Nobody had tried to find out. Who, indeed, would dare to follow enemies believed to be endowed with supernatural powers, the fierce deities of the desert?

Such were the rumours which spread along the Niger, and as far as a hundred miles from its bank.

If, more daring than these timid Negroes, someone had ventured into the desert, and if this hero had reached, at the cost of a journey of over 150 miles, a point 1°40/ east and 15° 50' north, he would have reaped the reward of his courage. He would have seen something that nobody had ever seen before, neither the explorers nor the caravans: a city.

Yes, a town, a real town, which did not appear on any map, and of which nobody suspected the existence, although its total population, not counting children, was not less than 6,808.

If the hypothetical traveller had asked the name of the town, and if one of its inhabitants had been willing to tell him, he would perhaps have said in French "le nom de cette ville est Terre-noire": but he would be just as likely to reply in Italian "Questa citta di Terra Nera"; in Bambara, "Ni dougouba ntocko a be Bankou Fing"; in Portuguese, "Hista ciudad e Terranegra"; in Spanish, "Esta ciudad es Tierranegra." But no matter in what the language, all the answers would have meant: "The name of this city is Blackland."

The information might even be given in Latin: "Ista urbs Terra Nigra est." The enquirer would simply be dealing with Josias Eberly, a one-time professor who, having found in Blackland no use for his erudition, had opened a shop and become, as his sign somewhat unidiomatically indicated, "Josias Eberly, Druggist, Products for Dye."

Every language was spoken in this new Tower of Babel, whose population, when the Barsac Mission collapsed near Koubo, comprised, apart from 5,778 Negroes and Negresses, 1,030 whites. Though these had come from all parts of the world, most of them had one thing in common; escaped from the hulks or the prison, they were adventurers capable of anything except the right, outcasts ready for the worst jobs. However, just as in that motley crowd representatives of the English race predominated, so the English language took precedence. It was in English that the Chief published his proclamations and the local government, so far as there was a local government, its decrees; and the town's official journal was The Blackland Thunderbolt.

Very remarkable that journal, as can be judged from extracts from several issues:

"Today John Andrew hanged the Negro Koromoko, who had forgotten to bring him his after lunch pipe."

"Tomorrow evening, at six. ten heliplanes will set out for Kourkoussou and Bidi, with ten Merry Fellows commanded by Colonel Hiram Herbert. Total raid on these two villages, which we haven't visited for three years; return the same night."

"We have learned that a French Mission, directed by a Deputy called Barsac, is soon to set out from Konakry. This Mission had, it appears, the intention of reaching the Niger by way of Sikasso and Ouagha-dougou. We have taken precautions. Twenty of the Black Guard and two Merry Fellows will keep in touch with them continually. Captain Edward Rufus will join them at some convenient time. Rufus who, as we know, is a deserter from the Colonial Infantry, will play, under the name of Lacour, the role of a French lieutenant, and will take advantage of his command of that nation's military usages, so as to check, somehow or other, the said Barsac, making certain that he does not reach the Niger."

"Today on the Garden Bridge, as the result of a discussion, Counsellor Ehle Willis found himself under the necessity of putting some bullets into the head of Merry Fellow Constantin Bernard. The latter fell into the Red River, where, borne down by the abnormal weight of his skull, so recently filled with lead, he was drowned. A session was at once opened to replace the deceased. It was Gilman Ely who received this honour, having seventeen .sentences inflicted by the courts of France, England and Germany, and achieved the total of 29 years in prison and 35 years in the hulks. Gilman Ely will thus be transferred from the Civil Body to the Merry Fellows. Our best wishes go with him."

It will be seen that the personages in question were designated only by their forenames. This was the custom in Blackland, where every new arrival lost his family name, which was known only to the Chief. Alone among the white inhabitants, apart from a special group to be described later, that Chief was known in the ordinary wav. Even then his name must have been a nickname, at once terrible and sinister. He was called Harry Killer.

Ten years before the remains of the Barsac Mission had been rounded up as explained in part 1 of this book, Harry Killer, coming from nobody knows where with several others of the same kidney, had reached that part of the desert where Blackland was to rise. There he had pitched his tent and said "The town will be here." And Blackland had arisen from the sand as though by enchantment.

It was a remarkable place. On level ground, on the right bank of the Tafasasset Oued, a gully dry until the decree of Harry Killer filled it with water, it was built in a precise semicircle, measuring exactly 1200 yards from north-east to south-west parallel to the stream and 600 yards from north-west to south-east. Its surface thus comprised over a hundred acres and was divided into three unequal sections, bounded by unscalable semicircular walls of compressed clay, over thirty feet high and almost as thick at their base.

Nearest the banks of the stream, renamed the Bed River by Harry Killer, the first section had a radius of two hundred and fifty yards. A boulevard a hundred yards wide extended from the points where it joined the second section along the river bank as far as the third. This increased its surface to about thirty five acres.

In the first section lived the aristocracy of Blackland; these were called, by way of antithesis, the Merry Fellows. Except for a few meant for higher destiny, Harry Killer's original companions had been the embryo of this corps. Around this nucleus had soon gathered a horde of bandits, escaped from prison or the hulks, to whom Killer had promised full satisfaction of their detestable instincts. Soon the Merry Fellows had grown to number 566, a total not to be exceeded on any pretext.

Their functions were numerous.