these natives of Africa often show less sensitiveness to pain
than do Europeans, and therefore can put up with injuries which with the
majority of white men would prove quickly fatal. And so, in spite of
the hours that these men had been dangling, they were able to march, for
the wounds in the cheeks were of small consequence. When day dawned
many miles intervened between themselves and Kumasi.

"We will seek for a hiding place and rest," said Dick, as the light
beneath the trees grew stronger. "As the afternoon comes we can push on
again. Let us gather some fruit and have a meal."

Late on the following afternoon three weary men, one a white youth
dressed in tattered clothing which showed signs of much travelling,
tottered across the bridge which the engineers had erected across the
Prahsu, and made for the hutted camp of the British. On all sides men
were bustling to and fro. Natives were carrying bales and boxes on
their heads, sailors and soldiers were lolling about the open camp
fires, smoking their pipes and yarning, while at the far side of the
bridge was a kilted sentry, striding to and fro. He stared at the
new-comers, brought his rifle from the slope, and dropped the bayonet
level with Dick's chest.

"Not so fast, me lad," he said gaily. "Where from? Whom do you want to
see? 'Alt, or there's going to be trouble."

That brought them up suddenly and set Dick laughing.

"A fine welcome after two months' absence," he said. "Sentry, I want to
see the Chief of the Staff, and after that Mr Emmett. As for where
I've come from, Kumasi is the answer. Now, how long have you been
here?"

"My business, young feller," was the reply, when the sentry had
recovered from his astonishment at being answered in his own tongue, for
Dick might have been of any nationality. "Yer want the chief, do yer?
'Ere, Corporal McVittie, take these fellers to the sergeant of the
guard."

A little later our hero, with his two black companions, was being
marched under escort in amongst the huts, and was finally brought to a
halt opposite a collection of tents devoted to the use of the leaders of
the expedition. There were British officers standing or sitting in
front of many of these, while the dress of some showed that they
belonged to the Royal Navy. At one end of the line a Welsh Fusilier
paced his solitary beat, while a blue-jacket, burly and heavily bearded,
did sentry duty at the other end. And it was this latter in