Chapter II: Introduction

Having cherished from my earliest infancy a strong desire to become a traveller, I have always seized with avidity any occasion that could facilitate the means of acquiring knowledge; but, notwithstanding all my efforts to supply the want of a good education, I have not been able to procure more than a scanty store of information. My thorough conviction of the inadequacy of my means frequently grieved me, when thinking of all that I needed for the performance of the task which I had imposed on myself; but still, while reflecting on the dangers and difficulties of such an enterprise, I hoped that the notes and observations which I should bring back from my travels would be received with interest by the public. I did not, therefore, relinquish for a moment the hope of exploring some unknown portion of Africa; and in the sequel the city of Timbuctoo became the continual object of all my thoughts, the aim of all my efforts, and I formed a resolution to reach it or perish. Now that I have had the happiness to accomplish this design, the public will perhaps grant some indulgence to the narrative of an unpresuming traveller, who relates simply what he has seen, the events which have befallen him, and the facts which he has witnessed.

I was born in 1800, at Mauzé, in the department of the Deux-Sèvres; my parents who were poor, I had the misfortune to lose in my childhood. I received no other education than what the charity-school of my village afforded; and as soon as I could read and write, I was put to learn a trade, to which I soon took a dislike, owing to the reading of voyages and travels, which occupied all my leisure moments. The History of Robinson Crusoe, in particular, inflamed my young imagination: I was impatient to encounter adventures like him; nay, I already felt an ambition to signalize myself by some important discovery springing up in my heart.

Geographical books and maps were lent to me: the map of Africa, in which I saw scarcely any but countries marked as desert or unknown, excited my attention more than any other. In short, this predilection grew into a passion for which I renounced every thing: I ceased to join in the sports and amusements of my comrades; I shut myself up on sundays to read all the books of travels that I was able to procure. I talked to my uncle, who was my guardian, of my desire to travel: he disapproved it, forcibly representing the dangers which I should incur at sea, and the regret which I should feel far away from my country and my family—in short, he neglected nothing to divert me from my project. My resolution, however, was irrevocable; I still insisted on setting out, and he made no further opposition.

All that I possessed was sixty francs, and with this trifle I proceeded to Rochefort in 1816, and embarked in the brig La Loire, bound to Senegal.

This vessel, as it is well known, sailed in company with La Méduse, on board which was M. Mollien, with whom I was not then acquainted, and who has since made such interesting discoveries in the interior of Africa. Our brig, having luckily parted company with La Méduse, arrived without accident in the road of St. Louis. From that place I proceed to Dakar, a village in the peninsula of Cape Verd, whither the unfortunate persons saved from the wreck of La Méduse were conveyed by La Loire. After a stay of some months at this dreary spot, when the English had restored the colony to the French, I set out for St. Louis.

At the moment of my arrival, the English government was preparing an expedition, under the direction of Major Peddie, for exploring the interior of Africa: when ready, it proceeded to Kakondy, a village situated on the Rio Nuñez. The major died on his arrival there. Captain Campbell, who assumed the command of the expedition, set out with his numerous caravan to cross the high mountains of Fouta-Diallon: in a few days he lost part of his beasts of burden and several men; he nevertheless determined to pursue his journey, but no sooner had he entered the territories of the _almamy_[1] of Fouta-Diallon than the expedition was detained by order of that sovereign. It was obliged to pay a heavy contribution to the almamy for permission to return by the way it had come, to recross rivers which it had passed with great difficulty, and to endure such persecutions that, to put an end to them and to render his march less embarrassing, the commander caused the dry goods to be burned, the muskets to be broken, and the gunpowder to be thrown into the river. On this disastrous return Captain Campbell and several of his officers ended their lives at the same place where Major Peddie died: they were interred at the same spot with him, at the foot of an orange tree, at the factory of Mr. Bethmann, an English merchant.

The rest of the troops of Captain Campbell’s expedition sailed for Sierra Leone.

Some time afterwards, a new expedition was formed, and the command of it given to Major Gray. The English spared neither trouble nor expense to render it still more imposing and more numerous than the first. To avoid the terrible almamy of Timbo, the travellers proceeded by water to the Gambia and sailed up the river. As soon as the expedition had landed, it traversed Oulli and Gabou, and at length arrived in Bondou; but the inhabitants of Bondou are like those of Fouta-Diallon, equally fanatic, and equally malevolent, and their king showed not less ill will towards the English. Upon pretext of some old debt or other contracted by the English government, he demanded such a quantity of goods that Major Gray was soon entirely stripped, and obliged, as will be seen hereafter, to send an officer to the Senegal to procure more, in the hope of obtaining a passage by means of them.

