I am sure I would not have been happier in the dry house eating a welcome second breakfast, for the heavier the rain beat on them the merrier the carriers became, shouting and singing. In spite of the discomfort they would not be downhearted. At each gust of wind, enough to shiver them, they shouted the louder. Amadu’s musical pipe was brought into vigorous use, and when from sheer lack of breath it slackened for his lungs to be replenished, the men broke into a chorus, the notable part of which seemed to me to be a series of hurrahs. It made one’s heart glad to be with a party determined not to be cast down by trying circumstances. Somehow, although it is known not to generally last long, tropical rain in the day-time is usually distinctly depressing. I suppose the feeling is induced by the sudden fall in temperature. Little more than half-an-hour and the rain had ceased; the sun shone, and soon we were all dry again. Meantime, there was evidence we had entered the tin country, not merely where it was being prospected, but where it was in being. A board announced “Nigeria Tin Corporation,” and as we went along men, singly and in twos and threes, were met carrying shovels. Further certainty we were nearing the goal was a piece of wood on low posts notifying “Juga, 5½ miles.” That was probably fixed before distances were understood and when a few miles understated made no difference to anybody. Passing the board we entered the nearest resemblance to African forest hitherto touched. Trees were more thickly clustered and bordered closer to the path, which led to the long narrow valley of South Juga, the Juga Hills towering to the left. From a rise in the ground, we saw below a village and small market. Hanza halted his command, took from his head the pail he had used inverted to keep off the rain, and replaced his turban and a long robe. Telling the men to maintain even distance between each other, and, seeing that I was close behind him, he gave the word to go forward and we did, with quite an appearance of dignity. It was pleasant to see this esprit-de-corps and pride in a leader, and responded to by men who might be supposed to belong to the casual labourer class. As though we were a regiment of regulars, we went through the village, and in less than half-a-mile more swung round the path into the compound of houses which are the administrative headquarters of the Juga properties. In the middle and at the sides were flower beds of zinnias, red, pink, yellow, and white, and another bed of large sunflowers. The fair face of an English girl would have made one fancy oneself at home again. [Illustration: CARRIERS READY TO START. (See page 153.)] [Illustration: A BRIDGE WHICH IS SWEPT AWAY BY THE STREAM DURING THE WET SEASON AND REGULARLY REPLACED.] CHAPTER XX JUGA TO NARAGUTA