On the day previous to our approach to Sockna, a town about half way between Tripoli and Mourzuk, which we reached in fourteen days, the uniformity of the journey was somewhat enlivened, by meeting with a kafila of slaves, from Fezzan, in which were about seventy negresses, much better looking, and more healthy, than any we had seen near the sea-coast. They were marching in parties of fifteen or twenty; and on our inquiring of one of those parties from whence they came, the poor things divided themselves with the greatest simplicity, and answered, “Soudan, Begharmi, and Kanem,” pointing out the different parcels, from each country, as they spoke: those from Soudan had the most regular features, and an expression of countenance particularly pleasing. Passing a small wadey and plantation of date trees, we had soon a view of Sockna, and were met on the plain, on which it stands, by the governor and principal inhabitants, accompanied by some hundreds of the country people, who all crowded round our horses, kissing our hands, and welcoming us with every appearance of sincerity and satisfaction; and in this way we entered the town: the words “Inglesi! Inglesi!” were repeated by a hundred voices from the crowd. This, to us, was highly satisfactory, as we were the first English travellers in Africa who had resisted the persuasion that a disguise was necessary, and who had determined to travel in our real character as Britons and Christians, and to wear, on all occasions, our English dresses; nor had we, at any future period, occasion to regret that we had done so. There was here no jealousy, nor distrust of us as Christians; on the contrary, I am perfectly satisfied that our reception would have been less friendly had we assumed a character that could have been at best but ill supported. In trying to make ourselves appear as Mussulmans, we should have been set down as real impostors.