Sakari, describing that two men are brothers: “The mother what born him be mother for that man, too. Them all belong one mother.” Sakari, referring to one of the camel-men who is exhausted: “All him strong gone.” Sakari, referring to the state of my wardrobe when everything is in rags: “All them clothes broke.” Sakari, when asked if he has properly killed a lizard before skinning it, chuckled and replied: “No, sir! Him hard for die.” “Where is the butter, Sakari?” “He go die,” i.e. It is finished. Native, asking for a shilling with the head of Queen Victoria on it: “I want them money with woman that live for inside.” Native, having difficulty to cook in a high wind: “This breeze no fit let them fire stand up.” Native, detecting that something is burning: “Some cloth go burn? I hear him smell.” All through the expedition the natives had to crush their own grain into meal—always the woman’s task at home. One day I said to Sakari: “Now you savvy how to beat them meal plenty fine you will be able to save your wife much work.” He replied: “Oh no, sir! When I go catch Kano again I lose him sense plenty quick. I no be fool go tell my wife that.” With two unsophisticated worthies like Ali and Sakari, fresh from the wilderness, I had to be prepared for anything when we landed in England. To say that they were excited and astonished would be putting it mildly indeed. They were amazed. In Hausa, when addressing me, or in _pidgin English_, when speaking to others, they expressed bewilderment of all they saw, and were as delighted as children on an eventful holiday. Everything was novel to them. Everything required explanation. On the way up to town we had the first inkling of amusing incidents in store. The event was unexpected. The train suddenly rushed into a tunnel and simultaneously my natives, who surely thought the end had come, were stricken dumb with fear. When the train regained the daylight Sakari was sitting drawn up in a corner with big, frightened eyes, and he gasped: “O master! I think this train no go take the right road.” On reaching London, quarters were found for Ali and Sakari in Gower Street. They were disappointed and almost alarmed when they learned that they could no longer _camp_ beside me, and uneasy at the thought of being separated. Ali’s greatest concern was that he could no longer follow my footprints: “This no be _Tenere_ [desert], Master! If you are lost, how I be fit go see your foot on these rocks?” (paved streets). However, I assured them I would come and see them each day, and with that they had to be content. During the forenoon of the next day I saw them again. Both complained of stiff necks. “What’s the matter?” I queried. They grinned broadly, and replied: