, and a variety of smaller articles such as
hand mirrors, reels of cotton, needles, and common glass
and china ornaments. Here a native comes up and offers
himself as a guide, and although we tell him we do not
want him, he keeps with us and obtrudes his remarks, till
he is persuaded at length to leave us only by threats of a
very decided character.
" There are always some of those sort of niggers about,"
remarks Hutchins, " who must take Englishmen for a very
poor set, if they think they cannot go and have a look
round the town without their aid. So far as I have seen,
however, the natives here are much better behaved than
I expected to find them, from the accounts I had heard
of them a few years ago. It was hardly safe then for a
European to walk through the town. Some native was
sure to come up and begin abusing him, and applying all
sorts of epithets, the most stinging of which, in their eyes,
was that of ' white nigger,' the word ( nigger ' meaning a
slave in their acceptation of it. Thenif the white man,

172 On a Surf-bound Coast.
goaded on beyond endurance by these insults, should so
much as threaten to strike the black man, a summons for
assault was at once procured, and plenty of natives were
found to swear they had seen the white man making the
attack, while the jury, also natives, were always ready
beforehand with a hostile verdict, and then a large fine
was imposed. So far was this abuse carried, that several
natives used actually to make their livings by the
damages they got for assault from Europeans, whom they
had systematically insulted. The native jury, however,
is now abolished, and that has worked a revolution in the
manners of the people. Most of the European-dressed
natives of the lower class take off their hats, as you see,
and say, ' Good morning, sar,' in as amiable a manner as
one could wish."
We stop at a stall to buy one or two of the calabashes,
and some of the plaited straw work of the country. The
calabashes are gourds cut in half, of all sizes, from that
of a teacup to a large washing-bowl. The outside
surface is scraped till it is white, and then different
figures are burnt on it with a red hot iron instru
ment. The calabash is a sort of universal household
utensil, being used to carry fruit or goods of any descrip
tion to and from the market, or as a receptacle for every
kind of article. The mat work is made of grass dyed
with native dyes, forming trays, baskets, or dish mats for
the table.
On reaching the end of this long street, which runs
from the river upwards, we continue in the same direction
along a grass road with native huts each side. The
inhabitants are for the most part seated outside, the men
smoking and the women passing in and out of the hut
engaged in household work. Of the latter, those with
more leisure spend it in preparing their hair, and we

Fashions of wearing the Hair. 173
come across a family party seated on the hard ground
outside the hut, busy with this engrossing occupation.
They are five in number, probably the mother and four
daughters, and they are seated in a circle, each one
engaged in screwing up into fantastic shapes the limited
amount of woolly hair belonging to the one immediately
in front of her. A great variety of fashions is displayed,
one head of hair being done up in a number of short tails
of about a couple of inches in length, stretching straight
out from the head like an ancient battle-axe with iron
spikes ; another arranged in a padded roll, a faint imita
tion of the old chignon mode ; while a third is twisted
into a mass of thin hanging ringlets. Hutchins declares
this last operation to be exceedingly difficult and laborious,
taking three days to accomplish, after which, fortunately,
it can be, and generally is, left untouched for the space
of one month.
Going higher up towards the wooded hill, we cross a
stream with a full rush of clear gray water. Standing in
the water nearly up to the knee are native women washing
clothes by rubbing them on large smooth stones, occasion
ally swinging them over their heads with the action of
a boomerang thrower, and bringing them down on the
stone with a loud report, so that a dissolution of the
garment seems momentarily inevitable. We have now
reached the foot of the first wooded hill leading up to the
summit of the mountain, and as it is too warm and close
to think of ascending to-day, we turn and walk back to
the town by a different route. On the way we pass the
cemetery, which, even for Sierra Leone, is peculiarly
decayed and neglected-looking. It is surrounded by a
high wall of red sandstone, and covers two or three acres
of ground. There is a little dismal vegetation, and the
few monuments that are of stone are black and mouldering.

1 74 On a Surf-bound Coast.
No doubt the damp climate, combined with the intense
heat, is mainly responsible for this decay, and perhaps
the greatest care would not prevent the stone from crumb
ling gradually away. Just below the cemetery at the
entrance to the town, is an avenue of remarkably fine trees;
indeed, if it were not for the trees that grow in the streets
and courtyards of the town, Sierra Leone would present
a most forlorn appearance. At several of the open spaoes
are pumps and sometimes fountains, and I hear that the
town water is very fairly good.
We are now in the principal street leading down to the
river. As we look along it there is hardly any one visible,
a few figures perhaps at the further end, one or two cross
ing from the side roads, and a couple of palanquin-bearers
waiting outside one of the better class of houses. Soon
an aged native emerges from this house and walks towards
the palanquin. He is dressed in a long frock coat, dark
trousers, patent leather shoes, and a very good-shaped tall
hat adorns his grizzled curls. The palanquin is merely
a canvas hammock swung on one pole, and with an awning
over the top. As he gets in he takes great care not to
sit on his coat tails, and rests his legs, which hang over
each side, on a board which is slung beneath for that
purpose. The two bearers raise the pole on to the top
of their heads, and walk along rather unsteadily under its
weight. "That seems to be the usual mode of conveyance in
this town, and is universally in favour in Portuguese
places on the coast, where they are called ' maxillas.'
There are no carriages in Sierra Leone, for the simple
reason that there are no horses. The climate is too trying
for them, and what with the food they get — which is
common bush grass — is nearly always fatal to them.
Horses die, and donkeys, whose constitutions are suffi-

Modes of Conveyance. 175
ciently strong to withstand it physically, have their brains '
affected and go mad."
" How about mules ? " I suggest.
" Statistics about them have not yet been collected,"
he replies, smiling.
" Now that," pointing to a bath chair which was bowling
merrily along the smooth track in the middle of the road,
pushed by two natives, and guided by the occupant from
within, " is really the pleasantest way of getting about.
It is much less labour to the men, and one can go at a
good deal more than double the pace. We will turn into
Booth's store now and have something after our fatiguing
walk in this close atmosphere;" and he leads the way into
a large shop, and saluting the proprietor passes behind
the counter into a back room. Here we seat ourselves at
the table and are soon provided with some excellent beer
and lemonade. Mr. Booth, Hutchins informs me, is the
leading merchant in the town, and has made a consider
able amount of money. He is a most favourable specimen
of the native African, is well informed, free from class
prejudices, and much respected by the English residents.
He also enjoys the dignity of being an unofficial member
of the council. Hutchins speaks to him on our way out.
He is good-looking, elderly, somewhat stout, and in
ordinary European costume. He is sitting on a stool
behind the counter reckoning up some change for one
of his assistants, and he replies to Hutchins's greeting in
an easy self-contained manner, continuing meanwhile his
immediate occupation.
As we draw near the telegraph - station, a palanquin
passes us supported by four natives in a picturesque
mixture between a uniform and a livery. They are
moving along at a sharp walk, and when they reach the
station the occupant makes a sign and they stop, raise

176 On a Surf bound Coast.
their hands to the ends of the two poles upon their heads,
lift them off, and lower them sufficiently for him to reach
the ground, all their movements being executed with
great military conciseness and uniformity. Their master,
who is a middle-aged man, wearing a suit of gray cloth
and a gray felt hat, walks up to the entrance, stopping
temporarily to glance at the notice-board of the latest
telegrams, round which are gathered a small group of
natives, one of the number, who has apparently received
an English education, reading them out in a loud tone
for the benefit of his less fortunate brethren.
Then he disappears upstairs to the first floor.
" I could not quite see who that was," says Hutchins ;
" but to judge by the bearers of the palanquin, I think
it must be his Excellency the Governor of Sierra Leone.
We will go in and see."
But it is getting late in the afternoon, and it is time
for me to get back to the ship, so I say good-bye, and set
off for the jetty at once.
On board I hear the governor is coming off to dinner
this evening, and they are making the quarter-deck look
very gay with bunting in his honour. A homeward bound
mail has just dropped anchor off the town, and shortly
after a twelve-oared galley, rowed by natives in uniform,
puts off from the landing-place and makes for us. In the
stern I recognise the gentleman I have just seen at the
station. It is the governor, and he comes to say that as
the home mail has arrived unexpectedly he will be
unable to come to dinner, as he sails in her for England,
and has very little time to arrange his affairs ; and then
he leaves and pays a visit to the mail boat. A lieutenant
from one of the gunboats, and the chief engineer of the
Livonia, the other two invited guests, arrive ; and we have
an excellent dinner, the steward having surpassed himself

A Tropical Downpour. 177
in his endeavours to make a good table for the expected
visit of the governor. Bouquets of flowers decorated the
saloon ; and for the repast real turtle soup, a wild pro
fusion of entrees, bombay ducks, a fine show of fruit, the
whole accompanied by a good assortment of wines, and
concluded with choice liqueurs.
Saturday, July 3rd. — The mail is leaving for England
to-day, with the governor on board. Jimmy Wood is
asked if he has got any letters to go by her. " Me,
letters ? No ! What's the use of writing ? The missus
never expects to hear from me. I can't tell her what we
are going to do, because I don't know ; and there's no time
to tell her what we have done."
Sunday, July 4th. — There is an incessant downpour of
rain from the time I turn out at seven o'clock till mid
day. In such torrents does it descend, that a bucket left
not under cover, fills as quickly as if it were beneath a
tap, and the awning bags out with the weight collected
on it, and has continually to be shaken to prevent the
accumulation being more than it can bear. A matutinal
shower-bath of the most effective character can be, and
very generally is, enjoyed by the simple process of walk
ing to an unsheltered portion of the deck, instead of going
to the bath-room.
After lunch it clears up, and I arrange to go ashore with
the doctor, who is always ready to stretch his legs on terra
firma. As I wished to visit the wooded hills behind the
town, we go straight through the streets in that direction.
" I believe," says the doctor, " that this is the most
sickly time of the year in Sierra Leone, especially among
the natives. I called on a native chaplain yesterday
whom I met when we first came here. In his house I
N

178 On a Surf-bound Coast.
found a number of friends, who seemed rather solemn,
but that, I thought, might be accounted for by their not
having anything to say. The host came up to me and,
after the usual salutations, he said something to me which
I could not quite catch, not being so good of hearing as I
was once, but which, as far as I could make out, was either
' I have just married a wife,' or, ' I have just buried a
wife.' Being at a loss whether to congratulate or condole
with him, and the impassive countenances of his guests
affording no clue to the solution of the difficulty, I con
fined myself to some uncompromising exclamation like,
' Oh, indeed ! ' and I am afraid he thinks I am wanting
in natural sympathy, and possessed of great callousness
of heart. He lives in that house over there ; and if it
were not for this unfortunate mistake, I should like to
have taken you with me to call on him, as he is a very
decent sort of fellow."
In spite of the torrents of rain which have been des
cending all the morning, we find the roads quite hard and
firm. The subsoil appears to be a stratum of red sand
stone, which forms good level roads, and seems unaffected
by the weather. On reaching the outskirts of the town,
and entering the quarter of the poorer and more primi
tive natives, we hear the sound of voices singing pro
ceeding from a low wooden building, and go and see what
sort of an assembly is gathered in it. We find it to be
filled with native children — boys and girls — and is evi
dently a Sunday school. The building is a very simple
structure, being merely a wooden shed, open almost
entirely on all sides, which, no doubt, is a very necessary
arrangement in consideration of the climate. They are
engaged in singing an English hymn ; and they dwell on
the notes with a lingering affection, combined with a
peculiarly high-pitched and resonating twang.

A Native Sunday School. 179
At the conclusion of the hymn, one of the teachers, a
native — there are no white people except ourselves present
— sees us, and comes to ask if we should like to say a few
words to the children. The doctor replies that he is very
sorry, and that he would have liked very much to have
complied with his request, but that it is some time since
he addressed a similar assembly, and on such short notice
he was afraid he could not do justice to the occasion.
The teacher then moves towards the end of the build
ing, where we have just entered, and to which the children
have their backs ; and kneeling on one knee, while his
opposite hand rests on a stout stick, he turns his face
towards a fine view of the surrounding country, and begins
an extemporary prayer. After first of all beseeching the
spiritual and temporal welfare of the children, "who
know not their right hand from their left," he puts in
an additional plea on our behalf, describing us as poor
strangers, who had come thousands of miles away from
their native land, and required a special protection in their
distant undertaking. The children are very well behaved,
and a pattern for a good many Sunday schools at home.
We continue our walk past wooden shanties, mostly
two stories high, with open spaces for windows, occa
sionally adorned with coloured chintz curtains. This
kind of architecture may be very pleasant and airy in
the dry season ; but has a bare and unprotected appear
ance during the rains. Civilisation extends to these
remoter suburbs, and on one house I see a painted notice,
" S. Johnston, photographer," with a glass-covered studio
at the top, and from another comes the penetrating notes
of a harmonium playing a Sankey and Moody hymn.
The houses are for the most part detached, and in
between them grow a variety of tropical fruit trees, the
plantain, banana, orange, palm, and lime.

180 On a Surf bound Coast.
On reaching the foot of the hill the roadway grows nar
rower, running up in an oblique direction towards the right.
It is densely wooded on each side, and shaded by overhang-
iug trees. After ascending this road some little distance,
we see a pathway on the left, leading more directly up the
hill, and so we take it. The scenery becomes exquisitely
pretty. Besides the palm and silk-cotton trees towering
high above, the graceful fronds of the plantain and banana
are visible below, while beneath them again extends a rich
tropical undergrowth, the delicately striped green-and-
white African grass being in especial abundance. Butter
flies of gigantic size and unfamiliar hues flap indolently
by, whilst birds with every striking coloured plumage fly
from tree to tree, calling and answering each other in
soft liquid notes.
Soon we meet a palanquin, with four bearers wearing
a picturesque Arabic costume, carrying a young English
man, reclined in perfect ease and smoking a cigar.
Our curiosity is aroused to know from what place he
is coming down this sequestered path, and conclude
that it leads to some private residence on the hill. A
little further on we reach an open doorway, with "No
admittance, by order of the Governor," posted on it. We
think it may be, perhaps, his excellency's hill retreat, on
which no one ventures to intrude; but as the scenery
beyond looks more inviting than ever, and there is the
cool refreshing sound of falling water, so welcome in the
heated atmosphere of the tropics, we disregard the warn
ing and continue our ascent. The path soon brings us to
a narrow ravine between two hills, in the centre of which
is falling a stream in foaming white cascades of water.
Higher up, the path crosses the stream by means of step
ping-stones. Here the view is particularly enchanting.
Huge dark-coloured boulders lie in the bed of the stream,

An Extensive View. 181
and round them the water rushes in hurrying, seething
volumes. Above, the foliage meets, forming a covered
archway, which the sun's rays are sufficiently powerful to
lighten up into bright green tints, while not enough to
penetrate it altogether, and thus they leave the course
delightfully cool and shady.
After crossing the stream, the ascent gets more gentle
and the wood on each side less dense, till we emerge on
to an open level space at the top. Here we find three or
four blocks of low wooden buildings, which we conclude
at once to be barracks, from the figures in dark blue
uniform piped with red which we see around them. We
are told on inquiry that they are the 1st West India
Begiment* and that their quarters are called Cartwright
Hill Barracks. Passing behind the first block and
turning to the left, we come to an eminence directly
overlooking the town, and also commanding a magnificent
view of the country for a great distance inland. The
town itself looks more picturesque from above than from
the river, and is so well wooded in the gardens and
courtyards, that a large number of houses are hidden,
giving an appearance quite different to that when in the
town, where the buildings show one uninterrupted front
to the street.
On the right of the town, on some flat ground near the
river, is visible the fine structure of Fourah Bay College,
and also the bishop's palace, built in a pretty sequestered
nook. Lying in the river we can recognise the Thraeia
and the Pioneer, as well as the Livonia, a mail steamer,
and the three English gunboats. But although they
are perfectly distinct in the clear atmosphere, they seem
exaggeratedly small, as though they were merely pleasure
yachts. Across the river is the low Bullom shore, one
continuous mangrove swamp with here and there a dull

1 82 On a Surf-bound Coast.
leaden lake, with no signs of human habitation, and
enveloped in a thick white mist. With the eye we can
trace the course of the river as it winds its way inland,
like a shining path amidst the dull flat land, until in
the far distance it is lost beneath a lofty range of hills.
Turning round and looking over the barracks there comes
into view a wooded hill rising up to the highest summit
of all, and some more barracks in an open space about
half way up it.
There is a fresh cool breeze blowing here, and we
seemed to have entered a totally different climate to the
town. So chilly, in fact, do we find the air after the heat
of our ascent, that the doctor proposes our return, before
the effects made themselves felt injuriously. On our way
down we meet an English lady and gentleman, whom we
take to be an officer and his wife. It is the first English,
or indeed European woman I have seen at Sierra Leone;
but the effects of the climate are plainly visible in the
appearance of both of them. Going down is a very easy
matter compared with going up, and we reach the jetty
before sunset, getting on board just in time for dinner.

( 183 )

CHAPTEE XII.
A stationer's shop — A native editor — Nigger boys at cricket — Sierra
Leone cattle — Coaling by electric light — An excited pilot —
Leaving for Grand Bassam — Notes on the climate, etc.
Wednesday, July 1th. — The last two days the Pioneer
has been alongside the Thraeia transferring all the cable
she had on board and such of her stores as would be
useful to the Thraeia and which she does not want her
self, as it has been decided that she shall return home at
once, while the Thraeia is to go on to the Gold Coast.
Here she is to lay shore ends at Grand Bassam, Accra,
and Cutanu, in readiness for the Copperfield, for whose
arrival she is then to wait. We have just heard by cable
that the Copperfield has left England, so we do not expect
to have to wait long for her after we have laid the shore
ends at those places. The Pioneer has now drawn away
from us and is anchored a little distance off, while we are
taking in a large supply of coal to last us down the coast,
coaling stations there being few and far between.
After lunch, wishing to make a few purchases, and
also to escape the dust and discomfort which always
accompanies coaling on board ship, I go ashore in the
steam launch. At the station I find Hutchins in great
distress about his fox terrier, who is down with a very
bad attack of fever. He takes me to see the patient, and

184 On a Surf-bound Coast.
I find it coiled up on a mat in a shaded corner of the
balcony, looking very disconsolate and hardly able to
wag its tail on our approach. Hutchins tells me that he
almost despaired of keeping it alive yesterday, but that
after several strong doses of quinine, the dog appeared to
be a little better. In the office I find a copy of a Sierra
Leone weekly paper. Besides other local gossip it con
tains a small article devoted to the work we are engaged
in, so I determined to procure a copy. I observe that
the most conspicuous advertisement on the front sheet is
that of an undertaker who invites the attention of the
reading public to his fine assortment of ready made coffins.
Leaving the station, I make my way to a corner shop
a very little distance off on the other side of the road.
On entering I find it to be very well stocked, containing
principally stationery, but also displaying for sale a
variety of other articles. On the counter and side table
there is a good display of well-bound books, albums, and
photograph frames, etc., such as would not disgrace a
well-to-do stationer in London. In accordance with the
almost universal custom there are no shop windows, but
merely the two doorways with folding doors which are
kept fastened back.
On my entry a coloured assistant comes from a back
room with an easy independent carriage, and wishes to
know what he can do for me. I say I want some note-
paper. " Notepaper, sar ? Yes sar, I will show you some,"
and he strolls about behind the counter, pulling out one
drawer and then another in his search, occasionally
glancing at his reflection in the glass case, in order to
see if his brilliant red tie is properly adjusted beneath
his stand-up collar and if his locks remain unruffled. All
the time he is whistling some gay valse tune which has
found its way out here from England some three or four

A Native Editor. 185
years after its original production. Indeed, from his
manner it appears as if I were an old acquaintance of his,
for whom he was good enough to be doing some trifling
service. At length the article is found, and when he has
served me I ask him if he has a copy of the weekly
paper that I require. He says that he has not one
left, but refers me to the printing-office of the paper,
which he tells me is in the next street but one, where I
shall probably be able to get it.
The road to which I am directed lies further away
from the centre of the town, and is proportionately
deserted and grass grown. Outside a dilapidated wooden
shanty I see "Printing Office" painted over the door.
On the ground-floor there is a bare room with two or
three printing presses in it, and when I ask one of the
two occupants — who appear to be doing nothing in
particular — for a copy of the last edition of the paper, I
am referred to the editor, and taken to his private apart
ment. This is merely a small office partitioned off in a
corner of the room. Within I find the editor seated at a
table, with no other furniture or ornaments of any kind
in the room, except a safe and a pigeon-holed shelf for
papers. He is a stout good-featured native, wearing
spectacles. He rises courteously, and on learning what
1 want, says that he has not got a copy left, but that he
will send and see if he can get one from a friend in order
to oblige me. He then offers me the only chair in the
room and the one which he has just vacated, and leaning
against the wall beneath a high window, on the sill of
which he rests his elbow, regards me placidly through his
spectacles, and begins in soft well-modulated tones and
clear enunciation, "1 presume, sir, that you come off
the telegraph ship Thraeia." I wonder from whence he
draws his divination, till I remember that I am wearing

1 86 On a Surf-bound Coast.
my uniform cap in which I hardly ever go ashore, except
when time is pressing, as was the case this afternoon.
"The article in last week's issue is the result of an
interview I had with Mr. North, the superintendent of
the telegraph company. I should like to see the Thraeia
very much. Mr. North promised to show me over her.
When do you think it would be best for me to go ? "
" I am afraid you won't have a chance of doing so just
at present, as we are leaving to-night for Grand Bassam
on the Ivory Coast; but I dare say she will be here again
in a month or two, when you wiE have another oppor
tunity of inspecting her."
" Yes ; I should like to foe able to do so." Then, chang
ing the subject rather abruptly, he says, " You have not
come to Sierra Leone at a very favourable season. This
is the sickliest.time of the year here, and the natives are
suffering a good deal from it at the present time. It is
the beginning of the rainy season, when the rain descends
violently but not continuously, and the heat, in conse
quence, is all the more oppressive, and the malaria more
prevalent, when the sun shines out in the intervals, and
draws the moisture from the soaking earth. Later on, in
September and October, the rain pours down incessantly,
and the climate is then more healthy, though hardly
more endurable."
A copy of the paper has now arrived ; and thanking
the courteous editor for the trouble he has put himself to,
I take my leave. On an open green in front of the office
half a dozen little nigger boys are playing cricket. It
seems a very popular game amongst the native children ;
and they can be seen engaged in it on every suitable pitch
all over the town. But the game, as played by the little
naked nigger boys of Sierra Leone, is a very different thing
to what it is on a village green at home. The bowler steps

Sierra Leone Cattle. 187
daintily up to the wicket, so as not to hurt his bare feet
against a hidden stone ; while the batter, if he sees a ball
coming towards his unprotected shins, hastily draws him
self aside, leaving his wickets to take care of themselves.
When I get back to the ship, the coaling is still going
on. We were to have weighed anchor soon after sunset,
but it is half-past five already, and there are several more
lighter loads to come off yet. One lighter has got adrift
and floated down river, causing much delay while it
is being chased and brought back. It appears that the
coaling agent has only one steam launch. While this
was engaged in towing one lighter alongside, another
lighter left the jetty in charge of two natives sculling from
behind, expecting the launch to return and pick them up
at once. But the launch was for some reason detained at
the ship, and a very strong tide running down, the efforts
of the two niggers astern were powerless against it, and
they were rapidly carried down towards the sea.
While the ship engineer is having all this difficulty in
getting the coals on board, the steward is experiencing
a similar difficulty with regard to his live stock. As a
lighter with about a dozen bullocks on board is being
brought alongside, one of the animals breaks loose, jumps
overboard into the river, and goes swimming gaily away
in the same direction as the missing lighter. Luckily
our steam launch is alongside of the ship, and sets off
immediately in chase of it. While it is returning, drag
ging the bullock along with it by a rope slipped round
the horns, another one, envying it the swim in the cool
water, jumps in also, and is soon washed astern. The
launch has first to take alongside the one it has just
recaptured, and then some little time elapses before it can
start in pursuit of the second one ; and when it does get
away, we see it steaming full speed ahead for a great

1 88 On a Surf-bound Coast.
distance down the river before it has come up with the
object of its chase.
The bullocks, when hauled on board — which is done by
a rope round their horns — are not unlike the Alderney
breed, and are of a light dun colour, in good condition,
but extremely small, not much bigger than a fine South
down sheep. They seem specially diminutive after the
tall, gaunt, ungainly quadrupeds, which alone we could
procure on the coasts of Senegal and Gambia. A few
well-fed kids, and two or three extraordinary animals
called sheep, but which seemed a cross between a goat
and that animal whose name they bear, complete the live
stock taken on board here.
When we come up from dinner, the thunderstorm which
has been threatening all day has at length burst over the
town. The rain is pouring down in torrents, loud peals of
thunder ring out at short intervals, and vivid flashes of
lightning make the intervening darkness all the more
impenetrable. Mr. North, who is again going to join us
to continue his voyage down the coast, has not yet come
off; and as we expect to be weighing anchor shortly, I go
on to the bridge to signal to him with the steam whistle,
as he requested me to do when I thought it likely we
should be starting. When I have done this, under the
shelter of the awning I watch the niggers working at the
coal on the deck below. A lighter is alongside just abaft
of the bridge. Here the deck is brilliantly illuminated
from above by a large cluster of incandescent lamps,
throwing a light, clear and distinct as day, all around
upon the almost nude figures of the natives, shining with
the pouring rain, and on the lighter below, where two men
are engaged in attaching the sacks of coal to the hook at
the end of the winch chain. The hook brings up eight
sacks at a time, and as they are lowered on the deck,

Coaling by Electric Light. 189
they are received with a shout by the men there, and one
of their number dashes for the hook, disengages it, and
yells out, " Haul awa' ! " in as little time as it takes us
to describe it.
The natives are working to-night with more vigour
than I have ever seen them work before, stimulated no
doubt by a promise of an extra allowance of grog at the
end of it. They seem to be enjoying themselves over
their unusual exertion, and greet each consignment with
an excited war whoop, while they execute a rapid war
dance, as they rush to secure a sack, and disengage it
from the rest, to be dragged by another detachment in
the direction of the coal bunkers. Amidst all the noise
and confusion — the rattling of the winch chain, and the
yells of their companions — this last detachment keep
up unceasingly one' of their weird monotonous chants, the
subdued solo raised to a swelling chorus at the end of
each line, sometimes rendered inaudible by a combination
of other sounds, but soon bursting out again and adding
greatly to the strange fantastic character of the scene.
Immediately beneath them, through the open hatchway,
I can see into the cable foreman's room, where they are
assembled in their shirt sleeves round the green table
cloth, smoking and playing cards with as contented and
composed an air as if they were comfortably settled in
a snug back parlour at home, instead of being cooped up
under deck on board ship, with the thermometer con
siderably over 80°, and a bunch of coal sacks dropping
every minute only a foot or so above their heads, to
the accompaniment of the yells of the natives and the
jarring of the steam gear.
When I return to the quarter-deck, I find it dark and
deserted, with not a dry place anywhere to be found, the
heavy rain having soaked through the canvas. The

190 On a Surf-bound Coast.
saloon is in possession of the purser, who is settling up
accounts with the agent there. Every one else has mys
teriously disappeared, as people only can on board ship,
so I turn into my cabin and read on the couch till I hear
the preliminary turn given to the screw, which indicates
that we are really to be off. Then I go upon deck and
see a coloured gentleman, well dressed in a black suit and
a black straw hat, pacing up and down the quarter-deck
and screaming out a volume of abuse against Mr. North,
who has apparently just come on board. The excited
native is saying — -
" Ah, call yourself a gentleman, and speak to me like
that ! I'm as much of a gentleman as you, and you're
not going to treat me in that way, I can tell you !
You're no gentleman, I see ;" and with many a scornful
curl of his nether lip, he continues his abuse and his
hurried perambulation.
On seeing me, North cries out, "Hallo, Bertram;
here's a nice sort of lunatic! Do you know who he
is? Well, to judge by his airs, he might be her
Majesty's representative for the whole of the West Coast
of Africa; but, as a matter of fact, he only happens
to be engaged as a pilot to take us down the river to
night. You would think I had done him an unpardon
able wrong or some irretrievable injury by his present
behaviour ; but it is nothing of the sort, I assure you. I
will tell you all about it. When I went to the hotel
to dinner with Hutchins this evening, before coming off,
this fellow was in the outer shop. He was seated on the
bar, swinging his legs, drinking grog, and holding forth
in loud and excited tones to two or three of his pals. On
seeing me, he shouts out, ' Hi ! you ! Do you belong to
the telegraph ship Thraeia? ' I saw the sort of state he
was in, and so I said nothing, but simply walked through

An Excited Native. 191
into the dining-room. But he was not satisfied with this.
He thought he had frightened me, and wished to push
his advantage to the utmost. Following me into the
room, he began, ' Didn't you hear me ? I want to know
if you are going on board the Thraeia ? Why can't you
answer a gentleman when he speaks to you ? I see you're
no gentleman.' Well, I had heard of the blustering
natives at Sierra Leone who come up and insult you, and
tempt you to strike them, and then have you up 'for an
assault, and so I took no notice, and went on talking to
Hutchins. But when his language became more vehe
ment than ever, and there was quite a little knot of his
adherents gathered at the door, laughing loudly at his
sallies and urging him on to wilder abuse, I said quietly
to him, 'Look here, my good man, I did not speak to
you at all, so I don't expect you to speak to me ; and if
you don't go out of this room at once, and leave us in
peace, I shall send for the police.' This was turning the
tables on him ; and the host, not wishing a visit from the
authorities for a disturbance in his house, caught hold of
him, and after much persuasion induced him to desist and
to return to his seat in the outer shop.
" When I came up to the ship just now, the first person
I see on board is this fellow, and he starts at once on the
old track. But," North continues, raising his voice so
as to be quite audible to the excited savage for the whole
length of his promenade, " being on board ship is quite
a different thing to being on land ; and I don't know that
I shall be able to restrain myself from kicking him here
with the same admirable command that I displayed on
shore." These remarks being evidently no empty threats ;
and the infuriated gentleman at length realising that he
is no longer in his native town, where it is his privilege
to abuse the white man, and then get himself indemnified

192 On a Surf bound Coast.
for it, ceases his recriminations; and as the anchor is
now being weighed, he goes forward somewhat unsteadily
to take his place upon the bridge.
We glide smoothly down river through the impenetrable
gloom till we are off the lighthouse, where we drop our
amiable pilot. Then we steam out into the dark sombre
ocean. It is a wretched night ; the thunder and lightning
have ceased, but the rain is still descending, and the sea
air seems chilly after our sheltered anchorage in the river.
" A gloomy beginning for our southern trip, isn't it ? "
says the doctor. " Not sufficiently pleasant for me to
stay on deck. The best place now is one's bunk," and he
disappears below. When I follow his example shortly
after, I notice on the way that the thermometer on deck
stands as low as 70°.
As we do not return to Sierra Leone again, I may as
well insert here a few remarks on subjects with regard to
this settlement, on which I have not already touched. The
different authorities on Sierra Leone are all agreed about
the beauty of the surroundings; Captain Ellis, in his
" West African Sketches," saying " the view on approach
ing is superb." There is no doubt that the colony has
. retrograded enormously since the days of the slave trade.
Mrs. Melville,* who went out to stay with her husband there
in 1845, declares that, before her time, in 1820, quite small
houses rented from £250 to £300 a year. But the early
colonists dated their reverse of fortune from the time that
slaves taken by British cruisers began to be landed there.
They proved to be great thieves, and refused to do work
of any kind whatever. In Mrs. Melville's time there was a
drive round the racecourse just outside the town, where at
least half a dozen carriages with as many European ladies,
* "A Besidence at Sierra Leone."

