All the huts had clay walls, which were from four to six inches thick, and had resisted the conflagration, the roofs, consisting of beams and reed, having fallen in. The diameter of the huts varied from eight to twelve feet. Each hut contained a large jar for holding water, and some had a peculiar fire-place, inclosed by separate walls, and not unlike an oven; but, although in general the arrangement of the huts was comfortable, I found the dwellings in other villages of this country far superior, nor did I observe here such large courtyards as I had seen elsewhere. In the centre of the village there were some extensive tanks, or pools of water, which seemed to be made by the hand of man. The whole encampment, or “ngáufate,” was surrounded with a strong fence of thorny bushes, rather for the purpose of preventing the slaves from escaping, than to defend the encampment against an enemy. Having wandered about amidst this scene of destruction, I went in the afternoon to the border of the “ngáljam,” which was enlivened by horses and cattle grazing, and people quietly reclining here and there or bathing in the water.[19] I then wandered along the bank to some distance, where the sheet of open water on this side was entirely interrupted, while on the other shore a considerable strip of water stretched out before the view. Here, in Démmo, the year 1852 opened to me, in the course of which I at that time entertained a hope of returning homewards, not fancying that I was to remain three years more in these barbarous countries, amidst constantly varying impressions of discovery, of disappointment, of friendly and hostile treatment, and under all sorts of affliction, distress, and sickness. Our stay here was varied by a few interesting incidents, one of which I will relate. The intriguing Shúwa chief Mʿallem Jýmma, whose ambitious designs did not allow him any rest, had not only persuaded the head man of Démmo, who had made his escape, but even the chief of the nearest village on the other side of the ngáljam, to make his subjection publicly, and to seek the protection of Bórnu. They were therefore introduced this day into the nógona or council, and threw dust upon their heads. But when they had to confirm their subjection by an oath, the pagan prince of Démmo indeed took an oath, raising a handful of earth, and allowing it to glide through his fingers, but the chief from the other side of the ngáljam refused to take the oath, under the pretext that this earth was not fit for his vow, not being his own soil; he said he must first bring a handful of earth from his own country. An oath taken upon earth that belonged to their native soil was also common among the ancients.