I left Mr Speed at the Gidden Gombo rest-house in order that I might push on to railhead the same day. The distance was only 10 miles and the carriers quite fresh and fit at this stage. It is surprising what difference a few miles additional to an ordinary march will effect. Though my men would, of course, have preferred to have stayed at Gidden Gombo with Mr Speed’s carriers, they offered not the slightest demur to going forward; and after stretching themselves on the ground for about 20 minutes they rose willingly and headed their loads with smiles.

There are shirkers and wasters and defaulters among the Hausa carriers, as there are among bodies of men of lighter colour skin; human nature does not become perfect, whatever the externals; but treated properly—by which is meant, with tact, firmness when necessary, and consideration—my testimony is that the Hausas are as good-tempered a class as can be found anywhere, and always ready to respond to whatever call is made upon their endurance.

Do not conclude they are free from frailties and failings found elsewhere. Justice is, however, the talisman for ruling them, justice with self-control, never allowing your temper to master you, be the cause what it may.

This particular gang had been with me nearly four weeks, and it is scarcely probable that in that period there would not be among themselves cases of quarrels brought to the white master for settlement or an occasional act which needed some disciplinary step.

Both were surprisingly few. Only on one occasion was the strong measure taken of striking a blow. The steward boy, Oje, during a temporary halt on the road objected to a carrier sitting on a box containing food, and as the man would not move Oje attempted to draw the box from under him, whereupon he slapped the boy’s face with such force as to make him stagger. Oje responded by hitting with a light cane, and then the carrier—a rather tall fellow—advanced menacingly towards the lad. As he did, I, who unknowing to them happened to be standing by, stepped forward and with a single sharp cut from a short riding whip recalled the carrier to his senses.

A few words of admonition on the cowardice of a big man striking a little one brought approving cries from the gathered circle, and the man expressed his regret on the spot. Later he spontaneously apologised to Oje.

The two horse boys—Kolo and Mama—usually the friends of a common fraternity, sometimes had mutual monetary dealings. The outcome of a transaction of that kind—the loan of 3d.—was a dispute. The alleged debtor, Kolo, asserted he had paid. Persisting in the declaration, Mama flew into such a rage that, in his exasperation, he tore the other’s robe. This was clearly wrong, so, to maintain good order, I awarded Kolo 6d. from Mama’s wages, subsequently, in order that Mama might not feel embittered at the loss, taking care he should do a special service with a reward of 9d.

After the reconciliation which followed the judgment, and notwithstanding my reiteration of Polonius’ advice to Laertes, rendered colloquially, a week later a feud broke out between the same two over the loan of a penny. The matter was brought for my decision. To have gone into the question would have incurred very much longer time than could be spared, so, warning each disputant against a resort to violence—threatening to have both punished if they fought and to have the one who hit first thoroughly flogged—I told them that, as the trek would end in a couple of days, they must take what would possibly be regarded as a local cause célèbre to the court of the Alkali, the native judge.

The Headman of the carriers, Dan Sokoto, was quite a character, as most Headmen are. He was a strong contrast to Headman Hanza, with whom I first set out on trek. Still, I got to like Dan. Rather under the height of most Hausamen and an age that would be looked upon by them as old, he was wiry and as alert as the youngest. He did not wear a turban, like the stately Hanza, but affected a white embroidered linen cap, conical shape, cocked rakishly to incline to the right eye. His goatee beard he would stroke whilst he smiled benignly when the steward or the cook asked for the money which Dan made a point of getting either as a temporary personal accommodation or to buy for them some extraordinary bargain of clothing or a sleeping mat from any market we happened to be passing. Dan was always ready with a reason why the purchase was deferred and why he should in the meantime retain the money.

His industry was to be admired. Whenever we stopped, whether it be for a few minutes or as a rest in the course of a long day’s march, out would come his needle. He plied it incessantly either in making himself nether garments or in fancy woolwork. At both he acquitted himself well.

Dan started his service badly. I had engaged 20 carriers. Dan turned up with 22. Asked why the requisite number was exceeded, he answered that the loads were too heavy to be apportioned to the lesser figure. As he had not seen them, it was unmistakably an attempt to have more men under him than I considered necessary. He would no doubt have drawn an illicit commission from the wages of the couple unwarrantably enrolled.

The superfluous couple were dismissed. Really, made up into about 60-lb. loads, only 18 men would have been wanted, but going away for a month from the chance of refilling any vacancy, it was desirable to have two spare men in case any of the others fell ill. In order that all might do their share as long as possible, the loads were arranged into 20 divisions.

At the close of the first day’s trek I called Dan Sokoto and told him I did not at all relish the trick he had tried and that if anything of the kind occurred again I would send him back and appoint another Headman.

The answer was characteristic. He did not attempt to justify his conduct. He said he was sorry for what he had done; that he hoped to remain with me; that if I forgave him I would have no further cause for complaint. Put in a more blunt way, he meant, “I tried to get the better of you; I failed. There is no necessity to make a fuss about the thing; let it pass and allow me to serve you.” So I regarded the matter.

Perhaps I should apologise for making this digression from the narrative, but progression on trek depends so much on one’s carriers that I thought these glimpses into their personality and manners might be of interest.

I have mentioned that a few miles added to a normal march will occasionally mean much more than the distance appears. Though the men went on from Gidden Gombo buoyantly and light-heartedly, after a couple of hours, with the sun’s rays increasing in power, the pace fell off considerably. The men held on bravely and were as good-tempered as ever, but were unable to maintain the rate, and by the time we had entered the last five miles there were signs of distress among some. I encouraged and stimulated them, referred to this being the end of their present efforts; joked of the “dash”—i.e., present—to be given when we reached Rahama and of their having light work, or none to do, the next day.

The heat and dust had become very trying, and although the carriers could march easily in the early mornings bearing their loads for 10 or 12 miles without a stop over fairly rough roads, they were now so done up on this last stretch that in the final 5 miles they had to rest three times.

It would have been easier for me to have cantered on, but I felt it due to the excellent fellows with whom I had been across and back over the Plateau for so many days to stay with them; and so together we at last reached Rahama; again saw a railway, and found Mr Garrard, the local senior representative of the Niger Company, as cheery as ever. The men, each carrying at least 60 lbs. weight on his head, had covered 26 miles in a typically torrid temperature.

It was well the march had been maintained, as the weekly train was to leave at 8 a.m. the following morning.