The whole mound bristled with tall posts of a grotesque appearance, bearing inscriptions in the language of the priests of Mahgreb. Bleached bones lay strewn pell-mell upon the ground, unearthed long ago by jackals. There were likewise a few sprays of greenery, lost, as it were, in the midst of absolute aridity. These were garlands of convolvulus, exquisitely fresh, opening here and there their large pink calyces, trailing among old skulls, old arm and leg bones. At intervals other funereal mounds of grim aspect rose above the level plain. Great flocks of pelicans, their white feathers tinged with pink, were stalking about the beaches. Seen in the distance through the evening mirage, their forms assumed weird and unnatural proportions.... Evening had come. The sun had sunk down into the ocean, and a cooler breeze had set in from the sea. Jean took out his mother’s letter and began to read it again.... * * * * * “Now, my son, a thought struck Peyral yesterday which has alarmed us. It is that you may not wish to come back again now, but to remain in Africa. “We are both very old. My good Jean, my dear son, your poor mother begs you on her knees not to let this prevent you from being sensible and from coming back to us soon, as we had expected. Otherwise I would rather die at once, and Peyral too.” * * * * * Then poor Jean felt his heart break—sobs rent his bosom, and his spirit of revolt dissolved in tears. IX Two days later all the warships required for the expedition were assembled to the north of St Louis, in the bend of the river near Pop-n’kior. The embarkation was carried out in the midst of a great throng of people and a tremendous hubbub. All the women and children of the black riflemen were massed on the banks, screaming to heaven, as if bereft of reason. Moors who had come by caravan from the interior of the Soudan stood round in circles looking on, with their camels, leather sacks, piles of miscellaneous baggage, and their pretty young wives. Towards three o’clock the whole flotilla, which was to proceed up the river as far as Dialdé in Galam, was groaning under its freight of men. It got under way in appalling heat. X St Louis was receding into the distance.... Its level outlines sank lower, fading away until they were mere bluish streaks upon the golden sand.... On either side of the river, stretching away until lost to sight, lay vast, unhealthy desert plains, everlastingly hot, everlastingly dreary.... And these tracts were but the approach to this great God-forsaken country—the vestibule of the immense solitudes of Africa.... Jean and the other spahis were embarked on the Falémé, which led the flotilla, and was presently a two days’ voyage ahead of the other vessels.