Notes on Sierra Leone. 193
and a good number of horsemen, used to take the air.
Now there is hardly a horse or an English lady to be
found in the whole colony. The trade is very insigni
ficant, a good many steamers only calling at the mouth
of the river to pick up Krooboys, and not going up to the
town at all. The colony is, in fact, kept going by a large
subsidy from home. Fourah Bay College, which started
so successfully, has now only sixteen pupils, although there
are three scholarships worth £40 a year. Bishop Crowther
is still in the episcopal chair.
The inhabitants are composed of the Mohammedan
Mandingoes, Kroomen, and the liberated slaves. The
Mandingoes we have already met at Bathurst. The
Kroomen form a colony of themselves at Krootown, under
their king, Tom Peter. The third class are of the typical
negro kind, and are the most ill-featured and degraded
people on the coast.
With regard to the climate, there is an unbroken uni
formity of opinion. The Medical Gazette of April 14th,
1838, says, " No statistical writer has yet tried to give the
smallest fraction representing the chance of a surgeon's
return from Sierra Leone." While there is a story of a
certain chief-justice asking for information about his
pension, and being unable to get any from the Govern
ment clerks, as none of his predecessors had lived to earn
it. It is a significant fact that there have been no less
than forty-nine governors of the colony since 1803.
Mrs. Melville has the same tale to tell ; how, shortly
after her arrival out from home, she inquired after a
friend who had called on her a day or two before in
apparently the best of health, and was told that he was
dead; while on another occasion, when she sent a message
to a merchant ship in the harbour, asking when it would
sail, as she wanted to send some letters home by it, she
o

194 On a Surf-bound Coast.
received the following reply : " The Ann Grant has been
laden some time, but cannot proceed down river, all hands
being dead." The same writer remarks, " I felt amidst
all the glory of tropic sunlight and everlasting verdure, a
sort of ineffable dread connected with the climate ; " and,
womanlike, even on leaving " the pestilent shore," she is
" still haunted by its shadowy presence."

( 195 )

CHAPTEE XIII.
Mr. Jenkins relates his experiences at Conakri — Mr. Shirley on old
religions and the doctor on burgundy — Tropical twilight — First
view of the Ivory Coast — Grand Bassam — A coast surf-boat — The
native crew — Parrots at a discount — Ground sharks — Landing the
shore end — Leaving for Accra.
Thursday, July 8th. — It is a wretched morning. The
rain is still pouring down in torrents, the ship is pitching
disagreeably, and the deck and saloon seem equally un
comfortable. In the afternoon, however, the weather
clears up, the sea becomes calmer, and by the time we sit
down to dinner every one is in good humour.
" Very pleasant, isn't it ? " begins Mr. Shirley, " to be
out at sea again and get some fresh air, after lying
anchored up that river on and off for nearly a fortnight.
I was beginning to feel quite used up, closed in by Sierra
Leone mountain on the one side and that particularly
oppressive Bullom shore on the other, and I was very
glad to get away. You seem better too, Jenkins," addres
sing that gentleman seated opposite to him, who appeared
more than usually composed and self-sustained, " though
you look rather as if you had got a stiff neck. Is there
anything the matter with it ? "
" Oh no," he replies ; " it's only because I have got on
one of those coats with tight-fitting, stand-up, military

196 On a Surf-bound Coast.
collars. I much prefer them at sea. They prevent
my catching cold."
" How do you manage ashore ? " inquires Mr. Shirley.
"On shore?" he repeats with a little deliberation;
" well, on shore, you know, I generally get a sore throat,"
which was a somewhat original way of solving the
difficulty. "How did you like being at Conakri?" asks Mr.
White. " I hope you didn't catch a sore throat there ? "
" Oh no, thanks. I had a very pleasant time alto
gether, those five days I spent there. They were a little
depressed the first night I went ashore, as they had just
lost the governor. He was a Frenchman, of course, and
had only landed there for the first time eight days pre
viously. The three French telegraph clerks — who, with
one other Frenchman and a German trader, form the
entire white population of Conakri — nursed him. I am
afraid his end was in some measure accelerated by an
unfortunate prejudice which his chief medical adviser
entertained against quinine.
" The three clerks themselves, who have now been there
eight or nine months, seem in very good health. I used
generally to call on the German after breakfast, because
he had some excellent lager beer; but I always made
a point of returning to dine with the Frenchmen in the
evening, as they had taken a great deal of trouble in
teaching their native cook, and had iu course of time
produced quite an artiste. They had become very regular
and methodical in their habits. At a certain hour of the
day it was the proper thing to do this or to drink that, and
at any other than the specified time, these same proceed
ings would, according to their view, be attended with fatal
results. We used to bathe in the evening exactly at 6.15
by the clock in the hut. We would then return to the

Tackling a Boa-constrictor. 197
house, and at 6.45 would take a French pick-me-up,
specially prepared in strict compliance with the climac
teric conditions of the day. As the minute hand was on
the stroke of seven, we sat down to dinner. At eight was
served another special drink, partaking of the nature of a
nightcap, and the first evening I was there they hurried
off to bed at nine. But this was really more than I could
stand two evenings following, and so the next day I raised
a loud protest against the barbarous custom, and pro
ducing a pack of cards, I proceeded to initiate them into
the mysteries of Nap ; after which we had a pleasant
game every evening, during the remainder of my visit.
" One night, when we were seated at dinner, the boy
came running in and said in great excitement, 'Big
snake, he live outside.' We all rose at once. Epailly
seized a double-barrelled gun and loaded it with No. 2
shot ; Noirtier took his rook rifle ; Dessouls was provided
with a Colt's revolver ; and, as I did not happen to have
any firearms with me, I seized a crowbar which I found
lying just outside the door, and with my usual discretion,
brought up the tail of the procession. The boy led us up
towards the fence which runs round the house. When
we had reached it we saw something move, and they all
let go at once, while my crowbar went within an inch of
the boy's head and then brought up against the fence,
knocking out three bars with the force of the concussion."
Here Jenkins paused to watch the effect of this circum
stantial narrative.
Mr. Shirley, who is an enemy to effects of any kind,
breaks in impatiently, " Well, how about the snake ? "
"The snake? Oh, why, we killed him proper.* He
hadn't a wag of the tail left in him when we inspected
him immediately after with a lamp procured from the
house. We found him to be an enormous boa constrictor,

198 On a Surf-bound Coast.
as long " — stopping momentarily to gauge the credulity
of his audience, then making a reckless plunge — " he was
as long as this saloon." A murmur of disbelief ran round
the table, all conversation having stopped to listen to the
exciting tale. " As long as this saloon," repeats Jenkins,
with continued hardihood, " more or less, that is. Eather
less, if anything," he adds in an undertone, and a curious
smile at Mr. Shirley, as if he was taking him into his
confidence. After this, there is a temporary lull in the conversation,
everybody making inward reflections and calculations on
the probability of the adventure just related. Jenkins,
entirely unabashed by the doubting reception of his
narrative, nobody else engaging the general attention,
resumes the lead of the conversation by addressing the
doctor. "I didn't take your sleeping draught last night,
doctor," he begins.
" Oh ! " replies the doctor, in a tone of voice which im
plies that he never expected that he would.
" But I took the quinine. I thought that would do as
well." " Indeed ! " is the doctor's response, with elevated eye
brows. "The fact is," continues Jenkins, "your mate on the
other packet," which was his way of alluding to the
doctor on the Pioneer, " says that chlorodyne is a very
dangerous drug, and when the faculty disagree, doctor,
what is one to do, eh ? "
"Go to the devil your own way," he replies testily,
and at once becomes absorbed in an alligator pear.
Mr. Shirley, to relieve the threatening atmosphere,
here breaks in, and says to the doctor —
" I am getting on with that book, doctor, called < Two

The Doctor on Wine. 199
Kisses,' which you lent me. I began in the middle of it,
in my usual way, read it through to the end, and was by
that time sufficiently interested to begin at the begin
ning. The subject I am at present exercised1 in is Old
World religions. Can any one recommend me a book on
any one of them ? "
" Well, there's the ' Light of Asia,' you know," suggests
Mr. White tentatively, " a poem written by  "
" Oh, if it's a poem, it wouldn't suit me. I never read
them." "Talking of poetry," says the doctor to Mr. Shirley,
with some little want of coherence, " did you see that
picture called Anadyomene, in the Academy of last
?J3
" I never go to the Academy, and I do not know the
name. I have heard of Anno Domini. Any connec
tion?" With such a determined Philistine at table, it is not
to be wondered at that conversation on the arts should
languish, while that on more material subjects, such as
food and drink, should take its place. The doctor holds
himself a good judge of horses, wine, and women. In the
eyes of the latter he must have been regarded as a beau
in his day, and is still very particular about his personal
appearance, turning out — in striking contrast to the rest
of us, with whom such a rig out would not survive a morn-
iug's work — in spotless linen, new trousers of a delicate
check, and patent leather boots. He holds the now widely
prevailing tenet about beauty, preferring that of form to
feature, and expressing himself thus curtly on the point,
" The face is nothing to me. I look at an ankle." And
now on the subject of wine he at once grows warm, and
says, " Madeira is the finest wine there is, there can be
no doubt about it. But the present generation cannot

200 On a Surf-bound Coast.
stand it. If I were to drink Madeira I should get gout.
No, if I had plenty of money, I would drink nothing but
hock or burgundy."
" Guess you know what's what," says Jenkins, anxious
to propitiate him.
"Madeira," breaks in Mr. Shirley, "is a very heady
wine. A man may drink three bottles of claret sooner
than one of Madeira."
" So I observed," says Jenkins, who had been an officer
in the Cape Mail Line, " when our passengers used to go
ashore there."
Friday, July 9th, — We are within seven degrees of the
equator, but we do not see the sun once all day. Not
that it is raining. Not a single drop has fallen since
dawn, but the sky is a uniform dull gray. Our course is
about south-east, and as the wind is north-westerly, we
have all sails set. The Thraeia, however, does not profess
to be a fast steamer, and with the help of the wind we
are only doing eight or nine knots. As we are travelling
in nearly the same direction as the waves, she is pitching
quite enough to cause one or two absentees from meals.
In contrast to the dull colour of the sky, the colour of
the water is a rich dark " bottle " blue. The westerly
breeze brings with it from the broad Atlantic a fresh sea
smell, such as we seldom meet with in the tropics, and
which reminds one more of the watering-places on our
southern coast at home. I note that the temperature at
midday is 79°.
I don't know how it is, but since we have been in the
tropics I have never once noticed the absence of twilight,
which you hear so much about, and which you are told is
one of the most striking features of these latitudes. Per
haps it is because we have had so much rain, and the sky

Grand Bassam. 201

has been so often overcast at sunset. Perhaps it is because
the West African tropics are peculiar from other tropics
in this respect, and have retained a twilight which the
others no longer possess. But whatever may be the
cause, certain it is that we have never yet experienced
that sunset in which everything one minute is glowing in
full rays of a burning eastern sun, and ten minutes
after all is pitchy dark, causing grave interruption to your
immediate occupation, unless you carry about with you a
box of matches and a wax candle. Of course the twilight
has been of short duration, but the change has been so
imperceptible, that it has never seemed to cause any in
convenience by a sudden disappearance of the light.
Saturday, July 10th. — The sky is clear, the sun is
shining brightly, and the wind having dropped the tem
perature has increased considerably. The sea is still
dark blue, but with a smooth and glassy surface. I am
told that we have rounded Cape Palmas, and are now off
the Ivory Coast, though no land is at present in sight.
Sunday, July llih. — After three days' voyage we
expect to reach our destination, Grand Bassam, this morn
ing. I go up on deck about half-past seven. The colour
of the water has changed to yellow, but the surface is
still smooth, though with a ponderous swell abeam, which
makes the ship roll solemnly and measuredly from side to
side. Looking out on our port, in the distance I catch
my first glimpse of the Ivory Coast; but all that is at
present visible is a long hazy black line on the horizon,
showing the point where the gray sea ends and the gray
sky begins. On drawing nearer, this dark line grows in
breadth and deepens in colour, till it reveals itself to be a
dense forest running along the whole length of the coast,

202 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and reaching nearly to the water's edge. A narrow strip
of yellow sand, however, separates this dark background
from the snowy white of the foaming surf. At a break in
the line of trees we see a long low building, two stories
high, and painted white, with a brown wooden thatch-
covered shed standing next to it. Off this white house,
at some little distance out, a barque is lying at anchor
and rolling with the swell.
" I wonder if that is a town or a village," says the
doctor, who is surveying the coast through his glasses.
" One never knows what to expect in these unfrequented
regions. I dare say we should find it put down on the
chart as a town and some important European possession."
We steam past it, and are leaving it rapidly behind ;
but Grand Bassam is still invisible, no other place having
come in sight along the coast. The captain begins to
have his doubts. It is true that we have not yet run, by
log, the computed distance, but the existence of a strong
easterly current off this coast is known, and it may have
been greater than allowed for. Accordingly, he decides
to put about and steam back to make inquiries at the
white house. When we are within signalling distance,
we ask the name of the place, and they reply " Grand
Bassam," no doubt offended at our having to ask such
a question. We see they have now hoisted the French tricolor,
which was not up when we passed before, and over the
brown shed is flying the flag of the African Steam
ship Company. We move slowly in past the barque, and
drop anchor between it and the shore directly opposite
to the white house. The barque, we now observe, has no
sails in her rigging and, as we afterwards learn, is used
as a hulk during the fine season in which to store cargo
in readiness for the arrival of the steamers. On the right

A Coast Surf boat. 203
of the buildings, and separated from the sea by a narrow
bar of sand, is the end of a picturesque lagoon running
inland, its banks clothed with trees, and a small schooner
lying at anchor in it. The sun is shining brightly, and
the white foam along the shore sparkles with a myriad
glittering gems of spray, while the breakers keep up a
dull continuous roar as they dash themselves upon the
beach. When we have anchored, we signal to them to send off
a surf-boat manned with natives, these boats being the
only means of getting ashore, as ordinary ones provided
with oars would be unmanageable in the surf. After a
considerable lapse of time we see through our glasses
a string of natives, with only a narrow strip of clothing
round their loins, issuing from the white house. They
each carry a paddle and go towards a large boat lying
keel uppermost on the beach. They do not attempt to
carry it or even drag it, but roll it over and over till it
gets down near the surf, and then the lofty breakers hide
them from our view. After an interval of several minutes
we see a dark object shooting high upwards as it meets
an opposing wave, and then the boat comes into sight, the
men digging into the water with their paddles at a
tremendous rate in order to get past the spot where the
next wave will break. When they are well away, they
take a rest and then paddle easily in our direction. But
' it soon becomes evident that they are going to pass us
and make for the hulk, and we feel very indignant that
such scant notice should be taken of us, and run up the
signal once more for a boat.
There is no sign, however, of an attempt to launch
another one, and shortly the boat already launched leaves
the hulk, and is this time evidently making straight for
us. As it draws near the shape and manner of propelling

204 On a Surf bound Coast.
it become plainly visible. The boat itself is large, being
about fifteen feet long by five broad and four deep. The
two ends are fashioned similarly to each other, curved like
bows, and without any rudder. There are two narrow
thwarts in the body of the boat, while at each end are short
stern-sheets on which the boatswain stands and steers
with an oar. This oar is secured by being slipped through
a loop of rope at the end of the boat. There are five men
each side, seated on the gunwales just as a lady sits a side
saddle, their inside foot resting in a rope stirrup about
half way down the side. Their paddles are about four
feet long, the blades varying in shape, but most of them
being about eight inches long by eight broad, curved at
the upper end, and cut at the other like a trident with
three points. As one hand rests on the top of the handle
and the other low down by the blade, in order to reach
the water they have to bend their bodies right forwards,
and the effect at first is very novel to observe. In the
distance they look like a number of Jack-in-the-boxes, as
they bob up and down at their work.
Seated in the stern thwart of the boat, with folded
arms, we catch sight of a pale-faced European, with dark
moustache and close trimmed whiskers, dressed merely
in a white shirt, flannel trousers, and a loose gray felt hat.
Owing to its depth his feet hardly reach the bottom of
the boat, and by the side of the huge natives he seems
small and insignificant. When they are quite close one
of the men gives a curious cry like a war whoop, such as
one would expect a warrior chief to emit on grappling
with his foe, and not at all unlike the caricature of it
which one hears at the Christy Minstrels or at a London
Pantomime. At this cry the crew dash their bodies for
ward till their heads nearly touch the gunwale, and
digging their paddles vigorously down, drive them surging

The Native Crew. 205
through the water with a dull rushing sound, and bring
the boat up alongside with as much commotion as a steam
launch. The white man stands up, and merely making
a sign to them that they should wait, steps out of the
boat and quietly ascends the gangway. On reaching the
deck he returns the officer's salutation with a true English
accent, and as a countryman is at once taken below, to
perform the simultaneous operation of taking in refresh
ments and giving out information.
Meantime two or three of the native crew have found their
way up the gangway, and are displaying their fine figures
to full advantage on the quarter-deck. They wear nothing
but a scanty covering of dark blue cotton cloth round the
loins, as they expect to get drenched both in launching
and beaching their boat. They are magnificently made
men, the muscles of their chests and shoulders, developed
abnormally by constant working with the paddle, standing
out in bold relief like the seemingly exaggerated statues
of ancient sculpture. Their skin is not black like Joloffs
and Mandingoes of Senegal and Gambia, but a rich copper-
colour, shining iu the sun like that metal brightly polished.
In feature, too, they have the advantage of them, being
distinguished by thinner lips, better shaped head, and
a more European caste of countenance altogether. A
thick supply of woolly hair covers the head, while they
display a great variety of taste with regard to that which
adorns the face. One has a gigantic moustache, the ends
hanging far below his mouth ; another, thick bushy
whiskers extending out beyond his ears ; while a third
wears a short well-trimmed beard. The hair on the face
is dry and crumpled in appearance, like that which
characterises false beards and whiskers, or the material
with which ladies used to pad their hair in the old chignon
days.

206 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Nearly the whole crew have now come up on deck.
They all seem to have picked up a little English, and
after having looked at you in a curious, calculating sort
of way, as if to reckon up the amount of authority you
possess on board, they pat their stomachs with one hand,
and point down their open mouths with the other, crying
out, " Hi ! John ! chop, chop ! " John is the name given
by them indiscriminately to every Englishman, while
" chop " does not mean, as with us, a certain portion of
the sheep, but is the native word for food generally. The
article of food which we found the natives — all down the
coast, without exception — most especially fond of, was the
ordinary hard ship biscuit. They prefer it to meat, bread,
or any other kind of food, and will do a hard day's work
for a small basketful of them. I have seen a native offered
two biscuits in one hand and a sixpence in the other, and
given his choice of them, and he has taken the two biscuits
in preference.
Another surf-boat, manned after the same manner as the
first, has now arrived, and goes forward to take a line ashore
from the ship, as we are to land the cable this afternoon.
Mr. White and Jenkins step into the first boat, in order to
go ashore and determine the spot at which to land the
cable and erect the hut. Jenkins is smoking a weed, and
as he seats himself on the aft thwart he thinks it might
be as well to put himself on good terms with the boat
swain who is standing up behind him, considering it
depends on him whether they get ashore without a duck
ing or not. Accordingly, he pulls out another cigar, and
offers it to him. The dusky native takes it, smells it,
and feeling satisfied that it is good, but boasting of no
pocket in his scanty raiment, while there is no place in
the boat where he can be sure of keeping it dry, he holds
it out again to Jenkins and shouts, " Hi ! Johnnie ! put it

Parrots by the Pailful. 207
in '00 pocket, till we get shore," with which request
Jenkins smilingly complies, amidst a chorus of derisive
laughter from those of us watching him on the quarter
deck. A native canoe now comes alongside with monkeys and
parrots for sale. They are both confined in rough wicker-
work baskets, three or four monkeys and about a dozen
parrots being respectively in one cage. Not finding a
great demand for them aft, they paddle forward to the
bows, where they meet with a warm welcome from the
cable hands and sailors. They want five shillings for a
monkey, and half-a-crown for parrots, and quickly find
numerous customers, the whole crew turning out and
bidding for them readily. Soon two more canoes arrive
with additional live stock, and the supply being thus
augmented, the prices are lowered, and at last they offer
parrots at seven shillings the pailful. So eager is the
competition to be possessed of them, that one or two of our
men, having come to the end of their ready cash,. take off
their coats and give them in exchange. The parrots are
quite wild, and peck at every one who approaches them,
keeping up all the time the most ear-piercing screams.
Several purchasers for this reason are rather embarrassed
with their new property, not knowing how to remove them
below with safety to themselves, and resorting to all sorts
of stratagems to seize them unawares and carry them off
before they can fasten their beaks on to their fingers. By
the time the bargaining ends it is computed that eighty
or ninety parrots must have come on board.
We begin landing the shore end soon after two o'clock,
and by four the operation is completed, and Mr. White
and Jenkins return, the latter, as usual, with an addition
to his live stock in the form of a diminutive marmosette,
coiled up in his arms. He tells us that they got ashore

208 On a Surf-bound Coast.
without any trouble, but that they had experienced a
great deal of difficulty in coming off again, the boat
being swamped twice, and finally only getting away
after shooting up almost perpendicularly over a huge
breaker. "The natives on shore are good-looking, but unhandy,
because it is a French place," Jenkins explains, with insular
prejudice. "There is plenty of gold about, the native
women wearing massive gold bracelets and anklets, with
gold hair pins securing their hair, arranged in a bunch
behind. I have a couple of large nuggets which I
obtained from the English agent. The trade here is prin
cipally palm oil, palm nuts, and gold dust, of which there
is as much as three hundred ounces on board the hulk at
the present time. The marriage laws, I was told, among
the natives are arranged entirely in favour of the male
sex, the husband holding the power of life and death over
his wife, and no one can interfere with him if he chooses
to exercise the latter right."
The chief danger in connection with going ashore
and coming off again is the quantity of ground sharks.
They swarm close up to the beach within the surf in
large numbers, so that if a boat is upset, there is nearly
certain to be one victim at least among the crew. Captain
Burton's description, therefore, of the coast, which he
calls exceedingly dangerous— "men landing with their
lives in their hands " — is not at all exaggerated.*
As soon as the shore party are all on board we begin
paying out cable. After laying two miles of shore end
type, we cut and buoy, and then set on for Accra.
* On the return voyage of the Copperfield, while a native crew
were trying to launch their surf-boat at Cutanu, one of the men, whose
knees were barely covered by the rising surf, was seized by a shark,
and so severely bitten that he died a few hours afterwards.

( 209 )

CHAPTEE XIV.
Accium, Elmina, Cape Coast Castle and Winnebah viewed from the
sea — Anchor off Accra — Difficulties in landing the shore ends —
Spoils carried off by a native crew — Fishing canoes — Cable foul
ing the bridge — A nasty fall.
Monday, July 12th.- — We are coasting along within easy
view of the land. The weather is overcast, but free from
haze, with a cool breeze ; and the country near the sea,
still thickly wooded, but more hilly than before, can be
seen distinctly in the clear atmosphere. We get our
glasses, and seating ourselves on the port quarter, inspect
the scenery as we swing slowly to and fro with the roll
caused by the heavy swell abeam.
The first place that comes into sight is found, after
consultation with the chart, to be Accium. It is a small
group of white buildings, nestling in a wooded amphi
theatre. Eight out at sea we pass a number of small
native fishing canoes. The canoes are roughly made,
being merely what are known as " dug-outs," that is, the
trunk of a tree hollowed out after the fashion of Bobinson
Crusoe's primitive craft. There are generally three in
each canoe sitting watching their nets and lines, the
canoe rising and falling with the slowly travelling swell.
These natives seem even lighter-skinned than those we
have just left at Grand Bassam. However close we pass
to them they hardly deign to look at us, beyond, perhaps,
p

210 On a Surf bound Coast.
a momentary glance, and then resume their watch as if
we were not worth taking any notice of at all.
A large whale now appears close on our port, and
forges ahead through the water in the same direction and
at the same rate as we are travelling, its back just visible
above the waves, always at the same level, and moving as
steadily and uniformly as though it were an inert mass
propelled by steam. Every now and then it shoots out
a thin column of water, which spreads higher up into
a white cloud of spray.
Elmina is the next town to come into view — a mere
bunch of white houses near the beach, and a white build
ing in an elevated position above, which we conclude to
be the fortress. Elmina belonged to the Dutch till 1873,
when it was transferred to the English. There are twenty
companies at work in the gold diggings there. Elmina
has a distant historical interest from the fact that
Columbus once visited it, as he mentioned to the Council
of Salamanca, to prove that it was possible to live in a
place so close to the equator.
At noon we see Cape Coast Castle. Here it was that
L. E. L., Lsetitia Landon (wife of Governor McLean),
the poetess, so much admired by a previous generation,
breathed her last. It is a much larger place than any
we have seen so far along this part of the coast. The
houses here, as is usually the rule in the tropics, are for
the most part painted white ; but there is a fine block
which appears to be built of red sandstone, and erected
on a bold rock washed by the waves. This, we afterwards
heard, is the castle. Overlooking the town, on a small
hillock, is a large lighthouse. There is no ship or boat
of any kind anchored off the town, which, like all other
towns on the coast, does not possess any harbour or jetty,
but only a surf-beaten beach. Cape Coast Castle has,

Accra. 211
like Elmina, also been visited by one who has left a
name in history, De Euyter having attacked it unsuc
cessfully with thirteen men-of-war. That must have
been in the palmy days of the settlement. Now, accord
ing to Captain Ellis, one old gunboat could knock the
fort to pieces in half an hour.
After passing Cape Coast Castle the country becomes
undulating and less wooded, scanty brushwood succeed
ing, with detached trees appearing only here and there,
till at length there is hardly any timber visible at all.
Travelling as we are, with a three-knot current, the
various small places pass quickly by, and the last town
we see before sunset is that of Winnebah. At eight
o'clock Accra light comes into view, and by nine, in a
clear tropical moonlight, we have dropped anchor off that
town at a considerable distance from the shore, and just
astern of a steamer and a barque, which we find already
lying before it.
Tuesday, July 13th. — Coming up on deck about six
o'clock I find it a gray, cool morning, the thermometer
standing no higher than 75°, and a fresh breeze blowing
off the land, and bringing back with it a fragrant perfume
that recalls the scent of English honeysuckle and fresh
mown hay. The Thraeia is still pointing westward, in
the direction in which she swung to her anchor last
night, the easterly current keeping her always in that
position. Accra itself is by no means an imposing-looking place
as viewed from the ship. Except a white fort on a cliff
in the centre of the sea front, no houses are visible but
native lath and plaster huts with thatched roofs. It is
a straggling town, built on ground some height above
the sea, which terminates in brown cliffs overhanging the
beach. On the coast about three miles to the east of

212 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Accra is a small but smart-looking group of white build
ings, with a fortress standing on a rock, against which the
rollers are breaking. This, I hear, is Christiansborg, and
the fort is the castle, where the governor of the Gold
Coast resides. The country inland behind the town is an
undulating plain, covered with bush or browned grass and
underwood, with here and there a gaunt withered tree.
After breakfast a surf-boat, similar to those we have
already seen at Grand Bassam, comes off in answer
to our signal, and Mr. White aud Jenkins, with one or
two others, go ashore in her. At two o'clock we see —
by the planting of a flag on the shore about a mile and a
half to the east of the town — that they have selected
a place to land the cable, and we steam round and take
up a position opposite to it. A place is chosen for this
purpose where ships are not in the habit of anchoring,
and consequently it is, as a rule, some little distance from
the town. We begin hauling the cable ashore about four
o'clock, but as we are a great distance from land it is a
tedious business, and one of the lines gets foul of some
rocks quite close to the beach. Night comes on while
they are underrunning and trying to set free this line, so
it is determined to give up the attempt and lie by till
next morning.
At dinner Jenkins is asked what he thinks of Accra.
"Well, we didn't see much of the town," he replies,
" as we went at once and called on the governor at
Christiansborg. Some of the usual difficulties presented
themselves at first. He declared, smilingly, that he had
had no official intimation of our expected arrival and the
work for which we had come ; and he was not sure
whether it wasn't his duty — as representative of her
Majesty's imperial interests here, and in consideration of
the fact that we were laying cables for foreign governments.

