Weary of the dispute, and seeing that I was quite decided not to return to the village, the messenger from the chief now left. Our old guide was in despair, for he had boasted so much to us of his influence over the chief of Bussa. “I must have become blind or stupid,” he said, “for he cannot really have been telling lies all the time.” I tried to persuade Amadu to accompany us at least, but he confessed that though it was true he had passed the rapids, it was twenty years ago. Still he did not like to refuse straight out. He would land now, and then he would see. Night had now fallen, and a quarter of an hour after our guide had left we heard loud cries and the noise of people running. We seized our weapons, but it was only old Amadu coming back out of breath. Four or five pieces of stuff which I had given him as payment had been stolen from him. Some men had fallen on him about half-way to the village. Seeing that they meant to take his life, or at least to deprive him of liberty, he had drawn his sword (it was only a bit of iron from an old cask), resolved to defend himself to the last. The Bussa bravos, five against one poor old man, had at first run away, and Amadu had profited by their alarm to take to his own legs. Then they ran after him again, but he managed to get safely back to us on board our boat without further adventures. These silly natives had thus secured us a guide on whom I had certainly not counted, for Amadu would not leave our boats now. I asked him if he wanted to go down as far as Leba, to which he replied “_Dolé_,” or needs must. For the whole night I pondered on the situation, whilst a continual watch was kept on board. My first idea was to bombard the village of Bussa at daybreak, and thus give its people a severe lesson. There really had been a flagrant and successful attack made on the person of a member of my expedition. Further reflection, however, brought me to a better mind, for, truth to tell, I did not know how matters stood with regard to the questions of delimitation between the French and the English. The latter claim Bussa in virtue of treaties made with the Royal Niger Company, but Commandant Toutée denies that these treaties are valid. Who is right? Who is wrong? I am sure I don’t know. The chief of Bussa acted towards me as if he were quite independent, and perhaps he is the one to speak the truth after all. If, however, the actual or implicit assertions of the English be true, it results that one of their _protégés_ had committed an aggression on one of our party, the odium and responsibility of which rests with them. Either they have effective power and real influence at Bussa, which would make them accomplices, or they have not, and in the latter case their assertions are lies. The dilemma appears to me to be one difficult to elude, and I leave to French diplomatists the task of deducting from it the practical consequences.