Our coolies told us that the crocodiles lay their eggs at this time of the year, when it always rains and blows hard. On this account we were obliged to remain anchored opposite Desa all the morning. We started at two o’clock in the afternoon. What a river we had to pass down! Before we arrived at the anchorage, where we remained for the night, we had to go through a pass not much more than five yards wide. The people of Desa, we were told by the natives above Gao, are Kurteyes of a very fierce and inhospitable disposition, and, truth to tell, their first reception of us was anything but cordial. “What had we come to their village for?” they asked. “Why had we not stopped at a bigger one?” By dint of the exercise of much patience, and the use of many soothing arguments, we gradually succeeded in appeasing them. They gave us an original version of the fight which had taken place with Captain Toutée the year before. It was not, according to them, with the Tuaregs that he had fought, but with the people of Sinder. All the negroes of the riveraine districts of the Niger wear the same kind of costume, including the veil, and use the same kind of weapons as the Tuaregs, which explains the mistake. The Tuaregs had been awaiting the expedition at Satoni, intending to attack it, but it had made a _détour_ and avoided them. The Wagobés of Sinder by order of Bokar Wandieïdu, and also because a sentinel had by accident killed a nephew of the chief of the village, attacked the canoes of the Toutée expedition, attributing what they thought was a retreat to fear. Fifty natives were killed, and the memory of their fate was still fresh. About noon the next day we were opposite Satoni, and we anchored the same evening near the right bank, where we could make out some lofty dunes on which were perched three villages and a Tuareg encampment. I had a presentiment that we had now reached a critical and most perilous moment of our expedition. All the defiance we had recently met with, and the unwillingness to help us was of bad augury, and we were, as a matter of fact, _entirely at the mercy of the natives_. Higher up stream, when the Kel es Suk and the Tademeket wanted to bar the road against us, the river was free from obstacles, and they were quite unable to stop us. We could afford to laugh at their futile efforts. Below Ansongo, too, though the difficulties of navigation were considerable, we could to some extent count upon the goodwill of the people, who would, if they were not particularly ready to serve us, at least remain neutral. Now, alas! I felt that at any moment the smouldering powder might explode, for at our approach the women and children hid themselves. To get guides I had to use every possible means: caresses, presents, even threats, for without guides we should be utterly lost.