and a pair of scissors; while for himself the eunuch took my two remaining pocket-handkerchiefs, and a coloured muslin one, with which he appeared to be highly delighted. [Illustration: From a Sketch by Major Denham. Engraved by E. Finden. MANDARA MUSICIANS. _Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._] April 25.—The news of the presents I had produced brought early this morning fifteen of the sultan’s sons, with double the number of followers, to my tent: they all wanted gunpowder, knives, and scissors; I had however neither one nor the other to give them. Two or three of the oldest of the princes got a French silk handkerchief each, and one a pair of cotton socks, and, of course, the others went away sadly discontented. I this morning ventured to make two attempts at sketching, but my apparatus and myself were carried off without ceremony to the sultan. My pencils marking without ink, created great astonishment, and the facility with which its traces were effaced by India rubber seemed still more astonishing. My old antagonist, Malem Chadily, was there, and affected to treat me with great complaisance: he talked a great deal about me and my country, which made his hearers repeatedly cry out, “Y-e-o-o-o!” but what the purport of his observations were I could not make out. I endeavoured, however, to forget all his former rudeness, took every thing in good part, and appeared quite upon as good terms with him as he evidently wished to appear to be with me. Several words were written both by him and the others, which the rubber left no remains of; at length the fighi wrote _Bismillah arachmani aracheme_ (in the name of the great and most merciful God), in large Koran characters; he made so deep an impression on the paper, that, after using the Indian rubber, the words still appeared legible: “This will not quite disappear,” said I. “No, no!” exclaimed the fighi, exulting; “they are the words of God, delivered to our Prophet! I defy you to erase them!” “Probably so,” said I; “then it will be in vain to try.” He showed the paper to the sultan, and then around him, with great satisfaction; they all exclaimed, “Y-e-o-o-o! _La illah el Allah! Mohammed rassoul Allah!_”—cast looks at me expressive of mingled pity and contempt, and I was well pleased when allowed to take my departure.