On the last day of the month, after nearly a week's tedious detention in an insalubrious and soul-depressing spot, surrounded by black basaltic rocks, where little forage could be obtained, where water, although abundant, was extremely bad, and where the persecutions of prying savages, from whom there was no escape, were unceasing, the Embassy was again permitted to resume its march. Every hour had seemed an age, and "_Galla gassetoi_," the well-known cry to load, had therefore never been listened to with more heartfelt delight. Until after the rear of the string of camels left the ground, and Izhak was fairly seated on his mule, it was scarcely possible to believe that some fresh cause of detention would not be discovered; but the debates were at last over, and the litigants, weary of raising new objections, suffered their victims to advance in peace. The road wound up the Killulloo Wady, and thence over a barren rise strewed with obsidian, and with stones, the common pest of the country, to Waramilli. An interesting sight was presented in the line of march of a tribe proceeding in quest of water to the northward--a long line of dromedaries, homed cattle, oxen, sheep, and goats, interspersed by women and children, scantily clad in leathern petticoats, and laden with the rude date matting of portable wigwams, or the still ruder implements of household gear. Whilst the females thus bore heavy burdens slung across their breasts or led the files of camels, upon which rocked the long, raking, ship-like ribs of the dismantled cabin, the lazy lords sauntered ungallantly along, encumbered with naught save the equipment of spear and buckler, the ferocious aspect of all giving ample presage of the intentions entertained towards any party less formidable than themselves.