October 8.—A circumstance happened yesterday, which I acknowledge a good deal irritated my feelings. A Tripoli merchant had intrusted to one of the Mesurata a parcel of coral, to take for him to Angornou: it was, however, never forthcoming, and he declared that he had lost it on the road. The Koran law would not, in that case, oblige the loser to make good the loss—a thing lost is God’s will, and nobody’s fault. A servant of the owner, however, unluckily saw the coral afterwards in the Mesurata’s house; the merchant, therefore, appealed to the kadi, as, if he succeeded in proving this, the value would be recoverable. This servant had been for some time out of employ, and had assisted at our huts during the time that we had so many of our party sick. The kadi took this man’s oath, and was about to decide, when some one said, “Why, he eats bread and salt with the Christians.” “How!” said the kadi; “is that true?” “Yes,” replied he, “I have eaten their bread, but it was because no one else would feed me; but I don’t hate them the less for that.” “Turn him out,” said the kadi: “_Staffur allah!_ God forbid that any one who has eaten with Christians should give justice by the laws of Mahommed!” His evidence was accordingly refused, and the merchant lost his cause. A Bornouese, a friend of mine, who was present, asked the kadi, with much simplicity, whether really these Christians were such bad people: “they seem kind,” said he; “and if they are so very bad, why does God suffer them to be so rich, and to know things so much better than we do?” “Don’t talk about them,” said the kadi, “don’t talk about them—please God, those who are here will die Mislem: as to their riches, let them enjoy them. God allows them the good things of this world, but to Mislem he has given paradise and eternity.” “_Geree! geree!_” (true! true!) was re-echoed from each; and the fatah was immediately recited aloud. We had now received intelligence that the kafila which had left this place from Mourzuk, nearly a month since, was detained at Woodie, in consequence of the Tibboos having filled the wells between that place and Billma. Such of the Arabs as remained of our escort, after their return from Munga, left Kouka with the first kafila for Tripoli: they were all my professed friends; but, notwithstanding the miserable state in which they were, I had not the means of assisting them; the few dollars each man had received from the bashaw on quitting Tripoli, and all they possessed besides, being lost at Mandara, and they knew I was precisely in the same situation. One man in three or four sold his gun, an Arab’s greatest treasure, to provide them with water, skins, and corn, for their journey. Added to this, they were all weakened by sickness and wounds: the fancied riches they were to be masters of, by Boo-Khaloom’s victories over the Kerdies, had vanished into air, and they were about to return to their families after a year’s absence, even poorer than they left them.