On our way hither the preceding day, we had been overtaken, near the village of Gandútan, by a band of some three or four Songhay people, who had rather a warlike and enterprising appearance, and were very well mounted. Having kept close to us for some time, and spoken a great deal about my arms, they had disappeared, but at a very early hour this morning, while it was yet dark, and we were getting our luggage ready for the day’s march, they again appeared and inspired my companions with some little fear, as to their ulterior intentions. They therefore, induced the chief of the Erátafáni to accompany us for a while, with some of his people on horseback; as they were well aware that the Songhay who at present have almost entirely lost their independence, cannot undertake any enterprise without the connivance of the Tawárek. But as for myself I was not quite sure who were most to be feared, our protectors, or those vagabonds of whom my companions were so much afraid; for although the chief himself seemed to be a respectable man, these people, who are of a mixed race of Tawárek and Songhay, do not appear to be very trustworthy, and I should advise any traveller in this region to be more on his guard against them than against the true Tawárek. But under the present circumstances when they accompanied us on the road, I thought it better to tell them plainly who I was, although my companions had endeavoured to keep them in the dark respecting my real character. They had taken me for a Ghadámsi merchant, who wanted to pass through their territory without making them a suitable present. After I had made this confession they became much more cheerful and openhearted, and we parted the best of friends. The cunning Wádáwi also contributed towards establishing with them a more intimate relation, by bartering his little pony for one of their mares. Nothing renders people in these countries so communicative, and at the same time allays their suspicions so much, as a little trading.