I must break off for the moment from this subject, for a fresh clamour resounds, and the cry of “Hui, ih;” therefore away I go to Selim Capitan. We do not sit long with anxious curiosity, and look at the vacant carpet on which the great Matta was to recline, under the shade of the ship’s tent (Denda, perhaps derived from the Italian _tenda_, for a war-tent is called Gemma, and a shepherd’s-tent of straw-mats Birsh), for the sandal which had fetched the supreme chief from the right shore, arrives. The Melek or Sultan, as the Turks and Arabs call him, on account of his vast power, steps on our vessel, with a retinue of followers, part of whom we knew. The dress and coiffure distinguish his tall figure from all the others. Notwithstanding every one removed on one side, and we form a divàn upon cushions and chests around the carpet before the cabin, yet he treads upon the vessel with an insecure step, for he has his eyes directed towards us, and stumbles against the projecting foot of the gun-carriage. He carried his throne himself,—the little wooden stool, which we should call a foot-stool, and of which all make use; but he bore also an awful sceptre, consisting of a club: its thick knob was studded with large iron nails, to inspire greater respect. At the Arabic invitation, “fadl ochaut,” accompanied by a motion of the hand, he took his seat on the oval and somewhat hollowed-out stool, of about one foot long, and three quarters of a foot broad. There is something naturally dignified in his countenance and bearing, without any assumption; he looks at the semicircle surrounding him, so that he may not do anything derogatory to his position as Sultan, seeking probably him who is pointed out as the matta, or whom he takes to be our matta. He then slides along to Selim Capitan, who might appear to him to be of that rank from his corpulence, takes his right hand, and _sucks_ his finger-ends, which appears to me a humiliation. The large-bearded Suliman Kashef, vain and proud like all Circassians, wanted to have the same honour paid to him, and held out his fist with its powerful broad knuckles; but King Làkono was autocrat enough to conclude, from the principle of his sovereignty, that two mattas or monarchs could not be or exist by the side of one another. Selim Capitan, therefore, was to him the only real and supreme head of the foreigners, and he refused this homage in a very contemptuous manner to Suliman Kashef, who, contrary to his usual custom, was not arrayed in all his bravery to-day. In order not to make himself ridiculous, the latter suppressed the word “Kiàffar,” or “Abd,” which I saw was already trembling on his lips.