“My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives against the Tuareg were welcome:  that it was not from evil design, but for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the resources of Gao, including the forge, at the disposition of the French chief, for repairing the gunboat.

“While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked at him.  He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear.

“‘Come here, little one,’ he said in his gentle voice.

“‘I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,’ I replied, vexed at his informality.

“‘You are right,’ he answered smiling, ’for you are pretty.  Will you give me the flowers that you have around your neck?’

“It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus.  I held it out to him.  He kissed me.  The peace was made.

“Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the river.

“‘There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,’ said the chief mechanic, after inspecting the leaks.  ’We won’t be able to get away before the day after to-morrow.  And, if we’re to do that, these lazy soldiers mustn’t loaf on the job.’

“‘What an awful bore,’ groaned my new friend.

“But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little companions and I seek to distract him.  He listened to our most beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that had been brought from the boat for his dinner.  He slept in our great cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples on the surface of the dark waves.

“That night, I had a frightful dream.  I saw my friend, the French officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his head:  ’Caw,—­caw—­the shade of the gum trees of Gao—­caw, caw—­will avail nothing tomorrow night—­caw, caw—­to the white chief nor to his escort.’

“Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers.  They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing.

“I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority: 

’Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night.  He told me that the shade of the gum trees of Gao would be fatal to your chief in the coming night!...’

“And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added: 

“‘And to his escort!’

“It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic entered.