Among the Bongo and Dyoor alike, the river goes by the name of “Gueddy,” whilst the Niam-niam, in whose territory lies the whole of its upper course, call it “Sway.” It is ascertained to be one of the more important tributaries of the system of the White Nile. I found its source in Mount Baginze, in the eastern portion of the Niam-niam country, in lat. 5° 35´ N., and in almost the same longitude as that in which it joins the Gazelle; its main course, omitting the smaller windings, extends over 350 miles. [Sidenote: AN APOSTROPHE.] As we were wading across its clear waters, my servant, Mohammed Ameen, was suddenly attacked by a sentimental fit of home-sickness. He has been mentioned before as distinguished by the nickname of “the swimmer,” and as a former Reis he was always more interested than anybody else in river-systems and hydrographical questions. Stopping midway in the channel, as though lost in contemplation, he suddenly apostrophised the waters: “Yonder lies Khartoom; yonder flows the Nile. Pass on, O stream, pass on in peace! and bear my greeting to the dear old Bahr-el-Nil!” An Egyptian would have been too stolid to be moved like this son of Nubia. The bush-ranges on the opposite shore were enlivened by numerous herds of hartebeests and leucotis antelopes. I hurried on in advance of my caravan, hoping to enjoy a good chase, but my attempt only resulted in a circuitous ramble and in extreme fatigue. It was not until the middle of the day that I rejoined my people in a little village of the Dyoor, and by that time, inexperienced as I was, the heat, the running, and the fear of losing my way had conspired almost to deprive me of the use of my senses. The numberless herds that, without making a stand, continually scampered across my path, still further increased my bewilderment. I was far onwards on my way back when a flock of domestic goats, startled by the apparition of a stranger came running athwart my way. They were of a reddish colour, and, had they been in the midst of a wilderness, might easily be mistaken for the little bush antelope (_A. madoqua_), so common in these parts. I was just about to send a last despairing shot amongst the harmless creatures, but discovered my mistake betimes. When I afterwards related my adventure for the entertainment of my people, one of them told a similar anecdote of a previous traveller, who, however, had actually shot a goat, and when the enraged owner insisted upon compensation, could not be induced, even in the face of the _corpus delicti_, to acknowledge his error. The man who told this had been an eye-witness of the affair, and described in the liveliest manner the contest that had raged over the zoological character of the hapless goat.