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we in Northern Nigeria lag behind the times?

The foot men march very steadily, and their alignment is wellnigh perfect. One does not gild the lily, nor does one compliment Gunners upon the quality of their work,—çela va sans dire the Empire over. But the spectacle of the review is provided by the Mounted Infantry. They march, they trot, and they end up with a gallop past. The gallop is wonderful-horses tearing along, lance points glittering, turbans streaming, the thunder of hoofs, the men riding knee to knee, packed close as sardines, and the line straight. A couple of troopers are unhorsed, their mounts going down in the scurry. Plucky fellows these two troopers: they are up again and away almost before noticed. If you want to appreciate what this means, try a toss yourself, going full gallop, with a carbine and a lance and a turban with a streamer to look after!

tion there. The bands play
"God save the King," we all
stand and remove our hats, the
guns begin to fire the salute,
the infantry get off a feu de joie
in capital style, and we all feel
very loyal and quivery, and
something lumpy as to the
throat and a little misty as to
the eyes.
It's all gone in an
instant, the emotion part-its
very intensity ensures that, Infantry.
and we all stand very steadily
till the firing is done. Some
ladies in the front are fidgety,
and they wobble their hats and
want to chatter. The sun is
shining now, not enough to be
oppressive, but sufficient to
sparkle on the bayonets and
sword blades. The firing
ceases, up go fezzes on to
bayonet points, and there is a
great roar, then another, and
still another. The troops are
cheering the King. God bless
him! For an instant we are
quivery again, and lumpy-
throated and misty-eyed. Then
the bands crash out, and orders,
hoarsely shouted, come faintly
across the ground. The line of
soldiers suddenly breaks, and a
boiling, seething mass takes its
place. Therefrom emerge al-
most instantly the Gunners-
guns gone to bits again, back
upon the men's heads-march-
ing on to the saluting base.
The bands move across to their
new position, playing the while;
the infantry are in column of
companies, and the mounted
people in line behind. The
march past is excellent. The
infantry go by to the march
from "The Chocolate Soldier"!

After that, who shall say that

That ends the soldiers' part in the show. They re-form in two lines at right angles to the stand, facing each other, at a couple of hundred yards apart. His Excellency moves over to the stand and takes his seat, having spent an hour and more on a very troublesome horse. Your country-bred goes mad when asked to stand still in the immediate neighbourhood of thousands of other horses, all on the move, with

bands crashing and guns firing and men cheer

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There is a stir amongst the mass of horsemen on the far side of the course: thousands of horses are moving, champing at their bits, straining to be off, neighing in a great chorus. The sun, still mercifully weak, is yet strong enough to brighten the shifting, seething mass of colour presented by the brightly caparisoned throng reds and blues and greens and masses of dazzling white. Presently Presently a cloud detaches itself from the mass, and, stringing out into line, comes tearing down the avenue of soldiery, gathers way momentarily, and comes to a halt a few yards in front of his Excellency. Riders wrench their mounts back on to their haunches, and the animals, heads up, foam flecking their chests, wild-eyed, slither and slide, cutting deep into the turf. The men, tugging at their mounts with the left hand, shoot the right above their heads, and a shout of "Zaki!" (lion) goes up, mingling with the clatter and creak and jingle of accoutrements. For a few instants the line remains, panting, fronting the Governor, then, as one man, wheels to the right, and canters off in file, all jingle and glitter and flashing colour. No sooner is one line clear than another

disengages from the host en face and comes charging down. The three Politicals are moving about amidst the crowd, advising, ordering, checking, arranging, and the "Jafi," as this ceremony of charging and saluting is called, runs without a hitch or pause. So, for a couple of hours, like wave following wave on to a strand, come the lines of horsemen. Men of Kano, followers of the Emir of Katsina, gallant in red and white robes; Zaria men in Cossack-like caps of black goat - skin; Bornu riders with white shields and curious Crusader helmets,— helmets surmounted each by a tiny tinkling bell. There are Filanis from Muri and from Yola too. Warriors all these

well mounted, the aristocracy of the many races that go to make up the people of the Protectorate. After the

warrior, the man of trade. And now we see, lolloping gently up the ground, the portly, panting envoys of Illorin and Bida, Yorubas and Nupes, excellent worthy fellows all, moneyed men, fathers of the coming race of trousered negro lawyers, but they don't sit a horse well, these trader men, not as do the Kano and Muri and Yola and Bornu people.