The . Governor of the Gold Coast. 213
— to have us all arrested and detained till he should learn
the wishes of the home government, with regard to his
further proceedings towards us. He also added that by
some mistake they had been on the point of opening fire
on the Pioneer when she came here last January, her
colour and shape, together with the ignorance of her
purpose, causing her to be taken for a foreign cruiser.
" However, he really turned out a very fine old fellow,
and was very hospitable and pleasant. In spite of the
climate he looks very hale, although he told us he had
had yellow fever in the West Indies, and four bad attacks
of African fever on this coast. The mistake, he declared,
that people make out here, is not living well enough, an
error into which, to judge from his hearty appearance and
hospitable board, he could not be accused of falling
himself. He told us that it is the middle of their rainy
season here, but that no rain has fallen for a month. It
is very cool and pleasant on shore, in fact, almost cold at
the castle at Christiansborg, and it is hard to believe that
the place is as unhealthy as reported. They say, how--
ever, that on account of the numerous lagoons and
extensive marsh land in the interior, the land breezes
are laden with malarious germs."
I turn in early this evening, in case a midnight watch
on the laid section of the shore end should be deemed
necessary. However, I cannot get much sleep, and go
up on deck at 2 a.m. to take some fresh air. It is
a lovely night, with a full tropical moon pouring down
its silvery light upon the shining surface of the water,
and showing distinctly the outlines of the cliffs and huts
on shore. Everything is hushed on board, and the only
sound is the jarring and creaking, at regular intervals,
of a few cabin doors which have not been secured, as they
swing backwards and forwards with the never-ceasing roll

214 On a Surf-bound Coast.
of the ship. , Aft, on the chain gratings, near the stern-
baulks are the figures of two cable hands on watch,
keeping up a low desultory conversation. On the quarter
deck near the hatchway reclines in an easy chair, with
his feet on another, the officer on watch, reading a novel
by the aid of a tank lamp placed on the chart table at his
elbow. He appears very much absorbed, and as he has
not seen me I do not disturb him, but go below and once
more turn in.
Wednesday, July 14th. — At daybreak we recommence
operations. The weight of the cable during the night
has sunk several of the balloons, but it is soon underrun,
the balloons recovered, and the hauling once more
continued. We are anxious to finish this, the western, shore end
quickly, in order to be able to land the eastern one as
well to-day. Jimmy Wood, the cable foreman's mate,
is bustling about, trying to find some hands to help
him in his work. But nearly all his men are on shore
landing the cable, or out in boats collecting the balloons,
and so he applies to the captain to know if he can borrow
some of his sailors. There is a little rivalry between the
seamen and the cable hands, both of them holding aloof
from each other and disliking to assist in mutual work,
if they can possibly avoid it. However, the present is an
occasion on which all such petty jealousies are laid aside,
and Jimmy having obtained the captain's consent, goes
up to the officer on watch and says in a cheery voice,
" Now then, sir, we want all your men." " Why," replies
that gentleman, somewhat taken aback by the unexpected
demand, "eight of them are in the boats, Jimmy."
" Ah ! well then, we won't have them, sir," and he toddles
forward merrily with his little round figure to secure the

A Delicate Portion for "Chop." 215
services of all the rest who are left on board. At length
the cable is landed, the men return from the shore, and
we start paying out towards Grand Bassam. After laying
three miles we buoy it, and steam back to land the
eastern shore end for Cutanu.
On account of the difficulty experienced in landing the
first shore end in the usual way at such a distance from
the land — the Thraeia not being able to get in nearer
than three-quarters of a mile because of shoal water —
this method was abandoned in the second attempt, and a
number of natives were collected on the beach, who
hauled the cable, slowly but effectually, ashore by means
of lines and pulleys. This plan proved quicker than the
other in the end, and by five o'clock the cable is landed,
and the shore party return in two surf-boats to the
exultant music of the rival crews.
We get under way at once, but the natives linger on
board to drink their grog and receive their " chop " in the
shape of biscuits or any other eatable they can manage to
get hold of. We are now under full steam, and the accom
modation ladder being hauled up, the surf-boat which still
remains is being towed by a rope from the bows, and is
forging on at about a level with the bridge. The crew
come running forward one by one with their spoils, and
throwing them over the bulwarks into the boat, slide
down a rope, plunge into the water and clutch at it as it
passes them. In this way they have nearly all left the
ship, when a dusky figure is observed staggering heavily
along from the butcher's quarters, with nearly the whole
inside of a fresh-killed bullock on his shoulders. On
reaching midships and seeing his companions just about
to let go, he shouts out something in his native language
in a very excited tone, and increasing his pace to an
ambling trot, he manages to clamber on to the bulwarks

216 On a Surf-bound Coast.
with his load, from which elevated position, with a skilful
jerk of his shoulders, he sends it full into the middle of
the boat, nearly capsizing it with the sudden addition
of weight, and throwing such as happen to be standing
off their balance into the bottom with it. He then gives
a yell of triumph and gratified ambition, and plunging
headlong from the bulwarks, dives deep beneath the
water, coming up with great judgment alongside of
the boat, and clambering in amidst a shout of welcome
from his admiring comrades. The native at the bow
sets loose the line, and they drop rapidly behind, some
standing up and giving us a farewell salutation, while
the rest are engaged in inspecting the unusually large
supply of provisions they have managed to collect.
" They are a cheerful lot, these niggers, ain't they ? "
remarks Mr. White. "I had a hundred and thirty of
them employed this afternoon in hauling the cable
ashore. They worked hard and with a good will, much
better than those miserable natives at Bathurst and
Sierra Leone. They were in such good spirits about it,
too. In between the intervals of hauling, they would
perform impromptu war dances, and run about laughing
and shouting . just like a lot of children let out from
school for a holiday. These boatmen here seem very
pleased with a few dry ship biscuits and odd bits and ends
of meat."
" Yes," breaks in Mr. Shirley ; " but what would they
want with that bullock's inside ? "
" Well," remarks Jenkins, no one else volunteering an
observation on the subject, " since you ask it, my experience
reluctantly compels me to inform you that they intend to
eat it, unorthodox dishes of that character being more in
favour with them than the regulation English roast
joint."

A False Alarm. 217
Just after we have sat down to dinner, the captain puts
in an appearance from the bridge, and as he takes his
seat, remarks to Mr. Shirley, " There will be some work
for you now. The cable has just fouled in the tank."
The abruptness of this information takes Mr. Shirley
by surprise, and he drops his knife and fork ; but being
of a deliberate and not easily excited nature, and con
sidering that if there was really any great need for his
presence in the testing-room he would have heard of it
from a more direct source, he resumes his knife and fork
and says—
" Let me think over the situation quietly. On these
occasions it never does to get flurried. We will finish
this course at any rate, Bertram," turning towards me,
"and we will wait and see if we can get any information
from the man on watch in the testing-room." After a
short time the engines, which have been stopped, are again
in motion, and we are informed that some slight hitch
which occurred in the tank has been easily rectified, and
that the cable is running out again all right.
" It is a fine thing," remarks the doctor to Mr. Shirley,
" to be of a deliberate temperament like yourself. A
more excitable character would have been thrown into a
state of wild alarm, and rushed up on deck, only to find
out his mistake, and to return with his appetite gone and
his digestion impaired. While here are you, partaking
quietly of your curry, as if we were on our way home,
with all the work concluded and its anxieties permanently
removed." The table this evening is but thinly attended, as when
cable is running out, at least half the staff are always on
watch. The saloon is immediately beneath the paying-
out machinery, and consequently enjoys the full benefit
of all the varied noises which accompany it when in

2 1 8 On a Surf-bound Coast.
motion. The loud jarring of the breaks upon the drum,
which causes the whole of the quarter-deck to tremble and
vibrate, the monotonous plash of the water pouring on
them from the hose, and the orders of the engineer on
watch passed along the line in vigorous shouts in order
to be heard above the machinery, combine to make a
bewildering medley of sounds proceeding from above.
Soon, however, as we near the end which we are about
to buoy, the ship slows down, and there is a quiet interval
while the buoy and mushroom anchor are being attached
to it. Then, we hear the anchor plunge into the water,
dragging after it the chain, which clinks and rattles as it
flies from the box at its wild pace, terminating with a
final swish, and all is silent.
" One requires strong nerves and an easy conscience,"
remarks the doctor, " to dine in comfort down here when
cable is running out. I suppose it's all safe enough ; but
from the variety of noises — the bangs and groans and
cracks one hears — a stranger suddenly planted in our
midst might naturally expect an immediate dissolution of
the whole of the quarter deck."
After buoying, we return to Accra, and drop anchor off
it for the night.
Thursday, July 15th. — To-day they are landing and
erecting the hut on shore. Not being interested in this
work, I spend a quiet day on board, alternately reading
and watching the operations on shore through the glasses.
Early in the morning the captain of the barque which
is lying just ahead of us comes on board, wishing to know
if we could let him have some fresh water, as his supply
has run out, and he cannot get any on shore, since they
have not had any rain for some time to fill their tanks.
We, of course, condense water for our own use, except

Accra Fishing Canoes. 219
when we reach a port where the water on shore is fresh
and good. As our own demand on the water supplied by
the condenser is considerable, we cannot spare him much,
but manage to satisfy his immediate wants.
The native fishing canoes here are very neatly shaped,
far superior to any we have seen down the coast as yet.
They all seem about the same size — fifteen to twenty feet
long, with good breadth of beam. Light thwarts made of
strong osier twigs run across the canoe at each end, and
in the middle. Weather boards, with a raised edge to
keep the water out, extend inwards to the distance of
some six inches, and give a very compact, seaworthy
appearance to the craft. There are generally four men
in each canoe, and early every day they can be seen
taking advantage of the land breeze, which blows in the
morning, to rig up their small white sail, and travel far
out to sea, returning in the afternoon with the sea breeze
which springs up about four o'clock. This afternoon I
see a whole fleet of them racing home, and count as
many as thirty-five. Our chief steward hails the men
in one of them as they pass close astern of lis, and
beckons them to the gangway, where he inspects their
fish. They have a couple of large fish and a number
of small ones about the size of mackerel. He takes a
big one and several of the smaller ones, but when we try
them at dinner they are not a success, the big one being
very coarse, and the others being chiefly noticeable for
an absence of flavour altogether.
Friday, July 16th. — This morning we are to splice on
a piece of heavy intermediate cable to the shore end
which runs towards Grand Bassam. We pick up. the
end about noon, and by two o'clock the splice is finished
and we start paying out. The cable joined on is coiled
in the fore tank, from which it runs straight up through a

220 On a Surf bound Coast.
temporary opening in the bridge, and then along a trough
on the hurricane deck, past the funnel to the quarter-deck.
Harvey, who came out on the Pioneer but who joined
the Thraeia when the former was sent home, is on watch, in
the testing-room, and I also happen to be there engaged
in finishing some other work. Suddenly we hear cries
from the men in the tank, and shouts of " Stop her ! Full
speed astern ! " handed on by the men on deck to the
captain on the bridge. At the same time the cable fore
man rushes past the testing-room door through the alley
way by the engine-room to the paying-out machinery
aft. My curiosity is aroused, and I step outside the
testing-room door and look underneath the bridge in the
direction of the fore tank. I can hear the cable still run
ning rapidly out, as, although the orders were at once
received and executed, some time elapses before the way
can be taken off a ship. As I watch, without a premoni
tory sound or warning of any kind, there is a loud crash
just above me on the bridge, and I see the captain and
the first officer starting aside. The cable, as it is running
out, has evidently fouled the next coil, and bringing it up,
has forced it through the small aperture in the bridge,
breaking the planks surrounding it on the way.
" What's up ? " I hear Harvey shouting out to me.
" There was noise enough overhead just now, as if the
whole roof of the testing-room was carrying away. I
suppose the cable has fouled in the tank ? "
" Yes, that must be the reason. How is the test ? Is
the spot all right ? "
" Quite steady so far," he replies, as he sits perched up
on a high stool, swinging his legs and watching the scale,
"though after all that row I shouldn't think it will
remain so long."
They had, however, by this time brought the ship up,

A Nasty Fall. 221

and I go to inspect the nature of the accident. On
mounting the bridge I find it to be as I supposed. The
opening is considerably enlarged, with splintered boards
lying around ; and on following the course of the cable
I come to the tangled mass which has caused all the dis
turbance. The cable hands at once set to work cutting
out the damaged portion, and I return to the testing-
room to satisfy Harvey's curiosity. I have just imparted
to him what I have seen, and we are both engaged in
testing a fresh section of cable, when Mr. Shirley appears
at the door and says in an agitated tone of voice —
" I say, one of the youngsters has just fallen down from
the main deck into the fore tank. I don't know who it is,
but I believe it's Tyrrell ; " and then he disappears
hurriedly in the direction of the tank. As we cannot
leave our work, we continue it mechanically without
interchanging a word, and anxiously awaiting further
information. Shortly, Mr. Shirley looks in again —
"I am afraid it is a bad business. It was a big fall
right on to the cable, and I think he must have knocked
himself about severely ; " and he once more disappears.
This last piece of intelligence upsets our capacity for
work altogether, and we remain gazing speechless out of
the testing-room window. Soon we see the third officer
coming forward with a glass of brandy, and directly
afterwards the doctor, bareheaded and with a quiet walk
but betraying his concern in his agitated looks, appears
on his way to the scene. Once more Mr. Shirley looks in
and says —
" I find it is not Tyrrell, but Morgan. He is no longer
unconscious, although he seems to have had a very severe
fall;" and then we see him carried past by four cable
hands on a stretcher covered with a mattress, and just
catch a glimpse of a pale wan face. Feeling that on

222 On a Surf-bound Coast.
such an occasion our presence would not do any good and
might possibly do harm by crowding the narrow space on
board, we remain where we are, still speechless, and
revolving on the uncertainty of human things. Soon,
however, Harvey's curiosity gets the better of him, and he
goes outside the door, from which he can get a view of
the quarter-deck through the alley way.
"I say," he exclaims, with a return to his ordinary
pitch of voice, "he can't be so very bad. He's sitting
up in an easy chair."
" Oh, that's better news ; " and we breathe with greater
freedom. Shortly the third officer, on his way from the
quarter-deck, looks in and says, " I suppose no bones are
broken, as he is able to walk now." This final piece of
information removes our anxiety, and having to go aft
about ten minutes later, I find the object of our concern
on his legs with notebook in hand actually taking notes.
I am too much astounded by this sudden resurrection to
ask the sufferer how he feels, and go forward at once to
inspect the scene of the disaster. It appears that he was
descending a ladder on to the main deck, close by the top
of the fore tank, when missing his footing during a roll
of the ship, he fell first on the platform supporting the
ladder, and then rolled over into the tank, a distance of
some twenty feet at least. Fortunately he fell on his
back and not on his head, though even as it was, steel-
covered cable is not a soft substance on which to descend,
and consequently it is not surprising that he was picked
up insensible. Having concluded my inspection, I return,
wondering, but relieved, to my work in the testing-room.
It is eleven o'clock at night before we have buoyed the
cable, and we do not get back to Accra till two o'clock
the next morning.

( 223 )

CHAPTEE XV.
Set on for Cutanu — A hospitable reception — Iquique in troubled times
— A fever medicine — Cutanu — The charts at fault — -A French
gunboat — Surf running too high to land — Little Popo.
Saturday, July 11th. — About noon, Jenkins, who had been
left ashore the previous day with the carpenters and
some cable hands, to superintend the erection of the hut
and the digging of the cable trench, returns with the
men, and we weigh anchor at once and set on for Cutanu.
Cutanu, a place on the coast about 200 miles east of
Accra, belongs to the French, and is the next point into
which our cable is to run. Accordingly, we are going
there to lay the shore ends, as we have done at Grand
Bassam and Accra. It is a dull afternoon, and we are
too far out from land to see at all what the country is
like. At dinner the doctor asks Jenkins how he liked Accra.
"The natives," he replies, "are not a bad sort, and
work fairly well. They complained that things are
getting beastly strict there. They say they are only
allowed three lawful wives now, instead of the good old
times when they could have as many as they could afford
to buy.
"There was a little hitch about my last night's lodging.
You see, I was told by the agent that he had spoken to
a German trader called Schwortz, or some such namOj

224 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and that this gentleman would be very pleased to put me
up for the night. He pointed out the house to me, so
when the work was done I came back there, and finding
no one in, I started a smoke, and made myself comfort
able in the first room I entered. After a bit, a nigger
servant comes strolling in humming some wild native air,
till he catches sight of me, when he stops abruptly and
stands speechless, staring at me vacantly.
" I said, ' What's the matter with you ? Don't stand
there as if you'd got a stroke, but come and give me
some information. First of all, where's your master, Mr.
Schwortz ? '
" But on hearing me speak his alarm got the better of
him, and he fled precipitately out of the apartment. Not
long after a stout red-faced European, whom I took to be
Mr. Schwortz, came excitedly into the room, followed at a
respectful distance by the nigger I had just interviewed,
and cries out, 'Who are you? What do you want?
What business have you got here ? Just clear out of my
house ! ' To which I replied, not quite liking his manner,
with considerable deliberation and interspersed with
several puffs at my pipe —
'"I am afraid there is some little misunderstanding
here. My name is Jenkins. You I believe to be Mr.
Schwortz ; and I was told that you had kindly offered to
put me up for the night.'
" ' My name is Schwortz, but I never heard of yours
before ; so the sooner you move out of my house the
better.' "Well, this treatment kind of roused me. It wasn't
hospitable, to say the least, considering it was my first
night ashore. So I said —
"'Mr. Schwortz, I reckon you must be labouring under
some mistake. Your name was given me, this house was

Mr. Jenkins Host. 225
pointed out to me, I was told to come here, and here I
am, and here I mean to stay.'
" ' But I don't know you, I tell you.'
" ' Well, if it comes to that,' I replied, ' I don't know
you either. So we're level there.'
" He looked at me gasping for a minute or two, and
then he pulled himself together and began stamping up
and down the room kicking at all the tables and chairs
which lay in his way.
" ' This is a nice state of things ! You come in here,
light a pipe, seat yourself on my favourite easy chair, and
positively refuse to move when so requested. You'll be
ordering dinner next, I suppose. Is there anything I can
fetch you ? ' he adds in a tone of mock servility.
" ' Well now, since you mention it, I should like a bottle
of lager.'
" Whether he felt himself wholly unequal to contend
any longer against the course things were taking, or
whether the mention of a favourite drink was sufficient
to dispel his anger, I couldn't say ; but the expression of
his countenance changed and broke into a radiant smile,
and turning to the nigger who was standing in the door
way, he cries —
" ' Hie, you rascal, go and bring a couple of bottles of
lager;' and then he placed before me a box of cigars, and
sitting down, he made himself so agreeable that I don't
know if I have ever been better lodged in foreign parts
than I was last night."
" That reminds me," says Mr. Thurston, " of an experi
ence of mine at Iquique, on the west coast of South
America, of a host who entertained me there one night.
It was during one of those periodical revolutions they enjoy
along that coast, and a little caution was requisite in going
in and out of doors. We had met in the town, and

226 On a Surf-bound Coast.
walked back to his house. When we got to the door, he
fumbled in his pocket, and at last brought out a large
key aud put it in the lock. After a short delay he
managed to unlock it ; and then, saying to me, ' Wait a
bit,' he puts his hand up above the door inside and brings
down a revolver.
" ' Don't move yet,' he says, as I make a step forwards,
and he stretches out his hand again and reaches down
another revolver. 'Here! you take this one. It's just
as well to be on the safe side, you know. One can never
tell what may happen in these unsettled times. Now I
think we are ready to proceed ; ' and locking the door
behind us, he begins groping his way up a dark rickety
staircase, and I follow him at a convenient distance.
" On reaching the top of these stairs there is another
pause to fumble for a key, and then the door is opened,
and just as I am feeliug my way through in the dark, my
leg is suddenly seized in a grip like a vice, an incident
that I so little expected that I gave a loud shout, and
dropped my revolver with a ringing clatter on the floor.
" ' Hallo,' says my host ; ' what's that ? '
" ' I don't know. Some confounded thing has got hold
of my leg.'
" ' Oh ! it's only my old bulldog, Grip. Don't take any
notice of him. Give him a kick.'
" It was all very well to talk like that, but I only had
one leg to kick him with, and that was engaged in sup
porting my body, the other being pulled off the ground
by. the tenacious animal. It was only after a light had
been brought, and his master, having exhausted all his
vocabulary of threats and entreaties, had at length got
him off by showing him a piece of raw meat, that I was
once more free to move. I did not pay any more evening
calls in Iquique that voyage."

Interested Sympathy. 227
" Salmis of duck, sir ? " says the steward to Mr.
Thurston, at the end of this exciting narrative.
" No, thank you. It's more trouble than it's worth. A
study in legs and wings, I call it."
A little later, with the sweets appears a certain kind of
pudding, which is rather popular just at present, and of
which Mr. Shirley is particularly fond. North does not
care for sweets as a rule, but having heard so much about
the pudding determines to try it to-night.
" I don't think much of your pudding, Mr. Shirley," he
says after tasting of it. "Don't see there's anything
special in it at all."
" No ; I acknowledge that it is not so good as it might
be this evening. By-the-bye, doctor, how is the baker ? "
who was at that time down with an attack of fever.
" Ah ! " says the doctor, shaking his head, " I am afraid
this is not disinterested sympathy. However, you will be
glad to hear that the patient is progressing slowly but
favourably." " Talking of fever," says Jenkins, and addressing him
self to the doctor, seated next to him, " you have not yet
tried my celebrated fever medicine, called ' Soudan
D'Etha,' discovered by a native from the interior of Africa,
and said never once to have failed to give immediate
relief. I have got in my pocket the little pamphlet which
is wrapped round the bottles sold by the London agents.
Would any one like to see it ? " producing at the same
time a piece of thin paper folded up a good many times
and crowded with small print.
Mr. Shirley takes it, and as he is unfolding it remarks,
" Curious thing that you two medicine fellows should
have got next to each other. Is it the result of that mutual
sympathy which springs up spontaneously between one
and all of the devotees of that grand and noble science ? "

228 On a Surf bound Coast.
" No," replies the doctor curtly, " it is the old tale of
imposture trying to shelter itself under the wing of
legitimacy." " Let me see what we have here," continues Mr. Shirley,
with the paper spread out before him. "Ah ! there is
the usual list of veracious testimonials. Here's one —
"'Dear Sib,
" ' I beg to state that when prostrated with
fever in an African swamp during an elephant hunt, I had
exhausted four quart bottles of quinine from my medicine
chest with no effect, the distressing symptoms which
accompany the fever being only augmented by their con
sumption. I had bidden adieu to my companion in sport,
and had resigned myself to death, when my faithful atten
dant produced from a corner of the chest a bottle of your
invaluable mixture, which a friend had slipped into it on
my departure from England. As soon as the liquid had
touched my lips, the burning fever abated, and by the time
I had finished the bottle; — the sample being a little over
proof, I could not take it all down at a breath — I was re
stored to my usual health,and enabled to continue the sport.
You are at liberty to make what use you can of this letter.
Since taking your wonderful medicine on that occasion I
have tried no other. '" Yours in undiminished health,
" ' C. Barranman Chorson, "'U.S.A.'
" That's a fever testimonial ! Here's one of another
sort —
" ' Sib, " ' For several years my wife had been
troubled with restless nights and talking in her sleep —

Fever Medicine Testimonials. 229
occasionally out of it — and I had nearly exhausted my
moderate fortune in attempting different cures for it. At
length a friend, whom I had known in my bachelor days,
brought me one day a bottle of your mixture, which I
administered secretly the same evening in a cup of gruel.
Not only did I enjoy the first peaceful night I had known
for many months, but on my return from work the follow
ing day, the dreaded disease seemed permanently removed,
and my wife has hardly uttered a word since.
" ' Yours in eternal gratitude,
"'Martin MoCordell.' "
Then, at the end of the puff which accompanies these
testimonials, after running through a list of the most
varied and dangerous ailments for which it claims to be
a sure remedy, Mr. Shirley finds the following remark,
" For an ordinary cold it is invaluable."
" Well, what a come-down after all that ! Would you
like to see it, doctor ? "
The doctor, after getting out his spectacles, glances
over it, and reads out another sentence —
" ' There is more than magic in it.' "
" Yes," he says testily, " there's the very deuce in it,"
throwing the paper away in professional indignation,
amidst a chorus of approving laughter from the table.
" Well," says Jenkins, picking up the paper and care
fully refolding it, " you may laugh as much as you like, but
the testimonials are all genuine, because I asked the fellow
who was selling it at the exhibition, and he told me so.
At any rate," he continues, preserving a wonderful gravity
of countenance, in spite of the increasing amusement, " I
hope to try it before I get back."
" On some one else, I suppose ? " suggests the doctor.
" Well, yes ; preferably, you know."

230 On a Surf bound Coast.
Sunday, July 18th. — We have drawn closer into land,
and by ten o'clock in the morning we are in sight of
Cutanu. The coast line is here very similar to that of
Grand Bassam, being a level country clothed with a deep
forest right down to the water's edge. As we draw near,
three white houses stand out clearly against the dark
background of trees. One of these is flying the French
tricolor. Anchored a little distance off the beach are a
small French gunboat with paddle wheels, an Italian
brig, and two Norwegian barques. The swell is unusually
heavy, and all the vessels are rolling rapidly from side to
side, at times almost putting their bulwarks under water.
From the beach comes the continuous, unvarying roar of
the breakers, and a cloud of white mist rises unceasingly
from the boiling surf. We drop anchor a little to the
east of the other vessels, on account of the constant
current from west to east ; and then send up a signal to
the shore for a surf-boat. No one, however, seems to take
any notice ; and with our glasses we can only see one or
two natives in front of the houses gazing at us with
languid interest.
Presently a boat puts off from the French gunboat and
comes alongside, with an officer seated in the stern. He
wears spectacles, and looks somewhat pallid, as if the
continuous rolling of the ship did not agree with him.
He informs us that it would be impossible to land to-day,
on account of the heavy surf, and that no boat has been
able to leave the shore for the last three days. Just after
he has put off, some inquisitive person who has been
studying the charts announces that he has discovered no
less than three Porto Novos and two Cutanus — the terms
apparently being synonymous and interchangeable — put
down in this locality ; and ventures the remark that it
might prove interesting to learn at which of these five

Cutanu. 231

places we happened to be. The captain says he knows
it's the right place on account of a certain bunch of trees
which was mentioned as a landmark by the Pioneer in
her previous exploring expedition down this coast. Mr.
White thinks it worth while to return the French lieu
tenant's call, and make further inquiries about the matter.
Meanwhile, we seat ourselves in our easy chairs beneath
the awning on the quarter-deck, and take to pipes and
conversation, whilst the swell rocks us to and fro, lying
broadside as we do to its course. It is a lovely morning,
with a fresh breeze, and just pleasantly warm.
" I think," remarks Mr. Shirley, as he gazes at the
French flag flying on shore, " it would not be a bad specu
lation to set up as a flag maker when one gets home, and
devote most of the business to the manufacture of the-
French tricolor. It ought to pay well just now. The
French appear to have run down the whole of this coast ;
and wherever they have seen a house or a habitable dwell
ing not already claimed by any other nation, they have
at once landed and run up their flag. By-the-bye, cap
tain, what would you call that craft there ? " as a small
vessel some distance out to sea catches his eye.
The marine authorities at once bring their glasses to bear
upon the object, and are soon in the midst of a heated
discussion as to her character, in which I hear the terms,
barque, brig, schooner, lugger, barkantine, brigantine,
three-masted schooner, fore and aft schooner, and a host
of other nautical appellations. At this juncture Jenkins
turns up from below, and Mr. Shirley exclaims —
" Ah, here's the man to settle our difficulty ! We want
you to tell us what that small vessel out there ought to
be called. But what on earth is that thing you have got
on your head? Did you make it yourself?" referring
to a loose cloth cap of very original shape and colour.

232 On a Surf-bound Coast.
" Do you mean this ? " says Jenkins, taking it off and
giving it a twist in the air to display it in the most
effective manner. "Why, this is Tiler's best one-and-
three, and you won't get a good hat in London much
under," looking round to see if anybody was about to
dispute this statement. Being met, however, with only
a smiling acquiescence, he prepares himself to deliver
some oracular and utterly conclusive verdict about the
vessel under discussion, when Mr. White returns from the
French gunboat and attracts the general interest.
" Have they been able to tell you," inquires Mr.
Shirley, " what is the name of the place they are anchored
off?" " Why, yes ; it's Cutanu, sometimes called Appi ; only
I discovered that it is put down in the chart some seven
miles west of its real bearings."
"That is a distinction," observes Jenkins, "not confined
to Cutanu. Several other places along the coast we have
found to be quite as much out as that."
"The only way to remove the difficulty," says the
captain, " when places are as small as this, would be to
erect a large signboard on the beach, and have their name
painted in large bold characters upon it, like a railway
station. The officers of a ship would then be able to see
at once if it was the place at which they wished to call."
" At any rate," continues Mr. White, " as there is no
prospect of landing here for some time, it is no good
stopping any longer, so I think we will weigh anchor,
captain, and return to Accra. We might go in a bit
nearer to the land this time, and see a little more of the
coast." We are soon under way and steaming along about
a mile's distance from the shore. I get a novel, place my
chair on the starboard side facing the coast, and inter-

Little Popo.

sperse descriptions of nature in the book with glimpses
of real landscape outside of it. The weather remains
perfect, the breeze keeps fresh, and the swell only gives
the ship a gentle swaying motion, which produces as
pleasant an effect as swinging idly in a hammock does on
shore. We pass several towns from one to three houses
each in size. Soon the dense forest lining the shore
grows thin and finally disappears, being succeeded by low
brushwood and a few detached trees. Later in the after
noon we reach a curious-looking town built on the beach
in the midst of a low barren track of land. There are
five good-sized trading houses or factories, as they are
called all down the coast, built mostly of wood, and gaily
painted, with well-made sheds and outhouses. In front of
each is erected a flag post, on which are flying respec
tively the flags of England, France, Germany, Italy, and
Spain. It did not appear which nationality claimed pos
session of the town, but perhaps it boasts the dignity of
a free state. This place rejoices in the high-sounding
title of " Little Popo."

On a Surf-bound Coast.

