A historic figure is Abigah, King of Lokoja, with whose son I had the illuminating conversation on domestic felicity detailed in Chapter XIV. Mr Byfield kindly sent for the old man to meet me in the market. I had, of course, known that the King had been brought by Dr Barth to Europe and that he had visited England and seen Woolwich Arsenal. He told me that Dr Barth also took him to Berlin, and introduced him to the Emperor William I. (then simply King of Prussia), who, noticing Abigah’s strong and healthy appearance, tapped him on the chest and declared he was “a piece of black mahogany.” Although more than 50 years have passed, Abigah is still as active in walking as a young fellow. He speaks English quite well, not in the pidgeon manner. I omitted to ask what the King’s means are. As he must be over 70 years of age and has been useful to England since Barth visited Lokoja, I hope the Government of Nigeria will take care that the old man’s latter days are not embittered by poverty. This remark is made as I had heard up-country he was badly off. I am sorry the matter slipped my memory when speaking to Mr Byfield. In maintaining our rule in Northern Nigeria we depend so much on the cordial co-operation of the native, natural leaders of the people that it would be a great pity to jeopardise our good name for fair-dealing towards those whose supreme functions we have taken over by failing to be not only strictly just but somewhat generous in a case where that would be no more than discharging an obligation of honour, for Abigah has always been a staunch friend of the British. At the other end of the town is the hospital, which fills an exceptional place in a mental survey of Nigeria. There are two routes from the Coast to the interior. One is by the railway from Lagos, the other the river route from Forcados. Along the former line, besides the large hospital at Lagos, there is a similar establishment at Zungeru, as well as a smaller one at Ibadan, and, all being on the railway, a patient living near the line is within easy reach of any of them. On the river route, and then beyond it from Baro right up inland, there is no hospital approaching to that of Lokoja in size, technical resources, and with the unspeakable blessing of feminine nursing. Do not, however, expect an institution the dimensions of those in English cities. The term Lokoja Hospital really means two hospitals—for Europeans and for natives. The first is of wood, bungalow shape, raised from the ground and resting on iron pillars with stone foundations. There is accommodation for 10 beds in wards made mosquito-proof, as is also the nurses’ sitting-room.