Then the huts, already overcrowded, are invaded by the spahis, who step into calebashes and upset the kouss-kouss. Some kiss the little girls; others peep out-of-doors, like big children, for the pleasure of getting wet and of feeling the rain from heaven trickling down upon their heated, harum-scarum heads. The horses, tethered haphazard, are neighing, pawing the ground, kicking out in terror. Dogs, goats, sheep, all the cattle of the village, are huddled against the doors, yelping, bleating, leaping, thrusting with heads or horns to force an entry—all demanding their share of protection and shelter. There is a discordant uproar—a mingling of shouts, bursts of laughter from the negresses, the whistling of the storm wind, and the thunder drowning all other sounds with its mighty artillery. Wild confusion prevails beneath the black sky—darkness at midday, pierced by sudden flashes of green lightning; rain in torrents, the deluge pouring down at its pleasure, trickling in through all the chinks in the dried up thatch—here and there administering an unexpected shower-bath to the back of a curled-up cat, or to a startled chicken, or a spahi’s head. * * * * * When the tornado was over, and order re-established, the spahis took the road again, marching along flooded paths. Across the sky flitted the last little curious wisps of cloud, like little parcels of rags and scraps of brown cloth, torn and twisted like curl papers. Strong, unwonted odours rose from the parched earth, at its contact with these first drops of water. Nature was preparing for new births. XXVII Fatou-gaye had posted herself since morning at the entrance to St Louis, so that she might not miss the arrival of the column. When she saw Jean pass by, she welcomed him with a discreet _kéou_, accompanied by a very correct little bow. She did not wish to embarrass him further while he was in the ranks, and she had the good taste to wait two long hours before she came to pay her respects to him in barracks. Fatou had changed greatly. In three months she had grown and developed a swift maturity like the plants of her native country. She no longer asked for coppers. She had actually a certain graceful timidity, proper to a young girl. A bou-bou of white muslin now covered her rounded breasts, as is the custom with young girls who have come to marriageable age. A strong scent of musk and soumaré hung about her. Her head no longer displayed its five stiff little tails. She was letting her hair grow, and would presently put herself into the skilful hands of the hairdressers, who would pile up her locks into the complicated erection which is proper to the head of an African woman. At present her hair was still too short, and it stood out in a dishevelled woolly mass, which gave an entirely new character to her face. Formerly pleasing but comical, it had now become attractive and quaint, almost charming.