I quietly conversed with the people on my situation; and they behaved very friendly towards me, and advised me, if no news should arrive from the capital in the course of the day, to take the road by Kólle-Kólle, Márga, and Jógodé, a place which they represented as of considerable size, and thus to reach the river near the village of Klésem, from whence I might cross over to Kúsuri. I even obtained here some valuable information with regard to the river-system of Wádáy, from a Felláta[41], or Púllo, of the name of ʿAbd el Káder. I should have passed the day very comfortably, if a strong gale had not arisen about noon, and filled my tent with dust and sand. The sky was overcast; but there was no rain. A little after sunset, when the busy scene at the well had subsided, I measured the temperature of the water, and found it to be 86°·4 Fahr., which, if we consider it as nearly the mean temperature of the country, would give a very high standard for Bagírmi. The well was fifteen fathoms deep, the present temperature of the air being then 86°; at one o’clock P.M. it had been 99°·7. [Sidenote: April 17th.] Having passed rather an unpleasant night, the ground swarming with black ants (_termes mordax_), so that my camel, as well as my horse, moved restlessly about and disturbed our own slumber frequently, I set out early in the morning with confidence on my journey westward. Forest and cultivated ground alternately succeeded each other, the cultivation consisting, besides millet, of cotton and sesamum. Women were collecting the leaves of the hájilíj, from which, in the absence of the more esteemed leaves of the monkey-bread tree, to prepare the tasteless sauce used for their daily pudding. The hájilíj was the most predominant tree; besides it there was the tree called homaín by the Shúwa, which was at present leafless, but was covered with fruit about the size of an apricot, which, when ripe, is eaten by the natives. The tsáda also, with its cherry-like fruit, called by the Shúwa people ábú-déje, was frequent. My young Shúwa companion here called my attention to the honey-bird (_cuculus indicator_), called by his countrymen “shnéter,” and said to be a metamorphosed old woman searching after her young son, and calling him by name, “Shnéter, Shnéter!” All over Africa this little bird has given rise to a variety of the most curious tales, from the Hottentot country to the Somaul, and from the Somaul to the Jolóf.