Then when all are up and dressed, and everything is stowed away, all turn towards the rising sun to perform their devotions, for most of our men are Mussulmans. Some of them, who were but lukewarm believers when in their homes on the Senegal, become more and more devout the further they are from their country. Much of it is mere show, of course. Others really have a kind of instinctive religion, a sort of superstitious terror of the unseen—what may be called the natural religion of fear. In every other respect however, they are brave enough: we have had plenty of proof of that. I must add here, however, that I have remarked rather a singular fact, namely, that great religious zeal and endless prostrations, with much posing and genuflexion, generally coincide with fits of dishonesty, lying, and treacherous behaviour. One of our fellows, who had hitherto been honest enough, took simultaneously to prayer and pilfering our beads; and a man in whom I had before had great confidence strutted about wearing strings of stolen property on his neck and arms without any attempt at disguise. This put me on my guard. Of course he had every reason to ask pardon of God for his sins and to keep on muttering, “_Astafar wallaye, astafar wallaye!_—Pardon, pardon!” At the same time he had taken to filching goods in the market, an aggravating circumstance of this crime being that he was trusted to look after our purchases. There were of course some really devout Mahommedans amongst our men. Samba Ahmady, our quarter-master, for instance, always performed his devotions in private, and was a model of probity. Digui too was a true believer, but perhaps I should say of him that he was a philosopher rather than a blinded Mahommedan. He knew how to return thanks to Allah without any ostentation when we had safely got through some difficulty or danger, and whilst admitting that there were such people as bad marabouts, he sometimes talked in a manner alike naïve, touching, and elevated, of the dealings of Providence with man, which is indeed rare, especially amongst illiterate negroes. Then Ahmady Mody, another trustworthy fellow, had a theory of his own about salaams, and all that. I said to him one day, “Why don’t you perform your salaam when the others do?” “Commandant,” he replied, “I am too small; I will do it when I am married.”