It is often found in lumps as large as the fist; it is rarely colourless, and more frequently than otherwise tinged with the hue of amber. Very striking is the sight afforded by the wood of acacias in the months of winter; the boughs, bare of leaves and white as chalk, stretch out like ghosts; they are covered with the empty pods, which cluster everywhere like flakes of snow; whilst the voices of a thousand flutes give out their hollow dirge. Such is the forest of the Soffar. [Illustration: Prickles of Acacia.] The peculiarities which affect the growth of the acacia appear to be transmitted to a very remarkable extent. On a former journey I took some seeds to Cairo, which already had produced some trees of a very considerable size. These trees exhibited the special appearances of the parents; below the prickles were the same excrescences and insect-borings; not only was this the case in the park of Esbekieh in Cairo, but it also occurred in several other situations, which left the problem to be solved, how was it that the insect survived in the seed, or how did it contrive to get to its tree in Cairo? [Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT.] On the 5th of February we finally left the Egyptian encampment, and directed our course up the stream towards the region of the papyrus. After sailing all night we stopped just short of the mouth of the Sobat, on the right bank close to a forest. The progress of the coming days would lead us through an insecure territory; we wanted to make up our supply of wood, and knew that the hostility of the Shillooks would, in many places, render any attempt at landing on our part quite unadvisable. Of the boats which were bound for the Gazelle, only one had arrived. In order to render us assistance, the Mudir had charged the owner not to leave my party in the lurch. This circumstance had a very important effect upon my whole journey, as it was the means of introducing me to Mohammed Aboo Sammat, who was proprietor of the boat. This magnanimous Nubian was destined to exercise a very considerable influence on my undertaking, and, indeed, he contributed more to my success than all the satraps of the Soudan. During my land journey I had first made his acquaintance, and now he invited me to be his guest until he should have accompanied me to the remotest tribes, a proposal on his part which made my blood tingle in my veins. A native of Dar-Kenoos, in his way he was a little hero. Sword in hand he had vanquished various districts large enough to have formed small states in Europe. A merchant full of enterprise, he avoided no danger, and was sparing neither of trouble nor of sacrifice; in the words of the Horaz, “he explored the distant Indies, and compassed sea and land to escape poverty.” Yet all the while he had the keenest sympathy with learning, and could travel through the remotest countries at the bidding of science to see the wonders of the world.