The beauty of the country has unfortunately again descended to the old uniformity, with the horizontal position of the flat country; before us lies an island like a Delta; it is already partly dry, and we pass by its left side. But stop! Every one fetches up, and we shall be obliged perhaps to work over to the right side. Ten o’clock, N. by E.; we row bravely against the N.E. wind. The shores of the stream are flat and low; by the sand lying thereon, we see that the river at its side flows over them. An arid island at the left shore is divided by a dry gohr. On the right, a village is suddenly disclosed, with broad tokuls, and negroes expecting treasures. Upon the island, also, they stride stoutly in close to the ships, but no beads are handed to them. The men of the oxen-village point to their herds, but their benevolent offer is in vain. We remark, as usual, among the light-coloured cows, many quite white, and few black or dapple. The bulls have the customary high and thick hump; the cows, on the contrary, have exactly the appearance of those at Emmerich on the Rhine; their horns are twisted in a surprisingly handsome form, and set off with flaky hair, as well as the ears. They carry the latter erect, by which means the head, and the lively eye, acquire a brisk and intelligent expression. We have an island of about a quarter of an hour in length at our right; the oars rest in consequence of a stronger current, and we go N.E. Half past eleven o’clock. On the left a green island, of the length of half an hour, before which we again get aground, without our intellectual commanders being disturbed by it. We stop at the right shore, to make our midday halt, but Suliman Kashef pushes off again, although he is the man who takes most care about the distribution of the meat, and we others follow amidst the murmurs of the crew.