I was now assured that the chief had had his canoe men put in irons for disappointing us, but unfortunately a minute afterwards I recognized them in the crowd.
I copy the following sentence from my journal written on the spur of the moment—
WOMEN OF BUSSA.
“It is very evident that the English have not lost time since last year; they have not, it is true, as I feared they would, pushed their effective occupation up-stream, but have merely, so to speak, set going the cavalry of Saint George. Their plan is simply to delay us; yes, to delay us till it is impossible for our boats to pass the rapids. We should then be obliged to go by land through Burgu, which they know to be dangerous, and where they have no doubt sown obstacles for us—one well-aimed shot, one well-planted poisoned arrow, and there would be an end of our expedition and its results. Otherwise there would be nothing left for us to do but to go down to Leba and ask the English to co-operate with us.
“This was the policy described by Agoult, but Inch Allah! our rivals will not have the latter satisfaction. Let us pass the rapids somehow or other, and I promise myself that I will describe the odiousness of such conduct even to, indeed especially to, the honest portion of the English nation. The first thing to be done is to pass the rapids.”
Weary of the dispute, and seeing that I was quite decided not to return to the village, the messenger from the chief now left. Our old guide was in despair, for he had boasted so much to us of his influence over the chief of Bussa. “I must have become blind or stupid,” he said, “for he cannot really have been telling lies all the time.”
I tried to persuade Amadu to accompany us at least, but he confessed that though it was true he had passed the rapids, it was twenty years ago. Still he did not like to refuse straight out. He would land now, and then he would see.
Night had now fallen, and a quarter of an hour after our guide had left we heard loud cries and the noise of people running. We seized our weapons, but it was only old Amadu coming back out of breath. Four or five pieces of stuff which I had given him as payment had been stolen from him. Some men had fallen on him about half-way to the village.
Seeing that they meant to take his life, or at least to deprive him of liberty, he had drawn his sword (it was only a bit of iron from an old cask), resolved to defend himself to the last. The Bussa bravos, five against one poor old man, had at first run away, and Amadu had profited by their alarm to take to his own legs. Then they ran after him again, but he managed to get safely back to us on board our boat without further adventures.