CHAPTEE XVI.
Accra again — Landing in a surf-boat — A walk through the town —
Gaily dressed natives — Christiansborg — A royal visit — A one
sided interview — His royal highness and his excellency submit
to be photographed — An abstemious boatswain — GettiDg off from
shore — -Improvised songs by the native crew.
Monday, July 19th. — We anchor off Accra about noon,
and after lunch I prepare to go aRhore to look after the
landing of some of the more delicate electrical instru
ments for the hut. A surf-boat with a native crew are
alongside at the bows, engaged in taking in the cases.
The accommodation-ladder is useless for getting into a
boat when the ship is rolling badly, so I descend a pilot's
ladder slung over the ship's side. The ladder not being
quite long enough, I let myself down the rest of the way
by a rope, which, as I had only one hand free to hold it,
and as it was quite new, took the skin off several of my
fingers. Alford, our amateur photographer, who is coming
ashore with his camera to take some views of the town
and neighbourhood, fares no better.
However, it is nothing much, and all being now on.
board we start off from the ship. When we have got out
a little distance I tell the crew that there is very valuable
property on board ; and that for every case landed dry I
shall "dash" them— their word for "give" or "present"
— a certain sum beyond their proper pay. This statement

Landing in the Surf. 235
is received with acclamation, probably more because they
heard the word "dash," than understood the conditions
under which they were to earn it. They paddle gaily on
again, and we soon draw near the shore.
This is my first attempt to land in the surf, and I am
curious to see how the natives manage their boat.
Alford, who came ashore here on our previous visit, gives
me some information about it.
" We are getting near the spot," he begins, " where the
rollers break. All along there, about forty yards from
the beach, runs a line of rocks, in which there is a break
for about thirty feet between those two standing up
higher than the rest. That's where we pass through, and
once within the barrier, it's all right. But they say that
if you are unfortunately overtaken by a breaker whilst
attempting to go through, it is pretty nearly certain to
end in a ducking if nothing worse. The boatswain is the
important personage, and everything depends upon his
nerve and judgment. If he gets at all flurried, things
are very likely to go wrong. There are reckoned to be
seven rollers to each minute, the seventh being the
biggest ; and it's part of the boatswain's business to watch
and count them, making a rush for the passage between
two of them. We are not far off the place now, you see."
As he is speaking the men, who have already slackened
their pace, are now only just touching the water with
their paddles, watching for the boatswain's signal. The
boatswain himself is strung up to his work, standing on
the stern sheets with one foot wedged firmly against each
side of the boat, and the handle of the oar grasped in the
right hand, and resting just above his hip. He keeps
looking anxiously forward to the passage, and then
behind him at the rollers, jabbering the whole time
in an excited jargon intelligible only to his crew.

236 On a Surf-bound Coast.
And now we are lifted up by a roller of unusual size,
which seems just on the point of breaking over us. But
it passes harmlessly by, and then the boatswain gives a
shout, to which the men at once respond and dash their
paddles down into the water with a force which makes
the boat leap forward, and we chase after the big roller
at our fullest speed. The boatswain is yelling and
stamping with his foot astern, as though he were
possessed, occasionally snatching rapid glances b.ehind
him at the roller that is pursuing us, and then redoubling
his excited cries. But we are soon through the passage,
just in time to hear the breaker crashing behind us, and
to be overtaken by a foaming mass of water, which the
boatswain, with a skilful turn of the wrist, receives side
ways with the boat.
We are now out of danger, and the men rest on their
paddles to regain their breath after the severe exertion.
Then, being only about sixty feet from the beach, we wait
for a spent breaker, and at the given signal we paddle in
on the top of it, and are shot high up on the beach with
a shock that nearly sends us off our seats. Out of the
crowd of natives waiting on the shore, half a dozen make
a rush for Alford and myself, and seizing us uncere
moniously by the arms and legs, carry us off and deposit
us high and dry beneath the overhanging cliffs. Then
they begin to clamour for a "dash." Having satisfied
their demands and those of the boatmen, I get some
natives I see with a handcart to take the instruments,
and we walk up to the agent's house where they are to be
temporarily left.
On reaching this Alford procures a bath chair and two
natives, as he wants to go to Christiansborg, and is whisked
off round the corner of the street at a good brisk run.
I go through two large folding doors into a courtyard and

Accra Town. 237

up a flight of stone steps, to the first floor of a well-built
house, with a wide piazza and a large airy room adjoining.
A short, neatly attired, middle-aged native, with slightly
gray hair and gold-rimmed spectacles, emerges from an
inner apartment, answers my inquiries in polished accent,
and easy self-contained manner, and takes charge of the
instruments at my request. I go down again and am
assisted in settling with the men who drew the handcart
by a young English clerk, tall and rather worn-looking.
A little difficulty arises, as the handcart is found not to
belong to those who came with it, they having quietly
appropriated it in the owner's absence, who now appears
and wants to be refunded as well. The young clerk
settles the point in question with great promptness and
decision, and thanking him for his timely services, I set
off to inspect the town, in the middle of which the agent's
house appears to be.
There are very few European-built houses, but the
native huts are planted thickly on each side of the road.
The walls of the huts are merely made of laths of wood
plastered over with mud to about eight inches in thick
ness, and the roofs are thatched with coarse grass. I go
along a street which appears to be the principal
thoroughfare. The women are sitting outside their huts
with small stands or trays in front of them, displaying
various articles for sale, such as beads and little
ornaments, looking-glasses, reels of cotton and kitchen
utensils. At the end. of this street is an open space with
a large building on the right, which, judging by the
sentry box and soldiers passing in and out, is evidently
the barracks.
The scene in the open space is striking in its distinc
tive character and eastern wealth of colour. It is a
warm afternoon, and the sun is pouring down clear

238 On a Surf bound Coast.
and bright. The natives are dressed in cotton cloth
of every variety, the favourite colours being scarlet
and yellow. The men wear one long piece, one end of
which they put under the right arm, and fold the rest
of it round the body, throwing the loose end over the
left shoulder. Thus the garment hangs in easy graceful
folds from the left shoulder to the ankles, leaving the
right arm and shoulder entirely free. On their heads
they wear caps like Turkish fezes, or else brilliantly
embroidered smoking caps of English manufacture. The
women's costume generally consists of two garments, one
hanging from the waist and reaching to the ankles, the
other, a shorter one, folded beneath the armpits and
extending sufficiently low to cover the top of the lower
one. In this upper garment those who have babies — and
nearly every woman seems provided with one — sling
them straddle legs behind, just below the level of their
waists. Dress improvers, consisting of a bundle of
cotton cloth, are very generally worn, either as a ledge
on which to seat the baby, or in the rare absence of that
accompaniment, regarded simply as an adornment of the
figure. Bound their heads bright coloured handkerchiefs
are artistically arranged. Bracelets of gold or coral
beads show to advantage on their dark arms, while
sometimes anklets are seen above their bare feet. Eings
are also frequent on their fingers, and occasionally ear
rings in their ears.
Leaving this open space on my left, and the barracks
on the right, I continue along the same road, passing the
ruins of a fine building, which I afterwards hear was at
one time a magnificent establishment belonging to a
wealthy planter, who used to own slaves to work on his
estate up country, but was obliged to give it up when
slavery in those districts was abolished at the conclusion

A Royal Procession. 239
of the Ashantee war. I had now come to the end of the
town, and find myself on a straight well-made level road
of red sandstone, with trees planted on each side at short
intervals, and leading I am told to Christiansborg.
As I have plenty of time I determine to go on, and find
that I have joined a stream of natives moving in the same
direction. These natives appear to have on their best
clothes, and to be going to some show or festival. Three
fine men in particular I note, in flowing robes of brilliant
and striking colours, gorgeous smoking caps, and long
thin staves they use as sticks, with magnificent arms and
shoulders, head erect, as nearly all the natives carry it,
and walking barefooted with an easy and elastic step,
that speaks of strong and sinewy muscles in their limbs.
The road runs parallel to the sea, about a quarter of a
mile distant from it, and in a fairly level track of land.
The country inland is covered with low brushwood, and
with a few scattered trees and brown bush grass ; but I
see a herd of cattle which look in good condition, in spite
of the dried-up appearance of the provender. About half
way between Accra and Christiansborg is the highest point
of the road, and here stand the hospital, the law courts,
and a few well-built private houses, this site being sup
posed to be healthier than on the lower level of the town.
On nearing Christiansborg I hear salutes being fired
from guns, and drums being beaten, and when I get in
sight of the castle I see a long procession of natives filing
in along a road from the interior. An English regiment
of native soldiers are drawn up outside, and a vast crowd
of natives are standing as spectators in the open space all
round. I hurry on to the centre of the scene, in my
haste walking in front of a small gim, from which at the
moment I pass they fire a salute, and which, as I did not
expect it, startles me considerably. Then seeing an in-

240 On a Surf-bound Coast.
telligent-looking native in European dress, I ask him
what it is all about. He tells me that the King of
Aquamu, in Ashantee, is coming in full state to pay a
formal visit to the governor.
I am now on a piece of rising ground, and from this
point get a good view of the procession passing along on
the road just in front of me. It is an animated scene.
Native soldiers line the road at short distances from each
other as far as the castle, and behind them on each side
are two large crowds of natives, the striking colours of
their garments forming a brilliant picture under the
brightly shining sun. The head of the procession has
just reached the point where I am standing, when I catch
sight of Alford, a little distance away, with his camera
fixed ready to take a photograph of it. I go up to him,
and on seeing me he says —
" Hallo, you have got here, too, then. Mr. North
is somewhere about with his camera, going to take
some views, and Mr. White is in the castle. I am par
ticularly anxious to get one of the king, only I don't
know which he is. I suppose, though, he will be at the
end of the procession. I am told he has got eight
hundred men with him."
There are apparently five companies, each headed by
a large, gaily painted sunshade made of paper, like
Japanese ones. The first of these is now on a level with
us, and beneath we see a fine native walking solemnly
and measuredly along, the man who is carrying the sun
shade being just behind him.
" I don't suppose that is the king," says Alford, " though
he looks proud enough of himself to be. But I think he
is sufficiently striking a figure to take," and he obtains an
instantaneous photo of the sunshade and its surroundings.
Mr. North now appears and tells us that the king is

Native Musicians. 241
under the last sunshade, and that under the first four are
the captains of the companies. The men are walking in
what is supposed to be four deep, but the lines are very
irregularly kept. They carry rusty old firearms of every
conceivable make and age, wear a slight cloth round the
loins, and, for the most part, look a very poor and de
jected gathering. After the last captain had passed
there is a slight interval, and then the vanguard of the
king's company appears. In the first two rows are men
waving aimlessly in front of them short wands with
bunches of horses hair attached to the ends, perhaps
meant to be a substitute for fans. Next to them comes
a row of men, carrying on their heads large tomtoms or
native drums, four feet long by two across, shaped like
bottles, with short thick necks, and lying horizontally
with their thick ends behind. They are followed by an
equal number of men vigorously belabouring these ends
with two thin hooked sticks, and without any regard to
time or uniformity. Then come the musicians, a wild
disordered band, with instruments of the most elementary
character, consisting principally of various sizes and
shapes of the different metals, which they bang together
furiously and unceasingly, the troop reminding one of
the uproar in a college quad after a bump supper, or
such as one would picture if all Bedlam was let loose and
trying to celebrate the occasion with music extracted
from the fireirons and tho component parts of a kitchen
range. Immediately behind this crew rides the king, in a
gorgeous hammock with purple and gold coverings, sup
ported by two poles on the heads of four men. The
king himself is seated cross-legged like a tailor, calm
and impassive amidst the awful din. He is a man of
about forty-five years of age — as far as one could judge
B

242 On a Surf-bound Coast.
the age of natives at all — dressed in a dark blue cotton
garment, worn in native fashion, with gold rings on his
fingers, and a gold chain round his neck. He is bare
headed, and has deep lines on his forehead, the result
either of deep thought, or the total absence of anything
to think about at all. By the side of his hammock walks
a young Englishman in a tweed suit and a lounge cloth
helmet cap, such as you might see for walking or shoot
ing attire in the Highlands, but what you would not
expect to meet within four degrees of the equator. North
at once informs us that this young gentleman is the
district commissioner, who is entrusted with the manage
ment of the whole affair.
"Let's go down to the entrance to the castle," says
North, " we shall get a better view there ; " and so we
walk down under its lofty white walls with the mouths
of the guns just visible through the openings above, till
we come to a flight of steps leading up to a gateway into
the courtyard. Here Alford takes a plate during a
temporary pause in the procession, and then the king
jumps down from his hammock and is conducted up the
steps by the young commissioner. At the top he is
received by a stout middle-aged Englishman in a dark
gray suit and low hat, which he raises as ceremoniously
as so ordinary an article of attire will admit of. North
tells me that he is the officer in command of the
regiment of Houssas here, though why he is not in
uniform on such a state occasion he does not proceed to
explain. This gentleman leads the king through the
courtyard lined with soldiers and disappears with him
up a second flight of stone steps. A few of the king's
immediate body-guard accompany him, and we follow
shortly afterwards, passing through the yard — in which
we find several trees rising from the paved court, with

A One-sided Interview. 243
fresh green foliage in striking contrast to the white walls
around — up this second flight of steps on to a wide
terrace. From this a third flight leads up to the balcony,
outside what is on this occasion the reception-room, but
which I hear is ordinarily the governor's private drawing-
room. Here we find his Excellency, surrounded by his
staff, seated at the further end of the room, and the king,
attended by his chief followers, opposite to him at the
other. The governor is a fine-looking man with gray
hair and beard, dressed in full uniform, which is naval
in appearance. Conversation is carried on by means of
an interpreter, an intelligent-looking native, short, with
regular features, and wearing a stylish-looking, gray
summer suit and patent leather boots, and with gold
rings on his fingers and a large gold chain. The inter
change of views is necessarily slow and at first also some
what one-sided. It is as follows : —
The governor. " King, I am glad to see you."
The interpreter interprets, and the king solemnly
inclines his head.
The governor. "King, you have come a great
distance." Another interpretation, followed by a second inclination
of the head.
The governor. "King, I hope the journey has not
fatigued you."
Still no response, and the governor begins to find that
it is not an easy thing to sustain a conversation in which
one of the parties concerned does nothing but bow his
head. " King," he commences once more, obliged to fall back,
for want of anything else to say, on to the good old
English topic of the weather, " it is very hot to-day ; "
and certainly, what with the weight of the thick gold

244 On a Surf bound Coast.
lace uniform and the difficulties he is encountering in
the way of conversation, he appears to say it with real
feeling, as he wipes away the perspiration from his brow
with a fine silk handkerchief. But even this usually
welcome subject does not elicit a single word of comment
from the king. Things are getting really serious. What
can you do with a gloomy native who comes and sits on
a chair opposite you in your own drawing-room for the
express purpose of having an interview with you, and
when he gets there does not utter a word, but confines
himself to solemn inclinations of the head? By what
means can he be induced to speak ; and how long is this
sort of thing likely to go on ? The governor shudders
visibly as he thinks of the powers of endurance of this
impassive African. '-'Perhaps a little pleasantry will
rouse him," he thinks to himself; so with his blandest
smile he says —
"King, where are your wives and daughters? Have
you not brought them to see me ? " and he waits for the
answer with the smile lingering on his lips, whilst the
interpreter performs his work. But, dreadful to relate,
the king only bows once more, though to the anxious
eye there might be perceptible a momentary contraction
of the eyebrows as though in displeasure.
" Sailing rather near the wind," thinks the governor ;
" evidently got on to a tender subject with him. What
is there left to say ? Confound the old savage, I can't
go on like this, it's enough to drive one wild. I will
make him speak.
"0 King, have you anything to say?" This was
pretty direct, and on the receipt of the inquiry through
the medium of the interpreter, the king is observed to be
actually opening his lips, and with his eyes fixed stead
fastly on the ground before him he repeats something in

The King Speaks. 245
his native tongue in a low tone and a quiet self-contained
manner. The king says, "When the father speaks, the child
listens and is silent."
"That's rather well put," thinks the governor. "He
knows what he's about, I see. Doesn't help me much,
though. Isn't he going to say any more ? "
There is another pause, and then the king continues.
The king says, " In times past we were enemies, one
to another. Now I would that bye-gones should be bye-
gones." " Very right, very proper," observes the governor ; not
quite understanding, howeyer, the object this cautious
dealer in aphorisms has in view.
The king's lips move once more.
The king says, " I have come to place my territory
under your protection."
"Delighted, my dear king, very sensible indeed, you
couldn't do better," says the governor, quite relieved at
the sudden turn matters have taken, and in the pleasant
surprise breaking away from the formal language of
diplomacy. "I think we might drink to that now," he
adds, in an aside to one of his staff. " It would perhaps
help the interview on a little. Do you drink champagne?"
he inquires of the king.
The latter is understood to reply that inclination and
the laws of hospitality alike forbid him to refuse the offer,
and accordingly a tray with that refreshment is at once
brought in. While this ceremony is being performed in
due state, North, who is next to me, says —
" Fine fellow, the king, isn't he ? Full of conscious
dignity, and abounding in the figurative language of the
primaeval savage. I am told that he fought against the
English in the Ashantee war and fought bravely too. It is

246 On a Surf-bound Coast.
sixty years since a king of Aquamu has been seen in Accra.
The last occasion was when one of this king's ancestors
came with his followers, took the castle by surprise, killed
the governor — it was in the hands of the Danes then — and
taking up his abode here ruled the surrounding country
under the Danish flag. Aquamu is in Ashantee, about
seventy miles inland, and is one of its most powerful
kingdoms." The governor is now observed to be talking to Mr. White,
who comes to Alford and says —
" The governor has heard that you have your camera
with you, and thinks it might be interesting to get a
photograph of his royal visitor. Do you think you could
manage to take one outside on the steps ? " And Alford
goes at once to fix up his apparatus.
The king has meanwhile scrupulously drained his glass
of champagne, having, however, taken the precaution of
making one of his retinue taste it first ; and the governor
sees that the taking of a photograph will be a useful
pretext for putting an end to this somewhat formidable
interview. The interpreter explains what the governor
wishes as well as he can, and obtains a hesitating consent
from the king. The steps run down from the balcony
outside the drawing-room to the terrace beneath, and the
governor and king take up a position together about half
way down the flight on the same step. The attendants
of each remain on the balcony above.
It is a strange experience for the king to be standing
thus side by side with the representative of the power
against which he had carried arms ; but stranger still is
the mysterious machine before him, which has the appear
ance of an insidious firearm. Conscious that it would not
be well to betray any alarm in the presence of the white
men, and aware that the eyes of his followers are bent

A Photographic Group. 247
upon him, he summons up all the self-control at his com
mand, and stands with his two hands folded in front of him,
his head inclined, and his gaze fixed steadfastly on the
funnel of the camera, as if he has resolved to keep his
ground, even should the instrument shoot forth thunder
bolts and brimstone. The governor is erect, bare-headed,
with hat in hand, not a little amused at the scene in which
he is taking part. There is a hush of voices, a trying
pause, the sharp click of the shutter, at which the king
gives an almost imperceptible start, in spite of his efforts
at self-control, and then the governor unbends, allows his
photographic smile to develop into one of genuine expan
sion, while he says something to the king, which, to judge
from the radiant expression^ "-companying it, is a humorous
congratulation on the succt ;ful issue of the ceremony.
The king replies with a sm\ 1 of relief, displaying his
perfect set of teeth, and banY-hing the anxious pucker
from his forehead.
Then begins the procession back, down the second flight
of steps, through the courtyard, along the double line of
Houssas, to the spot where the king's hammocks and his
four captains are awaiting him. Here there is a halt.
The governor says, " I am very glad to have seen you,
king." The king replies something to the effect that he
experiences equal pleasure, and then he shakes hands,
beginning with the governor, next with the governor's
staff, and finally with every white man present, except
myself, who, seeing the hearty grasp in which he takes
the hand, and remembering that mine is still tender from
the new rope, conceal myself behind some one else and
escape the ordeal. He then turns, walks with a sharp,
quick step towards his hammock, vaults into it with great
ease and agility, but with almost indecent haste, as if he
had hardly expected to get back there again alive, and

248 On a Surf-bound Coast.
would not feel quite safe till he was once more seated in
it, with his warriors around him. The procession moves
off to the music of the tomtoms and iron instruments,
when we also take leave of the governor and return to
Accra in a four-wheeled pony trap which has been sent
for us from the hotel.
By the time we reach the town the sun has sunk, and
on getting down to the beach the brief tropical twilight
is succeeded by darkness. The surf-boats are all high
up on the beach, not a single native boatman is visible,
and the roar of the breakers seems intensified by the
gloom of night. We walk back into the town, send for
a boatswain to get a crew together, and then go to the
hotel, as the principal place of public entertainment here
is pleased to call itself. Entering the courtyard, and
having mounted a flight of steps outside the house leading
up to a wide piazza, in the room adjoining we see the
native host just sitting down to dinner with several other
coloured gentlemen. They rise and make room for us,
and we are soon served with some fairly good fish, tender
mutton, tough chicken, and yams in the place of potatoes.
The yam when prepared for table is not unlike the potato
in appearance, being of white substance, but sweet, dry,
and very satisfying. Towards the end of dinner a fine
broad-shouldered native, with only the short waistcloth
on, appears at the folding doors leading on to the balcony,
and after a survey of the company, says to Mr. White, in
jerky nigger fashion, " Me boatswain. Boat ready now,
sar." " Very good, boatswain," replies Mr. White. "We won't.
keep you waiting long. Have something to drink."
" No, sar, tank you, sar," with melancholy self-abnega
tion. And the host explains, " They won't take anything

Through the Surf after Dark. 249
before starting. Boatswains have to be very careful and
keep all their wits about them. But I dare say he won't
refuse a drink when he has put you all safe on board."
We have now finished dinner, and once more start off
for the beach.
"It is a bad night> sar," remarks the boatswain to
Mr. White ; " much dark, sar."
" Yes, it is ; but you can take us off, I suppose."
" Yes, sar ; we take you, sar," he says simply, but in a
tone which inspires more confidence than his words alone
express. On the beach, with the aid of a lantern, they find their
boat, which is lying keel uppermost on the sands. It is
too heavy to carry or even to push, and they roll it over
and over, till they get within reach of the wash of the
spent breakers. Then they turn it head on to the sea
and carry us on their backs through the water to it. We
place ourselves on the narrow thwarts, and they take up
their position by the side of the boat — each man opposite
his seat — waiting for a swell to come large enough to
enable them to shove her off. After several unsuccessful
attempts, a big wash rushes up, the men give a shout,
we hear the keel grating against the sandy bottom, and
as they vault into their seats upon the gunwale, we feel
we are afloat.
"You had better put this macintosh over you," says
North, who is sitting next to me. " We are pretty
certain to ship some water further out. We got a ducking
coming off here before, on a finer night than this."
I thank him, and comply, preparing myself for any
emergency, from a few drops of spray to a swim in the
dark for the shore.
We are still in the comparatively calm water within
the line of rocks, and the men are paddling easily, wait-

250 On a Surf-bound Coast.
ing for the boatswain's word. The boatswain is standing
aft, with his steering oar grasped firmly in his hand,
gazing out into the darkness ahead, and counting,
apparently by instinct, the breakers. And now we are
nearing the narrow pass between the two rocks, the boat
swain has given the order, and is stamping with his foot,
while the men are dashing their paddles into the water at
fifty or sixty strokes a minute. As we are passing through
the outlet a dark shadow towers high above the bows, the
boatswain gives a skilful turn with his oar, we shoot, as
it seems, almost perpendicularly up a bank of water, and
then with a shout of triumph from the crew, we drop
safely on the other side, and in another thirty seconds we
are out of all danger, the men are resting on the gunwale
with their paddles on their knees, and panting after the
severe test of the last few minutes. After a short
interval they set off again, commencing one of their
native chants, varied every now and then by a curious
cry like a war whoop, as we ride securely over a larger
swell than usual. The chants are in a confused medley
of their native tongue and broken English, the latter
used chiefly to refer to the remuneration which they hope
to get at the end of the paddle, and which, by virtue of
the figure called " poetic license," they already reckon as
their own.
The soloist begins, "Massa dashy me fi' pun'," the
chorus repeating the last two words " fi' pun'," with varied
emphasis, according to the amount of faith each man
possesses in this golden prospect. Then, " Massa tippy
me ten pun'," "ten pun' " being taken up with still wilder
fervour, while the leader goes on increasing the amount
each verse, till he has come to an end of what he knows
of English reckoning. We dash up alongside with a
final burst of melody, and clamber up the pilot ladder,

A Native Improvisatore. 251
very grateful to be on board again without the anticipated
ducking. The men get their grog and their money, — not
quite the amount, it is true, mentioned in their impromptu
song, but as much, at any rate, as they appear to expect ;
and then, within ten minutes of being aboard, anchor is
weighed and we are under steam for Cape Coast Castle,
en route for the rendezvous at Grand Bassam,

252 On a Surf-bound Coast.

CHAPTEE XVII.
Cape Coast Castle — Jewellers and workers in native art — Jenkins on
monkeys — Grand Bassam — Arrival of the Copperfield— Home
news — Changing ships — Bavages in the wardrobe effected by the
climate — Paying out from Grand Bassam — A midnight meeting
in the ocean — Let go the final splice of the Grand Bassam-
Accra cable.
Tuesday, July 20th. — Soon after breakfast we reach Cape
Coast Castle. It is a wet morning, with a steady tropical
deluge of rain descending and obscuring the coast line,
as well as the horizon out to sea. We find three English
gunboats anchored off the town. Mr. White, with a few
of the more venturesome spirits, prepare to go ashore,
wrapped up in waterproofs and macintoshes. We who
remain on board amuse ourselves in bartering for objects
of art, which are being brought off from the town by
enterprising natives.
First of all there are the jewellers, the chief of whom is
a stout well-to-do nigger in a dark European suit, and
carrying his goods in a small wooden box. This box
contains gold brooches, earrings, bracelets, and rings.
Many of the rings and brooches are marked with curious
native hieroglyphics, which are supposed to have some
thing to do with the signs of the zodiac ; but for all an
ordinary observer can discover, might merely be letters of
an alphabet, such as Hebrew or Caldee. Some of the

Native Dealers in Works of Art. 253
brooches are of really pretty native filigree work. There
are silver ornaments as well, but not in such large quan
tities. The stout jeweller is very quiet and self-possessed,
takes up his quarters on one of the deck-seats aft, and
spreads his goods over a chart-table which is lying close
by. He talks good English, and doesn't appear at all
anxious for any one to buy anything. But if you get him
by himself and ask him the price of an article, he replies
in this fashion —
" The price of that brooch, sar ? Yes, sar ; two pound
ten, sar. Feel the weight of it. It weighs more than
two sovereigns. I will let you weigh it and apply acid
if you doubt its quality. It is a very pretty and. difficult
piece of work, and it does not repay me for the labour to
sell it at that price."
" I will give you two pounds for it."
" No, sar ; I could not take that." But just as you are
about to move off, he says, " Here, sar ; here it is. I am
letting you have it at weight price, without charging for
the cost of work ; but you must not tell any one else, or
my business will be ruined."
Two or three other jewellers, dressed in native costume,
walk about with their goods in a handkerchief, and waylay
you, pretending to offer you unheard of bargains.
Then there are the dealers in metal-work, bronze and
copper, offering for sale curious groups of ill-proportioned
figures, all facing one way, rigid and expressionless, like
the figures in an old Egyptian bas-relief. There is some
woodwork also, consisting of native stools, standing about
a foot in height above the ground, and curved inwards at
the top to give an appearance of greater comfort in use.
Natives are so accustomed to sitting on their haunches,
that in any artificial appliances for resting the body, those
which nearest approach that attitude are regarded as the

254 On a Surf-bound Coast.
most comfortable. The stools are quaintly carved, the
top part being supported by curious ogre-like figures, with
unnatural shape and size of limb, or else by more artistic
columns and ornamental towers. Sellers of parrots, mon
keys, and monkey skins, have found their way on board,
and are trying to dispose of their property.
Early in the afternoon the shore party return, looking
somewhat gloomy and draggled after their walk in the
rain. The natives are being turned off, as we expect to
weigh anchor shortly. A few of the more obstinate ones,
who have stuck to the price they first mentioned, retire,
carrying their ornaments sadly back again with them.
Others who have sold everything, run gaily down the com
panion, jump into their canoes, and, with the spirit of barter
still burning fiercely in them, stand up and, having nothing
else left, offer their paddles, and in one case even their
canoe, for sale. How, in the event of the latter being
bought, they proposed to get ashore was not very apparent,
though it is to be presumed that they would make an
effort to procure a passage in a friend's canoe, in prefer
ence to swimming to land among the sharks.
Jenkins has brought off another monkey from the
shore. " I can't make out," says Mr. Shirley, " what pleasure
you can find in keeping those animals. They are perhaps
one shade better than parrots, as they don't make quite
so much noise, but they are an awful nuisance. What
do you do with them ? "
" Why, the voyage before last, I brought a monkey
home and sent it to the ' Zoo.' They returned a formal
printed reply acknowledging the receipt of it, but adding
nothing else. I thought they might have said something,
considering it was a rare monkey ; and I had had a lot
of trouble to bring it home alive. On my return from my

Awaiting the "Copperfield." 255
next voyage, I wrote a letter from the docks to the
society, stating I had a monkey which I was anxious to
present to them. Well, a fellow turned up the following
day, saying he had come to take the monkey, and wanting
to see it. When I brought it out, he said —
" ' Is that the thing ? Why, that's a common green
jungle monkey. There are hundreds of 'em in England.
We thought you had a rare specimen. I shouldn't have
come down all this way, if I had known what we were
going to get.'
" ' Well,' I says, ' that makes us quits now, eh ? How
is that little beauty you got out of me twelve months
ago?'" We weigh anchor about five o'clock, and set on for
Grand Bassam, where we are to await the arrival of the
Copperfield. Wednesday, July 21st. — At 6 p.m. we let go anchor off
Grand Bassam. The Copperfield has not yet arrived.
Friday, July 23rd. — We have now been two days here,
and the Copperfield still fails to make her appearance.
The interval has enabled us to erect the cable hut on
shore, and to fit up the electrical instruments in it. On
board every one is getting impatient to be off. The
Thraeia has been rolling continuously day and night
under the heavy swell which breaks in surf along the
whole coast line. But we are becoming accustomed to it,
and should not notice how much we were rolling if we had
not the hulk lying just ahead of us, and swinging from
one side to the other to an angle from which recovery
appears impossible.
About eleven o'clock in the morning, the smoke of a
steamer is seen in the far west horizon. As an outward

