Since we had passed through the Igwadaren districts, the character of our guide had undergone a complete transformation, which was anything but an improvement. I knew he had had a letter from Timbuktu, but I did not know what was in it. I do know, however, that the silly fellow is a great fool, and very jealous about his wife. “She is such a beautiful woman,” he informed us one day, “and so beautifully dressed. She carries the value of at least four bars of salt on her back.” Is he afraid of the fate of the husband described by Molière? Is his fear real or feigned? Anyhow he is, or pretends to be, a constant prey to the greatest terrors. He who, till we reached Kardieba, was always so gay and so bold, ready to carry out every enterprise I entrusted to him, he, who had always expressed such immovable confidence in the success of all our schemes of alliance with the Awellimiden, could now only dwell on the melancholy fate which awaited him and us: we should be murdered, he too of course, and he should never see his dear wife again who has the value of four bars of salt on her back, etc. I had tried by kindness and by scolding to restore his moral tone, but it was no good, and feeling how foolish it would be to place confidence in such a coward, who was quite ready to deceive us if he could thus prevent us from going further, I gave him the permission he asked for, seasoning my compliance, however, with a few pretty severe remarks. This quieted him for a bit, but he very soon recommenced his jeremiads on the dangers he would incur on his way back to Timbuktu. To cut the matter short, however, I at last forbid him ever to mention the matter to me. There was, however, some truth in all that Sidi Hamet said. The natives we met grew more and more hostile. On the morning of the 27th we crossed the rocky pass known as Tinalschiden, and then Dongoe, where rumour said we were to be attacked. We were, in fact, followed on either bank by troops of mounted Tuaregs, some thirty altogether, I should say, but this was not a very formidable force, and after all they abstained from any hostile manifestation. The wind compelled us to halt for a few minutes opposite Dongoe on the left bank, and a horseman rode forward and hailed the _Davoust_. I exchanged greetings with him, a necessary prelude to every conversation, even if that conversation is to lead to a quarrel. I asked him to give me the news of the country, and he told me I should get them at Tosaye from Sala Uld Kara.