We were up at daybreak on the following morning, and proceeded in a body to the river side, where we found the ferryman whipping the sprung handle of his paddle with a thong of sheepskin. Our household furniture had now increased to a grass mat and a wicker bag, in which the provisions were stored, and while Aminé was getting into the canoe with these, I laid my hand on the head of each of my friends in succession, and bestowed on them my solemn benediction. Then I stepped into the canoe and, as the ferryman had now completed the repairs on his paddle, we pushed off amidst a chorus of good wishes from our friends upon the bank. CHAPTER XX. I JOIN A PARTY OF BOHEMIANS. On the opposite side of the river we found a broad, well-worn track, along which we took our way at a brisk pace, in a very different frame of mind from that which we had experienced before we met Isaaku and his people. Indeed, it amused me to note what a difference was made in our condition by a few poor rags of clothing. No longer did we sneak stealthily along the path, hiding ourselves from casual wayfarers, but strode forward boldly, entering the villages with confidence, and exchanging cheerful salutations with all whom we met on the road. And it was well that our affairs were in this improved condition, for we were now on the main road from Bori to Bontúku; and not only were the travellers numerous, but villages and hamlets occurred at pretty frequent intervals. We trudged on steadily for a couple of hours, meeting small parties of travellers--mostly travelling Wongáras--and passing through two or three villages, until we came to a small stream with the usual fringe of shady woodland; and here Aminé proposed that we should halt and breakfast. “I know not why we should push on so fast,” said she, “seeing that one place is as good for us as another,” and she sat down on a moss-covered bank and began to rummage in the provision bag. “Is it true that thou lookest for friends in Bontúku?” she asked presently, as she pulled a leg off a spare and ascetic-looking fowl. “I look for friends everywhere,” I replied with a grin. “Perhaps we may meet thy father there”--for she had told me that she had been kidnapped while accompanying her father on a journey to Kong. “There is little fear of that,” she rejoined. “He will have gone back to his country long since.” “Little fear!” I exclaimed. “Dost thou not wish to meet thy father then?” “Not I,” she answered, “for if we should meet him he would take me back, and since thou hast not the wherewith to pay my dowry, he would perhaps give me to some other man.” As the conversation appeared to be drifting into an undesirable channel I changed the subject. “What hast thou in that little bag that is hanging round thy neck?” I asked.