Thereafter came orders to undertake an expedition to Timbuctoo. The mysterious city had been entered, just before, by Commandant Boiteaux, who had gone up the river Niger in a flotilla of boats as far as Cabara and there gained the city on foot. It was resolved to extend the French dominion over it and over the loop of the river as it sweeps downward to its ocean outlet. Joffre’s duty was to support his superior, Colonel Bonnier, who had given him a rendezvous outside the city’s walls. The Colonel was to go by river; Joffre followed the left bank with a force of one thousand, three parts of which were bearers and servants. He started from Segou, two days after Christmas 1893. The rendezvous never took place. The Colonel having made quicker progress, turned back to meet the Commandant, but failed to arrive; the column was assassinated. Only one white officer, Captain Nigotte, escaped to tell the tale in Timbuctoo, where fears were expressed for Joffre’s safety. But the latter had acted with great vigour and yet caution in his dealings with the natives. He went quickly to the rescue of the few survivors of the column, chastised the murderers, and then, on February 12, entered the city without further fighting, carrying with him the bodies of the white officers. At the moment when the news reached him, he was engaged in crossing the river, in face of a hostile band of Tuaregs, who had burned his boats at the habitual crossing-place. More than 500 miles separated Segou from Timbuctoo, and the journey had been beset with peril and difficulty, how difficult and how perilous is admirably told in Joffre’s own report of the expedition. He showed good generalship by keeping his men in close order and by throwing out scouts to protect his flanks and rear. At night a careful watch was set over the camp, and the young Commander went the rounds to see that his black sentinels did not sleep at their posts. Water was a great difficulty, for there was either too much of it or not enough. Great flooded areas, where the river had overflowed, left swamps which could only be passed by circuitous marches in an unknown country. By contrast there was a stark and staring need of wells in a burning desert, where bearers dropped by the way for want of the precious liquid, and communications were endangered because posts left in the rear could not obtain the necessary water. In consequence, the young Commander had to scatter his column through the villages, where existed a species of boycott, for the natives had fled before the advance and had carried off all foodstuffs. Joffre kept a stout heart and a cool head in these trying circumstances. There was a good deal of fighting, especially in the later stages, but Joffre took the offensive, as the safer way, and did not allow himself to be attacked by the enemy. He fought to clear a path for his column.