Then ask not if he wakes again:
He meddled not in things too deep;
And Nature, after joy or pain
Gives nothing half so kind as sleep.
In the beginning of December we spent a fortnight on a short tour, in the course of which we discovered Patti Abaja, a quaint little spot just North of Lokoja, and not more than fifteen miles from cantonments. The path winds among rather thick bush to the foot of an abruptly-rising lofty hill, thickly clothed with trees. Here we dismounted and sent the ponies round to make the ascent by a longer but easier path, and after a really stiff climb over rocks and boulders for about an hour, we arrived at the summit, breathless but triumphant, and were confronted by miles of an absolutely flat plain, partly cultivated, but covered mainly with fine short grass. It looked exactly as if some playful giant had shaved the top clean off the mountain! A further walk along the level brought us to the little hamlet of Patti Abaja, and here was still further room for wonderment, for, close beside it, the same playful giant had evidently been to work again, and had scooped out a dozen or so huge handfuls of the centre of the hill, then tired of his joke, and wandered off to seek new occupation elsewhere! There was a completely circular basin almost under our feet, the sides precipitous and rocky, covered with thick greenery; down below a carpet of farms flourished, and a few figures moving about looked like ants from our lofty perch. At a point just below the village a stream, issuing from the rock itself, tumbled and foamed away down into the valley, and meandered off among ferns, water plants and grasses, supplying delicious cold water to the community above. The air was perfectly glorious in its invigorating freshness, with the most delightful ‘nip’ at sunset and dawn. While there we had a pair of very fascinating little animals brought to us; they were, I think, what are called ‘palm-cats’ (Nandinia binotata); at that time they were very tiny, and, when full grown, only slightly larger than a ferret, extremely pretty, with soft dark grey fur, marked with black spots and rings. They were very young and helpless, and required a good deal of hand-feeding before they got lively and independent, but they travelled round with us in a covered basket quite safely, and, once settled in Lokoja, they were quite at home, perfectly tame and delightfully playful. One, alas! was killed by accident, but the other grew and flourished for some months, till one sad day, when he caught and ate a large locust, and from that time he refused food, drooped and died. I was sorely disappointed and grieved at the loss of my tiny pet, who, at a call, would come flying out from any corner, scamper up to me, run up my skirt, and sit on my shoulder, with his little wise eyes twinkling, and tiny paws upheld.
We made a shooting camp at Patti Abaja, and spent Christmas there, in company with Captain Phillips, of the Gunners, whose tastes were similar to ours, and though the sport, as far as big game was concerned, was a failure, we were all happy pottering about after guinea-fowl, etc., and thoroughly enjoyed the difference in the temperature. It was practically impossible to get near big game, although there was plenty about, for the ground was as hard as iron, and the steps of a booted foot, or of a pony, rang as though on a pavement, and must have been audible to the animals at a great distance. We wound our way down the hill a few days later, feeling that, even if our spoils had not been many, our Christmas camp had, at all events, been a pleasant ending to a pleasant year.
About the middle of January we fared forth again, with the object of, at last, accomplishing the delimitation of the Kabba-Ilorin boundary, interrupted two years before, and went up the river to Egga, where we were to meet the Resident of Ilorin, Dr. Dwyer, and from where the boundary line would start. I had some misgivings, for travelling and camping in company is not always conducive to peace and harmony; but directly we all started off my anxieties were laid to rest, and we spent a delightful three weeks together. If the roads were of the worst, the camps were of the best, all the arrangements worked smoothly, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves sitting cosily round huge wood fires in the chilly evenings, chatting and exchanging reminiscences. I made some new acquaintances in the flower world: the Mexican poppy (Argemone mexicana) made me wonder how it got there; Strophanthus was in full bloom—queer uncanny blossoms, each pinkish cream petal lengthening out into a streamer four or five inches long, resembling a flower less than some curious butterfly or sea anemone. The natives are terrified of it; beside its poisonous qualities, they believe that the juice produces instant blindness, and I could not persuade any one to break off a spray for me to sketch, and was obliged to do it myself, amidst much alarm and disapproval! In the forest was bright red Bryophyllum and another small shrub, loaded with glowing flame-coloured flowers; Dr. Dwyer discovered a specimen of Isochelis for me, and my last ‘find’ was Kigelia Africana, a large tree with truly splendid blossoms of deep crimson, hanging on pendant stems like glowing lamps set in the brilliant green foliage.
The middle of February found us back in Lokoja, with plenty of work in the office to be ‘wound up’ before we went on leave, which kept my husband busy until the High Commissioner arrived in March, desiring to inspect Kabba with a view to its becoming the headquarters of the Province. A flying visit was paid there while I packed up, the Sahib hurrying back to catch the next mail-boat, and as—to use an Indian expression—we had ‘laid a dak’ at various points on the road, he managed to cover the fifty odd miles in eight hours! My bull-terrier had just then burst a blood-vessel, and had to be destroyed, to my grief, and on March 23 we set our faces down river and towards home, with no more impedimenta than a parrot, a first-rate talker, who, by the way, distinguished himself, after a few days in the neighbourhood of the galley, by exclaiming, while I was displaying him to a friend, ‘Who the hell are you?’ After that I was allowed to keep him in my own charge!
We had a very pleasant trip, and found a special interest in the persons of two Arab merchants, who, trading between Tripoli and Kano, had had the suggestion made to them at the latter place, that, instead of the long and perilous Desert journey back, occupying seven months at least, it would be far cheaper and more convenient for them to convey themselves and their merchandise (ostrich feathers) to the Coast, and return to Tripoli by sea—a most excellent plan, and one that should, and would, be universally adopted, but for deep-rooted conservatism and distrust of new ways. As these two men consented to make the experiment, every assistance was given them by Government to reach Lagos, and Sir Alfred Jones gave them and their loads free transport to Liverpool—for they were, on this occasion, to come to London, instead of transhipping at the Canaries, so as to test the London market for their feathers. They were most highly intelligent men; one, ‘Nassuf,’ was the son of an extremely wealthy Tripoli merchant, the other was a travelling acquaintance, who, having been robbed of all his possessions in the Desert, was, with characteristic kindliness, being taken charge of and seen safely home by Nassuf. They were in quite prosperous circumstances, and had plenty of money, but found themselves sorely handicapped, once they left Africa, by speaking nothing but Arabic and Hausa. Therefore, our assistance as interpreters was requisitioned, and we visited them daily on board, enjoying many long talks about Tripoli, Kano and the Desert, so that they came to look on us as their natural protectors and friends, and, on learning that we, of course, intended leaving the ship at Plymouth, their dismay and alarm was so deep and sincere, that we decided to go round to Liverpool with them, and, at least, see them safely ashore with their valuable merchandise, valued by Nassuf at £60,000!
On arrival, we were met by Sir Alfred Jones, who, with his usual enterprise, took a keen interest in the experiment, and, at his earnest request, we consented to take charge of Nassuf and his companion while they were in England, and bore them off to the North-Western Hotel. There they naturally attracted a good deal of attention in their picturesque flowing white robes, but their manner of receiving it was perfection in its well-bred unconsciousness; indeed, their simple, quiet dignity was in marked contrast to the behaviour of the gaping crowd which followed us everywhere, and also, alas! to that of well-dressed strangers who thought them fair game for rude impertinence. Given a pot of coffee and a box of cigarettes, our ‘lambs,’ as we called them, were perfectly happy, and would sit for hours in the big hall, utterly unmoved by the novelty of the scene of continuous bustle of arrival and departure, but watching it all with their bright intelligent eyes, and asking numberless shrewd questions in low-toned rapid Hausa.