We left Angala the following day, to the great distress of our host, the delatoo, who would have feasted us for a week. A child had been borne by one of his wives, just about the time Dr. Oudney had passed through on his visit to Showy; which, in return for his prescriptions, the delatoo had named _Tibeeb_, the Doctor’s travelling name. Indeed, there was a liberality of feeling and toleration about our host deserving most honourable mention; and when, on my return from Loggun, worn out by fatigue and anxiety, I really required nursing, he introduced his sister, a female of most matronly deportment, who superintended the process of shampooing, which was performed by one of her best looking and most accomplished handmaids. On my expressing my thanks to the delatoo for these unlooked-for attentions, he replied, “It grieved us all to see so great a man as yourself, so far from home, a stranger and without women; when in your own country, ‘gray hairs to you!’ you have, at least, a hundred, I dare say!” On the 23d we reached Showy, on the banks of the river Shary: the magnitude of the stream drew from us both an involuntary exclamation of surprise; it appeared to be full half a mile in width, running at the rate of two to three[47] miles an hour, in the direction nearly of north. In the centre of the river is a beautiful island, nearly a mile in length, in front of the town. Showy forms part of the district of Maffatai, and is governed by a kaid: and this person, who treated us with great attention, proposed that we should proceed down the stream to the Tchad, according to the sheikh’s directions.