Presently the chief, Mra Kwami, announced to us that we had reached the
northern boundary-line of the estate. He now would have left us, as it is
not customary, when gold is in question, for one head-man to enter
another's country. We succeeded, however, in persuading him to show us the
other side of the river. A short walk up and down hill led to the ford of
the 'Yenna,' the native name, probably a corruption of 'St. John.' It lies
a little above the dyke where the stream breaks into a dwarf fall, and
below the crossing where a ferry formerly plied. We now found a regular
river, no longer a lagoon-stream; the clear water, most unlike the
matter-suspending and bitumen-coloured fluid of the lower bed, was
beautified by lilies with long leaves and broad flowers of virgin white.
We rode the Kruboys pick-a-back across the broken reef through which the
stream bursts and brawls, and walked a few paces up the left bank to the
Kumasi [Footnote: The Ashantis translate the word 'under the Kum-tree;'
the Fantis make it mean 'slay all.'] village. It had been lately deserted;
but we found there Kwako Benta, headman of Ajamera, who had spent a week
in forcing the deserters to rejoin the corps.
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