I was amused one day at hearing an individual of that ubiquitous genus which goes about asking questions at the most unseasonable times, set down by a native. An Ashanti youth had been drowned while the embassy was crossing the river, and the father of the lad was sitting by the riverside mourning for his dead son, when this individual went up to him, and began, through the medium of his Fanti servant, cross-examining him, with a view to ascertaining what ideas the natives have of a future state of existence. He poked the chief in the ribs with his walking-stick and said, airily:
“So your son was drowned this morning, eh?”
The Ashanti disdained to answer in words, and gave him a look which would have pierced the epidermis of a rhinoceros, but which failed to make any impression on this man. He continued:
“Let me know your ideas of a future state. Do you believe that there is a new life for the soul after death?”
Still no answer, only an angry glitter began to appear in the chief’s eyes.
“Now, do you expect to meet that boy of yours in Hades, eh?”
“Look here, don’t get sulky now. Tell me what your religious belief is.”
“Oh! very well. Don’t say anything if you don’t want to. I expect your son is having a nice time of it now. Pretty hot down where he is now, eh?”
Then the chief rose, and, majestically throwing his cloth around him, said to the Fanti:
“Why do the English allow idiots like this to be at large?” and went away to try and find some place where he could brood over his loss in peace.
One morning the whole camp was convulsed with horror by an accident, which, had it been followed by serious consequences, would have been too awful to contemplate. One of the retinue was playing in his hut with a new toy, to wit a loaded revolver, when he accidentally discharged it. Some malignant demon at once directed the bullet towards the exact spot where would have been the august head of His Excellency, had he been at breakfast; but fortunately he was not there, and the missile sped harmlessly on through a tent, scattering the four or five Fanti clerks who were writing inside. Everybody turned out in alarm and shuddered to think of what would have been the fate of the expedition and the Colony if the gigantic intellect which directed all these stupendous operations had suddenly ceased to be. For future security a guard was at once placed over the Governor’s hut, His Excellency held a _levée_ to assure his well-wishers that he was unharmed, and a deputation of native Colonial officials waited upon him to read an address congratulating him upon his narrow escape, and pointing out, from the fate of the late Czar and the recent accident, that crowned heads, alike in Europe and Africa, were in these days menaced by insidious perils. I do not know what was done to the culprit, but the Queen’s Advocate said that an action for high treason would not lie, and so I believe he was only found guilty of culpable negligence.