6 
MISSIONARY LIFE IN ASHANTEE. 
silence reigned in its deserted streets, which were strewn 
with broken fragments, while every house was so still 
that the bleating of a kid was a welcome sound, and 
cheered me as I retraced my steps homewards. We kept 
lights burning and shutters open, trying in vain to obtain 
a little sleep ; the wind, always high on our hill, was 
especially boisterous that night, and most anxiously did 
we long for day. 
It came at length, and weary and worn as we were 
with painful watching, we began to prepare our early 
meal. Milking the goats was, after several attempts, found 
to be an impossibility, our store of condensed milk we 
dared not use, for it was our sole dependence for our 
baby, so we hid the precious tins. Mid-day passed, still 
the same dreadful silence prevailed ; for miles around 
there was no sign of life ; we were alone on our hill top. 
Restlessly wandering backwards and forwards we looked 
and listened ; the cry even of a bird startling us. Thus 
the day wore on, our only employment throughout its 
long hours being to boil a piece of meat in as little water 
as possible, for the springs were a mile off, and our 
precious store was nearly exhausted. Once, indeed, during 
the afternoon the report of a gun reached us, and then we 
distinctly heard voices crying, " come, come !" We strained 
every nerve to catch the answers, but they were inau- 
dible, the sounds died away in the distance, and we were 
once more alone, with the prospect of another terrible 
night of watching and suspense. Again we left the lamps 
burning, and soothed by tlie sound of a heavy rain, we 
actually fell asleep, thankful that our most pressing need 
was thus being supplied. 
