Some days afterward, as Bruce was sitting in his tent, musing upon the very unpromising aspect of his affairs, an Arab of very ordinary appearance, naked, with only a cotton cloth round his middle, came up to him, and offered to conduct him to Barbar, and thence to Egypt. He said his house was at Daroo, on the side of the Nile, about twenty miles beyond Syene or Assouan, nearer Cairo. Bruce asked him why he had not gone with Mohammed Towash, who had lately set off. He replied he did not like the company, and was very much mistaken if their journey would end well. On pressing him farther if this was the true reason, he confessed that he had contracted debt, had been obliged to pawn his clothes, and that his camel was detained for what still remained unpaid. After much conversation, Bruce found that Idris (for that was his name) was a man of some substance in his own country, and had a daughter married to the schourbatchie at Assouan. A bargain was accordingly made. Bruce redeemed the camel and cloak, and Idris agreed to show him the way to Egypt, where he was to be paid and rewarded according to his behaviour. Bruce having thus secured a guide, was now prepared to leave Shendi; but, previous to his departure, he waited upon Sittina to thank her for her favours; for she had sent for Idris, had given him very positive instructions, which she enforced by threats, and had also furnished Bruce with useful letters. He therefore begged he might be allowed to testify his gratitude by once again kissing her hand, to which she laughingly condescended, saying, "Well, you are an odd man! If Idris, my son, saw me just now, he would think me mad!" It is curious, instructive, and amusing to observe how admirably Bruce works his way, by invariably bending before the difficulties which assail him. He is bold and daring among the brave, resolute before tyrants, a physician to his friends, a magician before the rabble, and before the gentler sex (in these latitudes we should offend them were we to call them fair) he is on his knee, and respectfully kisses their hands, whether it be their custom or no. After passing the small island of Kurgos, where Bruce saw the first ruins he had met with since those of Axum in Abyssinia, he travelled for five days, when he reached the ferry on the great river Tacazzé, Atbara, or Astaboras, which was about a quarter of a mile broad, and exceedingly deep. It was as clear as Bruce had seen it in Abyssinia, but its banks had lost their beauty, as it here flowed through a parched, desert, barren country; still its waters came from Abyssinia, a country yet fresh and dear in Bruce's recollection. "I reflected," he says, "with much satisfaction, upon the many circumstances the sight of this river recalled to my mind; but still the greatest was, that the scenes of these were now far distant, and that I was by so much more advanced towards home."