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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_a05c7794-0951-5216-8bc8-61bd9ee77587">XIV

       XV

       XVI

       XVII

       XVIII

       XIX

       XX

       XXI

       XXII

       XXIII

       XXIV

       XXV

       XXVI

       XXVII

       XXVIII

       XXIX

       XXX

       XXXI

       XXXII

       XXXIII

       XXXIV

       XXXV

       XXXVI

       PART III

       I

       II

       III

       IV

       V

       VI

       VII

       VIII

       IX

       X

       XI

       XII

       XIII

       XIV

       XV

       XVI

       XVII

       XVIII

       XIX

       XX

       XXI

       XXII

       XXIII

       XXIV

       XXV

       XXVI

       XXVII

       XXVIII

       XXIX

       XXX

       XXXI APOTHEOSIS

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      In your voyage down the west coast of Africa, after passing the southern extremity of Morocco, you sail for days and nights together past the shores of a never-ending land of desolation. It is the Sahara, “the great sea without water,” to which the Moors have given also the name of “Bled-el-Ateuch,” the land of thirst.

      These desert shores stretch for five hundred leagues without one port of call for the passing vessel, without one blade of grass, one sign of life.

      Solitude succeeds solitude with mournful monotony; shifting sandhills, vague horizons—and the heat grows each day more intense.

      At last there comes in sight over the sands an old city, white, with yellow palm trees set here and there—it is St. Louis on the Senegal, the capital of Senegambia.

      A church, a mosque, a

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