Here as in other parts of the globe one must not expect too much just because one is a journalist. The journalist may at considerable outlay go to a country for the purpose of making the work of the men there known to the larger world outside. The men may care nothing for that knowledge being propagated nor for the opinions and judgments of the larger world—in which case, if I dare say so, they are foolish and make a gigantic mistake—or they may live in a little world of their own which takes count of little beyond. Their all-in-all is bound up in the place where their lives are spent, and nothing else matters. A visitor from abroad may be more an object of curiosity than of interest. In the course of pilgrimages through lands as Special Correspondent for the _African World_ I have met some peculiar characters but never, I think, more—or as peculiar—as in Northern Nigeria. Certainly they are the exceptions. I make no complaint personally. These reflections are simply put down as observations on the workings of minds so unusual that they must be noted. There are frequent speculations as to what is at the back of the black man’s mind. I have occasionally wondered what moulds ideas in some white men’s minds in Northern Nigeria. What has been stated can be read in connection with my own situation. That situation was this. I had settled to leave Naraguta on November 4 for the southward trek to Jemma. Everything had been arranged to the utmost detail. It was to be the last chapter, though not the last stage, of this portion of the journey and, bearing in thought former delays, I was firmly determined nothing should detain me a day. So much for human calculations. The start was to be on a Monday. On the previous Friday morning I found myself without house-boys. Two of the three had gone for causes which need not be intruded here, and Oje was manfully going through the daily task single-handed pending the arrival of assistance. Friday morning Oje announced his wish to leave “for 10 days.” It was not the labour he had to do which prompted the step; in fact, he had asked to continue alone. The story he gave—I am convinced the true one—was that a man who owed him £4, 16s. was at Zaria—at least 3 days’ journey for him, though he used the railway—and he desired to go and claim the money. No persuasion or sternness could induce him to stay. I offered to give him the £4, 16s. He was worth that and more. No use. Go he would. He knew the serious trouble he would give me and said he was sorry, but nothing could alter his attitude. It was one of those strange aberrations of the native from down country which defy reading by the white man, however experienced; for between the lad and myself there was a strong attachment. Evidence of it had occurred unmistakably a few days earlier.