My servants had given some durra to the female slave of our first lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, to prepare merissa from, of which drink the rest of the crew partook. The Paradise-Stormer,—formerly, according to his own confession, a staunch toper,—had no sooner learned that his slave had set to make this liquor, than he ordered this unfortunate creature, who was kneeling just before the murhàka, and grinding the corn, so that the perspiration was pouring off in streams from the bared upper part of her body, to remain quiet where she was: whereupon she crossed her arms over her naked breast. At the very same moment he drew forth the kurbàsh from under his angereb, and swinging it backwards and forwards, brought it down with fearful violence upon her back. As he did not attend to my call from the cabin, but struck so furiously that her skin broke and blood poured down in streams, I jumped out and pulled him backwards by his angereb, so that his legs flew in the air. However, he sprang up again immediately, bounded to the side of the ship, and shouted, with a menacing countenance, “Effendi,” instead of calling me “Kawagi,” which is the usual title for a Frank and a merchant. I had scarcely, however, returned to my cabin, ere he seized his slave again to throw her overboard. I immediately caught up my double-barrel, stood in the doorway, and called out “Ana oedrup” (I’ll fire), whereupon he let her go, and said, with a pallid countenance, that she was his property and he could do as he liked with her. He at last suppressed his anger, when I explained to him that his own head as well as all his Harim, belonged to the Basha. Subsequently he ventured to complain of me to the commandant, who, knowing his malignant and hypocritical character, removed him to the little sandal, to the great delight of the whole crew. On our return to Khartùm he was cringing enough to want to kiss my hand and ask my pardon, (although he had become a captain in the Basha’s guard), because the Basha distinguished me.