by
those who regard the justest war with horror and aversion. The
soldiers had set out on that dreadful march through swamp, and bush,
and forest, to fight and bring to the dust a cruel bloodthirsty nation
of savages, contemptuously described by Baden-Powell as "the bully
tribe" of the Gold Coast Hinterland. Instead of finding the bully as
willing to fight as Cuff was willing to face dear old Dobbin, B.-P.
found a cowering, cringing enemy, willing to lick the dust and abase
himself in any manner the ingenious white man might suggest. So it was
with no feelings of elation that the man who had received the pink
flimsy ordering him on active service, who had raised and organised
the Native Levy, who had cut a road through the bush and forest,
draining roads and bridging streams,--turned his back on Kumassi, and
marched King Prempeh to the Cape coast. This march of 150 miles was
accomplished in seven days. Of this expedition B.-P. recalls "ten
minutes' genuine fun,"--that was when a doctor was cutting out from
under his toe-nail the eggs of an insect called the jigger, rude
enough to make a nest of B.-P.'s big toe. It is such incidents as
these that live in the soldier's mind after a hard campaign.

During the whole of these tiresome operations B.-P. of course was hard
at work sketching and keeping his diary. He added to his wonderful
store of experiences, and had the rare delight of seeing the King of
Bekwai "oblige with a few steps"--specially in his honour. But the
story of his work--and it is the same with all the quiet work done by
servants of the Queen in every part of the Empire--attracted little
public notice, and the man-in-the-street had no more idea of B.-P.'s
service than the man-in-the-moon. At that time, indeed, few people
outside official circles had ever heard of his name, and certainly no
stationer would have been mad enough to stick B.-P.'s photograph in
his window. Whether Baden-Powell, when he awakes to it, will prefer
his present fame to the happy obscurity of those distant days, is a
subject for speculation. I could say definitely, if I chose, which
condition is preferred by the proud mother of as gallant a son as ever
rode horse into the African desert.

CHAPTER X

PUTTING OUT FIRE

A Brevet-Colonelcy was conferred upon Baden-Powell for his work on the
Gold Coast,--he was then eight-and-thirty,--and in the same year he
was back at regimental work in Ireland. Hardworking as ever, and keen