King Làkono sits on the shore in the centre of his people, who are standing around him; his favourite wife is also standing, and only one of his brothers is sitting near him. I now hear that Làkono had asked Selim Capitan for a musket to shoot the cannibals. The latter feared that the Tubal Cain of Bari might establish a manufactory of guns, and then come as a great conqueror to Sennaar, and therefore flatly refused him. On this account his Majesty is angry, and will not come on board. I am particularly sorry that he does not take leave of us, for I had noted down several questions which I should like to ask him. A drummer close to him is beating very skilfully, from time to time, on his long wooden kettle-drum, and answers quite doughtily the roll of one of our drummers. Another is blowing a wooden trumpet, in which the mouth-piece, or the hole at the upper end, is like that of a flute. They have also a twisted antelope’s horn, from which they manage to elicit several notes. Notwithstanding the violent north wind, we set out again at half-past one o’clock, without even thinking of a visit of reconciliation to Làkono. What can the man think of us now? We who have got so many weapons, spears, bows, and clubs, from his people, and who certainly, in his eyes, have equally as many guns, do not give him even a single musket! We row at first, but soon tiring of this work, the vessels are allowed to drift with the stream, “Allah kerim,” and be tossed by the wind wherever it may drive them. We therefore knock one against the other, run towards the shore, and go, to my extreme anger, down the river with the stern foremost instead of the bow. This does not seem to Feïzulla Capitan to be any disgrace. To the right shore a shallow island, partly cultivated, and having, at the extremity of its foot, a little village. Another, upon which are several cows, who have only to thank the strong wind that we did not carry away some of them, stretches far downwards for nearly an hour.