I was ignorant of these unpleasant circumstances when I heard of the English expedition; and not doubting that Major Gray, standing in need of hands, would eagerly accept the offer of my services, though I was a stranger to him, I determined to proceed by land to the Gambia. I set out from St. Louis, accompanied by two negroes who returned to Dakar, and took the road leading from Gandiolle to the peninsula of Cape Verd. We travelled on foot: I was then very young, and my companions were two vigorous walkers, so that I was obliged to run in order to keep up with them. I cannot express the fatigue I felt, under the oppressive heat, journeying over a burning and almost moving sand. If I could but have obtained a little fresh water to allay the thirst which consumed me!—none was to be found but at some distance from the sea; and we were obliged to keep near the beach, that we might have a more solid footing. My legs were covered with blisters, and I thought that I should have been knocked up before we reached Dakar: at length, however, we arrived at that village, where I made no stay, but immediately took a passage in a boat which conveyed me to Goree.

The torments which I had already endured led me to reflect on the still greater hardships to which I was about to expose myself: the persons who felt a friendship for me, and M. Gavol in particular, had not therefore much trouble to divert me from my design; and, to gratify in some measure my fondness for travel, that worthy officer procured me a gratuitous passage on board a merchantman which was sailing for Guadeloupe.

I arrived in that colony with some letters of recommendation, and obtained a petty appointment, which I held but for six months. My passion for travelling began to revive; the perusal of Mungo Park gave new strength to my projects; and lastly, my constitution, having withstood a residence of some length at the Senegal and in Guadeloupe, gave me hopes of this time executing them with success.

I sailed from Pointe-à-Pitre for Bordeaux, and thence returned to the Senegal. Arriving at St. Louis, at the conclusion of 1818, with scanty resources, for I had exceedingly diminished them by useless voyages, I was not to be deterred by any consideration: every thing seemed possible to my adventurous spirit, and chance seemed to second my designs.

M. Adrien Partarrieu, who had been sent by Major Gray to purchase at St. Louis the goods required by the King of Bondou, was preparing to rejoin the expedition. I called upon M. Partarrieu, and proposed to accompany him without salary or engagement of any kind for the moment. He replied that he could not promise me any thing for the future, but that I was at liberty to join him if I pleased. I had soon decided—happy to seize so favourable an opportunity of visiting unknown countries and participating in an expedition of discovery.

M. Partarrieu’s caravan was composed of sixty or seventy men both white and black, and thirty-two camels richly laden.

We set out, on the sixth of February, 1819, from Gandiolle, a village in the kingdom of Cayor, situated at a short distance from the Senegal. The damel, or king, whom our presents had rendered favourable to us, issued orders that we should be well treated; we met every where with an hospitable reception, and in several places the people carried their generosity so far as to subsist our whole company without accepting any remuneration. On reaching the frontiers of Cayor, we came to a desert which separates it from the country of the Yolofs. It is well known that formerly these two countries belonged to the same sovereign, who governed them with the title of _boor_, or emperor, and that the damel is only an independent vassal: we experienced the same kind reception from the subjects of the boor of Yolof.

It was not long before we had to regret the generous hospitality of the Yolofs. On quitting their country we entered a desert, where, for five days’ journey, we were exposed to a thousand hardships. I hope to be forgiven for entering into these details, the only ones which could have fixed themselves in the memory of a mere youth, travelling rather in quest of adventures than for the purpose of making observations.

Our camels were so laden with goods, that we had been able to take with us but a very small quantity of water: it was soon found necessary to deal out but a very small portion to each person: mine was not more abundant. How could I complain—I, a useless consumer, attached to the expedition through the mere condescension of the leader! I had no right to find fault, but I suffered extremely from thirst. I was sometimes reduced to extremity; for, having no beast to ride upon, I was obliged to follow on foot. I have been since told that my eyes were hollow, that I panted for breath, and that my tongue hung out of my mouth: for my own part, I recollect that at every halt, I fell to the ground from weakness, and had not even the courage to eat. At length my sufferings excited the pity of all; and M. Partarrieu had the kindness to divide with me his portion of water as well as a fruit which he had found. This fruit resembles the potatoe; its pulp is white and of an agreeable flavour: we subsequently found many such, which were of great service to us.

