Niger

indifference, he had never thought of applying it to
the soldiers who perished of dysentery in such
numbers on the march. But perhaps he had
recognised the probability that not one of them
would survive administration of the cure.
Isaaco had been sent down the river with presents
for Mansong. He failed to return. Instead, there
came a cloud of rumours. He had deserted the
expedition. Mansong had killed him with his own
hands. Mungo, cool and composed, looked round
the neighbouring countryside for suitable wood for
canoe-building and exchanged a large part of his
money into Bambarran cowries. August went out
in these pursuits, and September came in. The
soldiers were still weak, shaking in recurrent
spasms of fever. One, Thomas Dyer, died on the
6th, and Mungo had to pay a thousand cowries
for the privilege of having him buried.
But on the 8th, Bookari, Mansong’s poet laureate,
arrived at Marraboo with six canoes and an invita¬
tion from Mansong for Mungo and his company
to descend to Sego. Mansong was in a genial
mood. He had liked Mungo’s presents : he felt
that all white men were admirable creatures, and
sent expansive offers of hospitality. Instead of
embarking the whites immediately, however,
Bookari insisted on displaying a sadly unpoetic
outlook on worldly matters, feasting and beer¬
drinking at Marraboo for another four days. But
at last he tore himself away from these flesh pots,
embarked the white men, and for four days paddled
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