Our whole household now began to revive, and on Sunday we all met in the evening about sun-set, before the doors of our huts, and enjoyed the cool breeze for more than half an hour; even Doctor Oudney, whose eyes had ceased to be so painful, joined us—we had not enjoyed such a coterie for many months. A very hale strong negro woman, the mother of Mr. Clapperton’s servant, had taken the fever from her son, who had been more than a month laid on his back, and reduced her almost to death’s door. She was a Koorie from one of the islands to the east of the Tchad, and had sent for several fighis, who, after writing mysterious words, decided on her case as hopeless. At last an old Hadgi, more than seventy years of age, was requested to come to her:—he was a miserable old wretch, carrying nothing but an ink-bottle, made of a small gourd, and a few reed pens; but he set about his business with great form, and with the air of a master; and, in the evening, Zerega, my negro’s wife, came to me, quite in raptures at the following wonderful story: he said the woman was certainly enchanted, probably by the _kaffirs_, meaning the English, but, “By the head of the prophet,” he should drive the devil out of her, and which he called _shetan_ (the devil). He wrote a new _gidder_ (wooden bowl) all over sentences from the Koran; he washed it, and she drank the water; he said “Bismullah” forty times, and some other words, when she screamed out, and he directly produced two little red and white birds, which he said had come from her. “What did you do in that poor woman? she is not young,” said the fighi; “why perplex her? why did not you come out of her before?” “We did not wish to hurt her much,” said the birds; “but she has been kaffiring, old as she is, and must be punished: there are others in her yet who will not come out so easily; but now, since you are come, she will not die, but she had better take care for the future: we jumped into her when she went to the market; and she knows what she did there.” The poor woman shed an abundance of tears, and acknowledged that she had been a little thoughtless on the preceding market-day. The fighi was rewarded with her best Soudan shift, and they were all made happy at the news of her recovery. October 7.—About three thousand of the sheikh’s _spaheia_ (horsemen) had lately come in from the Tchad, Shary, and the different towns south and west of Angornou, in order that they might undergo a general inspection: their horses were in good condition. An extremely careful inspection took place by the sheikh himself, and punishment was instantly inflicted on any one who had a young horse, if it appeared to have been neglected: but those whose horses were old were excused, and the animal changed.