On the evening of the 28th, we came abreast of the huts of Sinder, and a deputation from the village brought us some provisions. I expressed my intention of going to see the chief, but I was dissuaded from doing so on one pretext or another, and when I insisted I was told—“Well, come if you will, but if you want to please us, you will not come. We know now that you do not intend to do us any harm, but the last white man who passed this way killed a lot of people, and the grief of the mothers and wives of the dead will be renewed if they see you.”
Whether this excuse was true or not, it seemed to me a very reasonable one. We had had such an exceedingly narrow escape of a conflict with the Tuaregs, that I was determined to be extremely prudent. I did not see Sinder after all, but I console myself with the thought that at least those who come after us will not suffer from the memory of anything we did, and will not, through our fault, incur any of the dangers we escaped.
Below Sinder the river again became such as to make us almost despair. After having painfully made our way for about a mile, we found some fresh guides waiting for us. Evidently the natives were eager to speed the parting guest! “I don’t know however we shall get through,” said Digui; but we did manage it once more, though the Aube scraped on a rock without doing herself much harm. In the course of the whole day we only made about four and a half miles.
Monday the 30th was again a most exciting day. The Aube struck no less than three times, and the last accident in the Kokoro pass was a serious one. It really seemed as if our troubles would never end! The unfortunate barge had three planks of her bottom staved in, and the water rushed in as if she were made of wicker-work.
OUR SINDER GUIDES.
The scenery on the banks was grand; big villages alternating with great plantations of millet. All the islands have a coating of extremely fertile vegetable mould, unwholesome enough in itself, but which the natives have known how to turn to account.
At our anchorage we found our old friend the blacksmith of Bokar Wandieïdu, whose master himself it appears had wished to see us, and had waited for us until the day before. Amadu had made one last effort to turn him against us, and had sent couriers to him to urge him to attack us, but Bokar had replied by quoting the orders of Madidu, saying that all he had to do was to obey them.
The morning of the 31st began by the Aube striking again, but after that the river became quite perfect. It had never been so good anywhere before, and nothing impeded its course but a few low rocks, which were just enough to relieve the monotony of the voyage.
This was not of course likely to last, and very soon impediments again became numerous. It was now the turn of the Davoust to fling herself upon a pointed rock, escaping by a hair’s-breadth from serious damage. We passed the big villages, or rather the collections of villages known as Malo, containing perhaps as many as 10,000 inhabitants, and we halted for the night a little above Azemay, opposite to a difficult pass, which would have to be reconnoitred before we could attempt it. We had made 15½ miles!—a very good day!