But carriers, donkeys, and bullock wagons, they all seem so primitive, the method so ancient. It recalls the Biblical period. One thinks of mechanical transport; if not the railway, which, with a single train at its slowest, would whirl along in half-a-day the load which thousands of carriers need six times as long to transport, then of motor lorries, a couple capable of doing in a day work that requires 150 men with head-loads three days. Such lorries are due up a fortnight hence and will be the first distinct step in utilising the latest product of mechanical science to supersede the old, human manner. A pleasant companion for several miles was Mr Speed, a grey-bearded veteran who had come to Northern Nigeria to judge its value for ranching. He has seen much of the world. Born in Australia, and a few years ago associated with mines in Rhodesia, he knows the whole gamut of colonial life. He is as enthusiastic over this country as man can possibly be. He considers it admirable for cattle-raising and for wheat production. Any question of hazards to health he waves aside. He thinks there is no reason why Englishmen should not settle permanently on the land, as they have done elsewhere. He argues that, by reasonable precautions, danger from the sun’s rays can be avoided. He says they are bad, if not so strong, in Rhodesia and that there white women and children live and thrive, though a few years ago it was declared to be fever-ridden and impossible to any but the hard, inured campaigner. Why, he asks, should not the present health conditions in the Chartered Company’s territory be brought about in Northern Nigeria? He affirms that, as far as he can tell from intense observation, no cause exists to deter that consummation. Mr Speed is one of those exceptional cases where an individual ignores some of the prime safeguards of two kinds against fever. In spite of the fact that he is much older than is regarded as safe for men to spend more than a fleeting visit to West Africa, he tells me that he never has a net to protect him from mosquitoes at night, as such an adjunct on his bed would prevent him sleeping by impeding free passage of air; and also that he does not use a filter, merely taking care that drinking water is simply boiled. That line of conduct with many men would be tantamount to signing their death warrant. CHAPTER XXVIII CLOSE OF THE TREK Character of carriers—The only blow given—Native grooms’ monetary transactions—Material for a _cause célèbre_—Dispensing justice on the road—Headman Dan Sokoto—Dan’s sharp practices—A long march.