While the caravan was going slowly on, I was enabled to allow my méheri a little feeding on the nesí (_Panicum grossularium_, much liked by camels) in a spot called Tahasása. At noon we began to ascend on rocky ground, and, after a very gradual ascent of three miles, reached the higher level, strewn with pebbles, but exhibiting further on a rugged slaty soil, till we reached the valley Fénorang.[94] This valley, which is a little less than a mile in breadth and two in length, is famous for its rich supply of herbage, principally of the kind called bú-rékkeba, and the far-famed el hád (the camel’s dainty), and is on this account an important halting-place for the caravans coming from the north, after having traversed that naked part of the desert, which produces scarcely any food for the camel. Notwithstanding, therefore, the danger which threatened us, it was determined to remain here not only this, but also the following day. As soon as the loads were taken off their backs, the half-starved camels fell to devouring eagerly the fine herbage offered them. Meanwhile we encamped as close together as possible, preparing ourselves for the worst, and looking anxiously around in every direction. But nobody was to be seen till the evening, when the three men on their mehára made their appearance, and, being allowed to approach the caravan, made no secret of the fact that a greater number was behind them. Aware of what might happen, our small troop had all their arms ready, in order to repulse any attack; but the Kél-owí and the few Azkár who were in our caravan kept us back, and, after a little talk, allowed the visitors to lie down for the night near our encampment, and even solicited our hospitality in their behalf. Nevertheless all of them well knew that the strangers were freebooters, who could not but have bad designs against us; and the experienced old Awed el Khér, the sheikh of the Káfila, came expressly to us, warning and begging us to be on our guard, while Bóro Serki-n-turáwa began to play a conspicuous part, addressing the Kél-owí and Tinýlkum in a formal speech, and exhorting them to stand by us. Everybody was crying for powder; and nobody could get enough. Our clever but occasionally very troublesome servant Mohammed conceived a strategical plan, placing on the north side of the two tents the four pieces of the boat, behind each of which one of us had to take his station in case of an attack. Having had some experience of freebooters’ practices in my former wanderings, I knew that all this was mere farce and mockery, and that the only way of ensuring our safety would have been to prevent these scouts from approaching us at all. We kept watch the whole night; and of course the strangers, seeing us well on our guard, and the whole caravan still in high spirits and in unity, ventured upon nothing.