But where was the _Aube_? That was our care now. She was approaching rapidly, borne on by the current, but the whole pass was blocked before her. She would crash into the _Dantec_, and both vessels must inevitably be wrecked. But no! Clouds of spray dash up over bow and stern alike; Baudry has flung out the anchor and the grappling-iron: oh that they may grip properly! Thank God! They have. The _Aube_ stops short some three hundred yards at least from the _Dantec_ at the brink of the rapid. But what in the world is up now? The _Aube_ is tilted at an angle of some 45 degrees! The force of the current is such that it has taken her in the rear and forced her into this extraordinary position, whilst the grappling-chains and those of the anchor are strained to the uttermost, producing the terrifying result described. I now moored the _Davoust_ to the bank, for we must try to save our other boats. With regard to the _Dantec_ it was a simple affair enough, for she is a wonderful little craft, answering readily to the helm, and so buoyant that we got off with no worse damage than the bursting asunder of a couple of planks of her bottom. I sent Digui to help the men on board of her, and she got safely through. The rescue of the _Aube_ was a more difficult matter, especially as her rudder had got broken in the struggle. The anchor was raised all right, but when it came to the grappling-iron we could not make it budge; it had probably got jammed between two rocks, and all our efforts to move it were in vain, indeed they only seemed to fix it more firmly. Driven on by the wind and whirled round by the strong eddies of the current, the unfortunate barge began to describe semicircles round her own grappling-iron. Of course when we once cut the chain there would be no time to steer her, and we must therefore manage to divide it exactly at the moment when she was opposite to the opening she had to pass through. One second too soon or too late and she would be lost. I had climbed to the top of a little ridge, and with fast beating heart I watched Baudry making his dispositions for the manœuvre he had to attempt. A Tuareg chose this moment of awful suspense to tap me on the shoulder and greet me with the formal salutation, _Salam radicum mahindia_, and you can imagine how much notice I took of him. Without being at all put out by my silence, however, he went on— “I see that you are in trouble. I have watched all that has been going on from my camp behind the hills, and ever since early morning I have felt sure that you were all lost. But God has saved you and your people. I have forbidden my tribe to come and bother you, for you know that we always beg of every one. Well, I am going now, but if you have need of us, Tuaregs and negroes alike are ready to help you, you have only to send me a messenger. Our Amenokal has ordered us to meet your wishes.”