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"To The Gold Coast for Gold, Vol. II A Personal Narrative"


So simple a process is eminently fitted for the Gold Coast.]--a total of
sixty-eight ounces to twenty-five tons.
After an hour's paddling we sighted a few canoes and surf-boats under a
raised clay-bank binding the stream on the left. This was Tumento
(Tomento), our destination; the word means 'won't go,' as the rock is
supposed to say to the water. The aspect of the Ancobra becomes gloomy and
menacing. The broad bed shrinks to a ditch, almost overshadowed by its
sombre walls of many-hued greens; and the dead tree-trunks of the channel,
ghastly white in the dull brown shade, look to the feverish imagination
like the skeleton hands and fingers of monstrous spectres outspread to bar
thoroughfare.
We landed and walked a few yards to the settlement. A 'Steam-launch'
sounds grandiose, and so does a 'Great Central Depot'--seen on paper. And
touching this place I was told a tale. Some time ago two young French
employes, a doctor and an engineer, were sent up to the mines, and fell
victims to the magical influence of the name. Quoth Jules to Alphonse, 'My
friend, we will land; we will call a _fiacre_; we will drive to the local
Three Provincial Brothers; we will eat a succulent repast, and then for a
few happy hours we will forget Blackland and these ignoble blacks.


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