On our arrival at Birnie, which is a walled town, with huts of the same description as those in Kouka, and probably contains ten thousand inhabitants, we were first conducted to the gate of the sultan’s mud edifice, where a few of the court were assembled to receive us; and one, a sort of chamberlain, habited in eight or ten tobes, or shirts, of different colours, the outside one of fine white tufted silk of the manufacture of Soudan. In his hand he carried an immense staff, like a drum-major’s baton, and on his head he bore a turban exceeding in size any thing of the kind we had before seen; this was however but a trifling one to those we were destined to behold at the audience on the following morning. After salutations, _Barca l’affia el hamdalilla!_ (Blessing!—Are you well? Thank God!) which lasted for some minutes, we were conducted to some huts destined for our resting-place for the night: they were not, however, of a tempting description; and Boo-Khaloom proposed that a large tent should be pitched any where, which would be preferable. These wishes were quickly complied with; a large marquee was in a very short time ready for our reception, with a screen of linen running all round it, which, although it kept out the crowds of people who were assembled round the place, admitted the air, and formed a most inviting retreat from the burning sun that shone above us. The sultan shortly after sent word, that by sunrise the next morning he would receive us. In the evening a most plentiful, if not delicate, repast was brought to us, consisting of seventy dishes, each of which would have dined half-a-dozen persons with moderate appetites. The sultan himself sent ten, his wives thirty, and his mother thirty; and for fear the English should not eat like the Bornowy, a slave or two was loaded with live fowls for our dinner. The meats consisted of mutton and poultry, and were baked, boiled, and stewed.