2 j 6 On a Surf-bound Coast.
bound mail is expected to-day, we cannot tell whether
the steamer will prove to be this or the Copperfield. Con
sequently, every available glass is had in requisition and
kept rigorously on the spot of smoke. Various are the
opinions hazarded, as first her masts and then her hull
comes into sight.
"That's the mail," says one; "as she's only got two
masts, while the Copperfield has three."
" No ; it's a British gunboat : you can tell by the size
and colour."
" I believe it's the Livonia. It's just her lines and
rigging." " Well," says Jenkins, " I maintain that it's the Copper-
field ; and I am prepared to back my opinion, evens, with
any gentleman present."
" Eight you are," cry two of the former speakers ; and
the glasses are laid aside to make the necessary entries,
everything of that sort being done with all due form and
ceremony on board the Thraeia. But no sooner were
these transactions concluded, than it became evident that
the ship, in sight was no other than the Copperfield, as the
bright red buoys on the hurricane deck, snowing dis
tinctly above the white hull, declare her to be. She
heads straight for us with a ponderous, uneasy roll, like
some gigantic sea-monster, unwieldy in its huge propor
tions. Her outline increases steadily till she comes up to
us, when she swings round and anchors a short distance to
our west. Mr. White, with two or three others, go off
to her in the gig, while we try to recognise our friends on
board through the glasses. Soon we see a signal flag
waving on the quarter-deck; and, on acknowledging it
with another flag, they send —
" Don't you want to know the news ? "
We reply, " Certainly ; go ahead," and they give us

Orders to transfer. 257
a brief resume of all the home news up to the date of their
starting. Jenkins shortly returns from her, and says, " They all
seem well on board, and the fourth officer is as cheerful
as ever. When I saw him, I said, ' Well, Higgins, what's
the latest ? ' ' The latest ? Oh, yes — -here it is ; ' and he
rips out two music-hall songs fresh- from London before
I had time to get in a single other word. I saw my two
friends from Conakri, M. Noirtier and M. Dessouls. They
joined the Copperfield at Sierra Leone. They've got a
new doctor on board. He's only got one stripe. I don't
know that I shall have much confidence in him."
Later, several of them pay us a visit, and we have the
news confirmed in person. Coming straight out from
home, they have not yet got acclimatised, and seem to
feel the heat badly, much more so than we do, who have
now become accustomed to it.
Saturday, July 24th. — This morning all the staff but
Morgan, who has not yet completely recovered from his
fall, and most of the cable hands except a few invalids,
receive orders to transfer to the Copperfield. The doctor
and the officers of course remain with their ship, which
is expected to return home before long.
Soon after breakfast three of our large surf-boats begin
plying to and fro between the ships, loaded heavily with
trunks and boxes, the owners crowded aft or sitting on
the top of them. The uproar among the parrots, which
ordinarily is sufficient to interfere to a great extent with
work and comfort in the testing-room, on this occasion
reaches a climax. They soon perceive that something
unusual is going on, and communicate their views on the
subject to each other in the most piercing and continuous
screams. The captain of the Copperfield, who bas already
s

258 On a Surf bound Coast.
quite enough parrots on board among his own men, re
gards this noisy invasion of fresh ones with displeasure,
and limits the' number to be brought on board to one
bird for each man. Consequently about two-thirds of
them have to be left on board the Thraeia, or else done
away with. There is considerable difficulty in getting
those who remain on board of her to take charge of them,
as they have already several of their own. So there must
have been a decimation in their ranks, and several times
I observed lifeless forms floating past the ship's side from
the direction of the bows.
We are engaged in packing during most of the morn
ing, and unsuspected revelations of the havoc worked by
the climate on different articles of wardrobe are brought
to light. Various are the complaints made, as first one
and then another discovers some fresh devastation as he
brings his property from the depths of his cabin to pack
in his trunk outside in the saloon.
" Look here," says Alford, " I was wearing this pair of
boots two days ago ; and they have only lain in the cabin
that time, and now they are covered with mildew."
" Well, that's nothing," remarks Tyrrell. " On opening
my box, which I had specially constructed in tin and lined
with wood, I find all my clothes mildewed. Look at this
uniform jacket, quite new ; only worn it twice, and all the
buttons gone green."
" I say, this is too bad ! " complains Harvey in an in
jured tone. "I was particularly recommended this tin
uniform cap-box for damp climates. That is how it pre
serves them," holding up a cap all white with mildew.
Clothes kept in drawers or packed in leather trunks
suffer the most ; and the climate is such that a coat left
hanging in a cabin with the port open quickly absorbs
enough moisture as to almost require wringing. It is

Changing Ships. 259
impossible to keep cigars or tobacco in good condition
except in the engine-room, which is the only place on
board ship where the air is dry. Tobacco especially gets
so damp that it cannot be smoked, and if left in either
tin or wooden boxes rapidly becomes mildewed.
The packing is finished by lunch time, and by four
o'clock the last batch of us start off, perched on the top
of an unusually large pile of luggage. As the westerly
current is not so strong here, the Copperfield is swinging
head on to the rollers, which run washing up along her
deep sides, and render it useless to attempt to get on
board by the gangway. A pilot ladder hangs over the
bulwarks from the quarter-deck, and we have to approach
it with great caution, being at one time raised almost on
a level with the scuppers, and then dropping some twenty
feet below as the roll goes past. The ship is so heavily
laden that she does not appear to rise at all under the
influence of the swell. Those who are already safely on
board come and, leaning over the bulwarks, watch with
unfeeling satisfaction our many efforts one by one to
seize the ladder at the right moment and scramble up
on deck. We manage, however, all to get on board
without any mishap, and the luggage is soon hauled up
after us.
It is always a curious sensation changing from one ship
to another, which varies in proportion to the length of
time one has been on board the first ship, and also accord
ing to the difference in size and build between the two.
We have been eight weeks on board the Thraeia. She
is not a large ship — being about 1800 tons — but she is
very nicely fitted up, and comfortable in every way. At
this time, too, she is light, having got rid of nearly all
her cable. The Copperfield, in contrast, is nearly 5000
tons, fully loaded with over 2000 miles of cable on board,

260 On a Surf-bound Coast.
and drawing 30 feet of water. We notice the difference
directly we set foot on board of her. She is so heavy
that the rollers run past without any movement being
perceptible, and she rides dull and lifeless, like a lump
of lead. On the Thraeia, for the last few weeks, we have
been in continuous motion, rolling unceasingly when
lying broadside, and when head on, as she is now, rising
and falling as each swell passes by. It seems as if we
had left a vessel endowed with life and action to board
an inert hull laden with dull inanimate machinery. Over
the wide expanse of quarter-deck, the numbers, though
nearly double what they were on board the Thraeia,
appear few and scattered, giving the ship a gloomy and
deserted air.
There are two saloons aft, about the same size, one on
each side of the ship, and connected by a passage. On
going down into the port saloon I am struck by its lofty
and almost palatial appearance, after the small one on
board the Thraeia. The steward shows me to a large
double-bunked cabin — which I am to have to myself —
opening into this saloon, and with one port looking into
the square space immediately above the engines. The
proximity of these makes the cabin very hot, and alto
gether the ship appears to be several degrees higher
temperature than the other. Afternoon tea affords me
a temporary relief, and later, when I have settled things a
little in my new quarters, I return to deck only to find
it more deserted than before. I ask one of the two
solitary occupants who are sitting reading where every
one has gone to, as I saw no one in either of the saloons.
They display but a languid interest in the problem, look
up, look round, and then look down again, one of them
saying, as he continues his novel, "Don't know, I'm sure.
They were all here a little while ago."

Facilities for Disappearance. 261
It is one of the chief features of the Copperfield the
ease with which people disappear on board of her. This
is especially noticeable when you are in a great hurry to
find a particular person as soon as possible. In this case,
half an hour is often consumed before you come upon his
track. Of course it is to be accounted for by her size
and the number of ways and passages leading from one
part of the ship to another. For instance, while you are
going down the companion into the starboard saloon, the
object of your search may be walking up the companion
from the port saloon. Or if you enter the passage lined
with cabins — running into the saloon — from the saloon
end, he may be leaving it by the hatchway leading on to
deck at the other end. Then, if you go along the main
deck to look for him, he may be walking over your head
along the hurricane-deck, not to mention the numerous
cabins and rooms he may be concealed in — a chart-room,
a hydrographical-room, and an engineering-room, all on
the bridge, and below the hurricane deck a testing-room,
a chemical-room, and one or two other similar offices.
After half an hour has elapsed in this fruitless search,
you sit down somewhere in despair, and wait till fortune
throws him across your path.
The facility thus afforded for disappearance does not
apply to persons only, but often occurs in the case of
cargo. Buoys, grapnels, long lengths of drum lines, and
even huts conceal themselves mysteriously ; while on one
occasion, on a return trip from America, in which she was
bringing back a cargo of grain, on reaching home a trifle,
consisting of a hundred tons of wheat, could not be found,
and turned up some months after in one of her numerous
pockets, which happened to have been overlooked at the
time. After dinner I have a solemn game of chess with.

262 On a Surf bound Coast.
Jenkins, not because I am fond of it, but because it seems
to accord with my present subdued feelings. Jenkins
is a good player, and allows more gratification to escape
him on winning than I think becoming towards so
unpractised an opponent.
Sunday, July 25th. — We are leaving Grand Bassam to
day, and are going to pay out cable towards Accra. M.
Dessouls is sent ashore here in order to communicate with
Accra when we have laid the cable. He goes off quite
happily, although by himself, and to a station which
boasts of barely half a dozen Europeans.
We generally seem to commence our various under
takings on a Sunday. It is a curious coincidence, but not
at all to be deplored in expeditions where it is impossible
to observe the Sabbath, as there is something invigorating
in beginning the week in such good earnest. We reach
the buoy about 8 a.m., and by 10 a.m. the splice is finished,
and the Copperfield commences laying her first section
this voyage in the direction of Accra. The Thraeia has
already gone on ahead to anchor at a certain point on
the line we have to run, and give us the benefit of her
electric light to steer by during the night.
My first watch is from 4 to 8 p.m. with an interval
at 6.30 for dinner. The testing-room of the Copperfield
is amidships on the main deck, directly beneath the bridge,
and is hotter than the one of the Thraeia, being shut in
from the breeze by the hurricane deck. It is also darker ;
but that is not a great inconvenience, as a well lighted
testing-room has to be darkened in order that the spot of
light on the scale should be visible. At eight o'clock
I am relieved. Everything has settled down on deck by
this time ; the cable is running out quietly and smoothly,
and the men on watch are standing, composed and motion-

Midnight Meeting. 263

less at their posts, as if they had been engaged in paying
out cable for the last month or two, instead of having only
commenced this morning. Aft, there are one or two occu
pants of the quarter-deck in their easy chairs apparently
asleep, soothed by the ring of the running sheaves, the
splash of the water, and the distant rumble of the breaks.
I turn in early on account of my morning watch from
four to eight.
At midnight I am called by the jointer from the testing-
room. He tells me that the Thracia's light has just
become visible, and I am wanted to signal to her on the
Morse lamp a message about her further movements.
The signalling is supposed to be done by the electrical
staff, and, of course, the one on watch could not leave
the testing-room for it. He gives me the message and
the Morse lamp, and I make my way along the hurricane
deck to the bow-baulks. A Morse lamp is simply a
powerful hand lantern with a dark shutter in front, which
can be moved up and down so as to give long or short
flashes of light to represent the dots and dashes of the
Morse code. When I reach the bows, the Thraeia is still a
long way off, and the arc light, which is suspended from her
mast, is only a glimmering bluish white spot. However,
I begin giving call signals on my lamp, and presently,
just below the arc light, appears a little yellow light,
which, by the way it flickers and twinkles, we know to
be a Morse lamp answering us, though at present too far
off to read. But, as we get nearer, the electric light
shines out more and more brightly, dulling the light of
the small hand lamp below and finally making it quite
invisible. We signal to them that we cannot read on
account of this, and they turn off their arc light and then
our message is duly dispatched. They have a little
difficulty in getting the name of the point where they are

264 On a Surf-bound Coast.
to anchor next, which is " Tantanquerry," but they receive
it the second attempt, being probably aided in recognising
it by the navigating officer.
By this time the Copperfield has almost reached the
Thraeia, which is swinging at anchor right across our
eourse, and our captain takes us close astern so as to be
within hailing distance of her. The arc light is again
burning, and throws a flood of clear bright light over the
whole length of the Thraeia, so that we can recognise
the captain and the first officer on the bridge and three
motionless figures on the deck below, leaning over the
bulwarks — one with the Morse lamp — and watching our
approach. As the Copperfield, steaming at the laying rate
of six or seven knots an hour, rolls ponderously up in,
as it now appears, the inky blue water, she, too, is
illumined by the brilliant light, and from my position I
can see Mr. White and the captain on our bridge hailing
the Thraeia as we pass. Mr. White has only just time
to repeat the orders in the message sent on the Morse
lamp, and the Thraeia is already left behind, while our
deck again becomes involved in gloom.
Monday, July 26th. — Paying out cable all day. Things
are very different on board when we are engaged in laying
to what they are in the intervals between. Meals no
longer remain the social gatherings they were before.
One-half of the table is absent during the first part, and
the other half during the second, and all wear a look of
real or assumed hurry and preoccupation. The deck, too,
has a changed aspect. The starboard side of the quarter
deck is entirely monopolised by the running cable, and the
port side seldom boasts of more than two or three occu
pants at a time. The saloons, except during meals, seem
equally deserted. It is not that every one is on watch,

Relieving Watch. 265
for never more than half the staff would be so at one
time. In fact, it is always a mystery what becomes of
those who are not on duty. They are hardly ever to be
found together. Some, perhaps, turn in on every avail
able occasion, and pass the time in sweet unconsciousness.
Others may wander back from sheer ennui to the scene
of their late engrossing occupation, and silently criticise,
like a free lance of the opposition, the work of their
successors. I turn in early again this evening, though, as far as
obtaining any rest is concerned, I might as well have
remained up. The heat, which always seems more op
pressive when recumbent, and the dull thud of the pistons
in the engine-room combine to keep me awake, and I have
not had more than two hours rest when the jointer calls
me for my watch at 3.45 a.m. On my way to the testing-
room under the hurricane deck, I pause at the aft tank,
from which the cable is running out. Little impression
has been made upon the thousand miles with which
the tank was laden on leaving Grand Bassam. It is
brightly lit up by a cluster of incandescent lamps sus
pended in the centre and a row of single ones round the
sides. In the tank standing on the coiled cable, are a
dozen cable hands watching the cable as it runs out from
underneath the lower crinoline, and removing the strips
of wood between each flake. The crinoline is a circular
iron frame which is lowered as the level of the cable in
the tank sinks, in order to steady it and prevent it coiling
into kinks as it rises rapidly to the top of the tank. Eun
ning round the top is a handrail, and over this on one
side leans the cable foreman watching the progress of
the work and occasionally issuing orders to the men below.
On the other side are a miscellaneous collection of men
of the relieving watch, several cable hands, three or four

266 On a Surf-bound Coast.
sailors, a couple of firemen, and a steward, with tray and
empty glasses, watching the cable running out. Suddenly
eight bells is rung, and the gathering at once disperses ;
the cable hands descend the ladders into the tank, the
sailors go forward in answer to the boatswain's whistle,
the firemen move reluctantly towards the " fiery furnace "
which they feed, and the steward disappears down a
hatchway leading to the pantry.
I find the occupant of the testing-room pacing uneasily
up and' down, with one eye on the scale the other on the
door. He greets me effusively, gives me a few particulars
with regard to the character of the readings, and then
withdraws with a sigh of unfeigned relief.
By the end of my watch they have reached the buoyed
shore end off Accra, and before noon we are anchored off
that town, having let go the final splice and completed
the cable from Grand Bassam to Accra.

( 267 )

CHAPTEE XVIII.
I receive orders to land at Accra — Quarters at the hotel — A native
family party — A carriage and six-^Commenee watch at the hut
— Wesleyan chapel conducted by natives — A wide guess at my
host's age — The twin servants Oko and Aqueti-^ Visit to the
governor at Christiansborg.
Thursday, July 29th. — Yesterday we were fitting up the
electrical instruments in the cable hut on shore, and this
morning I receive orders to go ashore to keep watch there
while the cable is being laid from Accra to Cutanu — a
French possession about two hundred miles east along
the coast — and thence across to the Portuguese island of
S. Thome, nearly on the equator, a distance altogether
of seven hundred miles. I hear that Mr. Schultzer, a
German, one of the electrical staff who came out on the
Copperfield, is also coming, and that we shall probably be
joined by M. Noirtier.
Shortly after breakfast Mr. Schultzer and I descend
the gangway into a surf-boat, into which our luggage has
been previously put, and waving adieu to our friends, we
start off for the shore. It is a lovely morning, with a
cool breeze, and the graceful figures of the native boat
men sitting in their side-saddle fashion on the gunwale
show to advantage as they swing leisurely and without
an effort to and fro, laughing and chattering in their
native tongue among themselves, their dark skins, un-

268 On a Surf-bound Coast.
covered to the loins, shining brightly in the dazzling
sun. We land without any misadventure in the surf, have
some difficulty about getting a pass for our luggage at
the small hut above, which does duty for a custom
house, and then go on with it to Dyce's hotel. Here we
choose our quarters, which are very clean, and brighter
looking than I expected, the sitting-room being adorned
with the well-known prints of Millais', several portraits
of the royal family, and an engraving of Lord Wolseley,
who, of course, is especially remembered on the Gold
Coast. When we have made our arrangements we set
out to the hut, exposed to an unpleasantly hot midday
sun, which is nearly vertical, and whose rays penetrate
my white umbrella lined with green, and pour through
on to my head and shoulders.
The hut is about a mile from the hotel, on the beach
between Accra and Christiansborg. We turn down a
bye-road off the main road after passing two rows of
native huts facing each other. This is the convict settle
ment, guarded by a detachment of Houssas. At the end of
this bye-road is the powder magazine, also under the- pro
tection of some Houssas, and at a very little distance, built
in a dip of the undulating coast line stands our hut, close
by to which the hut of the other company is now erected.
Here we find our chief electrician, Mr. Parry, engaged
in testing the completed cable from Grand Bassam to
Accra. As there is nothing for us to do till that is over,
I take the opportunity of writing some letters to catch
the home mail which leaves to-morrow. We have the
hut to ourselves about four o'clock, soon after which,
M. Noirtier, who has landed with his possessions from
the Thraeia, makes his appearance at the door, his sun
helmet thrown on the back of his head, and mopping the

At the Cable Hut. 269
streaming perspiration from his brows. He seems, how
ever, in good spirits, and after exchanging salutations,
1 with his French accent and intonation —
" Mr. White, he comes to me this morning, and he says,
' M. Noirtier, you go shore here for a week, or fortnight,
or perhaps six weeks.' Very well. It is the same to me.
I come shore here for a week, a fortnight, or six weeks.
Very good."
We now set about putting the hut in order, and while
so engaged receive a visit from a good-looking native,
who is accompanied by two girls, their hair neatly done
in the native fashion, and secured by gorgeous gold pins.
He expresses a wish to see the " telegraph," and, as the
instruments are not at work, we give him a strip of Morse
paper, with some dots and dashes printed on it, and they
go away highly delighted with so visible and tangible a
curiosity. We leave the hut about six o'clock, and return to the,
hotel, where we find North, who has come off to stay at
Accra a short time to make the necessary arrangements
about the station. We sit down to dinner with Mr. Dyce,
the host, a coloured gentleman on his right whom we
take to be his brother, and a dark barrister of the name
of Jackson, who, we hear, practises at Cape Coast Castle,
Accra, and Lagos.
Friday, July 30th. — I am called at six o'clock, and
shortly afterwards some cocoa and buttered toast is
brought to me. This combination seems more suitable
for a cold frosty day in England than for the heated
atmosphere of the Gold Coast, within four degrees of the
equator ; but as it appears to form the customary refresh
ment here at this time of the morning, I take it and do
not find it disagreeable.

270 On a Surf-bound Coast.
From my open window I can see across the road into
the yard of a native hut, which is surrounded by a six-
foot mud wall. The thatched roof reaches down to
within five feet of the ground, and on the side which
faces us there is a small square hole in the wall which
does duty as a window, and a rickety wooden door, which,
when opened, swings unevenly and loosely on its hinges.
In front of the window, planted in the ground, stands a
piece of woodwork in the shape of a stem and several
truncated branches scraped white, with black figures
branded on by a red-hot instrument. This is apparently
designed for ornamental rather than useful purposes, the
only object for which it could be devoted being to hang
hats on. But such visitors as do appear, when they
happen to possess hats, seem to prefer keeping them on
their heads to adorning their neighbour's stand with them.
In the yard the family party is gathered, basking in
the morning sun. The prominent figure of the group is
an old native with grizzled wool, whom I take to be the
grandfather, or the great grandfather of the family. He
is the only one accommodated with a seat, which is a
native stool only a foot high from the ground. He must
have been a fine fellow some seventy or eighty years
ago, but now the flesh has left his frame, his cheeks are
hollow, only a few teeth are visible in front, and as he
wears nothing but the waist-cloth, every rib in his body
can be seen standing out distinct. But in spite of this
physical decay, he appears to have lost no vivacity of
intellect, for he engrosses the whole of the conversation,
accompanying it with wild and varied gesticulations!
The rest of the family are sitting or lying on the smooth
floor of the yard— which is merely clay burnt hard as
concrete under the action of the tropic sun— silent, and
apparently but little interested in the old man's eloquent

A Carriage and Six. 271
harangue. The younger members, from ten years of age
downwards, are playing round the others in all the un
adorned simplicity of nature.
Along the road between us there is a continuous stream
of women, with large earthenware pitchers on their heads,
filled to the brim with water, and carried so smoothly
and steadily that not a drop is spilt. These women are
coming into the town, and there is a corresponding stream
returning with their empty pitchers. They are all bare
footed, and for the most part, have a baby slung behind
their backs. This road leads to an open space adjoining
another side of the hotel, and walking along the verandah,
I find this space in possession of a lot of old women,
boiling down palm-oil in earthen jars over wooden fires,
and quarrelling and shouting so loudly as to drown every
other noise in the vicinity. While the women are thus
engaged fetching water and preparing palm-oil, their
husbands stroll about in gay-coloured garments, or stand
in groups gossiping at the corners of the streets, never
thinking of doing anything for their subsistence, but
living on the labour of their wives.
We have breakfast at eleven o'clock, and then get a
few things ready to take with us to the hut, as we expect
to stay there for the next eight or ten days. -We ask the
hotel keeper if he has got a conveyance to take us down
there. He tells us that his pony is in use just now, but
that he can send us down in a pony carriage drawn by
natives. On going down we find an old, shabby-looking,
four-wheeled pony trap in charge of six niggers, four of
whom take the shafts, and two push behind. They rattle
us along at a merry rate through the principal streets,
shouting to the small children to get out of the way,
and we reach the hut in very good time. We had been
told to expect the Copperfield off the buoyed shore end

272 On a Suifboimd Coast.
towards Cutanu at noon, but it is past that time already,
and we can see the two ships still at anchor off Accra.
It is a fine day, and having nothing to do at present in
the hut, we sit outside under the very narrow strip of
shade thrown by it, and watch the huge breakers rolling
in to within thirty feet of where we are.
It is not long, however,, before we observe both ships
to be under way, and while the Copperfield makes for
the buoy, the Thraeia sets her head due east, apparently
going on first so as to anchor at a given point, and act as
a pilot light during the night, as she did before. We
go into the hut, have a final look round at the instru
ments to make sure that nothing has been neglected, and
then settle down to watch on the mirror for the ship to
call. But no signals come, and we look out a good many
times to see what is happening, and if the ship is still
there. At last, between four and five, a call-signal is
received, and, after a few communications, the ship begins
paying out, and regular continuity signals are com
menced. These signals are given from the hut by allow
ing the current applied to the cable from the battery
on board to enter a condenser in the hut, the strength of
the current being indicated by the deflections of the two
galvanometers which are in circuit, one on board, and the
other in the hut. The condenser is discharged imme
diately, ready for the next signal, the interval between
them being five minutes.
At seven o'clock a servant from the hotel arrives with
our dinner, packed in a large wooden tray. We are all
able to do justice to it, myself included, although it is my
watch, ^and I have constantly to rise to give the five-
minute signals. After dinner we prepare our two camp
bedsteads, on which two of us turn in an hour or so later
while the third remains on watch.

¦ The Morning Watch. 273
Saturday, July 31st. — At 4 a.m. punctually, Noirtier
calls me up for my watch ; and, turning in, is fast asleep
before I am quite awake. However, I am in time for the
next continuity signal, and soon get thoroughly aroused
and wide awake. The first hour and a half of the morn
ing watch is not pleasant, as it is still dark outside, and
there is an uncomfortable, been-up-all-the-night sort of
look about the lamps and the various objects in the hut.
It is not easy to read a book, as one's eye is always wan
dering up to the clock. If one has an interesting novel
it may prove too absorbing to admit of a regular dispatch
of the signals. If one tries to .improve one's mind by
reading a serious work, the clock is found to attract more
attention than the book. It is not advisable to sit down
without any occupation at all, at any rate in a comfortable
chair, as there is a considerable chance of one's falling to
sleep again. The only thing to do is to get up occasion
ally and walk about, although the space for such exercise
is extremely limited, when there are two camp beds in
use, and it is also apt to lead to expostulations from those
in possession of them, being accompanied, as it usually is,
with a loud creaking and violent swaying of the boards of
the floor.
At half-past five I go to the door, and surprise the
watchman we have engaged asleep outside. We wanted
some one to look after some cases and other property, for
which there was no room in the hut, and also to be at
hand during the night if we required to send a message
to the town, so we engaged an old nigger whom the
hotel keeper recommended for the post. When he hears
me he jumps up, pulls himself together, and repeating
" All right, sar ; all right here, sar," two or three times
very rapidly, he tries to look as if he had not slept a wink
all night. The hut is built on low ground, very little
T

2 74 On a Surf-bound Coast.
above the level of the sea. Hanging all round is a dense
white mist, so thick that I can only see a short distance
from the hut. Through this mist the gray morning light
begins to penetrate, but the sun has not yet appeared
above the eastern horizon. The mist does not lift till
eight o'clock ; and then, as it is the end of my watch, I
go and take a hurried dip in the sea, not quite liking the
look of the breakers a little distance from the shore.
Our day servant, who calls himself Sua, has relieved the
watchman ; and, having boiled the water on our oil stove,
makes some coffee, which is very welcome after the bathe.
Our breakfast appears, at eleven o'clock; and soon after
noon I set out for a walk to the town, where I see North
at the hotel, and get back again to the hut in time for
my watch at four. At dinner we fare rather badly, as
they have neglected to send either bread or wine, and
Accra water by itself is not very inviting, although we
are- provided with a large stone filter. I turn in soon
after nine o'clock, but am roused at eleven, and hear that
the ship has reached Cutanu, is about to buoy the cable,
and will not require us to begin watching again till
Monday at noon. Noirtier and I being already in posses
sion of the two beds which lie alongside of each other,
Schultzer takes up a middle position between the two,
and gravitates ponderously from one side to the other
during the rest of the night.
Sunday, August 1st. — We leave the hut this morning
soon after nine and go to the hotel, where we intend to
spend the night. Here Noirtier finds a countryman of
his, who takes him off to breakfast with him at the rival
hotel. Schultzer goes off to call at the German mis
sionary station, and North has not yet turned out.
Being thus left to myself, and hearing that breakfast will

A Native Service. 275
not be till noon, as the host and the dark gentlemen
staying at the hotel have gone to church, I set out for a
walk to pass the intervening time.
When I reach the open space in front of the fort, I
hear loud strains of music proceeding from a large build
ing nearly opposite, and going nearer I find it to be a
Wesleyan chapel. I ascend some stone steps, and pause
just within the open doorway. No sooner have I made
my appearance than a native verger offers to show me to
a seat, while the polite gentleman in gold-rimmed spec
tacles I met on my visit to the agent's, who is located in
a side seat high up in the chapel, catches sight of me,
and sends a special messenger for the same purpose.
I decline both offers with thanks, and continue to inspect
the building and its occupants from my independent
position at the doorway. It is a fine lofty structure made
of stone, with large French windows down each side
reaching almost to the ground, fastened back, but with
Venetian shutters meeting across on the side exposed to
the sun, to keep out the heat, allowing at the same time
what breeze there is stirring outside to penetrate within.
Old-fashioned pews with doors run down each side of the
chapel, but modern seats cover the body of it. The men
sit on one side and the women on the other. There is
not a single white man in the building. As I enter, they
are engaged in singing the Te Leum to the accompani
ment of a harmonium. The whole congregation joins in
with great fervency ; the voices of the men being par
ticularly powerful and resonant, vibrating at the end of
each verse like a band of strident brass instruments, and
showing the same deplorable inability to keep in time as
they do when played by German street musicians. The
men are dressed for the most part in native style, in their
clean cotton togas with the right shoulder exposed, and

276 On a Surf-bound Coast.

looking very picturesque, as they enter with easy, noise
less step, erect carriage, and a long staff in their right
hand. On the women's side I notice especially a young
mother leaning gracefully forward, with elbows resting on
the high back of the pew in front of her, displaying a
pair of gold bracelets on her bare wrists, a coral necklace
showing to advantage on her well-moulded neck and
shoulders ; while the little baby, tucked securely in, is fast
asleep behind. They are all very quiet and well behaved ;
but none of the poorer class use books. In the centre,
and at the further end of the chapel, are the richer class
of natives, dressed in European fashion — the men better
than the women; for the latter are decked out in ill-
fitting cotton dresses and extraordinary shaped straw
hats with large bunches of artificial flowers in them, such
as might have been in fashion among the lower class in
England some thirty years ago. A gray-haired native is
conducting the service in the English tongue.
I leave when he is beginning to read a lesson, and go
over to the English church opposite, which is an ill-made
wooden shed covered with tar outside. The Wesleyans
in Accra, as in all places down the coast, are in a large
majority, and include in their numbers the wealthiest and
most influential natives. I just look in through the door
and see a meagre congregation of the lower class of natives,
a cold service with a native parson, and only one European
in the church.
Outside on a board are several notices, among them a
Government one, which runs thus : " Escaped from Cape
Coast Castle a prisoner, complexion black, hair black,
short nose, thick lips, etc." The authorities refrain from
mentioning his nationality, for fear, I suppose, of wound
ing the susceptibilities of the natives on that point.

