When we started, we entered a very dense part of the forest (“karága tsílim,” as the Kanúri say), with a rich variety of trees, but all of middle size, and not a single tamarind- or monkey-bread tree was to be seen. As we proceeded, however, the country became a little more open, the “karága tsílim” giving way to the “dírridé,” or clear forest, and signs of cultivation were seen. Here I observed that the clayey soil, or “ánge,” was intersected by small ridges, in order to retain the water, during the rainy season, for the cultivation of the másakuwá. Cotton also seemed to be cultivated to some extent. In this district too the villages contained a mixed population of Shúwa and Kanúri. The village Gujári, which we passed further on, was distinguished by an extensive pottery. Here the road was enlivened by a numerous caravan of pack-oxen laden with grain, on their way to Díkowa, the town described on my expedition to the Músgu country; for, as I have there stated, the cultivation of that place is almost entirely limited to cotton, while all the corn which is required for the consumption of the inhabitants is imported. The cotton is not carried by beasts of burden, but on the heads of the natives; and a little further on we met a numerous train of these people, whose appearance imparted some idea of industry. Passing on our road many patches of that black boggy soil, called “fírki” or “ánge,” which I have described on a former occasion, we reached the small village of Hókkum at about half-past eight in the morning. We had expressly chosen this road in order to avoid the wells of bitter water in the village Jémage, which lies on the southern road; but here we fared worse, for there was no water at all in the village, and we had to send to a great distance to get a small supply, the quality of which was anything but agreeable. This scarcity of water, however, seemed to arise only from the laziness of the inhabitants; for the wells are not more than three fathoms deep, and the floods of the lake themselves occasionally approach so near that it has been found necessary to protect the village on its north side by a dyke. Here we passed the heat of the day in the shade of a kórna-tree, the fruit of which, being just ripe, in want of some better indulgence, we did not despise. I was greatly surprised to observe here that salt is obtained by burning the dung of cattle. It is indeed very remarkable how the poorer people in Negroland endeavour to supply their want of this article, which in every stage of society has become such an essential ingredient of common diet.