The following morning, the men, both free and slaves, of the village to which the unfortunate woman belonged, came to our camp, to the number of sixty or seventy, all armed, and in a very haughty manner demanded justice, which one of them, an old man, who appeared to be their speaker, said was nothing more than handing over the prisoner to them, to be treated as they might think fit; as in this case, the law said, “when one slave,” in which light they looked upon all my men, both black and white, “killed another, the survivor became the property of the person to whom the deceased belonged, who might either kill, sell, or keep him.” I had much difficulty in persuading them that all my men were as free as myself, and that I could not now take any step, until I had received an answer from Almamy, to whom I had sent a messenger. Osman, who had heard of their arrival, came up at that moment, and finding them much inclined to add violence to insolent language, ordered them, in a very peremptory tone, to return to their village, and leave the settlement of the affair exclusively to him, who alone, from its having happened in his district and with his strangers (meaning us), had the right of interfering. Although they went away immediately, I was sorry to see them do so with so much reluctance, and with such evident dissatisfaction at the unfortunate affair, as well as at the indifferent reception they met with. I therefore requested Osman to accompany them for a short distance, and endeavour to convince them that it was my wish to render every satisfaction the laws of the country demanded, and make the owner of the deceased as ample recompense as it was in my power to do. In a few minutes, the old man, who acted as their speaker, returned with Osman, and coming into my hut, offered me his hand, which I accepted, and sat down, telling me that he was perfectly satisfied with my conduct in this affair, and would wait patiently and peaceably for Almamy’s decision; and to convince me of the truth of what he asserted, he would send the women of his village to the market as usual to-morrow. The messenger to Almamy did not return before the evening of the 28th, when he was accompanied by one of his ministers, a chief priest, or, as they call it, _Alpha or thierno_, bringing his sovereign’s decision, which, although conveyed in many more words than necessary, merely went to say, as it appeared to Almamy and his good men[14], as they call his chiefs and ministers (a very ill-placed appellation), that the woman came by her death accidentally, I had nothing more to do than procure a slave woman of as nearly the same age of the deceased as possible, and hand her over to Osman. Almamy also desired Alpha Mamadoo to say, that he was extremely sorry I should have thought it necessary to put my child, meaning Shaw (for so he always called all my men) in prison, from whence he now desired him to be released.