to be understood, as the entire absence of air, except now and then a hot blast, as if out of a furnace, made it most oppressive. Towards 6 o'clock it grew wonderfully [Sidenote: First halt on the march.] cooler, and at 6.30, when we sat down to dinner at a table placed in the open, it was quite delightful. This was the first of our mess, and, considering we were in the wilds, we did very well, having some preserved soup, a leg of mutton, and curry of sardines--I don't, however, recommend the latter to anyone who is not very hungry and hopeless of getting anything else--whiskey and water--very little of the former, and a very bad quality of the latter--completed the sumptuous repast. Just as dinner was over a noise was heard from the line of horses to which we all rushed to find that Mr. "Selim" (who is a pugnacious sort of gentleman) had drawn his picket pegs and was doing his best to completely destroy poor "Rufus," who being picketed was powerless to retaliate. For about ten minutes we were afraid we should lose "Selim" altogether, as the night was dark, and if he had rushed away into the open plain we should never have seen him again. Fortunately he was too anxious to return to finish his fight with Rufus, and we managed at last to catch him, neither horse being, wonderful to say, anything the worse. The fact is the horses are all quite wild after their long confinement and want of work, and this is a thing three or four heavy marches will all too quickly cure. To pay him out for his games, I decided to give "Selim" the pleasure of carrying me the first ten miles the following morning, "Akhbar" bringing me in the last five miles, and so giving "Rufus" an off day to allow him to recover the effects of his bites. We turned into bed at 8.30, sleeping, as usual in these parts, in the open air.