"The following morning Katchiba appeared at my door with a large red flag made of a piece of cotton cloth that the Turks had given him; he was accompanied by two men beating large drums, and a third playing a kind of clarionet: this playing at soldiers was an imitation of the Turks. He was in great spirits, being perfectly delighted with the necklace I had sent him." "Oct. 6th.--I have examined my only remaining donkey: he is a picture of misery--eyes and nose running, coat staring, and he is about to start to join his departed comrades; he has packed up for his last journey. With his loose skin hanging to his withered frame he looked like the British lion on the shield over the door of the Khartoum consulate. In that artistic effort the lion was equally lean and ragged, having perhaps been thus represented by the artist as a pictorial allusion to the smallness of the Consul's pay; the illustration over the shabby gateway utters, 'Behold my leanness! 150l. per annum!' "I feel a touch of the poetic stealing over me when I look at my departing donkey. 'I never loved a dear gazelle,' &c.: but the practical question, 'Who is to carry the portmanteau?' remains unanswered. I do not believe the Turks have any intention of going to Kamrasi's country; they are afraid, as they have heard that he is a powerful king, and they fear the restrictions that power will place upon their felonious propensities. In that case I shall go on without them; but they have deceived me, by borrowing 165 lbs. of beads which they cannot repay; this puts me to much inconvenience. The Asua river is still impassable, according to native reports; this will, prevent a general advance south. Should the rains cease, the river will fall rapidly, and I shall make a forward move and escape this prison of high grass and inaction." "Oct. 11th.--Lions roaring every night, but not visible. I set my men to work to construct a fortified camp, a simple oblong of palisades with two flanking projections at opposite angles to command all approaches; the lazy scoundrels are sulky in consequence. Their daily occupation is drinking merissa, sleeping, and strumming on the rababa, while that of the black women is quarrelling--one ebony sister insulting the other by telling her that she is as 'black as the kettle,' and recommending her, 'to eat poison.'"