A sailor, having in vain tried all means to allay his thirst, and set about seeking fruits, was deceived by the resemblance borne by one to that which M. Partarrieu had given to me. He ate it, and it set his mouth on fire as if it had been pimento: from the retching and the violent pains with which he was seized we concluded that he was poisoned; every one cheerfully gave up to him some of his allowance of drink; but he appeared to be relieved so suddenly that I have since thought his illness was only a feint to excite pity and get a little more water. I was not, however the worst off, for I saw several drink their urine.

We arrived at length at Boulibaba, a village inhabited by pastoral Foulahs, who live during part of the year in the woods and subsist entirely upon milk seasoned with the fruit of the baobab. To us Boulibaba was a paradise; we there found limpid and abundant springs: the water which we eagerly drank seemed to us excellent, but we had to pay a high price for it, the Foulahs to whom it belonged being poor and very selfish. We encamped near the village, the straw houses of which are in the form of a sugar-loaf truncated at top: the door is so low that, in order to enter, the inhabitants are obliged to crawl on all fours.

No sooner was our arrival known than the whole village sallied forth to look at us: a Foulah came to the foot of the tree where I was resting and asked me in the Wolof, which I understood, for a _grigri_[2] to confer riches. I wrote one for him, and out of gratitude he gave me a bowl of milk. I was nevertheless his dupe, for scarcely was he gone when I perceived that he had stolen my black silk cravat.

On quitting Boulibaba we had another desert without water to traverse: before we entered it, we thought it advisable to recruit ourselves from the fatigues which we had undergone and to sojourn some days with the Foulah herdsmen. A stock of water was procured: guides were hired, and we set out.

After we had made half a day’s journey we arrived at Paillar, where we laid in a fresh store of water. It would not have been prudent to traverse Fouta-Toro, the inhabitants of which are thieves and fanatics: we avoided it by turning a little to the south. The precautions which we had taken to obviate the want of water cheered our minds. The country in general appeared to us to be fine: we beheld with admiration trees of great height, with umbrageous foliage, covered with birds of various kinds, which by their song enlivened these solitudes. It was no doubt the agreeable sensations produced by this scenery that caused us partly to forget our fatigues, though we travelled from sunrise till near ten o’clock at night, taking but a few moments’ rest during the day. On the fifth day, however, we were all exhausted: we suffered from thirst, and our water was nearly spent. European ingenuity came to our succour: peppermint-drops were distributed among us, and we experienced immediate relief. Our camels suffered severely for want of water and forage, having no other food than young branches of trees, cut off here and there.

At length we reached a hamlet where the negroes readily brought us some calebashes of water, but they were not prodigal of it, and this was prudent, considering the number of men and animals to be supplied: for my part, I received no more than about a large glassful. But no sooner did we begin to drink than swarms of bees settled upon the vessels containing the water, and even upon our lips, disputing it with us; and to this horrid punishment, these grievous pangs, we had been several times exposed during the journey. I have frequently seen the water-skins covered with bees, which we had no means of driving away but by burning green wood, the smoke of which forced them to quit.

At length we entered Bondou. M. Partarrieu, who was extremely afraid of falling in with the almamy, wished to avoid Boulibaneh, his usual residence, and to reach Bakel speedily and by the direct route; but the inhabitants of Potako, the second village we came to, manifested a disposition to oppose this design. It was therefore necessary to encamp for the purpose of holding a _palaver_.[3] This palaver still continued; we were near wells, but were not supplied either with water or provisions; no millet was brought, and a war of famine was commenced. This system of attack upon us was the worst and the most dangerous of all: it behoved us to meet it with firmness and resolution. M. Partarrieu, who was not deficient in these qualities, was preparing to pursue his route directly towards Bakel, and we were on the point of starting, when Major Gray, the commander of the expedition, who came to meet us, appeared on horseback, and directed us to go to Boulibaneh, under the idea that the almamy would keep his word, and that, after he had received our goods he would suffer us to pass. Major Gray was rather credulous. For the rest, the inhabitants, as soon as they saw us change our route, readily permitted us to draw water and brought us abundance of provisions of all kinds. Peace being concluded and both parties on good terms, traffic commenced.

The day after the arrival of Major Gray we received orders to set out and to take the road to Boulibaneh: we could do no other than obey; but, that the inhabitants of that capital might not remark the great quantity of goods which we brought with us, we entered the place at night. I was in the rear-guard, with some English soldiers mounted on asses: these poor fellows were exhausted with fatigue: never had they made so arduous a campaign; they proposed to stay behind: I prevented them from so doing and we at length rejoined, though rather late, the head of the caravan, which we found asleep in the camp that it had formed outside the town. This camp was nothing more than a cluster of straw huts, surrounded by a palisade four feet high, formed of trunks of trees interlaced with branches.

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.

The news of this disaster soon reached us; without loss of time M. Partarrieu repaired to the village where Major Gray was detained; entreaties, presents, threats, nothing could prevail upon the Foulahs to release him; and the joy we felt on being allowed to proceed at not too great distance from the river was embittered by grief at seeing the major conducted on horseback, under a strong escort, by a contrary route to ours. The Foulahs took him away solely with a view to induce us to turn back and follow him; but, conceiving that this proof of our attachment to the major would only have involved us in destruction, we took good care not to run into the snare which was laid for us, as, by so doing, we should in all probability have merely increased to no purpose the number of victims to an imprudence, which no solicitations could dissuade the major from committing.

We continued our route, still proceeding northward. After suffering at several places a repetition of the same torments, we reached Adgar, a village only a day’s journey and a half distant from Bakel. Here M. Partarrieu halted and encamped close to the place, as if he intended to make a long stay there: he then visited the chief, and talked to him of sending off his sick to Bakel, that he might afterwards proceed with more ease to Fouta-Toro; but, perceiving that this plan displeased the village chief, he had recourse to a stratagem to gain his consent: he told him that, not having animals enough to carry all his baggage, he should leave part of his goods with him. The chief, perceiving in this proposition the means of subsequently possessing himself of a valuable booty, assented to every thing. M. Partarrieu immediately directed part of the chests with which the camels were usually laden to be filled with stones, and having locked these chests, he had them carried to the chief of the village; he then put aside the chests containing our goods. The camels, it is well known, are accustomed to cry when they are loaded; to obviate the danger in which this cry, the signal for our departure, might have involved us, we took care to make our camels utter this cry for several successive nights, that the inhabitants of the village might not know the moment of our flight.

All the arrangements being made, a very dark night was chosen, and as soon as we judged that every body was asleep, we started, leaving tents, huts, and palisades, standing, without extinguishing the fires which we had kindled, without even removing the pots which had been set on them for our supper, that the discovery of our departure by the inhabitants might be delayed as long as possible. The justice of this calculation of a prudent foresight was speedily demonstrated.

Part of the caravan pushed on before by a route which it opened for itself. I remained with the rear-guard, under the direction of M. Partarrieu and an English serjeant who had the superintendence of the baggage: this division set out an hour later than the other.

Such was our fear of being discovered, and so sensible were we of the imminence of our danger, that our march was more like a rout than a retreat. Forsaken chests and bales were to be seen every where; nay the very animals, as if aware of the peril and anxious to avoid it, were more untractable than ever, and scampered away across the country after throwing off their loads. It was more than two hours before we came up with our first division. Gracious Heaven! what anxiety we felt during those two painful hours! scarcely durst we ask what had become of our companions, scarcely durst we think of them; we fancied that they were taken, and had every reason to apprehend the like fate ourselves. A horn was blown from time to time: this signal of distress, amid the silence of night and the horror of the desert, had something doleful which made us shudder. Could we but have heard some answer to it! but no, not the faintest sound, not even the shriek of a night-bird enlivened the woods which we traversed in the utmost haste. Presently we perceived nothing but ambuscades on all sides; every bush, every tree, assumed to our agitated minds the form of armed enemies; every branch was mistaken for a levelled musket. At length we had recourse to a final expedient to convey to a distance an intimation of our approach. A gun was fired: echo by repeating the report several times, increased our consternation without imparting a hope that we were heard. I then compared our situation with that of the victims on the raft of La Méduse, cast upon the bank of Arquin, without hope of relief. Excessive fear gave us the courage of despair, and we made such a noise with our horns that the first division at length heard it and answered us. With what joy did we accelerate our pace to come up with it! at last we joined it just as day began to dawn. We hastily deliberated on the course to be pursued. On all sides we were surrounded with dangers; but, at any rate, the farther we proceeded from the village which we had left the preceding night, the nearer we should approach to the Senegal. This plan was unanimously adopted; and to carry it into effect with the greater chance of success, we abandoned baggage, animals, goods of all sorts; such was the panic that had seized every mind.

