We had covered fourteen miles by half-past eleven, and then halted, considering that the donkeys had journeyed far enough. Our progress depended on them, and we were careful not to overwork them. Three were suffering from girth sores. We pitched our camp in a ravine about a quarter of a mile distant from the bed of the Gundar Wahar—which is the river Atbara with an Abyssinian name. One of our escort was reported ill with fever, and I found that his temperature was 104 degrees. But quinine had brought about a decisive improvement by nightfall. I had another patient. My friend Crawley had chafed his instep, and there was a bad sore on it. I had recourse to a little doctor’s diplomacy to keep him still, and put on such a large fomentation that he could not walk. Then Dupuis and I took our guns and rifles and tramped in the jungle—for the mass of thick, lofty grass deserved the name. My companion shot a brace of partridges, and we saw some guinea-fowl, and much spoor of big game. But nothing more got into our bag, and the excursion was wearisome and disappointing. On January 2 our road again lay through hilly, verdurous country. While the donkeys climbed or descended the steep inclines their loads slipped as before, and kept all hands busy. The boys were continually shouting for help, and the burdens were replaced amid yelling and cursing. These natives never worked without talking, singing, or swearing, and they were specially fond of hearing their own oaths. But, I think, very little ill-will went with the words, and in spite of the endless imprecations uttered over the donkeys, they treated the animals well. During the morning I took my rifle, filled my pockets with ball cartridges, and rode ahead of our party in the hope of trying a shot at big game. But I found small parties of Habashes[30] at intervals along the track throughout a distance of two miles in front of our convoy. Clearly it would be useless to search for any large wild beast in the proximity of these groups. I recognized the men as folk who had attached themselves to our train. They made a practice of camping where we pitched our tents, and had hitherto forestalled us in the choice of ground, and settled under the most suitable trees. They sought protection from the robbers who infest the district—the most notorious at the time was a Soudanese Arab called Hakos. I was glad that these wayfarers should enjoy a sense of security, but resented having sport spoiled. So I addressed a remonstrance to Johannes, who promised that all camp followers should keep in the rear in future, and he was as good as his word.