With Wolseley to Kumasi: A Tale of the First Ashanti War. Brereton Frederick Sadleir
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He went off with a sniff and a smile, leaving Dick quite well again, but ready now to inflict the direst punishment upon himself for displaying such weakness.
“I could kick myself!” he exclaimed in disgust. “Here am I, in clover, as the doctor says, but till half an hour ago with starvation before me. I was on my beam ends, and did not know where to look for work or help. And here I am, with a post assured, and every prospect of earning a decent living. And the news upsets me. I’m a donk ey! A fine thing if Mr Pepson had seen me. A nice thing for him to know that his future manager might faint like a girl at the first critical moment. Pah! I wish some one would kick me!”
There was no one at hand to comply with his invitation, and presently the memory of his weakness wore off and Dick fell asleep. A few days later he was far stronger, and when three weeks had passed he was himself again, his arm was out of the splints, and carried in a sling, while, when the doctor or Mr Pepson were not about, he amused himself with using the hand and fingers.
“As well get accustomed to working the limb,” he said to himself, with a smile. “I am sure that the expedition is dallying here till I am well, for that is just like Mr Pepson. He is really grateful, and his liberality is wonderful. I must get this arm out of the sling as soon as possible.”
Another week, in fact, brought the consent of the doctor, whereupon active preparations for the trip up-country were commenced. Meanwhile our hero had learned more of his new friends. Mr Pepson, he found, was a wealthy trader from Sierra Leone, while Meinheer Van Somering was, as he had proudly stated, a native of Elmina. Born and bred there, he spoke the native tongue like his own, and knew the Gold Coast intimately. It was he who had learned of the goldfield on the Pra, and unable to purchase the concession himself, he had sent the information to Mr Pepson. Dick learned to like the Dutchman immensely, to laugh at his comical appearance, his efforts towards dignity, his mighty ways with the natives, and his good temper. He was vastly amused at Meinheer’s other side, at his obvious nervousness, and at his boastful ways and words.
“He is a good friend, and an amusing companion,” said Mr Pepson one day, “and if he has his little faults we must not complain. The truth is that he is no fighter, Dick. When that is said, we have said sufficient. If we meet with trouble we may rely upon his seeking for and finding a secure retreat. We will not count on his help to protect the expedition. After all, it is only fair that the work should be divided. I shall command, and you will aid me. Meinheer is chief interpreter till you have made more acquaintance with the natives, and he will advise us about the mines and their working. Now let us go into the question of the expedition. You know the site of the mines?”
Dick had heard that it was somewhere on the river Pra, and said so.
“It is exactly ninety-four miles from here,” said Mr Pepson, “and is surrounded by dense bush. To get to it we ascend the river Pra till we reach a point on a level with the mines. Then we strike into the jungle. We shall take with us a few sets of hand winding gear, for at present the natives lower themselves into the shafts by their own efforts. The gear we have brought is simple, but it will answer well and save labour. Then we are taking guns and ammunition, rockets, grenades, and a small brass cannon. In addition there will be picks and spades, and iron boxes, in which the gold will be packed. As to conveyances, there is a large launch for our own use, and she will tow a couple of narrow native craft, and more if necessary. Once we have settled there, she will return with us, and will make periodical trips from the mines as soon as you have taken charge. She will be close to your hand, and if you meet with trouble you will know that there is a means of flight, and a way by which you can reach the coast. Now let us see to our personal outfit, for remember, we may be months away, and we are going into parts which try the best of clothing.”
They took their way into the town, for they had been chatting on the beach, where many of the stores for their expedition had been accumulated. Then they went by the road which led to the house which Dick’s father had erected, and which had now passed into the keeping of the two partners. There they found a native tailor, with his wares already spread out on the verandah.
“He is a humble and patient individual,” said Mr Pepson, with a smile, “and he will have carried out my orders to the letter. These natives cannot always cut garments, and for bush work, as for any other, it is essential that one’s clothes should fit easily and well, for otherwise in this hot climate they are apt to chafe. That being the case, I have for years made it a practice to get a stock of clothes when in England, and then allow a native to copy. You understand, he picks a suit to pieces, and makes use of the bits as patterns. He has a couple of suits here for us both. Yours is a copy of one which we found in your room. Come along. Give it a trial.”
This slender, cadaverous-looking Englishman from Sierra Leone seemed to be able to think of everything. Time and again Dick had cause to wonder at his thoughtfulness, his care for others, and particularly for our hero; and long ago he had ceased to do more than murmur his thanks, for Mr Pepson would arrest him at once with a warning finger and a friendly smile.
“What!” he would exclaim, “am I not to be allowed to do something for the comfort of one who saved my life, and that, too, of our stout friend, Meinheer Van Somering? The world is indeed an ungrateful place if one is to receive such an act with only passing thanks, to reward it with a nod and a few polite words, and then in the rush which surrounds us to forget the deed and the one who gallantly performed it. Surely there is as much pleasure in remembering a brave act and a good friend as in anything. I hold that a gentleman never forgets his debts of gratitude, for they are indeed debts of honour, which can never be settled too completely.”
And Dick would become silent, though now and again he would lamely protest that he had done nothing at all.
“That is your modesty, Dick,” would be the answer. “I may say the same. I have done nothing more than any business man would do. You are to be my agent. I have a big stake in these mines, and I wish all to go well. Consequently, to avoid future loss, I equip my agent with the best and see to his welfare.”
There was no arguing with such a man. He would smile that dry smile of his and would turn away. But Dick did not forget. If Mr Pepson was grateful, so also was he, for he was indeed in clover. He saw work before him, hard work, too; for he had been given to understand that the post of agent would be no sinecure. Then he was now a partner with Mr Pepson and the Dutchman in the store which his father had had for so many years. It had reopened already with a flourish. A manager had been appointed, and there were prospects of reviving the business, so that Dick might look forward to an income. Then he had been credited with a good sum, which Mr Pepson had insisted was the value of the partnership, while a further sum was to be paid every year in the way of rent for the residence. And now, as if that were not enough, here was a complete outfit. Dick donned the clothes which the native had prepared, and stepped into the centre of the verandah for Mr Pepson’s approval.
“You will do well,” said the latter, when he had surveyed him critically. “The stuff is some which I imported specially. It is a dark cloth, as you observe, and, while being thin and light, it is strong, and to a certain extent waterproof. It will stand the thorns in the jungle, and better perhaps, should we meet with trouble, you will find that it does not make the wearer conspicuous. There is a green shade in it, and that will be difficult to detect against the foliage. Now the hat. That will do, too. It is made of the same material, and is just the thing for the jungle. A topee would be in the way, and besides, the sun does not penetrate very much, and, indeed, is often not to be seen. You will carry a topee in your kit for open spaces.”