Entering the Niger Company’s store to obtain the articles required, Mr Byrd, the Kano Agent—Manager he would be called in England—enquired if I was who I happened to be, and on my admitting the fact he said that the District Agent at Zaria, Mr Wilks (whom I saw there, but who I did not know intended taking the step), had wired him of my coming up, but that the telegram had only just been delivered, though handed in 24 hours earlier 90 miles away. It was subsequently ascertained that the native post office messenger had received the telegram for delivery in due time but had put it in his robe pocket and taken it home, judging that next day, on the way to his duties, would do just as well for the addressee. Mr Byrd, learning where I was living, offered the use of an unoccupied house in his compound. It was like the railway hut, made of mud and straw but had the great advantage of a cement, instead of an earth, floor. Although consisting of a single room, it was quite a mansion in its way. The change of quarters was speedily made and I at once settled down to write. “You always speak well of the Niger Company,” was the remark made by a man I met in the train. Certainly, I do. I have the best of reasons for doing so, for while journeying in these parts I have invariably received the utmost courtesy and aid from all members of the staff. This is evidently done on principle, for the few shillings spent at the stores must be of the smallest consequence. Nor can the attention be given me just because I happen to be Special Correspondent for a London journal. I have heard of similar help being rendered to other travellers who have passed over ground where the Niger Company are established. I have heard of it at Bassa, in the south of the Protectorate; I have heard of it at Yola, in the east; and I gladly testify to a large measure of appreciation in the north. The superiority of my new residence over my former habitation was soon manifest. Whereas the white ants in my first resting-place were to be numbered in hundreds of thousands—at a modest computation—in the second they were a mere matter of hundreds, and with a hard floor the rendezvous they formed there could be swept clear periodically, which is not practicable where the floor of a hut is soft ground and the ants come upwards. In the new residence they descended from the walls and from above only. From the latter direction they dropped into the hot meals but seemed to make no difference to the flavour of the food. The best way was to look away from the table; then one could not be positive that ants accompanied the food in its transfer from platter to palate. Still, the house is really comfortable. A mud wall encloses a verandah, level with the ground, round the house. The roof, of dried grass, is double. Between the lower and the upper ones a clear space provides excellent ventilation without interfering with the rainproof qualities. CHAPTER VII FASHIONS, GOVERNMENT, ADMINISTRATION