Chapter 4 CHAPTER IV THE FIRST COMMUNICATION OF THE FRENCH EXPANSION

On January 1, readers of "French Expansion" read with great interest Ameijie.A newsletter from Floras: Balsac Expedition Team (1) special correspondent december 1st in the jungle As I reported to you in my last letter, the Barsac expedition will start at six o'clock this morning.Everything was ready, and two more volunteers were added to the expedition team.One of the volunteers was a beautiful young woman.She is French, educated in England, so she speaks with a rather melodious English accent.Her name is Jana.Morna.The other, if not her nephew, is her uncle. I haven't figured out the family relationship between them.His name is Arenor.De.Sun Berlin.He was a queer man whose insouciance in Conakry seemed almost mythical.May he bring us many pleasant moments in our journey ahead.

Morna and De.Samblin travels out, just out of curiosity.They had two black servants, old Senegalese foot soldiers, who also acted as guides and interpreters.Although our volunteers themselves are fluent in Bamba and several other African languages. In this way, at half past five in the morning on December 1st, we assembled in the square next to the Governor's Palace in Conakry. A little sane consideration comes to mind: there should be an armed force escorting the expedition.Considering this necessity, Barsac invited Captain Marthare and his two hundred cavalry to serve as our guard. At about six o'clock, the baggage and luggage were lined up in a column under the guidance of a black man.This negro, who had traveled several times between Conakry and Sikasso, was our guide, and his name was Moriler.He was a stocky lad of about thirty, in shorts and an old-fashioned colonial infantry jacket with ragged and dirty gold and silver trim.He was barefoot, but on his head he wore a white linen helmet with three-coloured tassels hanging majestically from both sides.

Our train consisted of fifty donkeys, twenty-five drivers, and fifty porters; ten of them were hired by Morna.On both sides of the baggage train was Captain Marthare's cavalry. At six o'clock, the departure signal sounded.The house of the Governor General hoisted the tricolor flag.Walton greets us one last time from his balcony.The drums and horns of the colonial army stationed in Conakry also sounded, and at this solemn moment we all took off our hats. The sun has risen, and the dawn is cheerfully illuminating our path. After crossing a bridge connecting Conakry and the African continent, a five- to six-meter-wide flat road stretches ahead, leading to Jimpo, 400 kilometers away.That is to say, we will have no major difficulties during this journey.The weather was fine, the temperature in the shade was around 17 degrees Celsius.We also don't have to worry about getting into a tropical storm because the rainy season is over.

go ahead!Towards the most beautiful place in this wonderful world! At about ten o'clock, the heat was so intense that Captain Martharay ordered a rest.We're twenty kilometers out of Conakry, which is good.We stopped at five o'clock in the afternoon to have a meal, rested for a while, and then continued to move forward. At ten o'clock in the evening, we started camping for the night. This will probably be the case every day, so instead of keeping a running account, lest the reader be bored with the trifles of the journey, I intend to record only the interesting facts in this travel diary.

Morriller took care of our meals.With the help of Miss Morna's two servants, Chumgeng and Donggale, he cooked for us.Because we have agreed to save as much as possible the canned food and other food brought from Europe, in case we go hungry when fresh food is not available. The first meal was quite substantial.The food was lamb porridge, figs, bananas, coconuts, and corn shortbread, and the water was cool from the roadside springs and, if you were addicted, toddy. In the evening, we set up tents in a jungle and prepared to camp.The place wasn't completely deserted either.On the right side of the road, there is an abandoned earthen house, and there is another one on the left, which seems to be inhabited by people.

Miss Morena was tidying up a tent when Morrill reported that a black girl wanted her to live in a clean house.The girl was a negro yeoman's slave, and the master was away.It is said that there are incredible things authentic European sofas. Mademoiselle Morena accepted this friendly invitation, and we happily sent her to her new home. The slave girl, a girl of about fifteen years old, saw us and came up to us. We were amazed that she spoke very fluent French. I went to a school run by the French, she introduced herself to Morna, and she was a servant to a white officer's wife.Once during a war, I was taken as a prisoner and sold here.I'll make my bed like white people and you'll be fine.

She took Mademoiselle Morena affectionately by the hand, and led her into the room.We see our female companions settle down comfortably, and return to their lodgings with satisfaction.Yet neither she nor we fell asleep right away. Not half an hour later, Miss Morna was calling for help from us over there.We ran over immediately, and under the light of the torches, we saw an unexpected scene: the little slave girl was lying on the threshold of the earthen house with her limbs stretched out, with bloody scars all over her back, the poor girl was crying in despair .Miss Morna stood in front of her, protecting her with her own body.Beside him stood a black man menacingly, holding a wooden stick in his hand.

"I don't think so," said Mademoiselle Morena to us, "I just lay down in bed, Mary, it's a very nice name for this little girl, isn't it?Fanning me, I started to fall asleep.Suddenly the beast, her master, came back from outside.As soon as he saw me, he went into a rage, and he dragged the poor child out of bed and beat her, saying he was going to teach her a lesson, to see if she dared bring white people into the house again. What a custom!Baudrier made a remark. He spoke very humorously, and there was nothing to blame. However, he took pleasure in other people's misfortune, took advantage of the topic, and said the following, which was wrong. He said: "Look, gentlemen, this is what those barbarian peoples do." True colors, and you are turning them into peaceful voters!

It looked like he was imagining himself delivering a speech from a podium. Startled, as if stung by a bee, Balsac puffed up his chest and replied coldly: Say these words to those who have never seen a Frenchman beat a woman! Balsac is right! It looks like another big debate is going to take place before us.Fortunately, that didn't happen, because Baudrier was silent.So Balsac turned to the Negro with the club. The little one is going to leave you, he said, let's take her. The Negro objected, saying it was his slave. I'll buy your slave, said Balsac, for how much? You are right, Monsieur Barsac!What a great idea!

The Negro reckoned he could make a good deal, so he fell silent.The price he offered was an ass, a gun, and fifty francs. Give you fifty sticks!Captain Martharay broke in and replied, You deserve a beating! So, start bargaining.At last the trickster agreed to exchange his slave girl for a musket, a piece of cloth, and twenty-five francs. At the same time, Miss Morena lifted the little girl from the ground and bandaged her wound.After the deal was made, she took her to our campsite, put a white short-sleeved shirt on her, put a few dollars into her hand, and said: You are no longer a slave, you are free!

But Mary burst into tears.As she was an orphan, had nowhere to go, and would not leave such a fine white lady, she asked to be a maid for Morna. Keep her, child!She'll be useful to you, said Sunberling, with a lady by your side, and she'll be of service to you in many things in the future. Mademoiselle Morena readily agreed, she also had the idea.At this time, she no longer intends to live with the local natives.We pitched a tent for her, and everyone went to sleep. This is what happened on the first day of our trip. Amijay.Floras