I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I
opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which
burnt so.
"Get up," she said. "We must go on."
"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith.
It is noon."
"We must go on," she repeated.
Then I saw that she was delirious.
She was standing erect. Her haik had fallen to the ground and little
Galé, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it.
Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating: "We must go on."
A little sense came back to me.
"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head."
"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gâo is over there, not far away. I
can feel it. I want to see Gâo again."
I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that
all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me,
brought back my senses.
"Gâo is just over there, isn't it?" she asked.
Her gleaming eyes became imploring.
"Yes, dear little girl. Gâo is there. But for God's sake lie down. The
sun is fearful."
"Oh, Gâo, Gâo!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gâo
again."
She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine.
"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see
Gâo again."
"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet."
"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where
there is water, at Gâo, where my father was a prince, there was....
Well, one day, one feast day, there came from the interior of the
country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask
and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag.
On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he
danced the boussadilla. I was in the first row, and because I had a
necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of
a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire
over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce
Kountas, of everything, and finally he said: "'Have no fear, little girl.' "Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gâo gleaming on the horizon, no longer a servile Gâo reduced to the rank of a
little Negro town, but the splendid Gâo of other days, the great
capital of the country of the blacks, Gâo reborn, with its mosque of
seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with
cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with
great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of
deliverance and of royalty.'"