teeth, swim to another and make fast again. Picture to yourself such a scene, if you can. I cannot describe it satisfactorily to myself. Hear, if you can, nearly two hundred men all shouting at the same time, giving orders, suggesting means, no one listening, no one obeying, each acting for himself—Old Nogood alone seated quietly on the deck smoking his pipe; our boat possessed by four score of these black Shellallee, half-naked, running to and fro, shouting and yelling, but doing nothing to help us. Pandemonium itself could scarce furnish such a scene of confusion. Babel was a tower of silence compared with this discord. After passing the third gate we sailed into a quiet haven and moored there for the night. It was only three P.M. But they are five-hour men here, commencing work at ten and stopping at three. We were kept waiting all the next day, as two other boats were ahead of us, and they took them up first. On the third morning we left our moorings and sailed under a fresh breeze about one hundred yards up the stream to the fourth gate. The fourth and fifth are in reality but one continuous rapid; but as a stoppage is made when half-way up to readjust the ropes, the natives divide it into two gates. The water rushes here with great rapidity—more so than in the other gates, as these are narrower. A stout rope was made fast to the cross-beams of the deck on the starboard bow, and the other end carried around a rock some distance off. Owing to some mistake there was no rope on the port side. The men were pulling on a rope carried directly ahead, when it suddenly parted; the boat swung around to starboard and struck a rock with great force, knocking off several planks six inches thick and seven feet long. They were picked up by the felluka, which floated around promiscuously, manned by five small boys. These planks were carved in scroll-work, and painted in bright colors. Reis Mohammed had carefully bound straw around them before starting, so that they might not even be scratched. He clenched his teeth and swore like a trooper; the only words intelligible to us were “Allah,” “Merkeb,” “Mohammed.” Reis Mohammed Hassan, Nogood’s successor, was standing on the awning piled up on the front of the quarter-deck. Every one else began to shout, gesticulate, and run around to no purpose; but he, shouting while he undressed, threw off his gown and turban, and, with his drawers on, jumped overboard, swam to a rock on the port side, and made fast a rope. A Nubian, attired in a girdle, now waded out into the rapid as far as he was able, and a rope was thrown him from the rock against which the boat rested. After three attempts he caught it and made it fast some distance ahead. A fourth rope was carried ashore and seized hold of by sixty men. We were then pulled into a narrow pass, through which the water dashed like a mill-race, and so narrow that the boat grazed the rocks on either side. For a moment we