CHAPTER III 
West Coast of Africa—Cape Coast Castle—Krooboys—New 
Benin—Nana Alluma—Old Calabar—Collecting butterflies 
—Driver ants. 
The Red Gods call me out and I must go!—Rupyarp Kuirtine. 
N 1894, the spirit of unrest being still upon 
me, I accepted the post of Private Secretary 
to Sir Claude Macdonald, and accompanied 
him in that capacity to Calabar, the capital 
of what was in those days ‘“ The Oil Rivers 
Protectorate,’ West Coast of Africa. | 
At Cape Coast Castle we went ashore, my 
chief having to pay a visit to the Governor. 
Here all the cargo for that port had to be trans- 
ported in surf boats, the bows and sterns of 
which are both pointed, somewhat like those of 
a whale boat, but infinitely larger and broader, 
and managed by the native crews with remark- 
able dexterity. The water is comparatively 
shallow, but at times large “ rollers,” as they 
are called, come in, and make communication 
with the land practically impossible. 
On the occasion of our landing we had quite 
an exciting experience, as the seas were coming 
in in unbroken swells, which had not the char- 
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