The Egugu man enters the town, or village, wrapped in a piece of country cloth, which entirely covers the face and head, and which covering he never removes except when alone with his immediate associates; while curious persons of either sex are restrained from pulling it aside, or endeavouring to obtain a glimpse of his face, by the belief that to look upon his countenance is certain death. He then traverses the village and enters every house in succession; while the female occupants, anxious to propitiate their judge, lay before him the most _recherché_ dishes of savage African cookery, viz., the palm oil stew, the cassava cakes and the “stink-fish,” while to wash down this regal banquet jars of palm wine and bottles of rum are provided. The Egugu man is cunning enough to know that the innocent, if any, will seem most unconcerned, and he consequently regards with suspicion those women who appear most anxious to please him, and usually picks out those who have treated him most hospitably, and with the greatest respect, for exposure and punishment. He is commonly very successful in his choice: it would be difficult in any case to pick out a guiltless woman, and, even in the remote chance of his doing so, the woman’s protestations would not be believed; while those who have forgotten the fidelity due to their liege lords, imagining that everything is known and about to be proclaimed, confess at once, so that they can give their own version of the story. The Egugu man then administers a few stripes to the culprits himself, and leaves them to the tender mercies of their spouses and the jeers and sarcasms of those more fortunate females who have gone through the ordeal in safety.