The broad valley of El-Hasee is sandy, like all those of Fezzan. It is bounded on the north by the perpendicular buttresses of the Hamadah, and on the south by sandy swells. The well is not copious, but affords a regular supply of slightly brackish water. The people descend to the bottom, thirty or forty feet, and fill their gerbahs. The blacks are very troublesome, and require a good deal of patience. This morning they would not fetch water from this well, although quite close by the tent. I was obliged to threaten to leave them before I could get them to move. They are, probably, a little broken down by the fatigue of the Hamadah. We passed through Wady El-Hasee on the 24th, and after mid-day began to ascend, and continued to do so until we pitched tent at half-past four, at a place called Esfar. This is also a species of plateau, but consists of sand-hills, sandstone rocks, and shallow valleys filled with herbage and shrubs. I was glad to get rid of the eternal limestone and have a change of the sandstone. On the 25th we started early, and had a cool temperature all day. Our chaouch went out, and by the assistance of the greyhound bitch brought in a young gazelle. For about three hours the camels had herbage; but afterwards came a desert more horrible even than the Hamadah. It consists of sandstone rocks, and valleys covered with pebbles and loose blocks. Some of the rocks are perfectly black, and would be considered by an European geologist, on a distant view, as basalt. Until half-past four in the afternoon we did not see a blade of grass, a sprig of vegetation, or living thing of any description; but at the camping-ground was a thin scattering of herbage, near the foot of the black mountain called Solaou Mârrafa. We have sometimes moral disquisitions among our people. This day we had a dispute on religion. The Zintanah, a real orthodox Musulman, maintained a strict distinction between the believers and unbelievers, giving heaven to the former and hell to the latter. Yusuf and several more tolerant gentlemen held out hope of mercy to us all, as God was "the Compassionate and the Merciful." The chaouch also lectured the people on courage, and publicly maintained that the Fezzanees were all cowards. This fellow is a second Sir John Falstaff, without the corpulence. The tone of all members of the caravan, as I have mentioned, is now much humanised. Every one is more civil to us, and, by habit, to one another. However, the chaouches must, of course, get up a quarrel now and then: they do it between themselves; but, as a sign that they likewise are a little civilised, have only had two regular explosions to-day. Probably these worthies, who remind me of a bull-dog and a terrier, find particular pleasure in this form of social intercourse; for I always observe, that they are on more friendly terms than ever after they have almost come to beard-pulling.