Gor and Thioutch, standing in the public square, immediately sensed that something was wrong with their friends' presence. Meanwhile, Mor and Badou, busy chatting with girls, had no idea they were already involved in something serious. But Ibrahima, visibly unsettled, made it clear that it was time to leave.
Day after day, they wandered aimlessly, and their crimes grew steadily worse. Eventually, they adopted pseudonyms.
Ibrahima became Dof Dal.
Badou became Bandi Dal.
Masse became Ma Dal.
Cheikh became Kheuch Dal.
Demba became Dembis Dal.
Papis became Papis Dal (he had never been serious a single day in his life).
Gor became Gor Dal.
Thioutch became Mbeur Dal.
Mor became Neub Dal, and his companion of the same kind, Moussa, became Mous Dal.
From then on, the clan was known simply as the Dal.
They eventually settled in a remote place where they established their stronghold and named it Watch Dal. Little by little, others joined them, and Watch Dal grew into a real village.
Unfortunately, many of them did not live long enough to witness its growth. An armed robbery cost several of them their lives. It was a devastating blow to the Dal clan. Among the dead were Ma Dal, Dembis Dal, Papis Dal, Gor Dal, and Thioutch Dal.
During the weekly Wednesday market held between Diamegueune and Lambay, large crowds gathered. It was also the Dal's favorite day—but never for good reasons.
Salif never missed this opportunity and did well selling his products. Unfortunately, the young Dal spared no one. The people of Deuk Wolof, unaware of who the Dal truly were, often became their victims.
Two days after the market, some prepared for Friday night, and during the day they read the Qur'an and prepared for prayer. After the prayer, children received offerings.
In the evening, Salif talked with his friends. Sometimes they mentioned the Dal youths, but the way they spoke showed they did not truly know them.
"These boys should be careful. Our strange neighbors don't seem like normal people."
"It might end badly for them if they keep going like this."
Around eleven o'clock, silence settled in. The group saw only one reasonable option—to rest—and they soon did.
Nogaye and Nabou took turns cooking. This time, it was Nogaye's turn to go to the market and prepare a good meal. Intelligent and observant, she was the only one who had a bad feeling about the Dal.
One day, Salif discovered his shop had been broken into. All his goods were damaged. The sight was sickening—many items had been stolen. Fortunately, he had the habit of taking the day's earnings home with him.
The question on everyone's mind was: who could have caused such destruction?
Nogaye, highly suspicious, accused the Dal she often saw at the market. The others dismissed her as paranoid. Trying to control his anger, Salif attempted to isolate himself—but that proved impossible, as everyone already knew what had happened. Shortly afterward, Thiam and Modou joined him in his room; the others had received the news late.
The next day, Salif found his stall reorganized thanks to the efforts of his friends—clearly a night's work. He could only thank them for such generosity.
In the following weeks, Salif regained his footing. He restocked his shop with new goods and reinforced the door with chains and padlocks.
Unsurprisingly, the Dal youths were seen walking around with Salif's stolen products, looking perfectly pleased with themselves—nothing unusual for them.
Ibra, who was accompanying his mother Astou, passed by Salif's stall and greeted him. On his way back, he returned to speak with him.
"How are you?" Ibra asked.
"Fine," Salif replied. "How is your father? I heard he was ill."
"It's nothing. He's doing well," Ibra answered.
"That's good to hear," said Salif.
"Well, I should go. I have work waiting for me," Ibra said.
"Thanks for stopping by," Salif replied.
"Of course. It's the least I could do," Ibra concluded.
He left immediately and returned to his carpentry job.
Meanwhile, Nder was helping his father, Biram, clean the livestock enclosure. His younger sister Oumou joined them with fresh water. Their father asked at once:
"Did Fanta send you?" Biram asked.
"Yes, Mama did," Oumou replied. "Seeing how hard you were working, I told her you must be thirsty."
"That's good, my daughter," Biram said. "You're my friend."
"Well, it's about time," Nder added. "I was so thirsty. You're getting a bracelet, Oumou!"
"Thank you," she said.
"Don't worry," Nder promised. "I mean it."