of trade. A lady who leaves her fan
behind her, gets it back again now. In the
good old times she would have had to buy
another.

BUSH AND BEACH.

IN the summer of eighteen hundred——
and any other number the reader pleases,
I was residing at Oke Amolo, on the
west coast of Africa. Oke Amolo resembles
all the other British settlements on that
coast. There are healthy situations and
there are unhealthy situations; the British
choose the latter. There are lovely spots
on the coast, lying high and dry, over
which the pure breezes from the plains and
the invigorating sea-air sweep alternately;
and there are low-lying, pestilential places,
shut in by hills, poisoned by the miasma of
the swamp and the bush, difficult of improvement,
impossible to be rendered favourable
to health. An irresistible suicidal tendency
leads us to these parts. It is, therefore,
unnecessary to give any further account of
Oke Amolo than to say that it is a British
garrison on the west coast. As Oke
Amolo resembles Trawaw and Olorin and all
our other possessions, so does life at Oke
Amolo resemble life in any and all of them;
and it is a life calculated to wear away the
powers of endurance of the most patient of
men. For fifteen months I had borne it.
Every morning, for fifteen months, the boom
of the gun and the shrill bugles had informed
me that it was five o'clock and time to rise;
and I had obeyed and had risen—when I was
not down with the fever. For fifteen months
I had taken a morning walk on the battery
to enjoy the cool morning air; and really
this walk would have been delicious if it had
not been for the abominable smell from the
beach, and if the view had been a little more
extensive and had included objects of greater
interest than a few mud houses, the pigs, the
dogs, and the niggers.

For fifteen months I had returned from
my morning walk to take a bath: of which
the ingredients were six or seven fresh limes
cut in two, a bunch of native sponge (a coarse
woody fibre), and as much water as I could
get. Of course there is a scarcity of water
at Oke Amolo, and the water for washing and
drinking is obtained from tanks filled during
the rainy weather. It would be difficult to
point out the advantages of this system.
The disadvantages are, that we have a
limited supply and require unlimited lime
to keep it pure. For fifteen months, after
the bath, I had taken breakfast; and,
after breakfast, had proceeded to the
business of the day. The farce the word
business becomes, when applied to anything
said or done or thought of at Oke Amolo, I
will not weary the reader by attempting to
describe.

The day and the business, are got through,
and then, at four p.m., comes the constitutional.
Now, there are three walks at Oke
Amolo. The road to the Salt Pond, the
Bi-olorum-pellu road, and the road to
Shakara. The road to Shakara lies inland
and is very hot; but, in itself, is prettily
chosen. It leads past a house standing in a
small plain, and with a magnificent avenue
of umbrella-trees in front of it. Many a
pleasant pic-nic has been held under these
trees, many a loyal toast given, and many a
merry dance enjoyed. We are not likely to
forget our partners in the dance nor our
friends at the festival; for we pass the little
burying-ground on our way home, and their
names are engraved on the tombstones. The
Bi-olorum-pellu road lies between two hills
there is not a breath of air to be had, but
there are plenty of flies, combined with a
strong smell from the bush.

The road to the Salt Pond is decidedly
the best and the pleasantest. It runs parallel
to, and about three hundred yards distant from
the sea, for about a mile and a half, and
cocoa-nut palms on each side form a splendid
avenue. The Salt Pond itself is a small
lagune, about a mile in length and half that
in breadth, surrounded by stunted mangroves
growing to the water's edge. At the Salt
Pond there are generally ten or twelve
men, up to their waist in water, fishing
with a net. They catch a fish about the size
of a whitebait which, stewed in palm-oil, is
very delicious.

For fifteen months, then, after having—
whenever fever permitted it —taken a
constitutional, I returned just as the bugles
were sounding the retraite, and dressed for
dinner. There, in the tropics, after having
indulged throughout the day in the airiest and
most fantastic of costumes, we dress for
dinner. But why we should be compelled to
swelter in a shell-jacket at that particular
meal, nothing but the united wisdom of the
Horse Guards and the Commander-in-Chief.
can explain. Do it, however, we must;
taking it off, an hour afterwards, literally
wet through, and using much strong
language in reference to those in authority over
us.

All this I had borne, with no other change
or variety than that from health to sickness,
and from sickness back again to health, and
the constant recurrence of these changes had
begun to be monotonous even. But, at the
end of fifteen mouths, I received an urgent
summons from the commandant of
Ogbomoshaw, and I determined to leave Oke
Amolo at sunset of the same day.
Ogbomoshaw is also on the coast. It stands on
the great river Ogbomoshaw, and is
distant about fifty miles from Oke Amolo.
The road, or rather track, lies partly through
the bush, partly by the beach; and the only
mode of conveyance is by a hammock,
slung on a pole, and carried by four or six.
bearers.