Our people had neglected to inclose the wells within the palisade of the camp—an unpardonable oversight, which in the sequel exposed us to the most severe privation. The chiefs of the expedition proceeded on their arrival to pay their respects to the old almamy, carrying with them valuable presents to dispose him in our favour.
This was not all: they were obliged to make him fresh presents every day, for the greedy almamy was incessantly craving. Curious to see this sovereign, I repaired to his residence: I penetrated thither without impediment, and found the king of Bondou seated on a mat spread upon the ground, watching a negro mason belonging to our expedition, for whom he had applied, that he might build him a stone powder-room destined to contain the ammunition with which we had presented him.
The almamy of Bondou, a man of about seventy, had quite white hair, a long beard, and a face deeply wrinkled. He was dressed in two pagnes[4] of the country and covered with amulets down to the ancles. He eyed me with a look of indifference and seemed to pay much more attention to the work of the mason than to my presence, which afforded me leisure to examine without giving him offence.
Having staid some days at Boulibaneh, during which we were on the best terms with the inhabitants, Major Gray made arrangements for quitting this royal residence. But before his departure he deemed it right to make the almamy a farewell present: it consisted of a piece of Guinea cloth,[5] and a few trifling articles. Whether the prince was dissatisfied with it, or apprehensive that the English were going to join the French for the purpose of attacking his dominions, or had vowed not to allow us to pass, he declared with feigned regret that he could not permit us to proceed to Bakel; that he would suffer us to go to Clego, but we must traverse his territories and those of Kaarta: otherwise there was no alternative for us but to take the road of Fouta-Toro, to reach the Senegal. These two routes were equally arduous and dangerous for us, since we were sure to find in both those countries people as fanatic and as barbarous as the inhabitants of Bondou. It was evidently the almamy’s design to cause us to be plundered and perhaps murdered. Our situation became alarming. A council was held, and the indignation excited by the almamy’s conduct caused the adoption of the violent measure of opening by force a passage to Bakel. The animals were immediately laden, and preparations made for breaking up: but no sooner was our intention known than the king’s soldiers, fifty in number, armed with lances and muskets, came and possessed themselves of the wells and surrounded our camp. We had but little water, through the imprudence which I have mentioned above; and notwithstanding the economical manner in which we employed it, we were on the point of being totally cut off from it. In Africa it is easier to reduce a place by thirst than by famine.
This was not the only danger that threatened us; the war-drums were already heard on all sides. At the sound of this tocsin of alarm, crowds of armed men hastened to obey the summons of their chiefs; and a tremendous uproar every where prevailed. In less than two hours a numerous army was on foot, ready to rush upon us: resistance became impossible, since we were no more than one hundred and thirty persons. Notwithstanding the ardour and the despair which animated all of us, we could not hope to withstand so many foes united. It was useless therefore, to think of fighting, and all that could now be done was to endeavour by new negociations to avert the calamities which threatened us: such were the sentiments of the chief officers of the expedition; they conceived that a battle could not fail to have a most disastrous issue; and that, independently of the loss of men and the pillage of goods, it would thenceforward render the whites objects of horror and execration in the interior of Africa. These prudent reflexions induced our chief to demand a palaver, which was granted by our enemies, but with the superiority and haughtiness of men sure of victory.
The almamy rejected all the propositions that were made to him, and arrogantly dictated the conditions of peace: all that could be wrung from him by dint of solicitations and presents was permission to keep as near the Senegal as possible, that we might not be in want of water: but he was inflexible in regard to the route which we were to pursue; Fouta-Toro, or no water, was his definitive answer. We submitted thankfully to every thing, and, when once assured of our obedience, he made a sign to the soldiers who guarded the wells to retire, and we could then drink with security. The anxiety in which we were during this parley, added to the heat, caused us to consider this permission of the almamy’s as a kindness, especially for our animals, which had been on their legs with their loads ever since day-break, without eating or drinking.
Our departure for Fouta-Toro was deferred till the following day. Our caravan resembled a long file of prisoners: a multitude of horsemen hovered upon our wings, to prevent our straggling. The almamy was more vigilant on this point than any other; the traitor, to make the more sure that this valuable booty would not escape his allies of Fouta-Toro, followed us to our first halting-place, and did not leave us till he had received a fresh present; but, on retiring, he committed the duty of superintending our march to several princes of his family, who accompanied us with a numerous escort of soldiers, horse and foot. Night having come on, a large fire was lighted, and, that we might no longer be embarrassed by the baggage which retarded our progress, orders were issued that every one should throw into it all he possessed, excepting such articles of clothing as were absolutely necessary. This useful sacrifice was made before the faces of the Foulahs, who in vain entreated us to desist. In our just indignation against them we would rather have suffered death than have allowed them to save so much as a handkerchief from the flames.
At day-break the next morning we entered Fouta-Toro preceded by a very bad reputation. The people of Bondou had so effectually recommended us to their neighbours, that wherever we went we met with only hostile looks and inimical dispositions; neither were we any where suffered to supply ourselves with water till the price of it had been fixed: the reader will perhaps scarcely believe that frequently it cost us six francs per bottle. If we ever deviated from the track prescribed by our convention with the almamy of Bondou, the natives immediately secured all the wells, and we were obliged to return to the route agreed upon lest we should perish with thirst. At another time, on the contrary, the people of a village would have forced us to quit the road we were pursuing for another which would have taken us to a distance from the Senegal. I know not how we should have been able to withstand this fresh violence, since we were to have been allowed access to the wells only upon the dreadful condition of pursuing this latter route; as we were all reduced to extremity and our strength exhausted, two wretched blunderbusses would not have sufficed for laying siege to the wells. Fortunately, M. Partarrieu found means to gain a chief, who procured us two skinfuls of water; they cost us nearly ten francs a bottle; but having allayed our thirst we somewhat recovered our spirits and pursued our journey.
Having got out of this dilemma, we proceeded to another village, situated at a little distance from the Senegal, intending to take the first opportunity of approaching the river. Here we halted to hold council: it was resolved that we should rest there, and break up secretly in the middle of the night for the purpose of gaining the bank of the river. This resolution of M. Partarrieu’s was opposed by Major Gray; he objected that we might be attacked by the way, and that, after having broken the convention we should be treated as deserters, and surely murdered; adding, that he had better take with him one attendant and make the best of his way to the French factory at Bakel, to solicit succour. In vain did M. Partarrieu strive to convince him of the imprudence of such a plan and the danger in which we should be left by his absence, “When the Foulahs,” he added, “shall know that our chief is no longer with us, they will consider us as a body without head and not hesitate to attack us.” All was to no purpose; the major would not listen to any remonstrance, and departed. In the morning, the Foulahs discovered his absence; they came in crowds, accusing us of treachery, and using terrible menaces; they were even preparing to fire, when M. Partarrieu conceived the happy idea of telling them that he had quarrelled with Major Gray, and that he would rather die than suffer him to come back to us. This tale was believed; the Foulahs were appeased and permitted us to go to a village situated near the river.
Major Gray accordingly repaired to Bakel, where he obtained a few blacks, with whom he set out to rejoin us; but, like ourselves he did wrong in coming off without water; having been unable to procure any by the way, he dispersed his men to seek for some. They not only found none, but lost themselves in the woods, where they fell in with the Foulahs, who, apprized of their departure, had gone in force to oppose their junction with us, and easily made them prisoners. In this affair a few shots were fired: several French negroes were dangerously wounded, and one of them had his thigh broken: Donzon subsequently performed amputation at Bakel.