He called the chief of the village of Nannaoua to give him instructions with a view to our comfort. The latter got up and came to listen to his suzerain’s commands, kneeling before him with clasped hands, downcast eyes, and devoutly attentive face. When the sultan ceased speaking, the village chief clapped his hands several times and got up to go at once and transmit to his subjects the orders he had just received. Early next morning I reached the camp that had been prepared for me in the shade of some “kournas” near the well, but the huts were so low roofed and uncomfortable that I preferred to pitch my tent, severely damaged as it was by four years’ wear and tear. I had to stay two days at Niéré to wait for the arrival of four camels intended to replace the pack-carrying oxen I had to send back to Abéché. The capital of Tama is only a small village covering about 35 acres, where the straw huts are set rather far apart; the inhabitants, by no means numerous, consist almost exclusively of the families and servants of the dignitaries immediately surrounding the sultan. Other villages are scattered about the neighbourhood, usually lying at the foot of isolated rocks of no great height, but of very characteristic geometrical shapes, rising out of the uniform tableland like natural landmarks destined to rejoice the hearts of a triangulation brigade. In our camp an unpleasant surprise awaited us: hardly had we settled down when we saw coming down from the kournas whole battalions of caterpillars that made straight towards us and obstinately set about climbing all over our packing-cases, chairs, clothes, and persons in quest of a quiet and shady corner where they could comfortably instal their cocoons and go to sleep in the hope of a happy metamorphosis. We hunted them, killed them, but to no purpose, for still they came. And these caterpillars, sociable to a fault, are tormentors of the worst type: wherever they go they leave behind them invisible hairs that burn like nettles. Next morning we were all scratching furiously, unable to find even momentary relief except in applications of very hot water. My trunk of books was infested, and, above all, that which contained my linen; so also were my bedclothes. All the washing, swilling, and beating I could do failed to rid my clothes entirely of this pest, and I had to endure its tortures for long as best I might. It was only when I got to Khartoum and could get fresh clothes and throw away my up-country garments, if such they could be called, that I really found a little peace. In the evening a thick cloud of locusts came and settled on the region; in a few minutes the trees were covered with them, and their green changed to the pink hue of these voracious insects’ bodies.