When we reached camp I gave my new acquaintances a drink of chartreuse in token of my gratitude, and then they squatted in front of my tent, and seemed greatly interested in watching me while I dressed a wound on the leg of one of the donkey-boys. They were doing no harm, but “the tout” bustled up in his most consequential mood to hurry them off, and I think he hit one of them. Anyhow, there was some disturbance, and the other Habashes made common cause. The corporal came to report to me that the escort officer was drunk, and had struck a man. Thereupon I summoned “the tout” and rated him, and ordered him to go and apologize to those visitors of mine, who had done me a service. Matters straightened themselves out, for the two men came to me half an hour later to say good-bye, and they appeared to be perfectly happy and contented. They “bowed and scraped” in the usual Abyssinian manner before they took their departure. “The tout” made some representation to Dupuis when he returned to camp; so I explained that the fellow was tipsy and troublesome, and he was sent about his business. I gathered that he asked leave to go, and hoped that he meant to quit us altogether, but found afterwards that he had only sought permission to spend the night in the town—over more tedj, of course. Dupuis paid no heed to what he was saying, so off he went, but came back in an unruffled mood, and full of complacency, on the following morning. I think Johannes gave us the explanation of his conduct—that he had orders from the Ras to make sure that we three Europeans should have as little intercourse as possible with the Habashes. That night the noise in our camp disturbed a hippo, whose resting-place in the reeds was close by. I heard him snorting loudly and angrily. He had a prescriptive right to quiet sleep in that place, and I felt that we were intruders upon the ancient order. The old-world life seemed to have a _raison d’être_ superior to that of a modern expedition, and though the hippo kept me awake, I sympathized with his indignation. He and his kind were prominent figures in the scene next morning (January 23). We counted five that were in sight together, and four were less than two hundred yards from the shore. After breakfast we visited the celebrated church of Korata. I am not sure that it is the only one in the place, but its reputation makes it _the_ church of Korata. We were told that a certain Frenchman had travelled from France expressly to see it; if he did, it will be owned that he was an exceptional Gaul, for the length and discomfort of his journey were out of all proportion to the satisfaction to be obtained at the end of it. The building—as my photograph of the exterior shows—is circular, with thatched walls, and in point of structure differs only in size from the village churches. It stands in a compound, surrounded by a rough stone wall. The entrances are two lich-gates, surmounted by thatched porticoes.