by my own Ababdes, as their own supply is small. I have, therefore, caused all the geerbahs to be carried into my tent. If we run short, and have to suffer, it shall not be for want of precautions. While my camel men were thus occupied, one of them asked me why I was subjecting myself to the danger and fatigue of such a journey, when I was rich enough to stay at home. The Arabs are now not so much surprised at travellers going to Wady Halfah. So many make that journey, that it is no longer a novelty; besides that, the Cangias (boats of the Nile), though any thing but agreeable to Europeans, appear luxurious to the peasants. They can easily conceive the pleasure of sailing in what they consider delightful conveyances, listening to the songs of the boatmen, smoking all the day, and eating and drinking of the best the villages can afford; but that travellers should voluntarily expose themselves to the fatigues and heat of the desert, apparently for the sake of a few old stones, is to them quite incomprehensible. _Desert.—Feb._ 17. A fearful accident has befallen us. To our utter dismay, four of our largest geerbahs are empty, the water having leaked out during the night. The skins are old, although the best we could procure at Assuan. The rest seem good: Heaven grant that they may prove so! the consequences of another such accident might be fatal. We have passed to-day the bodies of seven human beings who have doubtless recently perished from thirst and fatigue; we have seen also dead camels without number. We have travelled twelve hours through valleys of the same character as those we passed yesterday. Some of the hills might be from 230 to 250 feet in height, but the greater number from 100 to 150 feet. Many, like those of yesterday, are isolated, and some standing in the centre of the valleys. They consist chiefly of slate, but some are of sandstone. They are called Hojab el Jenous, from there being several representations of buffaloes drawn on the rocks by some rude artists, probably Arabs. The valleys are almost entirely covered with sand, on which I found many round balls, of the form of peaches, of iron glance. At sunset we left the valleys, the last hills of which are rather higher than the others, and are called Bab el Korosko, or the Gate of Korosko, and encamped behind a small hill, at the commencement of a large sandy plain, called Atmoor Bahr Bela Ma, that is, the sea without water. We have been twenty-two hours _en route_ in these valleys, which I consider not less than sixty miles, from the rate we have travelled. The Ababdes occasionally sing to animate their camels. The effect in accelerating their speed is quite extraordinary. First one camel-driver sings a verse, then the others answer in chorus. It reminded me somewhat of the Venetian gondoliers.[5] I noticed that they lingered near the bodies of the dead camels, being apparently more affected by them than by those of the slaves. The latter they perhaps knew not,