We had still two more rapids to cross, the first easy, the second more difficult, on account of a very violent current flowing towards a channel on the left encumbered with flints.
According to the maps, we should now come to a stretch of calm water. I hoped to anchor above the Auru pass, which would be the last, and to attempt its passage the next day.
At Auru the Niger makes a bend to the right of ninety degrees, and the main channel is so terribly encumbered with rocks and impedimenta of all kinds, whilst the current is at the same time so fearfully strong, that it would not do to attempt to go down it in the night. However, there is an arm which cuts across the bend, and though still very difficult, makes it possible to shoot the rapid.
All of a sudden, as we were quietly going along, the river in front of us seemed to turn abruptly to the right.
I began to suspect that there was a mistake on the maps, and that we were much nearer to Auru than we had thought. Still I hesitated for a minute. However, there was a little channel on the right with a hill rising above it on which was perched a village. It must be Auru. Just then the main current, which grew rapidly stronger, seized us, and we were on the point of being swept down by it and swamped. “To the bank! To the bank, Digui!” I shouted; “quick, quick!”—“All right, all right,” was the reply, and he tried to wring an explanation out of the guide, who could give none. Ten seconds wasted in discussion, and it would be too late. We were too late; we had passed the practicable channel.
“Anchor! anchor!” I shouted. Yes, the anchors hold, and for the moment we are saved!
On our starboard the banks consisted of half-submerged flints, from which grew some small aquatic trees. It was this vegetation which had misled our guide, for when he was here twenty years before it did not exist.
We now had to make our way against the current to get back to the good channel. It was simply impossible to do so by rowing. The only thing to be done was to lengthen our ropes, and fastening them to trees, tow ourselves along, so to speak, from place to place. It took us about three hours and a half to do it.
Somehow or another, however, we did achieve the difficult task of getting safely into the right course again.
The Dantec, which had anchored behind the Davoust, had only a light load now, and I thought it would take less time for her to cross the river and go up along the left bank, where the current was less violent.