At our anchorage we met a man named Osman, from Say, who had come, he told us, to see one of his relations, but being uneasy as to our intentions with regard to Amadu, he begged us to give him passage on board one of our boats.
The heat was now becoming most oppressive, and to remain stationary for a whole day looking at the white sheets of our hydrographical survey, not to speak of all the anxieties of our position, was really a very hard task. We consoled ourselves, however, by thinking of the rest we should get at Say. I did not, however, entirely share the confidence of my companions, especially of Dr. Taburet, who, always optimistic, indulged in visions of calabashes full of milk, piles of eggs and other luxuries, building culinary castles in the air. Hitherto, whenever we had hoped for a friendly reception we had always been disappointed, and when we feared hostility from the natives, we had generally been kindly welcomed. The remembrance of Sinder proves that this was the case with others. Captain Toutée says that he was hailed as a liberator there, whilst we barely escaped ending our lives and expedition alike at that fatal spot.
On April 1 we reached Sansan-Haussa about two o’clock. It is a very large village, but we were disappointed in it, for we had expected to find it encircled by a tata or earthen wall, its name of Sansan meaning a fortified enceinte. Now there is an enceinte, it is true, but it is made of straw! all the houses are also constructed of straw. To make up for this, the granaries for storing the millet are really beautiful. We anchored opposite the market-place, where the market, it appeared, was to be held the very next day. The chief of the village came to see us. He was a Kurteye, and told us he would send a guide with us to the chief of his tribe at Sorbo, a little further down stream.
After a night during which, for a wonder, our rest was not disturbed by the noise of roaring rapids, we went over and anchored opposite the left bank near the village itself. We were quickly surrounded by a crowd of men, women, and children, all alike showing a confidence in us to which we had long been unaccustomed. Those who were ill flocked to Taburet, and dealers in iron and ostrich feathers hastened to offer us their wares. The feathers we found to be relatively dear, a complete set being worth 250,000 cowries, or nearly three pounds sterling. A caravan, we were told, had lately arrived from Rhât, which had greatly raised the value. A little boy from Rhât, of about twelve years old, came to see us, and had a long chat with Father Hacquart. He had a gris-gris or charm made for us by a marabout belonging to his caravan, to protect us from the rapids we still had to encounter.
For the first time since we left Gao we met with the valuable kola nuts so much appreciated by the negroes, and I gave my people the greatest possible pleasure by distributing quantities of this delicacy amongst them. Each nut is worth some 150 cowries, or about three-halfpence.
Here, as the reader will have noticed, we begin to talk about cowries again. I have already said that these little univalve shells of the African coast are the usual currency from the source of the Niger to Timbuktu.
AT SANSAN-HAUSSA.
We went with Father Hacquart to return the visit the chief of the village had paid us the evening before. He did not seem to wish us to remain long in his country. He was afraid, he said. Why? we asked. It was evident that the Toucouleurs, of whom there were a good many in the village, had prejudiced him against us.
Two people came and asked us to give them a passage, one a Fulah named Mamadu of Mumi in Massina, who had been here for nine years unable to get away. We were to have a good deal to do with him during our stay at Say.