We could not get a clear conception of their ideas of religion—the less so, because the Tershomàn translating into Arabic was a heathen Dinkaui. It seems that they worship a spirit of nature, for we had been previously told that their god was grander than the mast of our vessel. Whether they reverence him under a tree, as the criminal court of Làkono seems to denote, is a question I do not venture to decide. Horns, teeth, and amulets point to some sort of worship. Without troubling himself further with farewell ceremonies, Làkono rose with his men; but his wife had previously looked at the carpet, gave him a friendly dig in the ribs, and whispered a few words to him. The great king did not wait for this being said twice; he seized the end of the carpet, and gave it over, without further ceremony, to the slave close at hand. This carpet belonged, however, to Rassulla Effendi, who was the maùhn, or scribe, to Selim Capitan, and a Persian by birth. He drew a long face on seeing these proceedings, but was consoled with the promise of another new carpet, and the whole thing was laughed at as an ingenious trick. A panorama, to which, however, the neighbourhood of beautiful mountain-forms lends the true charm, opens from the Island of Tshànker. Opposite to us, on the right shore, we see the village of Wuàlana, and before it lies a shallow island, called Koriana; on the right shore lie, at a short distance from it, the villages of Harikono and Amrit. The houses of the villages are tokuls, part of them having higher pointed roofs. Shady trees stand around, and the copsewood enjoys such a verdant life that we might fancy ourselves in a northern region.