When at length, on Thursday morning, we fairly began our journey, we followed entirely our old road, Hámma being anxious to get home; but nevertheless, as the mountains and ridges which characterize this region now met the eyes from the other side, the scenery was a good deal varied, and I had frequent opportunities of completing my map of this part of the country. Besides, we chose our encampments in new localities; and many little incidents varied our journey, the most interesting of which was the approach of a party of five lions in the valley Búdde, when Hámma called us to arms. He, Rábbot, Mohammed, and I advanced to meet them, but they soon turned their backs, leaping over the rocky ground towards their mountain-retreat. The lion of Aïr does not seem to be a very ferocious animal, and, like those of all this border-region of the desert, has no mane—that is to say, as compared with other lions. The maneless lion of Guzerat is well known, but a similar species seems also to occur in Sind and Persia. The lion of Central Africa, at least of Bórnu and Logón, has a beautiful mane; and the skin of a lion of that region, which I took with me on my journey to western Sudán, excited the admiration of all who saw it. The valley Tíggeda had now a very different aspect from that which it wore when we were going to Ágades; for while at that time, beautiful as it was, it was not enlivened by a single human being, now at its very head we met a considerable caravan of Kél-owí laden with salt, and accompanied by a herd of young camels to be bartered in the market of Ágades for corn, and further on we found a herd of from sixty to seventy head of cattle, and numerous flocks of goats, indulging in the rich herbage which had previously excited my astonishment. Our minds likewise were here excited by the important news that the old chief of Tintéllust had started for Sudán, not only with my fellow-travellers, but with the whole caravan; but while my fiery and frivolous Mohammed heaped conjecture upon conjecture, meditating how we should be able to reach them, Hámma, who knew his father-in-law better, and who was conscious of his own importance and dignity, remained incredulous. We had some very pretty mountain-views from this side, especially when we approached Mount Eghellál, behind which the Búnday and other mountains rose into view. On the morning of the 5th of November, which was to be the day of our arrival in Tintéllust, it was so cold that we started rather late, Hámma simply declaring that the cold did not allow him to go on— “Dári yahánna fataúchi.” Having started at length, we made a long day’s march; and after eleven hours and a half travelling reached the well-known sand- hill opposite Tintéllust, where our encampment had stayed so long, not by the great road along the valley, but by “The Thief’s Passage,” in order to observe before we were observed.