The Sheikh Abd-el-Hady sent us breakfast, and he and his people were far more polite than yesterday. We learned that there was a caravan in the wady about to start for Ghât, and I took the opportunity to write to that place to produce a proper impression of our views and intentions, as I learned that a very erroneous one had gone abroad. The Sheikh and his elders came to ask me to _lend_ them twelve mahboubs, to make up the amount of tribute now being collected by the agents of the Pasha of Mourzuk. Of course I did not consent, representing that I was at the outset of a long journey, and that the Pasha would certainly punish them if he ever heard that such a request had been made. As a solace for the disappointment, I gave the Sheikh three handkerchiefs and a pocket-knife. The Tuaricks came in for a little soap, an article seemingly in universal request. El-Wady is a deep valley, lying like a moat between the elevated sandy desert and the plateau on which Mourzuk is situated. This plateau, at the distance of every few miles, juts out huge buttresses of perpendicular cliffs, which frown over the broken thread of green vegetation in the valley. Thick forests of palms stretch at various points along the low plain, where are springs plentifully furnished by filtration from the high ground on either hand. The various kinds of oasian culture are pursued here with success. Wheat and barley are produced in considerable quantities; and camels, asses, and goats find plentiful nourishment. The villages are numerous; but some contain only few men, and none exceed forty-five. Takarteebah, the largest place, pays four hundred and ninety mahboubs per annum, cultivates four thousand palms, yielding a hundred and fifty kafasses of dates, thirty of wheat, and eight of barley; it feeds eleven asses. I observed that all domestic animals, the goats especially, attain a very diminutive size in these oases, the nourishment for them being but scanty. In this oasis the palm-groves are much more dense than in any other I have seen. They almost merit the name of forests, both from their size and wild luxuriant appearance. The Fezzanees pay little attention to their culture, and when a tree falls it is frequently suffered to lie for months, even though it block up the public road. In contrast to the burning desert we had just traversed, these dense woods casting their shadows on the white sand produced a most pleasing effect. We eagerly wandered into the cool arcades, and watched with delight the doves and hippoes, and other birds, as they fluttered to and fro amidst the drooping leaves. Laghareefah, like Edree, had been destroyed by the brilliant, though ruthless usurper, Abd-el-Galeel, on account of its resistance to his authority. The old town is at a little distance from the new, and was evidently a much better-built place, commanded by an earthen kasr or fortress.