And this was the end of all the three sturdy barks: _Davoust_, _Aube_, and _Dantec_, which for twelve whole months were all the world to us! The _Dantec_ had often seemed likely never to get to the end of her journey; the _Aube_ certainly ought not to have arrived, judging by the two or three occasions on which she had seemed done for; at the end of the voyage you could put your fingers through her rotten planking. If she had run aground but once more, or if she had got another blow in passing the last rapid, all would have been over with her worm-eaten keel, and also with her crew. The _Davoust_ too had received many wounds, and what was more serious still, oxidation was beginning to work havoc in her sections. Ten times at least, face to face with some specially bad rapids, I had made up my mind to lose one of the three, if not all; but, as the English said, they were gallant ships. Bravely, in spite of rapids, whirlpools, and rocks, they had made for the appointed goal, the mouth of the river, bringing there without faltering the whole expedition: we white men, the coolies, all our goods, and the French flag! No doubt it was Aube, Dantec, and Davoust, their sponsors, our comrades, who had died at the task of the conquest of the Niger, who had brought good luck to our three boats. Thanks to them, I had kept my oath of 1888. It was not therefore without emotion, without a sadness which may have been childish, but which many will understand, that we parted finally with the companions of so many dangers. Have not boats souls? Sailors love them like old friends, like heirlooms. We must attach ourselves affectionately to something in this life, must we not? The _Axim_ took us to Forcados; the _Forcados_ to Lago; the _Olinda_, chartered specially for us, to Porto Novo. On November 1, at five o’clock in the morning, there was great excitement at the house of the officers of Porto Novo. Some people had suddenly arrived, and were banging against the shutters. The door was soon half-opened and a voice inquired, “Who are you?”—“Hourst!”—“Where do you come from?”—“Timbuktu”— and the next moment, without any further questioning, we all fell into each other’s arms. After all I experienced in Dahomey and in the Senegal, I will not dwell too much on the goodness the Governor-General, M. Chaudié, showed to us on our return, on the kindness he lavished upon every member of the expedition, or on the reception our friends of St. Louis gave us later, but I can never thank any of them enough. We dismissed our coolies at St. Louis, thus effecting an immense economy. Abdulaye, the carpenter, at once changed his costume for that of a private citizen. A soft hat, a frock-coat, and a cane with a silver handle, converted the chrysalis into a butterfly; at the same time our old servant began to make up for his long months of sobriety and abstinence. It was, in fact, impossible to find him even to give him an extra tip.