The people appear to be favoured of God as of heaven itself. The sun and moon do not appear to excite any unusual ideas here, although the former may be welcome in the morning, when they shake off the night’s frost with the ashes, and in the evening to light them when they return from the chase, from labour in the fields, and from battle, or when they drive home their herds. The moon is of less service to them, for they go to roost with the fowls. The beneficent deeds of these two luminaries are too regular. But the canopy of heaven itself may direct their thoughts above; from thence comes the rain, irrigating their fields, causing the stream to increase, filling and animating anew their large fish-ponds. God’s water is allowed to flow over God’s land, and they are pleased at the cheerful harvest, without praying, beseeching, and returning thanks, for they may look upon periodical rain as a regular tribute from above. Heaven does not forsake her people here, and the inexorable sun, parching up everything, has perhaps never been worshipped by the Ethiopians. We lie now to the eastern side of the island of Tshànker. King Làkono visited us to-day a second time, and brought with him a young wife from his harìm. He took off his hand the orange-coloured ring, on which Selim Capitan fixed a longing eye, and presented it to him with a little iron stool, plainly forged in a hurry. The Crown-prince, Tshobè, has a very intelligent countenance, and seems to me to be a clever fellow. He wears no ornament on the upper part of his arms, except the two large ivory rings. Although it was known that he would succeed King Làkono, and that the latter had called him his eldest son and successor, yet the Turks believed that he was some relation of the king’s, whom he had only brought with him to receive presents. I had, however, previously seen him with us, and remarked at that time that he kept back proudly when the others stepped forward for our gifts. But Làkono had only presented us with two oxen, and given us a verbal mandate to the republicans of the left shore; therefore, the Turks were discontented. Against all policy, the honour of a Turkish coronation-mantle was not conferred upon Tshobè, nor on the others who might have expected a dress. The prince took the miserable glass beads with a kind of indifference and contempt.