I have again that lethargy, threatening, like the day before yesterday, to turn to fever,—a thing that makes me the more uneasy, because the Febris tertiana is not only very tenacious, but is also here fatal. Last night I was delirious, fell asleep late, and awoke at the moment of departure; the sun, just getting up, fell like an enormous torch on my face, when I unwittingly threw back the cloak with which I had covered it, on account of the gnats. At the noise of the sailors and soldiers, I fancied that all was on fire, and thought for a moment of the powder-room under me, without being able, however, to rise. At four o’clock we went E. by S., and I saw that the river wound more southerly before us, so that we did not advance, and heard that we must wait for the ships remaining behind, and lay to at the left shore. I had the fever till about sunset, but not in a violent degree. From my window I perceived, close to me, a large lake, over which the setting sun hung like a ball of blood. I raised myself up slowly on my legs, and really did not stand so weakly on them as I had imagined when lying; but the perspiration was not by any means subdued. I hoped, however, to recover this afterwards, and had myself carried ashore. This setting foot upon land exercised a peculiar influence, as after a tedious voyage. The main point in these countries is not to lose courage, but to drag about one’s sickly body so long as it can go; to stumble, fall, rise up again,—anything, only not to remain lying in bed in fearful despair. The dark margin of the Haba extended in a half circle between the setting sun and the water, from N.W. to S.E., like a faithful though somewhat distant attendant of the stream sunk down by his Neptunian majesty. The lake, which runs parallel with the river, and appears to have its greatest extension from S.S.E. to N.N.W., and is only divided from it by a narrow dam, four feet and a half high. The tree-islands in this lake, the foundation and the ground of which were concealed by the water, increase the picturesque and heartstirring impression by their dark shade and play of colours contrasting with the lake, glowing as if with fire! The landscape towards the west is very much confined by the semicircular margin of wood around the wide bay. An endless number of morass-birds swim or stand around on the shallow spots, and find here the richest prey; therefore, comparatively few birds are seen on the shores of the Nile, which is here called “Kiati,” which is only a deviation from Kidi or Kiti, as it was hitherto called. It became dark about seven o’clock, and we went on S.E. Shortly before this bend, there is on the left a village;—and now once more a pastoral hamlet, near which runs a gohr of little breadth to N.E., probably connected with the lake seen yonder on the right shore.