within it.  Many years afterwards, dining at Washington with that agreeable man, Charles Sumner, the great abolitionist, and some very charming ladies, I amused myself by telling him about my Bathurst dinner, and asked him whether he had ever given his arm to a negress.  I awaited his answer with some curiosity, to see whether he would dare answer in the affirmative before the American ladies, who are so sensitive on the colour question, but he got out of it very adroitly.  “My dear Prince,” said he, “in every religion each man has his own share of work.  I preach and you practise.  Don’t let us mix the two things up together.”

As we were steaming out of the Gambia I saw the commander of the Galibi on his bridge, in a state of violent excitement, with all his crew mustered before him, and appealing in the most vehement manner to his capitaine de riviere (river captain), the title borne by the chief of the negro crew.  I joined him, and he said, “I’ve just been mustering the men.  I can’t recollect all the fellows’ names, so I count heads.  I’ve done it over again four or five times, and there is always one man too many.”  And then he began to yell again, “Capitaine de riviere!  What’s the meaning of this?  There’s a man too many!” The capitaine de riviere, who had stationed himself well forward, pretended not to hear, but, driven at last from his refuge, he came aft, pulling off his bell-crowned hat, the distinctive sign of his authority, and, uncovering his shock of gray hair, like a woollen travelling cap, murmured in his gentlest tones, “Please, sir, he’s a little present I was given at Bathurst!”

We were soon in the Cazamanze, after having very nearly been lost on the sandbanks obstructing the entrance to the river, on which the sea breaks furiously.  The river is a fine one, wide and deep.  I steamed up it for about a hundred miles.  After the few villages near the mouth we came to a desert country, covered with impenetrable forest and jungle.  We steamed along between two walls of green, and our only excitement as we went was to watch the numerous hippopotami, who seemed very much put out by the passing of the Galibi.  As we neared our station at Sedhiou, which I was going to inspect, we noticed several villages, the inhabitants of which greeted us with yells.  The jungle had been cleared around the houses, over which the great trees stood like huge parasols.  So gigantic was the growth, that sometimes a whole village was sheltered by one and the same tree.  The post of Sedhiou—­a brick-built fort, with a little bastion armed with a gun at each corner—­is placed at a point of great importance on the caravan line from the interior.  I was received by an infantry captain, M. Dallin, who had done the most excellent service there, but ruined his health, and by two white soldiers, both wasted by fever.  The rest of the garrison consisted of black soldiers, splendid fellows, brave and faithful, and excellent workmen, who had done, and were still doing, all the work on the station.