We went to see him the next day, and passed the morning at Sorba. We were very well received by Yusuf Osman. Don’t tell him that I have revealed his name to the public, for amongst the Kurteyes it is very bad form to call any one by his name. I have noticed that there is a similar superstition in the Bambara districts of the Upper Niger. Yusuf is a big, good-looking fellow of about forty years of age, who has recently succeeded his father as chief. When we arrived he was suffering from some affection of the eyes. Taburet prescribed for and cured him, thus contributing to establishing us in his good graces. The former chief of Sorba had been a great friend of Amadu, and had given him canoes for crossing the river. If therefore the Toucouleurs had succeeded in establishing their authority in the districts torn from the Djermas of Karma and Dunga, it was in some measure due to him. Yusuf, however, did not disguise that he was becoming rather uneasy about the future, and as far as was possible without compromising himself he had tried to be useful to us. If ever we succeed, as I hope we shall, in driving Amadu from the neighbourhood of Say, we shall certainly find auxiliaries in the Kurteyes. Yusuf gave us as a guide to take us to Say, a man named Hugo, chief of his own slaves, a capital fellow, and an excellent pilot. Needless to add that we all at once dubbed him Victor in honour of the great French author. Relieved on the point about which I had been so anxious, the securing of a guide to take us to Say, we went down to the village of Kutukole, and anchored near it for the night, the river between it and Sarbo being quite easy to navigate. On the 3rd we passed Karma, and were now amongst the Toucouleurs. On every side our approach was announced by the lighting of fires, and the beating of the _tabala_ or war-drum. A group of horsemen followed us along the bank, watching us closely, but now the stream was quite quiet, only one more rapid, that of Bobo, had to be crossed, and that we left behind us the same evening. All we had to do was to steer carefully clear of the few rocks which still impeded the course of the river. Bobo, opposite to which we passed the night, is, like Karma, under the direct authority of Ali Buri, that venerable Wolof chieftain, who, driven out of Cayor by the French, went to seek an asylum at Nioro near Amadu, whose fortunes he followed. Captain Toutée was mistaken in thinking that Ali Buri had been killed in the attack on his expedition at Kompa. He was still alive, unfortunately for us, and we were told was now in the Sorgoé district near the country of the Kel Gheres, where he busied himself in winning partisans for Amadu.