At length the Fulah, having concluded his business palaver, slid down from the gin cases, bringing his feet most adroitly into his slippers as he descended, and with another comprehensive salaam, departed, leaving his host silent and thoughtful. The subject of Annan’s cogitations being evidently monkey skins, I led the suspended conversation back to this absorbing topic. “How do you manage to communicate with the hunters,” I asked, “if they live for far bush and never come here?” Annan gave me a quick glance full of suspicion and cunning, and then replied suavely-- “Sometimes I send my clerk with some of my boys for far bush to buy de skins, sometimes I go myself. Perhaps I go dis year when de small rains finish.” “Do you have to make a long journey?” I inquired. “Oh, long, long way. T’rou ’Shanti bush past Kumási to a country called Tánosu.” “Tánosu!” I exclaimed, with suddenly increasing interest. “Yaas, Tánosu,” he replied. “Bad country dat, bad people, but plenty black monkey live in de bush.” “Why is it a bad country?” I asked. Annan spat on the ground in the expressive African fashion and replied, “Tánosu people no good. Too much f’tish palaver. Dem f’tish people dey wait in de bush, and when stranger men come along dey catch um. Den dey make f’tish custom”--here Annan drew his forefinger quickly across his throat and snapped his finger and thumb in the air--a pantomime that needed no explanation. “I have often thought,” I said musingly, “that I should very much like to see the far bush. It is very different from the coast, isn’t it?” “De far bush,” replied Annan emphatically, “is not fit place for white man. De chop bad--bush chop only fit for bush man--de houses bad, de roads bad, de people bad--too much war palaver. No good for white man.” “Of course,” I rejoined, “if one went into the bush, one would expect to rough it a little and take some risk. Still, I must say, I should like to see what the interior of Africa is like.” “P’raps you like to come with me and look for monkey skins, Mr. Englefield,” suggested Annan grinning. “Why, that’s not such a bad idea,” said I. “How should you like to have me with your party?” “You tink you fit to come for true?” asked Annan, now all on the alert and evidently reckoning up what he could make out of me if I came. “’Spose you come, I get you hammock boys, I get you carriers, I speak country talk for you. I do you proper.” It was clear that Annan intended to make most of the expenses of the journey out of me, and was correspondingly keen on my society. “Well,” I said, “I won’t make up my mind now. Perhaps I shan’t be free to go this season, but you might let me know what it would cost me to make the trip, and then if I find I can do it, we can arrange whatever is necessary.”