Here ended our conference; and some time after midnight, the negro who was to accompany me to Angornou, where I had previously intended awaiting the arrival of Doctor Oudney, roused me to commence my journey, adding, “We shall scarcely reach Angornou before daylight.” My baggage and necessaries were easily carried by one camel. My sole companion was my own negro Barca, whom I mounted on a mule, with my small canteens under him, containing a scanty supply of coffee: this, and a bag of rice, were all my provisions—and I trusted to Providence for the rest. To join the ghrazzie I was determined; but in what way it was to be accomplished, I was not yet decided. Boo-Khaloom had left Angornou the day before; and it was reported that he would halt one day about thirty-five miles south of that place: the destination of the expedition still remained a secret. Maraymy ben Soudanee, the negro whom the sheikh had appointed to accompany me, was the same that had attended me before in my excursion to the Tchad: he was born a slave in Mohamed el Soudanee’s family, the sheikh’s first cousin, who was now on his way to Mecca. As he took with him but a small retinue, Maraymy and many others were left behind, and served as an askar, or soldier, to the sheikh. His character amongst the sheikh’s people was one of great bravery; his daring manner of approaching the elephants, in our former trip, had not been unobserved by me; and during our present excursion he gave such proofs of gallantry and goodness of heart, at the same time laying me under obligations to him of the most serious kind,—no less, eventually, than the preservation of my life—that he merits every praise that it is in my power to bestow. Maraymy spoke broken Arabic, of which he was not a little proud: I had discovered that taciturnity was not among the number of his failings, and we had not proceeded many miles before he began to gratify his natural propensity with great volubility. For myself I was unusually disinclined to conversation; many circumstances combined to render me dissatisfied with the situation of our affairs. I felt, at the moment, more than ever the want of a companion and friend, in whose head and heart I could place some confidence; and Maraymy’s account of his battles, and hair-breadth escapes from the Kerdies, was almost unnoticed by me.