Altogether I was so much pleased with the character of the place, that on expressing my satisfaction to one of the inhabitants who came to salute my companion, with the words, “Átema bílla ngílla,” “This is a fine town,” he replied, with conscious pride, “Áte bílla déka gení, áte bílla maíwa,” “This is not a country town; this is a royal residence.” We reached the gate on the north-west side of the town, just at the moment when ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, the eldest brother of the sheikh ʿOmár, arrived with a party of horsemen. What his business was I do not know; but before the expedition left the town, there had been a great many unfavourable rumours concerning his ambitious designs, and the malcontents expected that he would avail himself of this opportunity for striking a blow at the vizier, in order to prevent the expedition from proceeding against Mándará, as he himself was supposed to be on friendly terms with the chief of that country. But whatever may have been his intentions, he found his rival still too strong; and, after a friendly parting from his brother, he retraced his steps. The view over the encampment, which presented itself when from the north I turned to the south-west side of the town, was extremely interesting; and I kept along the higher ground formed by the rubbish which had accumulated at the foot of the wall. Tents of every description and size—light sheds constructed with the long stalks of Indian corn, supported by four poles, and connected lightly at the top and forming high-topped gables—horses and men, all in the greatest confusion, presented a busy scene of animated life; but the place where our tents were pitched had become so confined, that I was glad to avail myself of any opportunity which presented itself of roving about in the neighbourhood. The most attractive place was the komádugu, or water-course, which passes at some distance to the south of the town, and is distinguished by the special name of Yálowe. It was a very charming spot, winding along through a rich and varied forest, bordered by an uninterrupted line of the finest fig-trees, principally of the kind called “ngábore.” The channel itself was only about forty yards wide, encompassed by banks of from twelve to fifteen feet in height, and at present it was not enlivened by a continuous stream, but contained several detached pools of stagnant water. Although the water was cool, and not disagreeable to the taste, still it was not very pure, and could not but contain the germs of much disease. This is the same komádugu with which, in its upper course in the territory of Ujé, I had become acquainted on my journey to Ádamáwa.[13] The banks all around were enlivened by horses and pack-oxen, who were enjoying the rich verdure; and there was not a shady tree but had been taken possession of by a troop of Kánembú or Kanúri, in order to find that comfortable repose which the noisy encampment could not afford.