Hitherto the natives, whether Tuaregs or negroes, had helped us to the best of their ability. The orders of Madidu had been strictly obeyed, and no obstacles whatever had been thrown in our way. But at Kendadji all was changed. Our guides from Katungu had gone to the village, having begged us to let them go and palaver before we appeared, and we were kept waiting all day for the envoy of the chief to listen to reason, only to be told at last that the people were afraid of us, for a relation of ours (Captain Toutée) had killed ever so many at Sinder the year before. [Illustration: AN ISLAND BETWEEN AYURU AND KENDADJI.] I did my best to reassure the messenger, and he promised that the chief himself should come to see us the next day. He did in fact do so, and at last let us have some guides. Digui had gone to reconnoitre the rapids further down stream, and about noon he returned in a great state of agitation. “We must start at once,” he said, “there was just enough water to float our boats now, but the river was sinking rapidly, and in an hour it would perhaps be too late.” [Illustration: A ROCKY HILL NEAR KENDADJI.] What a passage it was! We pushed on, actually moored, so to speak, to an anchor and a grappling-iron, using first one and then the other, sometimes both according to circumstances. We kept on bumping against rocks, here, there, and everywhere, but fortunately we were going too fast to do the boats much harm. Then we had to fling ourselves into a perfect labyrinth of obstacles, striking against them again and again, but fortunately without making any fresh holes in our much-tried barks. Still more rocks ahead! _Quousque tandem!_ At about eleven o’clock on the 22nd we reached Tumaré. The chief at first refused to give us guides, but a liberal present won him over. Things seemed likely to be worse rather than better, for we had not gone more than four and a half miles during the whole of the 23rd. The river was now but a river in name; a mere maze of narrow channels between innumerable islets covered with fine trees and millet. The bed of these channels is encumbered with rocks, amongst which our barges had to follow a serpentine course for which they were little fitted. At two o’clock we reached the village of Desa, and the evening was wasted in a palaver without result. A feeling of sullen hostility against us was everywhere manifested, and the first question the natives asked was whether we were the same white men who had come the year before. At last, however, we succeeded in getting some guides who took us as far as Farca.