"Some Arabs appeared to say good-bye to us, and overwhelmed us with their _Kattar-Kherak_ (may God increase your happiness); we reply to their bows and scrapes in our most courtly fashion, and off we go. "Before leaving Souakim we pass by the Foullah, the suburb favoured by the Nomads. They live in a camp composed of tents made of matting, and held up by poles of acacia-wood. Several of these people came to the side of the road to wish us a pleasant and prosperous journey. We noticed that their bûrnus differed from those worn by the inhabitants of the towns, being of some dark material, instead of white, and consequently not so liable to be soiled. Miss Poles, who was walking close to me, and never lets anything escape her, pointed out to me several very handsome men, of dignified mien, and small, but strongly-marked features. "After leaving the town we came to a large plain, between the sea and the mountain ranges, interspersed here and there with enormous rocks of blackish hue, which every now and then bar our progress and cause us to make a detour. On the way I amused myself by watching our camels, and I find that they take from seventy to seventy-five paces per minute, and that if you hit them or shout at them, they do not increase the number but the length of their stride. You can see by this that Miss Poles, with her stilts, will have no difficulty in keeping up with us. "Soon we begin the ascent of the mountain-range, the temperature changes almost at once, and, in spite of the sun, some puffs of fresh air meet us in the face and revive our energies, weakened by the suffocating heat of Souakim. "The evening closes in and the day's work is over for us, our retinue, and our animals. The baggage is unloaded and carefully stacked with the double object of rendering theft difficult and forming an intrenchment round ourselves. Whilst the camels seek a repast in the neighbouring plain, their masters collect a few branches and, having made a fire with them, proceed to cook their evening meal, consisting of parched durra. "We are more luxurious, and have made up our minds to feast sumptuously after this first day's march. Our choicest provisions are spread out on the grass, a few bottles of our finest vintage find themselves minus their corks, and we sit down to table—that is to say, we take our seats on saddles, packs, cases, or bales. Never, my dear fellow, was there such a cheerful meal. What the future has in store for us I know not, but, to quote the old proverb, this is so much saved from the enemy.