Day-light appeared, and enabled us to discover a village close to us; but fortunately its inhabitants had not yet risen, and we were not perceived. We soon came to a stony road which indicated the vicinity of the river; the hope of procuring water rendered our thirst more tormenting, and agitated our minds to such a degree that we kept advancing without knowing where we were: and we might have continued thus but for a negro whom we met and forced to conduct us to the river: he first led us past a field, where several negroes, who were at work, fled at sight of us towards their village. At length, at ten o’clock in the morning, we arrived at a hamlet situated on the left bank of the Senegal, at a little distance from Bakel. Without halting there, we lost no time in availing ourselves of a ford a short way off to cross the river. Though the water was then low, yet in some places it was up to our chins, so that every man was obliged to carry his things upon his head for fear of wetting them.

We were now on the right bank of the river, and it was high time we were, for some of our number were still crossing when multitudes of Foulahs appeared on the other side armed with pikes and arrows. It had been all over with us had we fallen in with them in the woods, for they were the neighbours to our camp, enraged at having been deceived by our stratagem. They durst not cross the river; but reckoning upon our simplicity, they made signs to M. Partarrieu to come to them and explain himself. The latter replied, that if they would call upon him at Bakel he would hear what they had to say. This invitation was not acceptable to them; accordingly they never came, but returned immediately to their village.

After crossing the river we were still a day’s journey from Bakel: and though it would have been more prudent to push on to that place at once, we were all so overwhelmed with fatigue that we were obliged to encamp by the way before night. We went to sleep in the most complete security, under the idea that the sentinels would keep good watch; but these sentinels having undergone the same fatigues as ourselves fell asleep too. No accident, however, befel us, and early next morning we arrived at Bakel.

The reader may conceive our joy on entering that fort, especially when we observed the generous zeal with which Messrs. Dupont and Dusseault, who commanded there, hastened to relieve us. We were treated with the kindest attention and supplied with refreshments of all sorts; and our joy was at its height, when we saw Major Gray return, the negroes having released him as soon as they ascertained that he could not serve them for an hostage to bring us back to them: nay more, their envoys, more tractable under the cannon of the fort of Bakel, restored to us part of the things which we had abandoned on our flight, and which they had picked up.

The rainy season, upon which we were entering, shed its baleful influence over me as well as the others. I had the fever, which soon assumed so alarming a character that I quitted the expedition and embarked on the Senegal to descend to St. Louis. I hoped, by the aid of medicine and the effects of a more salubrious climate, to recover my health in that town; but my disorder was so violent, that my convalescence was long and difficult. To complete my recovery, I saw no other way but to return to France, and I sailed for L’Orient.

There I learned that Major Gray, after making fresh purchases of goods at the Senegal for the purpose of continuing his journey in the interior, had failed in all his attempts, not without injuring the French commerce, a species of success which can have made but poor amends for the enormous loss which he has occasioned to England: for his enterprize, and those of Peddie, Campbell, and Tuckey, have, it is said, together cost England eighteen millions in French money (£750,000 sterling).

In 1824, I returned to the Senegal to try my fortune with a small venture, for which M. Sourget, a merchant of distinguished merit, made advances for me: the paternal sentiments which he manifested for me I shall ever hold in grateful remembrance.

I need not observe that, at the bottom of my heart, I still cherished my design of visiting the interior of Africa: and it seemed as if no obstacle could any longer impede me, when I saw at the head of the colony Baron Roger, whose philanthropy and enlightened understanding promised me a patron of all great and useful enterprizes.

I solicited therefore his authority for travelling in the interior, with the support and under the auspices of the king’s government: but M. Roger strove in the kindest manner to damp my zeal. He represented to me that the business in which I had embarked offered chances of fortune which it was imprudent to sacrifice; and that my youth and inexperience might moreover ruin my future prospects, and perhaps endanger my life. These representations entitled him to my gratitude, but did not shake my resolution.

I was bent on going, and I declared that if the government would not accept my offers, I would carry my plan into execution with my own unaided means. This determination made an impression upon the mind of the governor, who granted me some goods, that I might go and live among the Braknas and learn the Arabic language and the religious ceremonies of the Moors, in order that I might subsequently be able to lull their jealous mistrust, and thus penetrate the more easily to the interior of Africa.

=TRAVELS=
TO
=TIMBUCTOO,=
_&c. &c._

* * * * *