Nearer to the town the cactus sides compress to almost touch your elbows as you sit in the saddle; and, making it still more difficult for hostile horsemen who had managed to get so far to either go on quickly or to retreat, the pathway slopes into trench-form, sufficiently deep to reach to a horse’s knees and with so little width that the animal cannot stand with the forelegs side-by-side and therefore must keep moving. An enemy forced to fight in such quarters would be helpless. No wonder those Pagans of the Plateau maintained their towns inviolate against the raiding Moslem tribes. Having passed through the cactus maze we are entering the town. The first house differs from the others further on, not only in size, but in use. It is about 15 feet in diameter and is the only place of business in the town. It belongs to the blacksmith. The spade-hoe, spear points, broad swords and knives, the jointed bar which is placed on the nose and under the chin of a horse, a small bell that hangs from the pony’s neck, these are the manufactures. All are of iron. The metal is obtained by smelting ironstone, but customers must bring their own charcoal, so scarce is fuel. Payment is by accha, the native grain. Everything else each Pagan produces for himself, though there are exchanges, such as a man who has aptitude for making musical instruments swopping one to a neighbour good at, say, shaping pipes. Musical appurtenances range from a harp, 20 inches by 8 inches, made entirely of reeds, and drums, to wind instruments of a score variety: flutes, piccoloes and an article resembling an orange which is hollowed, hardened and three holes bored on top thus: [Illustration]. The bottom one is whistled through, fingers placed on the smaller holes regulating the sound. Every village has its band and no orchestra is without a drum. Tunes are beyond the comprehension of white men, but undoubtedly the Pagan learns on some distinct principle. Usually the music is of a low, sing-song tune. A common practice is for the performers to form a circle and walk behind one another whilst playing, which increases the monotony of the music. I have, however, heard spirited, enlivening airs, as at Fedderi, where the Chief, or King, of the Jarawa tribe performed a skirt dance in honour of my visit. Gathered round was “a large and appreciative audience” of his own folks. The old Chief’s everyday dress does not err in the direction of excess, but, to constitute himself a royal male Pavlova, he donned a Hausa robe, which was kept at his hut exclusively for the purpose. The musical accompaniment was “by special request” rendered by the Court band, who wore their State uniform. What that was can be seen from the photograph facing this page. The dance proved really entertaining, and, like the music, developed on settled lines; it was not a mere inconsequent throwing about of the limbs.