_Thursday, Dec. 22._--Started at 7.45. Every morning the guide invokes the aid of “Sheik Abdel Kadir,” the patron of the desert. Cold wind--sandy plain. Make a pass between two hills called _Gebel Mougram_, where we lunch. Mirage. After lunch the guide gave the word and we started off on a fast trot for Aboo-Hamed, leaving the baggage train to come on behind. We trotted all the afternoon over a long flat, seemingly endless. At last we saw the palm trees by the river. On and on we went, then all of a sudden we saw the river to the right of us. How beautiful the _real_ water looked! As we neared the town we fired a salute, and came in in fine style. We arrived at 5 P.M., and the baggage train came in at 8 P.M. I have met a very friendly officer here, who talks Turkish. A mud hut near the river stood ready for us, and we entered into possession at once. But the river! How beautiful to our eyes! We had a good drink and a good wash. [Illustration: WEST AFRICAN HABITATIONS.] _Friday, Dec. 23._--The men insisted that this day must be spent here in rest; that they needed it, and must have it. We said “All right,” and after cleaning up our guns and pistols, we went over to the beautiful island of Mokrat, where we were told that game abounded, to see what we could get for our table. We crossed in a crazy log boat that threatened every moment to go to the bottom. Here, after bagging game enough for a day or two, an accident happened. As I was running through some bushes I suddenly became lame, and thought that a serpent had bitten me; but it afterward proved to be a thorn driven into the ankle clear to the bone. Doctor said it was in the worst possible place, and did not dare to cut for it. But the pain soon became so great that it was unbearable, and the foot could not be touched to the ground. It nauseated me, too, and was altogether proving itself so much more than expected, that he determined to probe for it. Twice he attempted it, working half an hour or so each time and sinking the forceps over half an inch and all he dared, and finally, to ease the pain, he cut the nerve. My chief consolation is that I am not the first man who has had a “thorn in the flesh.”