negroes, in the horrors of despair, had put an end to their miseries by ripping open their abdomina with their double-edged knives, the small body of survivors delivered itself up to the enemy. Of more than two thousand souls, one thousand and forty-nine were only found living, the rest had all perished by thirst, or had committed suicide. On entering the village, the huts were seen filled with the dead, and the few unfortunate survivors were so exhausted by fatigue, and overpowered by thirst, that they could scarcely stand upon their feet; yet with blows with the butt-end of the musket, or with the whip, these poor wretches were driven from the huts, dragged into camp, with every description of cruelty, and thence despatched for Lobeid, on which march more than one hundred and fifty souls perished from ill-usage. On the fourth day of the march of this transport, after the caravan had halted, and whilst the prisoners were forming detachments to take up their quarters for the night, it so happened that an aged woman, worn out with the fatigues of the long march, or overcome by the mental sufferings she had endured, was incapable of reaching the spot assigned to her with sufficient alacrity, and a barbarous Turk dealt her a blow with the butt end of his musket, which laid her nearly lifeless on the sand. Her son, who witnessed this gratuitous act of cruelty, no longer master of his feelings, rushed with fury towards the soldier, struck him a blow with the sheba round his neck, and felled him to the ground. This was the signal for attack; all the slaves, who bore a sheba, threw themselves upon the troops, and knocked them down, before they could take to their arms, or fix their bayonets; thus fifty-six negroes took to flight during the confusion in the camp, and aided by the darkness of night, succeeded in effecting their escape. The natives, attached to this transport, remained quiet spectators of the fray, a proof of the interest they feel in these sanguinary hunts.