Without any disrespect to the memory of my “uncle”—my very worthy and excellent “uncle”—I suspect him of having been the hero of at least one idyl on the banks of the Niger, in which a young beauty of the Kel es Suk tribe also played her part. Her name was Neschrun, and Barth, who generally dismisses the charms of the black or brown beauties he came across in his travels curtly enough, dwells on her graceful figure, her pleasing manners, her beautiful black eyes, and her hair parted on her brows, _à la Vierge_. He does not even neglect to tell us that she wore a garment alternately striped with black and red, which was most becoming. The attraction was evidently mutual, for he adds that she one day said to him, half in fun— “Will you marry me?” What prevented the course of true love running smoothly was some question about camels. “I expressed to her,” says Barth, “all the regret I felt at being obliged to refuse, and whilst explaining how sensible I was of the honour she did me I told her my camels were too tired to carry her.” I have already referred to the standard of beauty amongst these people, and how they admire _embonpoint_; and I may here add that, when a woman has achieved the weight desired, she might very well claim to be admitted into the so-called “_Société des Cent Kilos_.” The name given to this special charm by the Tuaregs is _tebulloden_, and those who know anything of the onomatopœia theory will see in a minute how appropriate it is to a Tuareg Venus who is not content with being merely a Venus Callipyge. Neschrun, no doubt, was rather of the _tebulloden_ style of beauty, so that it is quite possible that the camels of the German traveller were really not equal to carrying her weight. Now was not this a good story to prove my identity in my parley with the messengers from El Mekki? It actually turned out that Neschrun was the sister of El Mekki, and was still alive, so of course I made a great fuss about seeing her at once. Alas! she was far away in the interior, and it was no use hoping that she could come to me or that I could go to her, so I had to be content with sending her a present of a folding mirror with three glasses, trimmed with plush, which had cost about three shillings. See how generous I was! The messengers went back to tell El Mekki all about it, and we at once became capital friends. Two slaves belonging to the chief of the Kel es Suk were given to us as guides, and we started again, but not before I had sent my affectionate greetings to the lady who might have been my aunt if she had not been so fat, or if Barth’s camels had been better able to carry heavy loads. My dear “uncle”! my brave “uncle”! my providential “uncle”! yet once again had you drawn a sharp thorn from the foot of your nephew when the happy thought occurred to you of relating your love affair with a daughter of the Kel es Suk.