It is still broad, afternoon daylight as we pass Gana-Gana, 35 miles from Forcados, and therefore only 30 miles from Burutu, which is regarded as practically the same; so we may still reach the latter to-day. Gana-Gana is the first trading station of the Niger Company from the headquarters at Burutu. The river is a-quarter-of-a-mile across. In mid-stream is a small island on which the station has been made. The manager’s house is a medium-size stern-wheeler hauled up on the island, The lower part of the boat is used as a store for bought produce; the upper part remains little altered from when the barque was afloat, the saloon merely modified to the conveniences of living on land. A screw steamer has also been drawn up, roofed with corrugated iron and is used as living quarters for the black staff. No one else remains on the islet during the night. In addition there are three corrugated iron sheds for stores and another for trading goods. Produce is brought by natives in canoes from both banks of the river. This placing of a trading station on an island was of considerable advantage in the old days when a general attack on a European store, firing the building and murdering the occupants was a periodical entertainment of inhabitants up the rivers. The station being surrounded by water which had to be crossed gave the defenders a chance, with the use of rifles, to beat off an assault. All the trading stations are kept busy from morning to night, so there is little likelihood of anybody in one experiencing monotony; but in former days there was the additional exhilaration of always having in mind the probable need of a sudden run for firearms to keep at bay a howling mob of savages bent on killing and plunder. By comparison, things are quite tame nowadays. Although the river, broad as it is, gives practically nothing to spare in depth, we spin along in the effort to reach Burutu to-night, but the channel occasionally becomes so shallow that, unless we are to be run aground after all, the engines have to be slowed; for, whilst it is urgent to reach Burutu without stop, as a mail liner leaves Forcados to-morrow morning for England and we have light cargo for her, if we go on a sandbank the whole scheme must be upset and a week’s delay ensue. That means, instead of the goods being directly transhipped, the labour and extra expense of warehousing and handling them three times instead of once. Therefore, notwithstanding the brief twilight is passing and darkness coming on, the engines continue their regular sharp pulsation and the stern-wheels strike the water with their pat-pat-pat sound, and no halt is made as the night settles around, though we are still some 20 miles from Burutu. Fortunately, the moon is clear. Nasaru looks unflinchingly ahead. He has been doing so for 12 hours, yet he shows no sign of weariness and appears as visually alert as he was at the start.