There exists a perfect mania in Africa for so-called treaties, a mania which would be harmless enough if it did not give an altogether false idea of colonial questions to French people, who are ignorant of the true conditions of the countries to which they refer. These treaties, in fact, very often prove bones of contention and litigation between different European powers, and thus attain an importance which but for this would be altogether wanting. In the partition of Africa European governments began by imagining a kind of rule of the game, which consisted in giving to so-called treaties with native chiefs a certain fictitious value. We fell in with this idea, and it would be difficult now to go back to the old belief, that in a game of chance the ace is more powerful than the king. To follow the fashion therefore when we appear on the boards before international conferences, we have to be provided with plenty of trumps, and to produce treaties with people, shady folk enough sometimes, whom we dub for the nonce kings or princes. Our treaties are as valid as those made by Germans, Spaniards, or Italians, and all of them added together, if truth and good faith were considered, would amount simply to zero, as I shall presently have occasion to prove. [Illustration: TRADERS AT RHERGO.] But when there is no special reason for pretending to the contrary, what is the good of having such endless diplomatic rigmaroles and such long-winded treaties, of which one of the contracting parties does not understand a single solitary sentence? Imagine then my astonishment at seeing on the commercial treaty between Rhergo and Timbuktu, that the former place was bound to pay an annual tribute to the French! Now if any one is in authority at Rhergo it is Sakhaui, chief of the Igwadaren, and not the French,—I speak now of course of when we were passing through on our voyage down the Niger,—so that this promised tribute, which was never paid, never even demanded, was certainly not calculated to add to French prestige in these parts. [Illustration: SO-CALLED SHERIFFS OF RHERGO.] The people of Rhergo, who were worse than cunning, pleased us but little. They called themselves sheriffs, or descendants of Mahomet, but I think they would find it difficult to prove their parentage, for they have neither the beauty of feature nor the paleness of complexion characteristic of true Arabs. In the evening Sidi Hamet returned to us from his visit to the Igwadaren. He had been pretty well received by them, but when he told them of our imminent approach they took fright, and thinking that our party was a large and formidable one, they wanted to leave the banks of the river and take refuge in the interior. [Illustration: THE ‘DAVOUST’ AT ANCHOR OFF RHERGO.]