During the first half of the present century, Timbuktu occupied a very difficult and most precarious position. About 1800 a Fulah marabout, named Othman dan Fodio, carved out for himself a regular empire between Lake Tchad and the Niger, and his example led to the revolt, and the generally successful revolt, of nearly all the Fulahs distributed throughout the river basin. At Massina, Amadu Lobbo Cissé, a chief—of Soninké birth, it is true, but who had long resided amongst the Fulahs—raised the standard of revolt in the name of Islam, and his attempt, after various vicissitudes, succeeded. He and his son founded later an empire, the influence of which, with Hamda-Allahi as its capital, soon extended on both banks of the Niger as far as Timbuktu. Arrived there, however, the Fulahs found themselves face to face with the Tuareg tribes, who were very jealous of the maintenance of their independence. War of course soon broke out, and it lasted for half-a-century without any subjugation of the Tuaregs. It was not until later that the invasion of the Toucouleurs, led by El Hadj Omar, united the combatants against their common foe. During this time of struggle and trouble Timbuktu, standing as it did between the two contending parties, passed first to one and then to the other, and pillaged by both sides, she rapidly declined in prosperity, and was in danger of complete ruin. Under these trying circumstances, the merchants of the city, eager to obtain some sort of security for their lives, their goods, and their trade, sent to Tuat an earnest petition that some venerated Kunta marabout should come and live near Timbuktu, hoping that the respect felt for his piety might put a stop to the depredations of which their town was the victim. Sidi Moktar responded to this appeal. He came, and took up his abode with his family and a few of his more distant relations near Timbuktu. Of these relations the most celebrated were his brothers Sidi Aluatta and Sidi Hamet Beckay with his nephew Amadi. Barth has told us much about them all, but we have now specially to deal with Hamet Beckay, the doctor’s chief protector. Imbued through reading Barth’s travels with a belief that the very fate of my expedition might depend on finding, as he did, some man universally loved and respected to take me and my followers under his protection, I earnestly hoped to find such a man amongst the Tuaregs, with whom I had become well acquainted during my two years’ residence in the Sudan.