I have a wholesome fear of tiring readers with overmuch detail of travel and therefore pass over with a few words the several days’ trek to Jemma, with one march of 25 miles in a severely hot temperature, mostly on foot, lasting from morning to evening, with not so much as a drink of water or a biscuit to eat, and entailing a descent of more than 2,200 feet from the Bauchi Plateau to Nassarawa Province. I take up the story where my little caravan, emerging from a long lane through high grass, dipped into a plain backed by high hills.
A pleasant little episode marked the entry to the plain. Passing a circular mud house a white man came out of it and seeing me in doubt as to the direction to be taken spontaneously asked, “Can I be of assistance to you?” and then probably noticing the betravelled condition I presented, offered refreshment. As the day’s journey was practically ended the invitation was declined, but it was a kindly spirit that prompted it, a spirit general among the best type of Northern Nigeria Government Officers. The individual in this case was Captain F. P. Soper, Assistant Commissioner of Police in charge of the Jemma district.
My stay at Jemma was not long enough to go to the head-hunters’ village four miles across the valley, though I should have greatly liked to have made their acquaintance. There was, however, a great deal of ground still to be covered, so after two clear days at Jemma, the return journey was commenced. (The various Pagan tribes visited in the course of the several treks are dealt with together in Chapters XXIX to XXXII, instead of referring to them here and there, piecemeal.)
Though for several reasons I should have preferred to have gone by the old caravan route westward to Loko and thence along the Benue River, or by the lower road northwards, considerations led to the decision to go back on the line by which I had come.
That, of course, entailed ascending the escarpment, some 2,200 feet. Plans were arranged accordingly. It was done on the second day’s trek, and instead of a march of 25 miles, as when I came down it, one of 18 was fixed. The weather was very hot, which was also taken into consideration. The decision was made to leave Karshi rest-house at 4 a.m., and though the sun does not rise until a little past 5 o’clock, a broad pathway clearly showed the way to the carriers.
Getting up at 3 o’clock, by 4 o’clock breakfast had been finished, the table, chairs and the beds made into their usual loads, and we were off a few minutes earlier than the appointed time.
The idea governing the programme was to reach the mountain path to the Plateau at daybreak and then cover it in the cool hours of the morning, instead of doing so under a fierce glare, the heat intensified by reflection from the high rocks that seemed on touch to be burning, which was the experience on the outward journey.
The ascent to the Plateau proved much less trying than the descent had been. True, in the latter case the hardest part was done under the most severe heat of the day and an extra seven miles had been put on the span, whilst on the return tramp the worst section was left behind before the sun had put forth full power, and cold tea, kept so in a special flask, gave relief to a parched throat and produced a general refreshed feeling. Still, not until 12.30 was the rest-house at Hos reached and the loads put down for another day.
Temperature on the Plateau was in marked contrast to that felt in the lower ground of Nassarawa Province. On the higher altitude cool air and strong breezes temper the beat rays. Instead of being charged with moisture, the atmosphere is dry, rarefied.
At one part of the march I was walking, to ease the horse and for a change of movement to myself, when an incident occurred which might have produced an unpleasant result to each side in the quarrel.