Gifts of bread (teff), eggs, and fowls were brought into our camp in plenty, and some liberal Habash sent us a big jar of honey, the comb and all packed in together. It was a welcome and useful present, and served as a luxury in lieu of jam, of which we had a short supply. The size of the jar—it rather suggested the lurking-places of the Forty Thieves—embarrassed us, and we did not wish to carry quantities of honey-comb through Abyssinia. So we consulted Johannes. He told us to heat the jar until the honey just boiled, skim off the wax and pour the clear liquor into bottles. Fortunately we had saved empty bottles, and we filled up all we had; but half the jar remained after that, and had to be returned to the giver. All three of us were interested and busy in melting the honey and straining it through a piece of mosquito curtain, and were splendidly sticky and messy when we left off. While we were in the kitchen-quarters, we heard a loud grunting and snorting about twenty yards away, which made the ground tremble, and recognized at once that a hippo was in the reeds there. This badly frightened the cook, who slept in the tent nearest that spot. We had to assure him solemnly that the hippo would not carry out a night attack upon him. We struck our camp next morning (January 15), and marched to the River Reb. The boat was brought into service in crossing it. At one part the stream was about four feet six inches deep, and though this dip in the bed was only a couple of yards wide, it prevented the baggage animals from walking through. The water was shallow over the rest of the ford, so that they could keep their feet. All the mules and donkeys were unloaded while we lunched. The boat was quickly got ready and about half-past two Crawley pulled across with his first cargo. After he had had about an hour of the work, I took my turn. Dupuis was superintending the pitching of the tents and the stowing of the loads on the further side of the river. Then the fun began with bringing the baggage animals over.