I thought I knew what was meant by poverty before I went to the Sahara (for my life had not been an easy one), but the Great Desert and its people taught me otherwise. Wherefore, when the sudden transition came and I left behind that land of primitive people and ancient customs to regain the heart of civilisation, it was an experience that keyed up the senses to acute receptiveness and tremendous appreciation. Everything was a luxury; everything accepted with thankfulness, and one quarter of the most humble of the comforts that came my way would have filled me with equal content. So may it be when the mind of man has learned humbleness from a background of desert that holds _nothing_. But, if the sudden change of environment was full of incident in my case, it can be readily conceived that Ali’s and Sakari’s first view of civilisation was even more exciting, and filled them with astonishment and wonder. The lifelong background, to them, was primitive Africa. Previous to joining the caravan they had both lived for many years in Kano, the great Hausa trade centre of Northern Nigeria, and one of the most remarkable native cities in the world. An environment of humble, low, mud-walled huts and narrow sandy lanes had always been theirs, and heat and flies and a dense population, with meagre sufficiency of food, their intimate atmosphere. To them luxury was unknown, and, not knowing it, they were happy. Indeed, Kano is a town of laughter, and its people healthy and content amid a humbleness and simplicity that is as yet unspoiled, and natural to them. [Illustration: GOOD-BYE TO AFRICA] The language familiar to Ali and Sakari is Hausa; though Arabic is the native tongue of the former. However, for the purpose in view, Hausa will not serve, and therefore, in endeavouring to give some of their impressions of this country as closely as possible, I will, in the main, have recourse to their _Pidgin English_. To give some idea of this curious and amusing African patois, I will, before proceeding to the main subject, cite some expressions that were familiar during the late expedition: “Wait small,” i.e. Wait a little. “He live small,” i.e. The meal is not quite ready. “Time no reach,” i.e. It is not yet the time appointed. “Excuse me small,” i.e. Please give room to let me pass. “He no live,” i.e. When someone cannot be found when wanted. “This day I be _black_ all over,” i.e. In a bad temper. (No reference to colour.) “Them French be palava people,” i.e. Talkative people. “Jeasers,” i.e. Scissors. Sakari, when asked if he has cleaned my gun: “I done dust him, sir!” Sakari, telling he has looked for a lost knife: “Them knife: I find him all, I no look him.” Sakari, when asked if he has found a lost button: “You make I find him for them place this morning; I find him, I no see him.” Sakari, having brought a local native to me who can mend a broken frying-pan: “Look this man! Him say he fit go make them fry pan well.”