The encampment of Sídi Ílemín was large, consisting of very spacious leathern tents, where Tawárek and Fúlbe, and some Arabs also, were living together in peaceful community. Although they are tolerably wealthy, they have only asses, and no horses. A good many Tawárek joined us here the day of our arrival, and, while I rewarded the most respectable amongst them with a small present of some kind or other, I had some difficulty in satisfying a more powerful lord of the name of Míki, the son of Elésa; and found it still more difficult to satisfy his companion, or “énhad,” who, as is very often the case in Europe, raised his pretensions much higher than his master. The blind Simsim also accompanied us to this place, and troubled me not a little with begging a remedy for his blindness. Among other chiefs, there was one whose name seemed to me rather remarkable, as he called himself El Ísfaháni; but what he or his ancestors had to do with the famous town of Ísfahán, I could not make out. Sídi Ílemín treated us well with a number of large dishes of rice, but the food being prepared without any salt, I was not able to enjoy it, and was the more grateful at being furnished in the evening with a rich supply of milk. [Sidenote: Saturday, June 3rd.] While my protector directed his steps towards the desert, I, with the greater part of his followers, continued my journey along the banks of the river, which had now almost become a second home to me, and with its many backwaters, islands, and cliffs, afforded me a never failing source of interest. About half a mile beyond our encampment we passed the site of a former settlement or dwelling place, after which the sandy downs receded a little from the bank, affording comfortable ground for a good number of Tawárek encampments. Having then left on our right an extensive swampy lowland, which, during the highest state of the river, becomes inundated, we reached the beginning of the rocky district, through which the river has to pass. After a very short march, we encamped in a place called Himberímme, on account of the indisposition of my friend Mohammed ben Khottár. The slope where we halted was very handsomely adorned with fine shady tabórak, and the river was here free from rocks, being divided into two branches by a low sand bank, while a mile higher up a mighty ledge of granite rocks projected into the water. But about 1000 yards below our halting place, the river presented a very wild aspect, a considerable rocky island, consisting of immense granite blocks, together with a rocky ledge projecting from the high bank, shutting in half the breadth of the river, and forcing it, with a direction from S. 30° E. to N. 30° W., into a channel of probably not more than 350 yards broad. This remarkable place, where the river, when it is full, must form a very powerful current, is called Tin-álshiden.