We reached Kano on Sunday, the 7th of February, having decided to sleep the night before at a tiny village a few miles out, as one of our ponies had broken loose and could not be re-captured until late in the afternoon. This small mishap was extremely fortunate for us, as a matter of fact, as we afterwards heard that at the very hour when, had we not been delayed, we should have ridden up to the Residency gate at Kano, a curious and unpleasant scene was taking place there.
A native soldier had been confined in the guard-room on account of insolence and insubordination. While there, he coolly possessed himself of a rifle and a pouch full of ammunition, and darted out of the guard-room, the bewildering suddenness of his action apparently paralysing the guard for the moment. He rushed out on to the parade ground, shrieking vengeance on all ‘Batures’ (Englishmen), calling to them to come and be shot, brandishing his rifle,—evidently quite insane and ‘running amok.’ Taking careful aim, he shot dead five horses tethered in the shade, belonging to his officers, and his shooting was so straight that most natural reluctance was displayed by his comrades in the matter of his re-capture. He actually sent a bullet through the doorway of the hospital hut, possibly seeing some one moving there. Finally the unfortunate lunatic was shot down, having been successfully ‘stalked’ from behind trees and other cover. It was a nasty occurrence, and much relief was expressed at our non-appearance at such an awkward moment.
On arrival we found every one very sad and anxious about Captain Abadie, who was lying very ill. He did not improve during the two days we spent there, and, shortly after leaving, we heard, to our sorrow, of his death,—a loss to Nigeria and his friends which could never be over-estimated.
At Zaria we met many old friends, but stayed one night only, as we were anxious to lose no time in getting down country. It was wretched there then, in a tent, with a strong Harmattan blowing clouds of sand into our eyes, filling every crevice, and covering our food before we had time to eat it, even with the greatest expediency!
At Karshi we had the good fortune to meet Captain Robinson and Major Porter, going North. We had tea with them at their camp, outside the town, and in the evening they came and dined with us, only stipulating that they should be allowed to contribute to the feast; and I shall always remember the procession that preceded the arrival of our guests,—‘boys’ carrying chairs, lanterns, Lager beer in buckets of cold water, roast guinea-fowls, and a box of chocolates! We had a most cheery dinner, and sat talking into the small hours, and even managed to breakfast all together the next morning before going our several ways. It is one of the pleasantest of my many pleasant memories in this country,—the spontaneous friendly kindness of two complete strangers, as they were then, coming at a time when most needed, for our spirits were almost as low as our provisions, and the bull-terrier pup had distemper! I do not suppose the two people concerned realized then, or do now, what a difference they made in our outlook on life at that time,—if not, I make them a present of the information now!
On the 28th of February, we found ourselves once more in Zungeru. A vacant bungalow was lent to us, and we spent a few days there very comfortably, in spite of the excessive heat. We heard with dismay of the terrible disaster in the Bassa country, where Captain O’Riordan and Mr. Burney lost their lives. My husband received orders to take over the Kabba Province once again, and we started on the last stage of our long journey. The noisy little train rattled us back to Barijuko; we embarked in a steel canoe, and commenced to paddle and drift down the Kaduna. The river was very low, and we stuck continually on the sandbanks, when the polers all turned out into the water, not more than seven or eight inches deep, and literally dug out the canoe till she was once more afloat. We were overtaken the next day by a second canoe, containing Captain Wright (who had won a V.C. in the Kano Expedition) invalided, home, and three others. Each evening we ‘tied up’ in company, and had cheerful ‘sand-bank’ dinner-parties. It was very placid and delightful travelling; I suppose we were both rather tired, and, for the first time in my life, I found huge enjoyment in doing absolutely nothing, beyond watching the river banks and sunlit water.
At Mureji there was quite a gathering, and—a thing unknown—a collection of five ladies! Dr. and Mrs. Thompstone were there, on their way to Zungeru, and three Nursing Sisters, travelling up and down. We met some old friends, and were quite a gay party, but it was a sad day for me,—my beloved baby ostrich was suddenly taken ill, wandering about as usual, on the bank, and, in spite of the greatest kindness shown me by Dr. Miller of the C.M.S., who was on board, the poor little bird died in a few hours. It seemed piteous indeed, when he had travelled so far without a single mishap, and I was bitterly grieved at the loss.
It was, however, a great delight, under any circumstances, to see the Niger again; as the Corona sped down stream, every bush and rock seemed familiar, and to be welcoming us ‘home’ to Lokoja. We settled down in our former bungalow, and, in a few weeks, I could hardly believe that we had travelled all those hundreds of miles in the past six months. The much-talked-of North country had considerably disappointed us in its appearance; and, with the exception of Kano and Hadeija, I think I can safely say that neither of us has the least desire to see any part of it again.