The country at Boosaida is somewhat hilly, and overrun with grass and brushwood, a small part only being planted with barley. The few Bedouins who inhabit it appear to have no other occupation than that of tending their camels, sheep, and goats; and the women are chiefly occupied in curing skins for containing water and manteca, which is done by means of certain roots found in great quantities in the neighbourhood. The Shekh, or principal man of the place, was named Hamed Shakshak, who, in order to ensure our being well supplied, for we ought not to suspect so obliging a personage of any less praiseworthy motive, took care to usurp the sole right and privilege of furnishing us himself with whatever we wished to purchase; never forgetting, however, in the excess of his zeal, to put a most unconscionable price upon everything. So careful had this considerate person been in his manœuvres, that we could not get even a draught of milk from the women in other tents, without promising to keep it secret from Hamed Shakshak. As we had no wish to embroil the honest inhabitants with their Shekh, we thought it better to take no notice of this proceeding, especially as the time we had to remain at Boosaida was short, and our demands were not likely to be very great. It was here that our agreement with the Mesurata camel-drivers finished; and the day after our arrival we were rejoined by our friend the Dúbbah, who had left us, as before stated, to make arrangements for furnishing us with others. He entered our tent with three large ostrich eggs wrapped up very carefully in the folds of his baracan, (for this garment may be considered as a general envelope for everything which an Arab thinks worthy of a cover,) and having unfolded them, one by one, laid them down very solemnly and ceremoniously, and with the greatest air of consequence imaginable, on the mat upon which we were sitting. All this was of course intended to enhance the value of the present, and we received it accordingly with all due acknowledgments. The prelude being over, Shekh Mahommed assumed a very mysterious air, and drew a little closer towards us; then lowering his voice, which was not usually one of the most gentle, he began to inform us (looking occasionally round the tent, as if he feared to be overheard from without) that a large troop of marauding Arabs were then at Kebrīt, having recently arrived there from the neighbourhood of Cairo, and that they were lying in wait for our party. There could be no doubt, he added, of the truth of this statement, for one of his own sons had just arrived from Cairo himself! On our asking him whether this son had actually seen the Arabs in question, he replied that, as yet, no person had seen them, but that the prints of horses’ feet, to the number of sixty, had been observed about the wells near Kebrīt, and that there could be no doubt whatever of the sinister intentions of the party. “But fear nothing,” continued the Shekh, with