, yet
he was extremely reluctant that I should penetrate Africa and make
alliances which should give me superiority over the monopolists of the
beach. I saw these things passing through his jealous heart as we
talked together with uncordial civility. At parting I told the Mongo,
for the first time, that I was sure my establishment would not go to
decay or suffer harm in my absence, inasmuch as that powerful Fullah,
the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon had deputed a lieutenant to watch Kambia
while I travelled, and that he would occupy my village with his chosen
warriors. The mulatto started with surprise as I finished, and
abruptly left the apartment in silence.

I slept well that night, notwithstanding the Mongo's displeasure. My
confidence in the Fullah was perfect. Stranger as he was, I had an
instinctive reliance on his protection of my home, and his
guardianship of my person through the wilderness.

At day-dawn I was up. It was a fresh and glorious morning. As nature
awoke in the woods of that primitive world, the mists stole off from
the surface of the water; and, as the first rays shot through the
glistening dew of the prodigious vegetation, a thousand birds sent
forth their songs as if to welcome me into their realm of unknown
paths.

After a hearty breakfast my Spanish clerk was furnished with minute
instructions in writing, and, at the last moment, I presented the
Fullah chief to my people as a temporary master to whom they were to
pay implicit obedience for his generous protection. By ten o'clock, my
caravan was in motion. It consisted of thirty individuals deputed by
Ahmah-de-Bellah, headed by one of his relations as captain. Ten of my
own servants were assigned to carry baggage, merchandise, and
provisions; while Ali-Ninpha, two interpreters, my body-servant, a
waiter, and a hunter, composed my immediate guard. In all, there were
about forty-five persons.

When we were starting, Mami-de-Yong approached to "snap fingers,"
and put in my hands a verse of the Koran in his master's
handwriting,--"hospitality to the wearied stranger is the road to
heaven,"--which was to serve me as a passport among all good
Mahometans. If I had time, no doubt I would have thought how much
more Christian this document was than the formal paper with which
we are fortified by "foreign offices" and "state departments," when
we go abroad from civilized lands;--but, before I could summon so
much sentiment, the Fullah chief stooped to th