It was while I was engaged in this fascinating occupation that Mr. Annan himself made his appearance. He seated himself with native grace upon the gin-cases by my side and genially entered into conversation respecting the merits of the produce he had sold us, which he declared to be quite exceptional. “Look dat rubber now,” he exclaimed, as Olympio slapped a parcel of it on to the scales, “good sound rubber dat is; no grit, no dirt, no water, rubber all de way trou! Take my word, Mr. Englefield, s’pose you want good rubber, you buy him from de native merchant, not from bush people.” “Why is that?” I asked. “Because,” he answered, “black man sabby black man fashion. S’pose dem bush people bring me black rubber all grit and stones, I tell um ‘dis no good for me. Take um for de white man factory, _he_ fit to buy um.’ Huh! huh!” He guffawed with great enjoyment and continued. “Look dem monkey skins; where you fit to buy skins like dat from de bush people?” There was not a little truth in this, for the skins in the particular parcel that he had sold us were in excellent condition, whereas the few purchased from the “bush” natives at Quittáh were riddled with slug holes and half bald besides. “Where do you get your monkey skins?” I inquired. “I buy um mostly from de hunters in de far bush,” he replied; adding, with great discretion, “de business of de native merchant is to sabby where to get what he want. No one fit to get good monkey skins widout he sabby de hunters which catch de monkey, and dem hunters live for far bush. Dey never come dis country.” At this moment there appeared round the corner of the shed in which we were sitting a figure so remarkable that my attention was instantly diverted alike from Annan’s conversation and the produce on the scales. The newcomer was evidently a Fulah, for he was dressed in the picturesque costume worn by the Fulahs and Hausas; and that he was not of the latter nationality his fair complexion made manifest. His clothing was sombre in colour--unlike that of the negroes--and consisted of a blue-grey surplice-like “riga” with wide bell sleeves, richly embroidered with narrow braid-like stitching; wide drawers or “wondo” of similar material embroidered with green; slippers of yellow leather ornamented with a tooled pattern, and a turban of dark indigo blue, the coils of which were continued downwards to form a face-cloth or “litham,” which completely concealed the face, leaving only a narrow space through which a strip of fair skin and a pair of piercing dark eyes were visible. As a finish to this costume, he carried a handsome brass-hilted sword slung from his shoulder by a thick tasselled cord of scarlet worsted. Approaching with the dignified carriage of his race he bowed gravely to me and Annan, murmuring a comprehensive “sanu,” and held out his hand to my companion, who shook it as though it had been a refractory pump-handle.