Guessing a Native's Age. 277
They all call themselves, and wish to be called English
men. Another notice announces that —
" String Brothers, photographers and artists, having just
arrived from the leeward towns — meaning the eastern, as
the prevalent wind is from the west — are prepared to take
individuals or family groups at their studio, at 55, Bread
Street, Accra."
I did not see any notices about church services.
On getting back to the hotel I find North seated on
the piazza reading and smoking a morning pipe. He
asks me where I have been. And then the host and
Jackson, the barrister, return together from church ; the
former decked out in a tall hat, light check trousers, and
a frock coat, which sits well on his really good figure.
" Dressed quite in park fashion, aren't they ? " remarks
North, when they have disappeared. " Dyce looks tip
top. Now, what age do you think he is ? "
" Well, it's very hard to tell ; but judging by his figure
and carriage, I should put him down at thirty."
" That is what I took him to be, but I was informed
yesterday that he is fifty-two, and that the middle-aged
looking man we took for his eldest brother turns out to
be his eldest son."
" He is in remarkable preservation for fifty-two."
" Yes ; but it is hard for a stranger to judge a
native's age.^ Dyce has not got a gray hair in his head,
he has as perfect a set of white teeth as the most healthy
3 oung man could boast of at twenty, his figure is slight
and active, and it is impossible to note anything from the
eye, as they all seem equally bloodshot and discoloured
in that member."
" Well, if he looks like that at fifty, he will be quite
a handsome middle-aged man at seventy-five."
"How are you, Mr. Jackson?" says North, as that
gentleman passes on the way to his room.

278 On a Surf-bound Coast.
" Very well, thank you, sar. You have not been to
church, I see."
" No, I have been rather busy this morning, you know.
Have they got breakfast ready yet ? "
" It will be served in ten minutes ; I am going to my
room to read my Bible till then. It is a practice I try
to observe every day."
"And a very good custom, too; but I am afraid you
will be rather hurried." And only five minutes elapsed
before we were all seated at the table, Jackson havino-
had to shorten his daily exercise by at least half its
intended length.
Two servants wait at breakfast, both dressed in the
same pattern cotton cloth from waist to knee. Thev are
the same height, and so much alike, that I cannot see any
difference even when they are side by side. I am told
they are twins, and that one is called Oko, and the other
Aqueti ; but I never know which is which, and they them
selves don't seem very decided on the point. During the
meal the host is affable and pleasant, displaying great
powers of polite conversation on a wonderful variety of
topics. After breakfast, the first to leave the table is Jackson,
who, although a thick-set, powerful-looking man, announces
that he is going to lie down on his bed, as sitting up in
church has made his back ache.
" Sitting up at table, he means," remarks North in an
aside to me, " considering the enormous quantity of food
he has managed to absorb in the short time he has been
present there."
Later in the afternoon, North and I set off in the pony
carriage drawn by natives to call on the governor at
Christiansborg. He receives us very heartily, and after
a talk in the drawing-room, which is the first room I

Christiansborg Castle. 2 79
have seen since leaving England which recalls, with its
elegant furniture and sweet-smelling bouquets of flowers,
an English home, he takes us round the house. The
original building was constructed by the Danes at the
beginning of this century, but was partially destroyed by
an earthquake in 1820. In 1873, the settlement was
sold, together with Elmina, to the English. The castle
is built on a rock which was formerly some little distance
out to sea, but is now washed and partly surrounded by the
waves. We go out on to a fine balcony behind, with the
big rollers breaking some forty feet immediately beneath
us, and turtles swimming about in the calmer water
beyond. The governor says the castle is situated in a very
damp position, as it is exposed to the moist sea breezes,
when the wind blows inland, and also to the mist which
rises from the lagoon just behind it, when the wind blows
out to sea. He calls our attention to the Venetian shutters
outside the French windows leading on to- the balcony,
which are dripping with water as if they had been out in
a shower of rain. Then we descend into the courtyard
below, in the middle of which is a large deep tank,
cemented all round, to store the rain water, on which supply
the inhabitants at Accra and Christiansborg are entirely
dependent, there being no streams or wells from which to
procure fresh drinking water. The governor tells us that
the rainy season commenced a month ago, but that they
have had no rain as yet, and people were getting anxious
as the tanks were nearly empty. He also informs us that
the most unhealthy time of the year is from January to
June, at which period the fever is particularly malignant
and rapid in its effects. From the courtyard we cross
over to the kitchen garden opposite the castle on the site
of the old town, which was destroyed at the time of the
king of Aquamu's invasion. Here the governor has con-

280 On a Surf-bound Coast.
trived to grow, in spite of the disadvantages of climate, a
great variety of European vegetables side by side with
tropical fruits. A large rain water tank in the middle
affords a supply of fresh water for the plants.
The sun is now setting, and by the time we have taken
leave of the governor and re-entered the pony trap, the
brief tropical climate has been succeeded by almost com
plete darkness. Our team of half a dozen natives trot
merrily along, and North, with a view, I suppose, of making
me feel comfortable, and of enhancing the pleasure of the
drive, relates how a seven-foot cobra was seen to cross
this very road a day or two ago, and how only this
morning the trunk of a native was discovered lying by
the side, at several paces distant from its head. How
ever, we get back in safety, and I enjoy a good night's
rest at the hotel, undisturbed by dreams.

( 281 )

CHAPTER XIX.
A " Comedy of Errors " — One of the inconveniences of drought — A
son of Tom Peter, King of the Kroomen — The value of a creak —
An Accra farmyard — The law courts — A bewildered prisoner —
Interpreting, as a fine art.
Monday, August 2nd. — This morning, about six o'clock,
one of the twin servants calls me, and as soon as I answer,
silently withdraws. I want to make inquiries about a
bath, and shout out "Oko," but there is no response.
The name of " Aqueti " produces equally barren results,
so I turn out and go in search of them. Passing through
our private sitting-room into the dining-room, I come
suddenly upon one of the twins engaged in sweeping the
floor. It looks like Oko, so far as I can remember. At
any rate, it is as much like Oko as it is Aqueti, and so,
not very pleased by the sudden way in which he dis
appeared, I say —
" Didn't you hear me calling you, Oko ? "
He stops sweeping and looks at me with a puzzled,
anxious air.
" Didn't you hear me shouting out ' Oko ' just now ? " I
.repeat, getting rather annoyed at his vacant expression.
" Oko, sar ? Yes, sar, I tell him ; " and putting aside
his broom, he makes hastily for the door.
" Hie ! Stop ! It doesn't matter to me whether you
are Oko or Aqueti, as long as what I want is done. You

282 On a Surf-bound Coast.
are Aqueti, I suppose ? " wishing, out of curiosity, to clear
the matter up.
There is a pause, in which he collects his faculties in
order to decide which of the two he happens to be, and
then, after a great mental effort, he says —
" Me Aqueti. Oko downstairs."
" That's all right. Well now, Aqueti, I want a bath."
His expression again becomes troubled, as if he did not
understand what I meant,, but realising that I want some
thing, and that that something isn't in the room, or I
would have taken it for myself, he says —
" Yes, sar ; I get it, sar/' and disappears rapidly, glad
of an excuse for terminating the trying interview.
Half an hour elapses, but no one comes, and I am
no nearer getting my bath. Walking out on to the
balcony, I look down into the courtyard, but there is no
sign of either Oko or Aqueti in the kitchen, or any of
the numerous outhouses there. It is very irritating, and,
determined to get somebody, in the absence of bells I
shout out " Aqueti " five or six times at the top of my
voice. In response to the sixth call, from a distant
quarter of the premises I hear a faint " Coming, sar,"
and then a figure emerges from the kitchen, and comes
tumbling up the wooden stairs with a tray, and cocoa,
and buttered toast on it. I am getting hungry, and am
somewhat appeased by the sight of this refreshment.
" This is all very well, Aqueti," I say to him as he
puts the tray down on a small table on the balcony, " but
how about my bath ? "
He smiles a pleased smile, apparently in answer to the
first part, but ignores altogether the second part of my
remark. " Have you got my bath ready yet, Aqueti ? " I repeat
in less conciliatory tones.

An Accra Morning Tub. 283
"Aqueti, sar ? Yes, sar, I tell him."
This was really more than I could stand. It seemed as
if they were playing off each other against me.
" Look here, Oko or Aqueti, whichever you happen to
be. If it wasn't you I spoke to about my bath, you must
be Oko, I suppose, though I have a shrewd suspicion that
it has been you, whoever you are, the whole time. Any
how, you both know now what I want, and if I don't get
my bath — bath," I repeat, "for wash," descending to
pigeon English to make myself thoroughly understood, —
" in ten minutes, there will be a death in your family,"
borrowing for the occasion a favourite expression of Mr.
North's. During the first part of this speech he looked bewil
dered; at the words "for wash" a beam of intelligence
passed over his face ; but when I got as far as " death," he
disappeared rapidly, leaving me to the enjoyment of the
cocoa and buttered toast.
Ten minutes after he comes back and says, " Bath
ready now, sar ; this way, sar," and leads me along the
balcony round to another side of the house to a room
partitioned off at the end of it. Here I find an enormous
bath quite empty, and a small hand basin by the side of
it half full of water.
" Why, you haven't brought the water yet ! "
"Water, sar? Yes, sar; there, sar," pointing to the
basin. " Water much searee ; no rain, no water." And
he retires after this satisfactory explanation.
As there was hardly enough to wash my hands in, I
determined to postpone my bathe till I could get a good
one in the sea.
When I am dressed, the only person I find up is North.
He tells me that he is going over to a second house
belonging to Mr. Dyce, part of which he has taken tern-

284 On a Surf-bound Coast.
porarily in readiness for the clerks whom he expects out
from England next mail. He asks me to accompany him,
but I tell him that I am anxious to get a Panama straw
hat first, as I am not very well satisfied with my sun
helmet, and then I will come on to him. He advises me
to go to the store kept by the German missionaries, who
support themselves by trading with the natives, and who,
if they do sell them a little more rum than is good for
their constitutions, make up the balance of good by in
structing them in the different trades and handicrafts, as
well as administering to their spiritual wants. Their
station is in the eastern portion of the town, in the main
street running into the Christiansborg road, and is a fine
building enclosed in a spacious yard with lofty outer walls.
Entering a well-stocked storeroom on the ground-floor,
I find a native shopman, who quickly supplies me with the
article I want. I then go back to the second house
belonging to Mr. Dyce, which is at the extreme western
boundary of the town. Passing through under a low
archway, I enter a yard which strikes me as not being
unlike an English farmyard, with its low sheds and out
buildings round, a horse looking out over the lower half
of the stable door, and about the yard two or three more
horses, as well as goats, turkeys, geese, ducks, and the
ordinary barndoor fowl. In the centre is a crib full of
the coarse green bush grass.
On the wide balcony running round the house, I
catch sight of North, who at once beckons me up. He
is taking his morning cup of cocoa, and invites me to
join him. Peter, his servant, goes off to get another
cup. Peter is a remarkably fine specimen of the native
African, tall — at least six feet high — with head erect,
supported on a strong sinewy neck, and with a per
fectly coal black complexion. His ordinary attire is

A Son of King Tom Peter. 285
a blue serge suit of thick material and nearly new, with
the waistcoat cut away like a dress waistcoat and a clerical
wideawake hat of loose black cloth. When engaged in
household work he takes off his coat and waistcoat, dis
playing to view a large pair of trousers braced up till
they nearly reach the armpits. Down his shirt front,
which is always scrupulously clean and well starched, but
seldom adorned with a collar or tie, are a set of gold studs.
When walking in the streets, he is never seen without au
enormously thick stick with which he moves solemnly
along, giving it an occasional flourish in order to inspire
a proper amount of awe and respect among the native
children. Peter soon returns with the second cup of cocoa,
treading very daintily on his toes.
"That's better, Peter," remarks North; "you don't
make quite such a noise with your boots now, but I don't
want you to go to the other extreme and creep about as
if there was some one dying in the house."
"Very well, sar; yes sar," and he retired with a little
more freedom of movement.
" They require a lot of teaching, these black servants,
but Peter is more intelligent than most of them. When
he first came to me he used to wear a big pair of boots
that creaked excruciatingly. He was very proud of these
boots, and he would walk about the house digging his
heels into the bare boards with a loud clatter, and rising-
to the tip of his toes to get the full extent of squeak out
of them, so that he could easily be heard in whatever
part of the house he was. When I remonstrated with
him on the point he seemed much surprised.
" ' My boots, sar ? very good pair, sar. I buy them boots \
because they speak ' (the expression he used), ' well ; ' and
he was much mortified to hear that I objected to them.
The chief attraction to a native in a pair of boots is the

286 On a Surf bound Coast.
amount of noise they are capable of making. The reason
is that the poorer natives cannot afford boots, and con
sequently move about noiselessly on their bare feet. But
if one of them is sufficiently rich and civilised to wear
boots, he is anxious to let every one know it, and this is
best accomplished by a powerful creak. Without a creak
they consider them hardly worth wearing. However,
Peter has now procured a less noisy pair, and, as you see,
is attempting to walk about without attracting such general
attention to them as he did before."
" Where does he come from ? "
" I engaged him at Sierra Leone. I happened early
one morning to let it be known that I should like to find
a boy to be my personal attendant ; when, within an hour
or two of this incautious statement, I was besieged by a
crowd of applicants, anxious to obtain, for themselves or
for their friends, the coveted post. Among the latter, old
Tom Peter, King of the Kroomen, comes bringing with
him this Peter, whom he introduced as his son. I don't
know whether it is a great and peculiar distinction for
him to be King Tom Peter's son, or whether the honour is
somewhat lessened by the possibility of his sharing it with
some five or six score others. At any rate, the King gave
him a very good personal character, recommending him
as a useful boy who had had experience in similar work
before, having been two years on board a British gunboat
in capacity of wardroom servant. He had also, he said,
received a good education in English at Sierra Leone,
being able to read and write it, the latter, however, as it
afterwards proved, in a laborious and uncertain hand. He
seemed an intelligent lad, and so I engaged him, the old
gentleman giving him his blessing, commending him to
my favour, and expressing a hope that I would not fail to
take care of ' his boy.' "

An Accra Farmyard. 287
" I see Dyce has got quite an extensive collection of
live stock here."
" Yes, he owns more horses than any one in Accra.
That little mare in the loose box over there is a very well-
bred animal. Accra is one of the few places on the Gold
Coast where horses can exist, the dreaded tsetse fly, which
is found elsewhere along nearly the whole length of it,
being fortunately absent here."
A native now emerges from one of the outhouses with
a basketful of maize, which he throws into the middle of
the yard for all the occupants indiscriminately. Maize is
the staple article of diet on the coast for both man and
beast. In the scramble for the grain, the horses get the
worst of it, as the goats, the ducks, and the geese get in
between their legs and pick it up at a much greater rate
than they do. Perceiving this, the horses lose their tem
pers, and putting back their ears, seize in their teeth
some small kid by the skin of its back, and remove it
from the scene. But it is all to no purpose, the vacant
place is quickly filled up, and they see the corn rapidly
disappearing before them, while they have to be content
with the few grains they have managed to pick up.
Inland there is a large lagoon, and beyond a vast
undulating plain of burnt grass and withered brushwood,
lost in the hazy blue of the distant horizon. A stream
of native women, with pitchers on their heads, are coming
from a large rain-water reseryoir a little distance from-
the town. Immediately beneath us, under the shade of
the balcony, three or four women of the house are washing
clothes in large flat tubs, chatting and laughing merrily,
with the never-absent baby slung behind.
North completes his arrangement of the rooms, and
then we return to the hotel for breakfast. Jackson comes
in and sits down in high spirits. He tells us that he has

288 On a Surf bound Coast.
got a murder case on at the law courts, and asks me if I
should like to go and hear his speech for the defence.
He has been fortunate enough to secure his fee before
hand from the unwilling relatives. Ordinarily, he says,
they are not very ready to produce the money, even if it
belongs to the accused man, as they know that if he is
condemned his money comes to them. However, in this
case, a feeling either of natural affection or shame got
the better of their avarice, and they had come and paid
in the money this morning. There was another man on
his trial for murder, but none of his relatives had been
forthcoming. This man Jackson declares his intention of
defending for nothing, except, perhaps, the satisfaction
of snatching a fellow countryman from the clutches of
tyrannic English law. He informs us that the Queen's
advocate is at present acting as judge, the late chief
justice having been drowned a month or so before whilst
landing in a surf-boat from the steamer, and his successor
not having yet arrived. There was some suspicion of
foul play in the case, as he was unpopular among the
natives on account of his severe sentences and his exact
discharge of duty — a suspicion which was heightened by
the fact that his personal jewellery was missing when his
body was recovered immediately afterwards. I tell Jackson
that I should like very much to be present at his speech,
and North offers me a lift in his trap, as he is going to
Christiansborg, and can drop me at New Site where the
law court stands.
North is delayed longer than he expected after break
fast, and it is half-past one before he puts me down in
front of the law court. Ascending a flight of stone
steps, and passing through the folding doors at the top, I
find myself in a large, cool building, with a fresh breeze
blowing in through the open windows. As I enter I am

The Law Courts. 289
struck by a very sweet smell, as if the wind was filling
the court with the perfume from a vast track of fragrant
flowers. On mentioning this, however, to Jackson after
wards, he tells me that it is a particular scent of which
the natives are especially fond, and with which they
sprinkle their flowing garments. Half the court is taken
up by the judicial bench, the jury box, the counsel's
table, and the prisoner's bar, the other half being filled
with benches for the public.
Jackson has just uttered the concluding words of an
eloquent peroration when I arrive, and the acting judge, ¦
who is a young-looking man, is having a dispute with
the acting Queen's advocate, who has taken his place,
about some point of law. After a short time the judge
gives it up, as if it were a riddle that was rather too
tedious to solve just then, and proposes an adjournment
for breakfast, saying the court will meet again in half
an hour. This arrangement does not appear to be at all
agreeable to one of the jurymen, who are all natives, and
he is heard to murmur audibly that he can't go all the
way to Accra, get his breakfast, and come back again in
that short time. The judge, merely remarking that he
" must get it somewhere else, then," vacates his seat, and
the court is rapidly deserted.
I walk out on to the raised terrace running round the
building and shaded by a wide verandah. Here there
are several prostrate objects, which appear to be bundles
of clothes rolled up in cotton cloth, but which I discover,
by a gentle application of my boot, to be natives lying
asleep out on the stone-paved floor, completely enveloped
head and foot in their long cotton garments. They are
probably relatives of the men on trial come a long dis
tance to hear their fate, but, overcome with fatigue,
are now wrapped in sweet unconsciousness, oblivious of
u

290 On a Surf-bound Coast.
everything, while their kinsmen's lives are trembling in
the balance.
Punctually at the half hour the judge reappears, the
jury tumble into their seats, and the prisoner is conducted
to the bar by a Houssa shouldering a bayoneted gun.
The prisoner is an abject-looking creature, his head
hanging down, the hair shaved off — which is a token of
mourning among the natives — leaving to view a shiny,
ill-shaped poll, with a bewildered pucker on his forehead,
and wearing only the scant waistcloth round his loins.
The acting judge has apparently settled the little diffi
culty with the acting Queen's advocate over a hearty
breakfast, and, assuming an air of great official dignity,
commences his summing up in a tone which makes one
realise how apt the phrase is, " laying down the law."
It seemed that a certain village, without any apparent
provocation, marched out armed one fine evening against
a neighbouring village, and challenged them to fight, per
haps as much for a relief from the oppressive ennui of
their uneventful lives, as from any deep-rooted animosity
they entertained against them. The challenged village,
nothing loth, cheerfully responded to the summons, beat
their drums, and came tumbling out of their mud huts
with their rusty old fowling-pieces in their hands. Among
the foremost to answer the call to arms was the prisoner,
who, falling in rather hastily and unexpectedly with one
of the vanguard of the enemy, with great presence of
mind raises his gun and shoots the intruder dead at his
feet. This was . apparently more than the first village
had bargained for. Although they, on their part, had
been rattling their bullets merrily against the mud and
plaster walls of their enemy's huts for some little time, it
did not enter into their calculations that one of their own
number would be removed so early in the sport. Accord-

Passing Sentence through Interpreter. 291
ingly, they threw down their arms and ran away, some to
console the afflicted relatives of the deceased, others to
the nearest district commissioner to get out a summons
against the offender.
This was the substance of the story. There was no
case for murder, the judge remarked ; but the question
for the jury to decide was whether it was manslaughter
or not. The prisoner listened wonderingly to this long
harangue, not understanding a word of it, and appeared
utterly at a loss to account for such a natural occurrence
as toppling over a member of a hostile village ending in
his enforced presence in a court of law. As soon as the
judge has finished his speech, the jury retire to a side
room, and the door has hardly closed behind the last one
when the foreman reappears heading the procession out
again, and declares that they have found the prisoner
guilty of manslaughter. The judge then assumes a por
tentous gravity of countenance and begins —
" Prisoner at the bar, the jury have found you guilty
of manslaughter."
Solemn pause, during which a native interpreter gives
a free translation of it to the prisoner, accompanied with
many gesticulations and, to judge from the time he took,
several interpolations, being perhaps of a poetic nature
and disdaining to confine his language to the strict
formalities of law. The judge resumes —
" If the original charge of murder had been maintained,
your life would have been in forfeit."
Pause for the interpreter to take up his part of the
duet, while the judge looks composedly round the court,
observing the effect of his speech and getting ready his
next short sentence.
"As it is, you are guilty of causing the death of a
fellow man."

292 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Pause for interpreter. The prisoner begins to look
interested, as if they had at last come to something that
he can understand.
" Stones and staves are not the instruments with which
to settle your disputes. The case is worse when you
employ knives and guns."
Pause of unusual length after the interpreter has
finished. The prisoner again relapses into his former
puzzled expression.
" There is too great a readiness among you to engage
in petty strife, and as long as I am here I shall do my
best to put a stop to it. When another village challenges
you to fight you must not respond, but, remaining quietly
in your huts, you must send for the nearest district com
missioner." Spontaneous titter among native audience, which is at
once suppressed. The prisoner looks more blank than
ever, while the judge, roused by the reception of his last
remark, gives a stern frown and proceeds more harshly —
"Prisoner at the bar, you are found guilty of an aggra
vated case of manslaughter, and the sentence of this court
is that you be kept in penal servitude for fifteen years."
Stifled exclamations run through the court, and the
prisoner is led off by the Houssa into confinement, with
the most ludicrously perplexed expression on his features.
I leave as the second prisoner, accused of murder, an old,
gray-haired, mild-looking creature, is brought in, and
reach the hut just in time for my watch, at 4 p.m.

( 293 )

CHAPTEE XX.
A bathe in the surf — Native applications for employment — " The way
the sun goes" — Sua's "brodder" — A stolid little nigger boy —
Two visitors from the German mission — A lesson in West African
hygiene.
Tuesday, August 3rd. — It is a dull, cool day, with gray
clouds obscuring the rays of the sun, and a strong, moist
wind blowing from the south-west. The mirror instrument
is connected up to the cable, and we have been watching
it without intermission since noon yesterday, but have
received no signals from the ship. As we do not expect
them to call us till they have laid both shore ends at
Cutanu and are about to splice the buoyed end of the
cable from Accra to the westward one of them, we come
to the conclusion that they find the landing more difficult
than they anticipated.
Wednesday, August 4th. — At eight o'clock, at the con
clusion of my watch, I feel very much tempted to have a
dip in the sea ; but hesitate for two reasons. First of all,
because I understand that all along this coast the shore
is infested with ground sharks, who quickly remove any
one as soon as he puts his foot in the water ; and secondly,
because the breakers are roaring away louder than ever
only a short distance from the beach, and look rather
alarming, if one is not accustomed to encountering them.

294 On a Surf bound Coast.
In my difficulty I call to our servant Sua, who is pre
paring a morning cup of cocoa on the paraffin stove out
side the hut. This morning he is dressed in his best
clothes, consisting of a jersey, and blue serge coat and
knickerbockers ; but when he is cleaning out the hut, or
doing work which he thinks may injure such fine apparel,
he lays them aside, and appears in nothing but the scanty
waistcloth. He answers, " Yes, sar," in response to my
call, and comes to the hut door.
"Are there any sharks about in the water here, Sua ? "
A puzzled expression gathers on his face, and he
scratches his short wool pensively with his left hand.
" Sarks, sar ? No sabby sarks, sar," shaking his head
and regarding me with a troubled look.
"Big fish," I say, descending to pigeon English to
make myself understood. " Big fish, bite man, no live
here ? "
A smile of intelligence passes over his features. "No,
sar, no big fish live here. Big fish far out there, not here."
" I think I will bathe, then ; " and I begin making pre
parations. When he sees my intention, he says, " Massa go washy ? "
and immediately proceeds to divest himself of his clothino-
and, running down the beach, dashes into the surf. I
follow him at a short distance. He swims through the
foaming water of a spent breaker, and as another comes
rolling up and curling high above him, he dives beneath
it, the column descending with a loud roar behind him.
There is a few seconds' interval, and then his black head
appears bobbing up and down in the white fringe of foam
beyond. I don't quite like the look of it, but as he has
given me a lead I cannot draw back now. Swimming
after him through the surf, I meet a huge roller which is
gathering itself up high above me, and seizing my

Bathe in the Surf. 295
opportunity, I dive into the curling bank of water and
then I hear a dull rushing noise around me, and at length
emerge securely in the seething foam beyond. Sua is
here in his element, dancing up and down and doing
fancy performances with the rollers, as if he had lived
since infancy as much in the water as on dry land.
" See, massa," he cries, as a big roller comes towering
along ; " see me go." Watching it carefully till it is just
upon him, he turns his face to the shore and rising on to
the top of it he strikes out vigorously with it towards
land, and is carried dashing in at a tremendous speed
after the same manner as the surf-boats beach themselves.
I try to imitate his example, but not with such success,
in my haste and inexperience getting too much in advance,
and being rolled up with the breaker instead of riding on
its crest. However, I come out of it all right after a little
tumbling about, and scramble out to find Sua on the
beach highly amused by my performance, grinning from
ear to ear and saying, " Var good, massa ; var good."
About noon, when we have finished breakfast, and are
smoking our pipes, two of us seated on the camp bedstead,
and the third deposited in my Madeira chair, which I
had brought off the ship for use in the hut, all of us
engaged in watching for the ship, a figure appears at the
hut door and beneath the sun helmet we recognis>V.the
familiar features of Mr. North.
" Well, how are you getting on ? " he begins, taking off
his helmet and mopping the perspiration from his brow.
" It is just hot, walking in this sun ! I have come along
the beach from Christiansborg, where I have been to
breakfast, with the governor. The governor keeps a very
good table, and another time I shall not take active
exercise directly after having a meal with him. You
are pretty warm in here, too ; eighty-seven degrees, I see,"

296 On a Surf bound Coast.
as he inspects our thermometer. " You have not got the
ship yet then ? "
" No," replies Schultzer. " I suppose they are having
difficulty with the shore ends at Cutanu."
" Well, here's a message for them from the governor
when you do get the ship," handing him a note.
" How are you getting on with your work ? " I ask.
" As well as can be expected. I have received a number
of applications from natives wanting to be employed at
the telegraph station. I have been looking over them
this morning. Some of them are not in bad writing or
spelling, but they all have a very original way of express
ing themselves. Here is one who offers himself as a
trustworthy superintendent or overseer, adding later on
that, if required, he would not object to do both cooking
and washing. Here's another, who begins in the third
person with 'your humble petitioner,' and at the end
goes suddenly into the first, concluding thus, ' and if
you will take me you will merit my entire approbation.'
I must go on into the town now, as I have a lot of work
before me."
And he leaves us to carry on our monotonous watch,
which is undisturbed by any other visitor till Oko (or
Aqueti) from the hotel brings our dinner down on the
large wooden trencher about six o'clock. The fare varies
from day to day, and this evening it is not very tempting.
There is some coarse boiled fish, a stew-up of odd bones
and scraps of meat, and some plain boiled rice with yams
for vegetables. To drink we have some fairly good claret.
Thursday, August 5th. — It is a fine day and the wind has
dropped a little. Up to the present time it has been
very strong, and so saturated with moisture that, sittino-
outside the hut one's clothes got quite damp, and then

Suds " B rodder." 297
the high wind was apt to give a chill. It is very pleasant
now, and after my early cup of cocoa, I take a chair and
sit outside reading, sheltered by the hut from the sun, which
at this time of the morning still casts a sufficiently large
shadow of it on the ground. As I have placed my chair
at the extreme limit of the shade at the side towards
which I imagine it to be moving, I am surprised when
I find it has shifted in the opposite direction, and that I
am being exposed again to it. Of course I should have
remembered that as the sun was now north of the latitude
in which I was, shadows thrown by it in its course from
east to west, would move in the opposite direction to that
in which they do when it is south of it. For this reason
the expression "the way the sun goes" is not after all
very clear and definite, except in so far as it refers to a
particular zone. At midday here the sun is due north
iustead of due south, and sun dials are of little value unless
they are reversed twice a year.
When I have readjusted my chair to meet the exigencies
of latitude, a native in European clothing appears, and is
greeted with effusive warmth by Sua, who brings him up
to me and says —
" Dis my brodder, sar," on which the brother takes off
his hat with a low bow, and I declare myself delighted
to make his acquaintance. Sua then continues —
" My brodder, he want to go for see inside."
" Very well, then ; come along." And I lead the way in.
I don't attempt to explain anything to him, as it is very
doubtful if he would be able to understand it if I did, but
merely show him the instruments on the table, with the
lamps burning for the mirror, point out the two shelves
of batteries underneath, and, after setting the Morse in
strument running, present him with a piece of printed
paper from it. He talks very good English, and has

298 On a Surf bound Coast.
evidently had the advantage of that education which is
so conspicuously absent in his brother. Although he
does not understand anything about the instruments, he
keeps saying, " Very wonderful, very clever ; " and then
adds, "I suppose, now, you can send messages to London?"
"Well, we hope to be able to do so when the other
company have laid the connecting cable between here
and Sierra Leone. I don't know that there is anything
else I can show you, unless, . perhaps, you would like to
try a shock ? "
He says he thinks he would, and I extend to him a
couple of wires, connected to the ends of the battery ; and
after he has moistened his fingers in some water, to make
a better passage for the current, I tell him to take hold
of them. He has an uneasy suspicion that something
unexpected is likely to happen, and would be glad to
draw back, but does not wish to show any fear of science
in the presence of his less enlightened brother. So he
takes hold of one wire, and has just touched the tip of
the other, when he gives a wild jump and rushes out of
the door, rubbing his arm and making dreadful grimaces.
His brother, with a total absence of kindred sympathy,
goes into fits of uncontrollable laughter, rolling on the
floor in the ecstasy of his enjoyment, and crying out, " He
got it, then, massa ! He got it ! He sabby what it is
now," and is seized with another paroxysm of intense
delight. I did not expect him to be so much startled, and
taking the two ends myself, from which there is really
only a small shock, as the number of cells in circuit
is inconsiderable, I call him back to show to him that
there is no harm at all connected with it. But he won't
come any farther than within a few yards of the door,
where he remains, and says, " Ah ! it is very bad. As

' ' An Electric Shocks 299
soon as I touched it, something jumped up my arm like
that," illustrating the effect with a sudden contraction of
that member. " It is a bad thing. It is fetish. It is
not good to have to do with it," and he continues shaking
his head and muttering imprecations on the mysterious
agency. By this time a tall native in the loose flowing national
garment, and a little girl, presumably his daughter, with
a large calabash balanced on her head, have been attracted
to the door, and are looking curiously in. The man, at
Sua's suggestion, is willing to try the electric current ;
but on the brother saying something to him in the native
tongue he changes his mind, and steadily declines to
advance within the hut. Thinking that this unreasonable
prejudice might be partly due to the uninviting appearance
of the two ends of gutta percha covered wire laid bare at
the end for about an inch, we fill with water the tin basin
belonging to our tripod washstand, and connecting it with
one lead, we drop a sixpence in, and put it down at the
door of the hut. The man's cupidity is at once aroused,
and he thinks there can be no harm in just touching the
surface of the water to see if it is unpleasantly hot or
cold. But no sooner have the tips of his fingers reached
the liquid, than he utters a wild yell, and rushes head
long away, upsetting in his flight Sua's brother, who is
watching proceedings at a discreet distance from the
door. There was no real cause for this alarm, but the
native's imagination had been excited by the mysterious
hints of Sua's brother, and directly he felt the current,
his self-command deserted him, and he gave way to all
the fears of a naturally superstitious intellect.
At this point a little nigger boy comes quietly up, wear
ing the very scantiest of loin cloths, his dark skin shining
in the morning sun, and his big eyes rolling curiously, dis-

300 On a Surf-bound Coast.
playing to view an abnormal extent of white. We invite
him to take the sixpence. He looks at us inquiringly,
as if to ascertain if we are joking, then being apparently
satisfied by our expressions, he puts his hand into the
basin. He receives a shock, of course; but being of a
philosophic nature, and not feeling much hurt, he merely
withdraws his hand, holds the finger with which he first
touched the water up in front of him, inspects it, finds it
is still there, and after working the joints of it with
the other hand, to make sure that no damage has been
done, he gives us another searching look, then dips his
hand solemnly into the water, and extracts the shining
coin. We greet this courageous action with loud applause
from the hut, and the tall native, who has come back
to within a safe distance, says to the boy magnanimously,
as he sees him carrying off the coveted piece, "Boy,
I dash you that sixpence ; " then, giving us a final look
of mild reproach, he turns and goes sorrowfully on his way,
the little daughter following behind, and twisting her
head round every now and then as well as she can when
supporting the large calabash, and casting an anxious
glance in our direction.
The afternoon drags slowly on without a single other
visitor. Our dinner hour is supposed to be six o'clock ;
but the dinner itself seldom arrives till half-past six or
seven, although we send up particular injunctions every
evening with regard to it. It is now a quarter to seven,
and we are all in a very bad temper and have not spoken
a word to each other for the last twenty minutes, when
we hear footsteps outside, and I give a sigh of relief at
the welcome sound. But instead of the familiar wooden
tray, supported on Oko or Aqueti's head, we see in the
gloom beyond the door — the sun has set a good half-

Visitors. 301
hour — two figures muffled up in heavy garments, hesita
ting to enter. Schultzer goes to the door, and, as soon as
he gets there, exclaims —
" Oh, it's you, is it ? Come on in." Then, turning to
Noirtier and myself, he says, " Let me introduce to you
these two gentlemen from the German mission."
They give us a stately bow each, and are then accom
modated with seats, one on the camp bedstead, and the
other in the Madeira chair. They are a great contrast
to each other in appearance. The elder, a man about
thirty, is short and worn looking, with a very powerful
pair of spectacles, through which his eyes are magnified
out of all proportion to his face. The younger one, about
eighteen, is tall, dark, good looking, and inclined to be
stout. Schultzer addresses the latter —
" You speak French, I remember. M. Noirtier will be
delighted to talk with you in his native tongue ; " and
they at once begin an animated conversation in that
language. He then says to me, " You will excuse my
talking German with this gentleman ; " and he com
mences forthwith an excited dialogue in German with the
elder one.
In order that my native tongue may not be lost in
this small Babel, I start talking English with Sua, who
is leaning in the doorway inspecting curiously the
gentleman with spectacles. Sua's command of the
English language is very limited. It is all very well as
long as any one talks to him and he can reply, " Yes,
sar," with smiling indifference, whatever you happen to
say. But when you press him for a fuller answer, he gets
into difficulties, and talks a most incomprehensible jargon,
in which the expression, " Me no sabby, sar," is alternated
with numerous delighted chuckles, as if you were making
sport of him, and he submitted to it in order to please you.

302 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Schultzer has now begun explaining the instruments to
his attenuated friend, and it is curious to note how
naturally they both drop into English in discussing this
scientific subject. Noirtier is delighted to have some
one to talk French to, and is seated on the camp bed
stead by the side of the dark missionary, holding forth
with much warmth and emphatic gesticulation.
At this interesting juncture our dinner at length makes
its appearance, and Schultzer, whose appetite cannot
resist the tempting sight, says to his friends—
" Have you had dinner ? "
" Oh yes. We dine punctually at half-past five."
" You will excuse us, then, beginning ; but I hope you
won't on that account deprive us of the pleasure of
your company. Will you have a pipe or a cigar ? "
" No, thank you," replies the elder, who appears to act
as spokesman for both ; " we never smoke. We find it
does not do in this climate. I used to smoke when I first
came out, but I soon had to give it up. It did not agree
with me at all out here."
" Have you had much illness ? " inquires Schultzer.
" Yes, a good deal. One of our number is down with
fever very badly at the present time. You saw him when
you called on Sunday, I think— a tall, fair man ? "
"Oh yes, I remember. I thought how remarkably
well he looked."
" Yes ; that is the way with the fever on this coast.
One can never tell who is most likely to be down with it
next. A man may be, to all appearance, in excellent
health at the beginning of the week, and he may be
buried by the end of it."
" Don't spoil our appetites," says Schultzer, as we draw
up two camp stools and a packing-case to the only avail
able table placed along one side of the hut, and thus

West African Hygiene. 303
compelling us, unfortunately, to turn our backs upon our
visitors. " I don't like the look of the fish they have
brought this evening. I think I will trouble you for
some of your mutton, M. Noirtier. That's one thing they
have very good here, the mutton."
" Yes, the mutton is good, but the beef is bad ; and
the chickens are too tough to cut up, much less to eat."
" What can you say for the water? " Schultzer asks, as
Sua fills our water jug from our large charcoal filter.
" Can you recommend it ? "
" No ; the water cannot be depended on. It is all
rain-water preserved in tanks, and as we have not had
any rain for several months, the supply is getting very
low and not in good condition. No, you should not drink
Accra water ; but if you are compelled to do so, you ought
to take a few drops of brandy with it."
" I take a few drops of claret with it," says Schultzer,
who has put a thimbleful of water in his glass, and filled
up the rest of it with that wine.
" Do you ever bathe in the sea here ? " I ask. " I had
a very pleasant dip yesterday."
" No, we never bathe ; and I should advise you not to
do so. It is highly enervating and weakening, and is
especially dangerous when the sun is up."
I was just going to ask them what they did do, if
they ever did anything, when the elder one rises, and
says —
" I think we must be going back now ; it is getting
late. We are an early house. We are all in bed by
half-past eight. Later than that we found did not agree
with us." And they take up their ulsters, which they had
laid aside after entering the hut, and when they have
arranged a silk handkerchief carefully round their throats,
they put on their coats and button them up to the chin.

304 On a Surf-bound Coast.
"Now I think we are ready," as the last button is
secured. " The nights here are very chilly and damp,
and it is always as well to wrap one's self up securely."
"Yes, I suppose you are on the safe side," says
Schultzer, surveying them muffled up from tip to toe,
as if they were going out into a snowstorm. " But don't
you get rather hot, walking in all that ? "
"Oh, we don't walk," with a condescending smile at
his misconception of the proper hygienic principles to
be observed along the coast. "The night air is very
injurious, laden as it is with fatal miasmic germs. We
drive. Our carriage is waiting at the end of the road
track running down here to take us back. Ah, here's our
dog Nero waiting for us outside. Poor Nero ! he has lost
five masters in two years. Well, we must really say
good-bye, and you must learn to take more care of your
selves if you wish to enjoy immunity from fever."

( 3Q5 )

CHAPTEE XXI,
Strange effects of trade rum — A monotonous watch — I revisit the
outer world — Clock birds— Tete-a-tete breakfast with mine host
— His views on slavery — Steering a bath chair — The ship calls at
last — A musical trio — Butterfly catching — The temptations of a
looking-glass — The ship catches us napping — I receive orders to
leave Accra by next mail for St. Thome.
Friday, August 6th. — I wake up at two o'clock shivering
with cold, and begin to think that our friends of the
previous evening had some grounds for their words of
caution after all.* When I turned in about ten o'clock
I was too hot to get any sleep, and although changing
into a light flannel suit of pajamas, I could bear no other
covering, but broke out into a profuse perspiration. Now
I am quite cold, and have heaped on a couple of rugs
without deriving much benefit from the protection. Our
hut is built so much as a fair weather structure that,
what with the open ventilator in the centre of the roof,
the square hole in the floor through which the galvano
meter stand comes up, and the chinks between the boards,
whiuh are some three feet in height above the ground,
there is plenty of opportunity for ventilation, and with
* A few weeks subsequent to my departure from Accra, one of the
German missionaries and his wife were simultaneously attacked by
fever, and after two days' illness they both succumbed to the malady
within an hour of each other. X

306 On a Surf bound Coast.
a strong wind there is enough to make it positively cold.
Noirtier, who is on watch, has got a rug round his knees,
and looks as much wrapped up as if he were on a journey
in midwinter across the Eussian Steppes.
I get a disconnected slumber till four o'clock, when
Noirtier wakes me, and I take on the watch. The spot
of light is motionless. I give a call signal, and, of course,
get no reply, and then I have a look outside. It is a
perfectly dark night; the breakers are roaring loudly
only sixty or seventy feet from the hut, while the wash
from them dashes up to within twenty or thirty feet of
it, and the concussion is often sufficient to shake the hut
and make loose articles rattle in it. I find our old watch
man sitting on a stool he has borrowed from the hut,
wrapped in a white cotton garment, a white night-cap on
his head, and a long thin staff — designed, I suppose, more
for ornament than for use against intending plunderers 
in his hand.
"All fair, sar," he says, giving the watchman's cry as
soon as he becomes aware of my presence. " Much cold
sar. Bad night."
" Yes ; you ought to put something more on than that
old sheet."
" Bad night, sar," taking scant notice of my suggestion.
"Strange sounds; strange sights. I see the devil just
now. He was over there. Then he come close, all on
fire, and gaping at me with his" mouth. He come here
and go way right over there. I see him three times.
Ah, it's a bad night, sar."
As he said all this in a quiet matter-of-fact sort of
manner, as if he were merely relating some curious
occurrence in natural history, I did not quite know what
to make of it.
" Do you think he will call again this morning ? "

A Monotonous Watch, 307
"No sabby, sar. He may come, he may not come."
" Well, if he does, call me, will you ? I should like to
catch. a glimpse of him, just for once ;" to which he replies
very seriously —
"Yes, sar; I call you, sar." And then I go in again,
coming to the conclusion that he is suffering from a mild
form of delirium tremens, owing to the inferior quality of
trade rum in these parts.
At 5.30 a.m., as daylight appears, I hear three guns
fired in quick succession, and then I remember that our
visitors of the night before told us that several leeward
steamers were behind date, so that no fewer than five of
them are due at the present time. As the prevalent
wind is from the west, by a leeward steamer is meant one
coming from the east, and consequently homeward bound.
On looking out I see three mail steamers anchored off
the town, though I cannot tell if they all came in at the
same time, as when they arrive during the night they do
not fire the gun till daybreak.
It is now four days and four nights that we have been
watching uninterruptedly the spot of light on the scale
of the mirror-speaking instrument, and not the smallest
signal has been yet received. Sometimes our hopes have
been temporarily raised, when, as occurs every now and
then, it would give a slight movement one way or the
other; but on calling, no response would be received,
and we have to conclude either that the mirror was made
to oscillate by the shaking of the floor, or else that an
earth current, entering the cable, caused the momentary
deflection. Watching a stationary spot of light like this
is the most wearisome work imaginable. At first one sits
down to it full of hope, mistaking the slightest move
ment for a signal, and even imagining movements when
there are none at all. But with frequent disappointments

308 On a Surf-bound Coast.

o

this sanguine temperament deserts one, and with the third
or fourth day of continuous watch, you get a settled
conviction that the spot will never move at all again.
Haunted by this constant and never-changing phantom,
I feel a great longing to escape for a short time into the
outer world, and so at eight o'clock, as it is not my watch
again till four p.m., I determine to take a walk up to
the town. After I have had a cup of cocoa prepared by
Sua, I announce my intention to Schultzer and Noirtier,
the former of whom has taken on the watch, while the
latter is still recumbent on his bed gazing vacantly out
through the open door. They ask me to take their letters
up for the home mail, and I set off. My way lies along a
smooth cart-track which runs off the main road to Chris
tiansborg down to the powder magazine, situated about
a hundred yards from our hut. There is a large sentry
box here and a guard of four Houssas, who salute me very
punctiliously, if I happen to have my uniform coat on,
but on other occasions ignore me altogether.
The track runs through a wild low bush growth, over
which magnificent butterflies are flitting, birds of varied
size and colour rise up and disappear again, while the
ground is alive with all the familiar sounds of the insect
world. It is a bright, clear morning, and there is a deli
cious scent, like the fragrance of new-mown hay and sweet
briar, while the atmosphere is of that full, moist, intoxi
cating warmth, which is characteristic of the west coast
and is rarely experienced in dry climates, however great
the heat may be. Along the main road natives are
passing each way, mostly women with vessels on their
heads, the men in their gorgeous cotton raiment and
carrying long staves.
I reach the post-office just in time for the mail, and
then I go down to the beach. Here there is a very ani-

Clock Birds. 309

mated scene, surf-boats going off with cargo to the three
steamers, and the natives shouting and gesticulating as if
their very lives depended on the work they had in hand.
Live stock in the form of monkeys, parrots, and other
birds are also being taken off on the chance of finding
purchasers on board. Among the birds I see a cage con
taining a dozen, about the size of a partridge, but with a
very pretty blue and gray plumage. They are not in
very good condition, however, and appear solemn and
dejected. I ask what they are, and the owner says,
" These are clock birds, sar. They chirp every half hour."
Evidently the sense of their vocation weighs heavily upon
them, for they seem very depressed, as if they would like
to relieve themselves now and then by a faint chuckle,
but are obliged to keep it back till the next half hour
comes round.
I then go to the hotel, the courtyard of which I find
crowded with natives getting eargo ready for the steamers.
The native hotel keeper, in a faultless suit of gray sum
mer cloth, with a high collar, white necktie, and a diamond
pin, is superintending the operations and yelling and
dancing about as excitedly as any of his servants. North
is still at the governor's, and as I can find no one else
likely to be in at breakfast, I determine to wait for the
host, who generally takes his meals with those staying at
his house. At length he comes, very much heated, makes
profuse apologies, ascribes his delay to the stupidity of
his workmen, and we sit down to a tete-a-tete breakfast.
Looking round the table he says, " Ah ! I see they have
sent up no eggs. You would like some poached eggs,
would you not ? I will have some done at once ; " and the
servant, whom I take to be Oko, hurries out of the room
to carry his order to the cook. " Eggs are not easy to
get here," he continues. " They charge threepence for

3io On a Surf -bound Coast.
four of them in the market. Chicken, too, is very dear,
and very tough when bought. The difference between
the price of provisions in Accra before and after the
Ashantee war is something enormous, almost incredible.
Before the war, everything was in plenty, and you could
get almost as many chickens then, for the same price as
you get eggs now. But the abolition of slavery, which
was enforced at the termination of the war, has changed
all that. Vast estates inland, which were kept in perfect
order and flooded the market with every kind of product,
fell at once into ruin and decay. For the slaves, wheu
once set free and not obliged to work, could not be induced
to do so for money or any other consideration, and would
almost rather die of starvation than stir a limb to earn
their food. The consequence is that these fine estates
are completely ruined and deserted, and the food supply
has gone up proportionately in price ; and all this on
account of the abolition of slavery. No, no ; it has proved
to be by no means the unmixed benefit it was proclaimed
it would be, and Englishmen, who have lived out here, and
who are best able to judge from personal observation, will
tell you that it has done an incalculable amount of harm,
to the liberated classes as well as their employers.
" For, after all, the slaves, with rare exceptions, were not
by any means ill treated. They were found in all the neces
saries of life, were allowed to marry and keep families, and
were free at the same time from all the harassing respon
sibilities of the free man's position. Man is born to work,
and those who won't work of themselves, are happier when
made to work by others than if left alone to spend their
days in sloth and idleness. A slave of any natural capa
bility held as good a billet as many a free man now
employed at other's pay. They frequently enjoyed the
absolute trust of their masters, and were made partakers

Steering a Bath Chair. 3 1 1
alike of their occupations and amusements. Several cases
I have known myself, where a man who had an only
daughter' would marry her to his confidential slave and
leave him all the property. It will be a long time before
this coast is as happy and contented as it was in the days
before the abolition of slavery."
Breakfast is over very late, and after a smoke on the
piazza it is time for me to think of getting back to the
hut for my watch at four. The sun is pouring down in
full vigour, and I do not like the prospect of the long
walk in the heat of the afternoon. So I ask the host
about a conveyance. He says his pony trap is out — as it
usually appears to be when wanted — but that he can let
me have a bath chair and a man to push it. Accordingly,
this is brought round to the gate of the courtyard, and
turns out to be an old and rickety vehicle of antique shape,
without any hood, and several holes in the shiny cloth-
covered seat through which the horsehair is projecting.
However, it seems fairly comfortable when I am in, and
taking the handle attached to the front wheel in one
hand, and holding my green sunshade over my head with
the other, I settle myself well down, and give the signal
to start. Apparently there is a very .powerful native
behind me, for we go off with a sort of jump, which is so
little expected by me that the stick of the sunshade is
knocked against the brim of my Panama hat, putting it
over my eyes, while in the confusion consequent upon
this misadventure, I run up the path at the side of the
street towards a small native shop, pulling up only just
in time to prevent upsetting an ancient negress seated in
the doorway. My energetic native abates his ardour
sufficiently to allow me to regain the middle of the road,
and then we set off again at a furious trot.
I soon disco ver that steering a bath-chair is no easy

312 On a Surf-bound Coast.
matter when both the front wheel and the handle to it are
quite loose, the former riggling and curling uneasily as it
pursues its devious course. We spin round *a corner
dangerously near to a palm-oil cask lying on the path, one
of the hind wheels elevated in the air with the sharpness of
the curve. Then we dive beneath a tree with unpleasantly
low-reaching branches, whirl along a short cut — where the
deep ruts caused by the rains make the springs squeak
ominously and set the chair bouncing up and down as.
though it were an indiarubber ball — till we reach the
main road. Here it is smoother, but the obstacles in
crease in number. A goat taxes my steering powers to
the utmost by waiting till I am up to it, and then gambol
ling playfully before me, keeping just in front of the chair
whichever side I turn it, till a catastrophe seems inevit
able. Next, a small nigger infant of about three years
old walks stolidly into the middle of the road and will
not move on my approach, while the mother comes
screaming out of her hut, heaping imprecations on me as
I pass in dangerous proximity to her offspring. Finally,
I meet a large timber trolley drawn by natives occupying
the whole of the road, and my athletic chairman, whose
powers seem to increase with the distance travelled,
urges me on at a more reckless speed than ever, and I
just shave by at the side, the wheels skidding dangerously
on the sloping ground, and sending a group of native
women flying in all directions in great alarm. After this
it is more open, till I turn off on to the bye-road to the
hut, which being down hill, increases the speed enormously,
and I fly past the Houssa guard at the powder magazine,
who are too bewildered to salute, and after weathering
with great difficulty a corner there, I at length induce my
herculean native to slack down the pace and let me out.
When I reach the hut I see the curtains drawn across

We get the Ship at Last. 313
the door and windows, and at once conclude that the ship
has called at last. On entering, they tell me they have
only just been put in communication with her. The ship
is mysterious and reserved, and does not even mention
her name, merely saying, " Here, ship," so that we don't
know whether we are talking to the Thraeia or the Copper-
field. A ship is always curt and uncommunicative in her
intercourse with those on shore, and the latter never ask
her questions, as she is always supposed to be in a desperate
hurry. On this occasion she tells us nothing about what
they have been doing, or what they intend to do, but
merely hinting an apology for giving us so long a watch
says, " Will call you again to-morrow at noon. Till then,
good-bye." As we wish to make some tests on the cable, we deter
mine to remain at the hut till after dinner.
Before sunset two more guns announce the arrival of two
leeward steamers, making five homeward-bound steamers
off Accra in one day, a rather unusual occurrence for the
town. Our work is over before dinner, and after it we
start for the hotel, reaching it about 8.30 p.m. We find
all hushed and still, every one having apparently retired
by this early hour. On the dining-room floor, stretched
on a thin native straw mat, is a little nigger boy, without
any pillow, and merely his cotton garment for a covering.
He is enjoying, however, the healthy sleep of youth, in
spite of the hardness of this resting-place. We turn in
early, but I find some difficulty in getting to sleep, as
the old native in the hut opposite the hotel is giving a
party — probably on the occasion of his centenary — and
their principal form of amusement appears to be dancing
round a big fire in the centre of the limited courtyard,
yelling out discordant chants at the top of their voices
without a moment's breathing space or intermission.

314 On a Surf-bound Coast.
Saturday, August 1th. — After a comfortable breakfast
at the hotel we reach the hut shortly before noon, and
recommence our watch for the ship. It is a fine, clear
day, with a fresh breeze from the west, and I sit in the
open doorway looking through a book, or watching the
rollers as they break upon the beach. Inside the hut,
Noirtier, who is on watch, is reclining at full length on
the camp bedstead opposite the mirror-table, glancing
occasionally in its direction, and meanwhile giving snatches
from French " cafe chantant " songs, containing allusions
to " la gloire and la patrie." Schultzer is at the writing-
table making up the log, whistling, in between successful
lengths of composition, his nearest approach to the latest
popular airs about London, with a passing souvenir of
" Wacht am Ehein." Outside, Sua is seated on a case on
the concrete basement by the door, engaged in mending
a very delicate fishing-net with a needle and fine twine.
He is also contributing his share to this " hum of harmony "
by emitting, in a curious but singularly soft falsetto,
disconnected fragments of a native chant. In the midst
of all this melody I fancy I catch a tune which is familiar
to me, proceeding from the opposite hut, belonging to the
other company, and which has been locked up and tenant-
less hitherto. Presently a native emerges, and slamming
the door behind him, goes off singing " My Grandfather's
Clock," which has obtained a wide but somewhat tardy
colonial popularity.
A little later North looks in on his way from the
governor's to ask if we have any news, but the ship has
not called again yet.
" I see," he says, " that you have got a good many cases
lying about outside the hut. I suppose there is nothing
valuable in them, because, if there is, you are very likely
to find it missing. The natives here are most inveterate

Butterfly Catching. 315
thieves, and only a day or two ago broke into the ware
house of a merchant at Accra, and carried bodily off a
large iron safe. When you have finished your work here;
you will have to keep a watchman always down at the
hut, or else remove the instruments from it altogether."
"The thing would be," says Schultzer, "to put the
door handle in connection with the battery, and then the
intending thief would get a good shock. As it is, I think
they have got a pretty wholesome dread of our instru
ments, notwithstanding the small number who have tried
the effects of them."
" Yes ; something of that kind would be a good idea.
The natives round here have not much respect for law.
Another murdered man was found on the Christiansborg
road this morning, and I don't suppose they will ever
find the murderer of this one, any more than they did
the last."
In the afternoon, I try to catch some of the magnificent
butterflies that keep flying past the hut, with a net ex
temporised from a mosquito veil and a cable sheathing
wire. However, I am unsuccessful, as they sail along at
a tremendous rate with the strong westerly breeze behind
them. Sua is amused at my efforts, and says, " Massa give
me," holding his hand out for the net ; and he is soon
out of sight, careering wildly over the country, heed
less of the burning afternoon sun. Later, he returns with
about a dozen specimens, rather battered about, with
stiff pieces of grass run through their bodies in the place
of pins.
Sunday, August 8th. — The ship is again playing us
false ; but we are now pretty well hardened against the
treatment, and take it almost as a matter of course.

316 On a Surf bound Coast.
Yesterday we shifted our looking-glass from its original
position by the side table to a place just by the door in
order to get a better light. We find, however, that the
change is not advantageous in one respect, for Sua, who
at home does not possess that necessary article for the
toilette table, and who rarely gets a chance of observing
himself in a good mirror, the cheap ones sent out from
England and sold to the natives presenting one's features
in every possible contortion, takes the opportunity now
afforded of halting in front of it and making a survey of
himself. Even when he is taking out a trayful of things
to wash after a meal, if we appear deeply engaged in
conversation, he will pause, tray and all, and indulge his
passion of self-admiration, turning and twisting his head
so as to see himself from as many points of view as pos
sible. Then, if one of us says, " Sua, what you do there ? "
he will give a shamefaced chuckle and disappear pre
cipitately down the stone steps. This morning, when
Noirtier is outside the hut, I am reading, and Schultzer
has his back turned to the door, Sua comes in under some
frivolous pretence, and seeing us apparentlyabsorbed, takes
up his stand for an enjoyable five minutes in front of the
glass. But Schultzer, turning round unexpectedly, sees
him arranging his short curly wool, stroking his meagre
beard, and smiling expansively at his reflection to show
to the full extent his pearly row of teeth.
" Well, Sua," he says, " what you think ? Nice man,
eh, Sua ? "
" Ah ! me nice man ; me nice man, sar ! " with a
pleased smile, and gulping down the flattery with the
easy credulity of the vainest of the weaker sex.
" Well, then, I think that will do for this morning.
And now you might dust the front of the instrument-
table, and mind and don't touch the batteries underneath."