Last of all comes a very wondrous sight indeed. You are to imagine, if you please, a swarm of bees, with the bees represented by men: smallish, black men, very scantily clothed, armed all of them, some with spears, others with knives, or clubs, or swords, or

axes; others again with nothing more deadly than a drum, or a horn, or with an abomination known locally as an Algeta, which last is a sort of bugle with five notes' compass, and 8 very horrible

noise-maker indeed. In number some three hundred, the men are pressing closely round an individual got up like the Jack-in-the-Green that one used to see in rural England. The swarm has a double motion, revolving about the central figure, and at the same time drifting at a sort of jogtrot down the avenue made by the troops. Those who have drums beat them, the horn men blow as only pagans can, and the efforts of the Algeta experts result in a screeching that dominates the whole row. The spearmen and the bowmen and the knife and sword and chopper wallahs add as best they can to the din, vocally. Arrived in the presence, the swarm breaks, and the swarmers engage in a dance, abating in no wise their musical (!) activities, and there is a halt in the morning's proceedings what time the Political responsible for these pagans walks amongst them, trying to reduce them to some sort of order and consciousness. The men are stark mad for the time, and there is a pause of some minutes ere they are persuaded to take their departure. His Excellency is an old hand in Northern Nigeria, and knows the pagan, none better, so receives them in a fashion that delights their

primitive souls, and sends them off perfectly, not to say frantically, happy.

Had the Administration in Northern Nigeria achieved nothing else in the ten years of its existence, that existence would be more than justified by the presence of these pagans at the Durbar. It is the Administration which has stopped the Muslim from raiding the naked pagan, from slaying him, burning his home, enslaving his women and young things. It is the Administration which has said to the pagan, "Come down from the hill-tops, make yourselves good houses and big farms in the fertile plain lands, and possess in peace and without fear the things that are yours." It is the Administration which has said to pagan and to Musulmi, "You are brothers, the country is yours, let no man wrong another, let all help each. So progress, and prosper, all of you!"

The concluding incident is the reception, by the Governor, of the Emirs, and those Envoys sent by Emirs of distant Provinces: some of these Envoys have had to journey for twentyfive days coming to Zaria! Each is presented in turn, beginning with the Emir of Zaria. The function is quite short, - His Excellency addresses a few words to each, and, when all have made their bows, he delivers a short address, in Hausa. Those of us who heard it recognised a model of what such allocutions should be. Short, pointed, unexceptionable in form

as in matter, and informed throughout with sympathy for and understanding of the native point of view. It impressed greatly all who heard it.

And this ends the Durbar. The grim walls of the native city brooding on an eminence four miles away across the plain must have looked down upon many strange happenings during their seven or eight centuries of existence, one wonders what they think of our Durbar. Stir and movement amongst the troops, the Governor mounts for his return to Government House, the bands play "God save the King" once more, and we are all ready for lunch. Brightly shines the sun, once again "King's Weather" has smiled

upon citizens of the Empire gathered to do honour to the King-Emperor. On the very edge of the Empire, as we are in Northern Nigeria, even we are not forgotten of those at home. Over the wires come a knighthood and a C.M.G., this bright June morning, evidencing approval of good work well done in one of earth's far places. An official dinner at Government House, and a wondrous display of fireworks, managed by those indefatigable, indispensable, cheery and always adequate Gunners, close the day.

Northern Nigeria, the Cinderella amongst the daughters of the Empire, with heart and voice has rendered her "God save the King.'

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NICHOLAS

MR WILLIAM EDWARDES, Cape Merchant, writing to his Honourable and Right Worshipful Masters of the East India Company on the 24th March 1615, made a critical observation on the style of his "General," Captain Nicholas Downton. He said that Downton was master of a "plenteous formality of words." The phrase is a happy one, and the criticism just. It was not intended by Mr Edwardes to be taken as praise. When he wrote to the Company from "Adgmere" he was, in fact, smarting from the application of this same "plenteous formality" to his own walk and conversation. Downton had written what was plainly enough a long and verbose epistle of rebuke to and about Mr Edwardes. The document is lacking, but we have to thank Mr Foster's East India Records' for the brief précis or abstract of it, made by some official person in the employment of the Company at home. "He [Captain Downton, to wit] reproveth Wm. Edwardes very sharply of many abuses in general and particular, and wishes him to take measure of himself with reformation: wherein I gather that if Captain Downton be truly humble, charitable, and sincere, then is William Edwardes very blamable." This is a judicious suspension of judgment and well worded. We will imitate the excellent example of the

DOWNTON.

abstract, and say nothing of the quarrel-except this, that Captain Downton had quoted Wither's 'Abuses Stript and Whipt,' which Edwardes had lent him to read on the voyage.

The Cape merchant was quite good-humoured, and made a jest of the fact that he had provided the rod for his own castigation.

I fear that the reader is only too likely to ask who Captain Nicholas Downton was, and why he should be called upon to take an interest in the style and actions of a man few have heard of? The answer ought to be sufficient at a time when we have taken to talking a great deal about the Empire. He was one of the band of sea captains and servants of the Company of the Merchants of London trading to the East, who were the true founders of the British Empire in India. When Mr Froude exhorted Englishmen to turn again to their "Forgotten Worthies," he picked as examples heroes who had never been forgotten. Was there ever a time when Englishmen had lost all memory of Gilbert, Hawkins, Drake, Raleigh, and Grenville? Is there now any considerable body of us who could reply with confidence, if they were asked to say who were, and what were, the achievements of Lancaster, the Middletons, Henry and David, Sharpeigh, Best, Saris, or Downton? Yet they ventured

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