Monday, 8th.—Clear and cool. The house in which I live is one of the best in Koolfu. I have three separate coozies parted off from the rest of the house, and a place for my stud, which now amounts to two horses and a mare. My landlady is a widow, large, fat, and deaf, with an only child, a daughter, about five years old; a spoiled child. The widow Laddie, as she is called, is considered to be very rich. She is a merchant; sells salt, natron, and various other articles: but what she is most famed for is her booza and roa bum, as the palm wine is called; and every night the large outer hut is filled with the topers of Koolfu, who are provided with music as well as drink, and keep it up generally until the dawn of morning separates them. Their music consists of the drum, erbab, or guitar of the Arabs, the Nyffé harp, and the voice. Their songs are mostly extempore, and allude to the company present. The booza is made from a mixture of doura, or Guinea corn, honey, Chili pepper, the root of a coarse grass on which the cattle feed, and a proportion of water: these are thrown in equal proportions into large earthen jars, open at top, and are allowed to ferment near a slow fire for four or five days, when the booza is fit to drink, and is put into earthen jars. It is a very fiery and intoxicating beverage; but, whether Mohamedan or pagan, they all drink, and agree very well together when in their cups. At first neither I nor my servants could sleep for their noise, but now I have got used to it. This night the new moon was seen, and Mohamedan and pagan joined in the cry of joy. My landlady had thirteen pieces of wood, on each of which was written by the Bornou malem the word “Bismillah,” the only word he could write. These boards she then washed and drank the water, and gave to her family to drink. She offered some of it to me; but I said I never drank dirty water: and I thought that if she and her servants had taken a comfortable cup of booza or bum it would have done them more good than drinking the washings of a board written over with ink; for the man was a rogue who had made her pay for such stuff. “What!” says she, “do you call the name of God dirty water? it was good to take it.” These rogues, who call themselves malems, impose on the poor ignorant people very much; and the pagans are as fond of having these charms as the Mohamedans. These dirty draughts are a cure for all evils, present and to come, and are called by the people _dua_. Some of their fighting men will confine themselves to their houses for thirty or forty days, fasting during the day, and only drinking and washing with this dirty stuff. If a man is fortunate, or does any feat above the common, it is attributed to the dua, or medicine: neither his wit nor the grace of God gains a man any thing.