Niger

women. Mungo had no cowries, nothing to pay in
the country’s currency for his passage to Mansong’s
town apart from a few surviving buttons.
He sat down to await his turn in the great flat-
bottomed canoes. They were so large that even
horses were being ferried across. In the sun-
shimmer the walls of south-bank Sego glimmered
white. The crowds around Mungo had every
appearance of prosperity, and far as the eye could
see beyond the town-walls lay fertile and cultivated
fields. No wild and deserted river-stretch, but a
prosperous and civilised countryside in which he
came upon the Niger. He was greatly cheered, in
spite of the sun-glare.
But meantime news had been carried to Mansong
that a white man, that unicorn of the African
interior, was waiting on the north bank and was
coming to see him. Mansong received the news
uneasily. The mullahs probably dictated the
message he sent across the ferry : Mungo must not
cross until he obtained permission.
What was he to do then ? Mungo enquired. The
messenger scratched his head. Spend the night at
that village along the bank, he advised. In the
morning he would come back with further instruc¬
tions.
Dispirited, Mungo turned his weary horse in the
direction indicated. The shimmering Niger lost
something of its brightness.
The villagers would have none of him, regarding
him with fear and repulsion. Foodless, and without
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