A group of some twenty horsemen had been following us ever since the morning, and they halted at the landing-place of the village, unsaddled their steeds and let them drink. On a height on which the village is perched a square battalion of something like a thousand warriors was drawn up.
All remained perfectly still, and not a cry or threat broke the silence. We passed very slowly, our barges swept on by the current, whilst we on deck looked about us proudly. Our enemies on their side acquitted themselves bravely, and with considerable dignity, though it must be confessed they reminded us rather of china dogs glaring at each other.
When all is said and done, however, I think I may claim the credit of having fairly challenged the Toucouleurs, leaving them to take up my glove or to leave it alone as they chose. This may have seemed like bravado, and perhaps there was a little of that in my attitude, but as an old warrior of the Sudan myself, and a fellow-worker though a humble one of the Gallieni and the Archinards, I would rather have run any risk than have had our historic enemies the Toucouleurs think I was afraid of them. The tone I took up too gave us an ascendency later which we sorely needed.
After going about twenty-two miles further down the river, we anchored near enough to Say to make out the trees surrounding it, and the next day we reached the town itself, which had for so long been the object of our desires.
Say is a comparatively big place, but not nearly as important as it is often made out to be. It is made up of straw huts with pointed roofs, and is surrounded by palisades also of straw. Only one house is built of mud, and that forms the entrance sacred to the chief.
The river flows on the east of the town, and on the west is a low-lying tract of what are meadows in the dry season, but mere swamps in the winter.
We anchored at once, but the stench from the rubbish on the banks of the river was so great that we soon moved to the southern extremity of the village, where the shore was cleaner.
Our passengers meanwhile had gone to announce our arrival, and old Abdu, who is in command of the prisoners of the chief of Say, soon came to see us. Baud and Vermesch had had some dealings with him, and had spoken well of him to us, while Monteil also alludes to him. He seemed a very worthy sort of fellow.
After the customary exchange of compliments, I asked to be permitted to pay a visit to his master, Amadu Saturu, generally known under the name of Modibo, or the savant, and Abdu went off to make my request known at once, but we waited and waited a very long time before any answer was vouchsafed.
We were simply consumed with impatience, and I augured ill from the delay. I remembered of course that Modibo had signed treaty after treaty with Baud, Decœur, and Toutée, only I could not help also remembering how little a diplomatic document such as a so-called treaty really ever binds a negro, and that made me hesitate to trust him.