As these meetings were not very select, I was obliged to promise secresy; for, had it been known that Mohammed or myself ever tasted such unlawful beverage, we should have been looked on as downright kaffirs. The people who formed these parties were generally of the lower class, although I once detected amongst them the religious old Kadi himself, in a state very far from sober, and listening to a woman playing the Erbab; but I found, by occasionally mixing with them, that I became better acquainted with their language and customs, which I knew would be of essential advantage as I proceeded southward. I also acquired many friends who, as far as their power extended, were of much assistance to me. Mohammed condescended to join in the dances, becoming always very much intoxicated, and I frequently remained the only sober person amongst them; so that I was able to make observations, and to be much amused by my companions. As on all these occasions we were with closed doors, in an open court, the women played to us on the Erbab, and really produced a very pleasing, though a wild melody: their songs were pretty and plaintive, and generally in the Soudan language, which is very musical. At some of our parties, a woman sang a song, which she said was much admired by the brother of the last Sultan, whose name was Sidi Montesor; and from certain expressions in it, I discovered that it was the same mentioned by Horneman; and what was singular enough, it was sung by the same woman: she recollected that traveller, as having often been at the castle when she performed there. Some of these songs abound with poetical images;—for example, a lover will compare his mistress to a young date just ripened; the jetty hue of her skin, to the wing of a raven; her teeth to pearls; her eyes to the sun; and her breath to the attar of roses; her words to musk; her voice to the erbab; and her kisses to honey, or the sugar brought from Egypt. The Arab songs are also very pretty, and generally in the same style. A young man once took much pains to teach me one; composed, as he said, by a relation of his own. He sang it, as is the Arab custom, in a voice low and monotonous, though far from disagreeable. The hero of the piece is one of the Waled Suliman; he is riding to see a girl whom he admires, but who belongs to another tribe.—As nearly as I can recollect, the words ran thus: