In the meanwhile about fifteen hundred negroes may have been collected on the shore, not including those scattered on every side. They are armed without exception, and indeed with all their weapons,—a sight sending a thrill of horror through the veins of the Frenchmen and Turks, which is shewn plainly enough in various ways. They have only the consolation, and this ought to have prevented them before from feeling any fear at a danger not really existing—that we have, in truth, the grandees of the kingdom on board our vessels, and that they continue to be in the best humour, and certainly have no evil design, for Nature’s stamp imprinted on the human countenance cannot be deceptive here. Even Suliman Kashef has become quiet, and is perhaps turning over in his mind how he shall act in case of a sudden attack. All the natives have set up their “hui ih!” several times, and at every time we stretch out our necks towards the neighbouring shore to see what is going on. This “hui ih” always resounds _à tempo_, as if at word of command; there must be therefore an analogous signal, though our ears cannot distinguish it over the water. It is a cry of joy intended for their Matta. We are still waiting for him, but in vain; and in the meantime we din the ears of our guests with drumming and fifing. They are also plied continually with sweets. Again and again they enjoy them, and do not prefer the sugar to the fruit, but eat slowly one after the other, as if they had been accustomed to them from youth upwards, and laugh and jest with us. We hear from them that the kingdom of Bari extends for four days’ journey down the river; that the latter is called, in their language, Tubirih, and has its origin at a long distance off, but they know not whether from the mountains or the valley. There are said to be several other nations on its shores,—a sign, perhaps, of the considerable distance of its sources. These tribes have also a different language, but _there is no matta so powerful as Làkono_; which saying, since we have been in the kingdom of Bari, they are never tired of repeating. The red Goliath lolls and stretches himself in the most comfortable manner, and the others also change their position from time to time, and do not remain, like pagodas or the Egyptian statues of kings, in the lazy repose called by the Turks _kew_. Dogalè is pleased at being measured; he is six feet six inches, Parisian measure, in height, with an unusual development in breadth, powerful shoulders, and a chest that might be used as an anvil. The two others, however, are not so large, although far overtopping us. The large brass bells, brought by us as presents for the cattle, pleased them very much, and they give us plainly to understand that they can hear the sound of such a bell at a distance.