200 JOURNEY WITHOUT MAPS

the day; the men had their chop in the end, and
the chief began to get sleepy and forgot that he was
supposed to detain us. I don't really know why we
ever went; the schoolmaster was the only blot on the
place; I think we might have been very happy there
all night. Perhaps if I hadn't been a bit drunk Fd
have stayed, but the idea I thought I had lost, that
one ought to stick to time-tables, came up again in
the Parisian air, and I was a little uneasy, too, lest the
schoolmaster should have sent a quick messenger to
the French Commissioner and tha.t we might find
ourselves under arrest—the French colonies are very
carefully preserved. So I refused to stay. Before we
went I photographed the girl, but she wouldn't be
taken as she was, insisted on putting on her best dress
for the picture: the chief would not be photographed.
By that time two men had to support him. He fol-
lowed us a little way out of the village, sleepily im-
ploring us to stay, until we were out of ear-shot.

It was another four hours' march to Ganta. Soon
after Djiecke we left the forest behind and took a
path through elephant grass towards the River Mani
or St. John, which forms the boundary line between
French Guinea and Liberia and runs south-west into
the sea at Grand Bassa, a hundred and sixty miles
away. That was where we were to end our march,
though I didn't know it then. We were now at last
off the route followed by other English travellers, for
Sir Alfred Sharpe in 1919 went up northwards into
French Guinea, another ninety miles or so, and then
retraced his steps and went down to Monrovia
between the Loffa River and the St. Paul.

JThe Mani here was about forty yards wide with