An Accra Washerman. 317
"Yes, sar."
"I say 'don't!'"
" Yes, sar ! No, sar ! Yes, sar ! " And then he bursts
into a delighted giggle, as if he had made the best joke
imaginable and couldn't contain himself any longer. The
proverbial cheerfulness of the nigger is not at all ex
aggerated. They are just like children, very easily
pleased, and ready to laugh at the most trifling incidents.
Christy Minstrel troupes at home sometimes come much.
nearer life in their imitation of voice and gesture than
one who had not seen the originals in their native country
would be inclined to think.
Later in the morning we receive a visit from the washer
man, who brings down Schultzer's washing. In Accra,
washing is one of the few kinds of work that a man will
condescend to do, and so there are no washerwomen but
only washermen. This one is a very fine-looking fellow,
with a big moustache, and short trim beard. He wears a
magnificent red-check cotton garment, that has really
quite a striking effect, and a gay tasselled smoking-cap
adorns his head. Behind him follows a tall assistant,
dressed in more sombre raiment, carrying the clothes in
a wooden trencher on his head, and mute and respectful
in the presence of his master.
" Good morning, sar," begins the latter, taking off his
cap with a polite bow, as all the natives do here who
happen to possess them. " Here you washing, sar. I go
to hotel first. They send me down here."
" Oh, that's my washing, is it ? " says Schultzer, as the
tall assistant lifts the tray off his head and deposits it on
the camp bedstead. " How much is it ? "
" Three shillings a dozen, sar. You can look them over
for yourself."
" Three shillings a dozen ? Nonsense ! I shan't give;

3 18 On a Surf bound Coast.
you all that. Let me count them." There are found to
be four dozen articles, of which about a dozen and a half
are handkerchiefs. " You want twelve shillings for this
lot, do you ? Well, I will give you seven."
This was evidently about as much as the washerman
expected ; for he smiles in a good-natured sort of way,
and replies humouredly, as if he did not wish to dispute
the point, and money was no object with him, " Very well,
sar. If you wish it, sar, you shall do as you say. I will
let you have them at that price ; " and having arrived at
this amicable settlement of the bill, he seems quite de
lighted, and inspects with great interest the instruments
on the table, " You talk with Sierra Leone, then, with
these ? Wonderful great distance ! "
" Yes," replies Schultzer, with a slight inaccuracy with
regard to facts. " The force with which we do it is stored
in those bottles underneath," pointing to the battery.
" Would you like to try a little of it ? "
He smilingly consents, and when he gets the shock is
immensely pleased, and thanking Schultzer profusely, as
if he had done an act of great kindness and condescension,
takes his leave, hat in hand, withdrawing gracefully down
the steps backwards as before royalty, managing his train
with great skill, bowing repeatedly, and uttering many
protestations of undying gratitude.
It is a hot day, and the absence of any definite occupa
tion makes the time drag very heavily. It is only two
o'clock, and Schultzer and Noirtier are both asleep. It is
Noirtier's watch, and he has flung himself on the camp
bedstead with that in view, but the heat and the monotony
of the watch have been too much for him, and he has
Succumbed to an overpowering sense of drowsiness.
Schultzer is seated in my Madeira chair, with his feet on
the table, a book in his lap, his head nodding helplessly

' Caught Napping. 319

over his chest. I am seated at the open door, making a
show of reading, but either watching the distant stream
of natives along the high-road, or Sua working at his
never-finished net. Happening to glance round and ob
serve them both asleep, I look at the scale, and see the
spot flying to and fro in great impatience. I go at once
to the instrument to respond, touching Noirtier gently
on the shoulder on my way, and whispering in his ear
the magic word "ship." Be jumps up, rubs his eyes, and
cries out " Sheep, did you say ? " in such excited tones,
that Schultzer wakes up with a start, in the movement
bringing down his feet with a loud clatter on the floor,
and making the spot dance about even more wildly than
before. We are soon in conversation. The ship appears in a
good humour, but, as on the former occasion, conceals her
identity. She even goes so far as to be guilty of — in
direct defiance of all precedent^some little pleasantry
relative to the health of SGhultzer's dog, which he has left
on board. Then she suddenly recollects herself, assumes a
formal tone, and returning to the cold language of official
intercourse, sends a number of messages to be forwarded
home. The heat inside the hut becomes unbearable, as
we are obliged to keep the door and windows shut on
account of the strong wind blowing the curtains aside, and
making the spot invisible.
At this point, a knock is heard at the door, and the
attenuated missionary with glasses comes in, bringing
with him two others whom we have not seen before, one
tall and meagre, the other short and fatuous looking.
Seeing we are busy, they settle themselves in a row on
the camp bedstead, watching us in patient silence, and
running up the heat several degrees higher by their united
presence.

J20 On a Surfbound Coast.

When the messages are through, the ship informs us that
they are about to splice on cable to the eastward shore
end at Cutanu, and expect to finish it and commence
laying towards St. Thome by six o'clock this evening,
when we are to commence regular continuity signals again.
They had just given us " good-bye," and not a word had
been said about our future movements, when the spot is
observed to move again, and we read, "Bertram is re
quired to come on to St. Thome by the first mail."
" That's on Tuesday," says Schultzer. " I don't suppose
I shall follow till the next one, three weeks after," not
looking very cheerful at the prospect of a prolonged
sojourn here.
The heat has now got beyond the powers of endurance
of even our impassive visitors, and they rise to depart.
Schultzer does not press them to stay, as he does not
appear to be in the humour for entertaining them, and
they take their leave. Noirtier complains of a bad head
ache and pain in his limbs. Schultzer has a headache,
and the heat has also affected me, so we are not a very
cheerful party. When dinner arrives, Noirtier sits down,
but is unable to take anything, being now seized with
nausea. We fear he is sickening for fever, aud advise
him to go up to the town, see a doctor, and have a quiet
night's rest at the hotel, while Schultzer and I arrange to
share his watch.

( 321 )

CHAPTEE XXII.
Accra market — "Dash me thrippence" — Native customs — Breakfast
at the hotel — A black majority of three to one — Their views on
politics — My host's experiences in England — -Cricket at " Lloyds "
— Schultzer has a pleasant dream — Preparations for leaving —
Call at a French merchant's — Difficulties of departure — Waiting
for the postmaster — An anxious quarter of an hour — Safe on board
the Octoroon.
Monday, August 9th. — Noirtier returns soon after eight
o'clock, looking somewhat better, and says the doctor gave
him a sleeping draught, and he has had a good night's
rest. As it is the end of my watch, and I wish to make
some preparations at the hotel for my departure, I set
out for the town. On reaching the outskirts, I turn aside
to the right in order to go through the market, which I
have not yet seen. It is held in an open space, without
any shelter from the sun, and with native huts all round.
Every corner is crowded with sellers and buyers, the
former mostly women, sitting or kneeling on the ground
behind their small heap of goods. Among these are a
few chickens, eggs, yams, plantains, bananas, oranges,
bundles of firewood, and the inevitable dried fish. Bound
the edge of the market, on the stalls outside the huts,
are displayed other goods, such as cotton cloth, pins and
needles, small ornaments, and different articles for kitchen
and household use.

322 On a Surf-bound Coast.
As I am moving slowly through with the dense throng,
I meet the elder missionary, who greets me warmly, and
turning to walk in the same direction as I am going, he
begins —
" I suppose you are not here to do any marketing, but
merely to have a look at the place out of curiosity. It
is a very busy scene, isn't it ? and not unpicturesque ; all
the gay and brilliant colours, however much in contrast,
never seeming to clash or be out of taste against the
dark skins of the natives. Fortunately, they don't make
quite so much noise here as they do in a good many native
markets. We can hear each other speak."
At this moment a little nigger boy interrupts the con
versation by holding out his hand in front of me and
saying in curt, decisive tones, "Dash me thrippence,"
with an impatient frown, and more with the air of one
who was demanding a right than entreating a favour.
I offer him a penny, but he regards it with disdain, shakes
his head, and thrusts his hand out further still.
" They won't take copper on this coast, nothing less
than silver ; so a threepenny bit is the smallest present
you can make."
" Indeed," I reply. " I had no idea I was insulting him.
I must apologise. My good little ,boy" I say to him ,
" I am very sorry, but I don't happen to possess a three
penny bit at the present moment, and I don't know
that I can afford to give you half-a-crown, which is the
smallest change in silver I have about me ; so I am afraid
I must defer the pleasure of granting your request till
a more favourable occasion."
He looks rather puzzled at this address, but puts down
his hand and sullenly allows us to move on.
"The natives are very particular about the money they
get. A short time ago a number of new shillings were

The Fantis. 323

unfortunately imported here, and since then they have
become more difficult to please than ever ; and the other
day an old woman refused to take a shilling from me
because it had the likeness of William IV. instead of
Queen Victoria on it. Presently they will be accepting
nothing but the coin of the current year."
" The natives here seem much better looking than any
I have seen along the coast so far."
" Yes, the Fantis, who inhabit the Gold Coast line, are
a very fine race. Their physique is almost perfect — -tall,
with well-shaped limbs ; and their features bear no re
semblance to the ordinary negro type, but are cast in a
more European mould. It may, perhaps, be partially
accounted for by the fact that for many centuries they
have come in contact with white men settling on the
coast, and probably have a large percentage of European
blood in their veins. The tribes further inland — the
Ashantees, for instance — retain the distinctive African
features, and are of a very much lower physiognomy, re
garded from a white man's standard of excellence. More
over, contrary to what one would expect, they are by no
means so fine looking physically."
" They are better warriors, are they not ? "
" Perhaps so. They are still very backward in civilisa
tion. Since the Ashantee war there has been no longer
any market for their slaves, and they get rid of the
surplus by sacrificing them in great numbers at their
large festivals. So the abolition of slavery has not much
improved the outlook of that class in Ashantee."
" What has that girl got that white paint on her
face for ? I have noticed several adorned in the same
manner." "Women and children put on white paint when a
member of their family is away on a journey ; and both

324 On a Surf-bound Coast.
men and women smear their faces with sulphur when they
are suffering from any illness, as a sort of charm agamst
it proving fatal."
" Is there much illness among the natives ? "
" Yes, a great deal, and of very unpleasant varieties.
Small-pox claims a great many victims, and large numbers
succumb every year to consumption. In addition to these
maladies familiar to Europe, the more distinctly local
ones of elephantiasis and guinea worm are very common,
while they suffer from the same intermittent African
fever, which proves almost as fatal to them as it is to
white settlers on the coast. They carry their dead out
into the bush, and bury them with a gin bottle at their
head, so that they may feel that their chief friend in life
has not deserted them in death, but stands by to help
and cheer them as they cross the unknown bourne beyond
the grave."
We had now come to the end of the market, and as
our paths lay in different directions, I take leave of my
interesting informant, and make my way to the hotel.
It is only ten o'clock, and so I write letters till breakfast
is announced shortly before noon.
At table I find the host, Jackson, and the other coloured
gentleman, whom I understand to be also connected with
the legal profession. At the time I enter these two
latter are having a warm dispute with regard to some
point of law, and Jackson is laying down his view of it in
loud conclusive tones, with pauses to select the most
appropriate words in which to give his meaning. One
of the most prominent characteristics of the native
African is the exceedingly high-pitched and excited
voice in which they carry on a conversation. I have
often seen two men of the lower class stand yelling ii
each other's faces with so much apparent warmth that

in

Native Dishes. 325
deadly fight seems imminent, but in a minute or two
you observe them smiling amicably, and then you know
that they were only making inquiries after each other's
families, or exchanging the latest news of the day. The
better educated natives have learnt to modulate their
voices to some extent, but when they get at all interested
in a subject they are apt to fall back into their original
noisy tones.
The host now ventures an opinion on the subject under
dispute between the two lawyers. The latter, however,
annoyed at the presumption of one not in the profession,
swallow their mutual differences, and make a combined
attack upon the rash intruder, and soon they are all
three shouting at each other at the top of their voices
in the same tones and with the same expressions as
their more lowly brethren in the yard beneath, who are
quarrelling over a bale of goods. At this point, how
ever, the soup is replaced by their favourite dish, known
as kous-kous, a large bowl of boiled fish, which is sup
posed to have been prepared in the sun, but which smells
quite putrid, and the argument subsides as they apply
themselves to eat it.
"You do not like our fish," remarks the host to me.
"No, I don't; but what is that you eat with it?"
pointing to a dry yellow substance in a large dish.
" Oh, that is kanki — mashed Indian corn. Would you
like to try a little ? " and he puts a small portion on my
plate. I taste it, and think it very unpleasant, being
something like dry porridge turned sour.
"You don't like it, I see. Try some fou-fou. It is
mashed unripe plantains."
I do ; but with equally disagreeable results.
"Ah, our food is not to your taste. Here is Oko
bringing something you will be able to eat— roast chicken
and poached eggs."

326 On a Surf bound Coast.
When they have discussed the kous-kous— their fingers
playing rather a prominent part in that operation — they
find more leisure again for talking, and the conversation
becomes political, apropos of some difficulties the French
are experiencing with the natives at Grand Bassam.
"I am not surprised," says Jackson, "that things do
not go smooth for them. The French are very despotic
in their dealings with the natives, and treat them in a
very high-handed way. It will do them good to show
them that they cannot act just as they please."
"The French are bad enough," puts in his lawyer
friend, " but they are not so bad as the Portuguese. I
would not live in a Portuguese colony under any induce
ment. The government are always meddling and inter
fering with one's private concerns, and only remain
inactive when you have a real grievance and wish them
to redress it. I think, on the whole, the English are as
good as any."
Being in a majority of three to one, they have almost
forgotten my presence, and begin to talk with greater
freedom. "The English," remarks the host, "are, perhaps, as
you say, the least objectionable ; but why should we be
subject to any foreign government at all ? What have
we done to them that they should come and take pos
session of our country, put their laws upon us in the
place of our own, and impose duties and taxes which go
to swell the imperial revenue. *Tt is not right, and they
may yet learn it to their cost."
Jackson, who I am told was educated in England,
seems particularly bitter against the country.
" Yes, the English rule is by no means an easy burden
to bear. It is not exactly that they maltreat us in any
definite way, or that they do not govern us strictly in

Native Views on Politics. 327
accordance with their sense of justice. The objectionable
aspect of it, and that which most rankles in one's breast,
is the open contempt they have — and are not slow to
express — for us, implying, what they sometimes say out
right, that we are only a lot of niggers, between whom
and themselves it is absurd and useless to draw com
parison. They may find some day that a black man is as
good as a white man, if he is not better." *
Thinking that I have allowed them to expose their
views sufficiently, and not inclined to hear any more
abuse, I recall them to the fact of my presence by saying
to Jackson —
"You have put your case against England very clearly.
To change the subject, may I ask how long you were
there?" He betrays some confusion at being thus reminded of
my nationality, but collecting himself, he replies —
" I was in England some little time altogether. First
of all I went to a Wesleyan school at Sheffield, where I
stayed a year and a half. Then I was five years at the
Temple, reading for the bar."
" How did the climate agree with you ? "
" Remarkably well. I enjoyed excellent health. Never
had a day's illness the whole time I was there. I was at
* A few weeks after I left Accra, there was a disturbance in the
town owing to a dispute between the hotel keeper's son and one of
the English government officials, in which it was said that the former
had been struck. Drums were beaten, a sullen murmur ran through
the town, and within a short time of the occurrence, men came flock- .
ing up, arms in hand, to the hotel, till the courtyard and street close
by were filled. It was, however, nothing serious, rising to a climax
about noon, and disappearing altogether by sunset ; but it was very
universal, and sufficient to show the state of feeling towards the
English among the natives.

328 On a Surf-bound Coast.
the Temple during the general election of 1880, and
voted for the liberal candidate."
"Why didn't you stay in England," asks the host,
" and practise there ? "
Jackson gives me a curious, inquiring look, and then
replies —
" Ah ! you do not know. You would not understand.
However clever one of our race may be, however deeply
•versed in the law, however hard-working and industrious,
it would matter little — he would get no briefs. You
cannot conceive the prejudice existing in these matters
in England. There was only one African who ever
managed to get a practice at the bar there, and no one
knew how he did it. It was at the criminal bar, and he
began with very small cases. Perhaps the only reason
why he was tolerated was because he was amusing, and
put the jury into a good humour with his client."
" I suppose I do not know enough of England," says the
host, " to judge in these matters."
" You, too, have been in England ? " I ask.
" Oh yes ; twice in '82, and again in '84. I have also
visited Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Paris. Paris is a fine
place, but very expensive. I got through a lot of money
there. I think I like London best. There is plenty goino-
on— lots of amusement; and you know how much you
are spending."
" I suppose you went and saw all the sights ? "
"Yes; there are some magnificent public buildings
there. I was very much struck by the Law Courts. I
went over them one day. It was in the time of the
Fenian scares, after the attempts to blow up public
buildings with dynamite. I happened to have a small
black bag with me, and they stopped me at the entrance
I knew why it was, and said, 'It's all right— I'm not an

Mine Host on Cricket. 329
Irishman ; I'm an Englishman ; ' and they all burst out \
laughing at me."
I could not repress a smile at the ingenuous manner
in which he related this story. He perceived it, and
thought I was laughing because I did not believe what
he said.
" Oh, it's quite true, I assure you, it's quite true. I
don't know why they did it, but they all began laughing
at me — they did indeed."
When I had regained sufficient control over my ex
pression, I asked him if he never felt the cold in England.
" Cold ! " he echoed in a shrill falsetto that came
ludicrously near to the intonation of a " bones " of a
christy minstrel corps. " Oh ! Why, it was so hot in
London when I was there last, that I could not stay-
indoors at my hotel, but was obliged to go and sit out
on the Thames embankment to get a little fresh air.
The streets are so narrow, and the buildings so lofty, that
there is hardly any movement of the air perceptible at
all. Now, here we always get a fresh sea breeze. No,
I never have suffered from the heat so much as I did in
London." " Yes, but the country in England is pretty."
" It is excessively pretty ; it is charming ! So fresh,
so green, so well kept! It is almost perfection! And
your country games — cricket and others, of which you
seem so fond, I was much struck by them. In England,"
he continues, turning to the lawyer friend, who had never
been there, " you see them playing cricket all day long —
big grown-up men, just as if they had got no work to do.
I thought that very curious — very curious indeed."
" Yes," puts in Jackson, " I used to like to go and see
them playing at Lloyds. Very nice place, Lloyds ! Very
enjoyable."

330 On a Surf bound Coast.
For the moment I was puzzled to remember any
cricket ground at Lloyds ; but I speedily came to the
conclusion that he must have been referring to a well-
known suburban resort for that pastime, with a somewhat
similar sounding name.
Tuesday, August 16th. — It is nearing the end of my
watch, towards eight o'clock. The other two are still
stretched sleeping on the camp beds, covered with their
rugs. Presently Schultzer wakes up, raises his head,
looks at me, then at the clock, and falls back once more
upon his pillows. But he does not go to sleep, and
after a minute or two he says, in his German accent,
intensified by a slight natural lisp —
" Ah ! I had such a pleasant dream ! I dreamt I was
bowling ! " with a smile of pleased reminiscence playing
round his lips.
I had no idea that Schultzer was a cricketer, and feel
quite interested in this exhibition of enthusiasm for our
great national sport. I was about to ask him for particu
lars of his cricketing career, when he continues —
"Nice game, bowling. I like it very much. Do you
know it, Mr. Bertram ? You have a large wooden ball,
and you roll it along the ground and try to knock over
blocks of wood standing on one end."
"Oh, 'skittles,' you mean," somewhat abating my
admiration. " Yes ; I have heard of ' skittles.' "
" Very good game, isn't it ? "
" Well, yes. Can't say, though, that I have played it
much." "Do you know skittles, M. Noirtier?" evidently dis
appointed in me, and turning to that gentleman, who is
now awake, and appearing to take a languid interest in
the subject under discussion.

Call at a French Merchant's. 331
" Skeetles ? No ! " in a tone which implied, " and I
don't want to, either," while he turns over and composes
himself afresh to slumber.
To-day the outward mail for St. Thome, by name the
Octoroon, in which I am to leave Accra, is due. She is
not yet in sight; but as she only stays two hours, I
prepare for my departure. I am sorry to leave my two
companions in the middle of the watch ; but as the ship
has been paying out cable from Cutanu continuously
since Sunday at 6 p.m., we reckon that she will reach
St. Thome in another twenty-four hours, when the watch
will be concluded. After bidding them good-bye, I take
Sua with me to carry such of my possessions as I have at
the hut, and set out for the town. I find North at the
hotel, and he says that he intends leaving for St. Thome
by the same mail as I do, of which I am very glad, as I
did not expect to be so fortunate as to have him for a
companion. St. Thome* is only two days' steam from
Accra in a direct line ; but as the mail steamers go round
the Bight of Benin, calling at several of the oil rivers to
discharge cargo, we are not timed to arrive there till
twelve days after leaving Accra.
When breakfast is finished, as there is no sign of the
steamer, North says, "I will take you to call on M.
Blanquiere, who is a merchant here. He is a Frenchman
by birth, but was brought up in Spain. He is a very
good sort. I met him at the agent's a day or two ago."
Leaving the hotel, we reach, in the centre of the town,
a large house, which seems to be a relic of the prosperous
slave days. We pass under an archway in a large court
yard, round which runs a wide balcony. M. Blanquiere
greets us from the top of the staircase attached to it, and
invites us up. He is a middle-aged man, very hale
looking, considering he has been, as he tells us, twenty

332 On a Surf-bound Coast.
years on the coast. He conducts us into a fine room, the
whole house being planned on a large and commodious
scale. Here we find Wilton, the superintendent of the
other company. M, Blanquiere's English is not very
good, and he commences talking Spanish with North, who
acquired that language on the west coast of South
America. Wilton also speaks it, having learnt it in Spain.
A lady now appears, whom M. Blanquiere introduces
in French, as his daughter-in-law. Fortunately she
speaks English, and as she knows the coast very well, I
gain some interesting information with regard to the
places I am expecting to visit. She considers St. Paul
de Loanda the best town on the coast, and also has a very
favourable impression of St. Thome, where she tells me
there is lots going on — a public band playing in the praca
three times a week, and the people being very hospitable
and giving frequent dances and other entertainments.
The other three, who started in Spanish, and went for
some twenty minutes into French, have now got on to
Italian, which North and Wilton picked up in Alexan
dria from the large Italian colony there, and which
M. Blanquiere speaks fluently, as he seems to do all the
Eomance languages. Afternoon tea soon appears, and we
enjoy the first good cup of that beverage since we left
England— tea on board ship never seeming quite a suc
cess, and as made at our hotel is very poor stuff indeed.
We now take our leave and return to the hotel. It is
nearly sunset, and the steamer is not yet in sight. I am
told that even if she did arrive now, she would not sail
till next morning ; so I determine to go back to the hut
in order to help them as long as possible in their watch.
I find them rather depressed after a tedious day, and
volunteer to take the next watch, from 8 to 12 p.m., as' well
as my ordinary watch, from 4 to 8 a.m.

"Specie" on the Coast. 333
Wednesday, August 11th. — When I go on watch again
at four, I see the lights of a vessel anchored off the town,
and at daybreak, about a quarter to six, the gun is fired.
I conclude it is the Octoroon ; and saying adieu once more
to my companions, I leave the hut in great haste, as I
don't know how soon she may be off again.
At the hotel, which I reach shortly after six, there was
not a soul stirring, as if the arrival of a mail was a matter
of the supremest indifference to them. I then go to the
agent's to take my passage. They tell me they can't let
me have it yet, as they don't happen to know how much
it is, but that some one will be ashore from the steamer
soon, and then they will be able to arrange it. Meanwhile,
they assure me that there is plenty of time, as she will
not be leaving for three or four hours. I then call at the
post-office to see if there are any letters for me from
home, but I hear that the mail bags are not yet landed.
Prom the post-office I proceed to the hotel keeper's
second house, where North has taken up his residence the
.last few days. I find him in the gitting-room surrounded
by boxes and trunks, which Peter is packing to the best
of his ability, while his master is refreshing himself with
his morning cup of cocoa, and occasionally issuing an
order with regard to the work on hand. On seeing me
he invites me to join him, and says —
" I suppose we have got plenty of time. There is a lot
for me to do yet. I sent Peter round just now to get a
cheque for £40 cashed at the agent's. There is a great
scarcity of money in Accra, and they had only got a few
pounds, so they referred me to the government treasury.
Here I was informed that they had nothing but three
penny bits, which is the favourite coin on the coast. I
was very badly in want of money, so I said I would take
them, if they would let me have them. They began

334 On a Surf-bound Coast.
counting out their store and came to the end of the supply
after £ 35's worth. So I took that, and there they are.
Big case full, isn't it ? and very heavy ; you try."
" Yes, it is a good weight, and not the most convenient
form of carrying money about. However, it is better than
no money at all. I must be getting back soon to look
after the packing of my own property."
After the refreshment, I start off again. On my way,
I see there are now two steamers anchored off the town,
and call once more at the post-office, but am told now
that neither of them is the Oetoroon for St. Thome. At
the agent's they appear to be under the impression that
one of them is the Octoroon, but they cannot give me a
passage yet, as, although agents for the line of steamers
to which she belongs, they know very little about the
passages and have not even taken the trouble to ascertain
the names of the steamers off the town. At the hotel
they know nothing of the matter at all, and don't seem to
care. Putting all this together, I come to the conclusion
that the Octoroon has not yet made her appearance ; and
when I have got all my traps ready I turn in and have
a quiet read. At half-past ten I hear a gun fired, and
about eleven I go down to the beach to see if a third
steamer has arrived. I don't see one, however, and ask
a custom's house officer when he expects the Octoroon to
come in.
" The Oetoroon ? " he cries ; " why, she's been here
since six o'clock this morning, and fired her gun and
hoisted her Blue Peter for departure almost an hour
ago. You will have to be quick if you want to catch her
now." " The Oetoroon here after all ! Well, this is a pretty
town ! The post-office clerks don't know what mails are
in, the steamship company's agents are not any better

Difficulty in getting off. 335

informed, and no one seems to care a brass farthing
whether they call here or whether they don't. I suppose
I had better go and get my luggage."
I return at once to the hotel and get my things taken
off in a hand cart to the beach. Here I find Peter with
his master's luggage, and shortly after North himself
appears, saying that he, too, has been unable to get a
passage from the agent's, and that we shall have to settle
the matter with the purser on board.
The next difficulty was how to get on board. There
were only three surf-boats manned. Two of these were
away at the ships ; the third was just shoving off with a
heavy load of cargo for the homeward mail. To make
matters worse, the Octoroon, which we have now had
pointed out to us — the anchorage is nearly a mile from
the beach — is blowing her whistle as a final signal of her
departure. " This looks pleasant, doesn't it ? " remarks North. " If
we miss this we shall have to wait three weeks, for the
next." "If I miss it, I shall probably have to wait three
months, as the next mail would not get me to St. Thome
in time to take any further part in the cable laying this
expedition, and I should then have to remain here till
the ships return on their way back."
In this predicament we see a native crew, which have
just made their appearance, leisurely rolling over a fourth
surf-boat down the beach towards the sea, and North,
recognising the boatswain as being one in the agent's
employ, he says —
" Ah ! you are just the man we want. You can take
us off to the Octoroon''
" Yes, sar ! Very well, sar. But we must wait for the
postmaster, sar. He come with the mails. He has

336 On a Surf-bound Coast.

-engaged this boat. We could not go without him,
sar." " Where is he ? I don't see him. We can't wait for
him. Didn't you hear the ship whistling just now ? She
will be off in a minute or two. The postmaster can come
in another boat." And we scan the Octoroon anxiously to
see if she is making any signals.
The boat is by this time down at the water's edge,
washed every now and then by the rising swell, and our
luggage is being rapidly put on board of her. Peter gets
in, and we have seated ourselves ready for them to shove
off, when the whistle once more shrieks forth.
" This is getting too much of a good thing," says North.
" Look here, boatswain, you just shove off sharp, do you
see?" " Yes, sar ! Postmaster coming, sar ! We go soon, sar ! "
" Confound the postmaster ! We're not going to miss
the steamer for him. Shove off at once, I tell you ! "
And the boatswain, seeing that North is getting very
much in earnest, and fearing to excite his wrath any
further, reluctantly gives the signal to launch her. The
keel of the boat grates along the sandy bottom till the
wash runs up and floats her, when the men vault over
the sides into their places, and we paddle quietly out
into the comparatively smooth water towards the spot
where the rollers break.
At this moment we hear a wild cry from the shore,
and looking round we see an excited native in postal
uniform hurrying headlong down the steep path to the
beach, waving the mail bags over his head, and beckoning
for us to come back for him. The boatswain has just
given the order to stop, when the whistle blows for the
third time, and North jumps on to his feet, turns round,
and grasping Peter's big stick menacingly in his hand'
cries out —

Waiting for the Postmaster. 337
" Look here, boatswain, if you value that thick head of
yours at all, go on at once."
This address so terrifies the boatswain, that he assumes
a suppliant posture, urges his men on, and says hurriedly —
" Yes, sar ! We go at once, sar ! We go quick."
We are soon through the line of breakers, and looking
round I see the postmaster putting off in a native canoe.
The boatswain has also observed the same thing, and
fearing all sorts of dreadful penalties for this open dis
regard of a government official, he covertly makes signs
forthe canoe to come up, all the time, however, shouting
and making a great noise, as if he were urging his men
on at their fullest speed. The canoe is soon up to us, the
postmaster and his bags hauled over in a confused mass,
and at last we start in real earnest for the ship. The
postmaster, as soon as he bas found his feet, begins lament
ing that he has forgotten his flag, which he uses when
he goes off with mails, and by which the steamer may
recognise him and wait for us. We are too far off for them
to tell whether we are bound for them or for the home mail,
which is anchored close astern of them. About half way
out we meet a boat coming from the Octoroon. When it
draws near, we see it contains five young Englishmen.
" These must be the clerks," says North, " whom I ex
pected out this mail ; but as they did not come ashore
before, I concluded they were not on board of ,her. I
wonder what has kept them all this time. I wanted to
see them particularly. Well," he continues, as they are
now close enough to see them distinctly, " if that isn't a
man who used to be on the west coast of America when
I was there ; and now the first clerk I see on the West
Coast of Africa is that same fellow again. Very curious,
that!" By this time their boat is alongside, North gives them

538 On a Surf bound Coast.

their instructions in a few words, and we are once more
on our way.
There has been a suspicious silence on the part of the
ship's whistle during the last few minutes, and, looking at
her bows, I see that her anchor is up, while the white
column of water pouring from her condenser shows that
the engines are at work. The situation is getting frantic,
and recalls dread nightmares, in which you are just on
the point of overtaking some one it is of the utmost im
portance for you to see, when at the last moment they
vanish from your sight. Fancy waiting three weeks or
three months for being three minutes late ! It is horrible
to contemplate. And North jumps up on to a thwart, and
steadying himself by catching hold of Peter's wool, he
waves a big umbrella with frantic energy above his head,
shouting out, " Oetoroon, ahoy ! " at the top of his voice,
without considering that the sound would not penetrate
half the intervening distance. He has just tumbled back
into the boat, partly through exhaustion, partly because
Peter removed his wool, and partly in despair, when we
observe that the water is no longer issuing from the con
denser, and we conclude that they have at length caught
sight of us. The men redouble their efforts, we dash
through the foaming water till we get alongside, when
the pilot ladder is flung out to us, we scramble on board,
and the luggage is hauled up quickly after us. Then,
having rewarded the clamouring boatmen, they slide
down the rope into their craft, while we mount up on the
poop to get some fresh air after the heat and excitement
of the last few minutes, and as we sink into a deck seat,
we silently congratulate ourselves upon our unexpected
good fortune. THE END.

LONDON :
PRINTED ET WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHASING CBOSS.

%A* W*

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