We wound in and out, out and in, through the moonlit streets with their black shadows, their mud walls, and conical, thatch-roofed houses. Then we emerged into the market-place, near which our employer resided. Entering her compound, we put down our loads, and, seating ourselves, awaited our wages. Mama and I were the first to be paid. We were handed one string apiece of cowrie shells--equivalent to one shilling each, at that time and place. We haggled over this like true-born carriers for fully half an hour, and, as the fat lady’s head slave refused to budge, accepted what we got with a blessing--and promptly received another five hundred cowries for our good nature. The Haussa will often do this, for, as much as he fears a curse, by so much does he value a blessing. A great many rogues take advantage of this trait in the native character. Having been paid off, Mama and I left the compound rejoicing. Here we were, in the very heart of Kontogora--scatheless! We wandered into the market-place, where some people were still loitering, and decided to sleep in one of the stalls and begin our investigations in the morning. It was many hours before I got to sleep, as my feet ached fearfully and were badly torn and blistered. During the march I had alternately gone barefoot and in sandals to rest them, and at times I got badly knocked about when carrying the leathers in my hand. Several times during the night bands of young Haussas passed through the market-place, shouting and laughing, boasting what they were going to do to the Turawa (white man). Four batches of labourers passed through also, between the time we retired and dawn, dragging dead horses out of the town. Tom-toms were going all the night; at times the whole air quivered with the rhythmical sounds. The quaint tinkling of the Haussa guitar rose and fell at intervals, and from time to time the weird notes of the “ghoghie,” or native fiddle, could be heard from the compounds. A spirit of excitement and revel seemed to pervade the whole town. Next morning we loitered about until the market began to fill, when we bought some food. We then repaired to the Galadima’s residence, and enlisted in the army of labourers that were employed in repairing the walls of the town. Many of these labourers were slaves, sent by the various chiefs and big men; others belonged to the Emir himself. About four hundred of us were dispatched to the north wall. Here some made bricks out of the soft clay; others, including myself, stood on the wall and laid them, and yet others passed those already dried up to us on the wall.