194 THE EXPLORATION OF THE NIGER In the evening we reached Bentia, the Biting of Barth, where we halted for the night.

We pushed on early the next day to Fafa, arriving there about seven o'clock in the morning. Here the stream is divided into two arms by an island on which a village is hidden, with an approach presenting anything but a reassuring appearance. But we had other things to see to before exploring it.

Directly we anchored a Tuareg came to accost us. He turned out to be an envoy from Djamarata, the nephew of Madidu, who he said was at the village, specially accredited by that chief to complete the negotiations begun with us at Gao, and to give me the letter I had asked for.

The village of Fafa is occupied by Peuls or Fulahs, who, like all the rest of the sedentary races whom we met with who are face to face with the Tuaregs, were in a state of abject fear, wondering what would happen between the white visitors and the dreaded Arabs, both of superior race in the eyes of the negroes. Would they quarrel with each other ? Would they come to blows ? Not wishing to play the part of the iron between hammer and anvil, they were full of anxiety and trouble.

The old fellow who had come out as envoy climbed on to the Davoust. He did not wish me to land, Djamarata must come on board. As for him, he meant to stop where he was. Fortunately my Songhay from Idris were not quite such cowards, and they tried to reassure the poor old man, but when he still seemed terrified they gave him a good scolding. Djamarata was seated, meanwhile, some hundred yards from the river bank, surrounded by about a dozen Tuaregs. The brother of Idris finally took me by the arm, and we went together towards him. We saluted each other, we shook hands, neither of us looking in the least inclined to eat the other. But this peaceable greeting