In many villages a market is held once a week, when every inhabitant must provide himself with supplies for the whole week, as nothing is to be purchased on the intervening days; this rule applies more especially to tobacco, an article of consumption which ranks, with many natives, before food. As a proof of this assertion I may, perhaps, be allowed to mention the following occurrence:—In a village where a market is generally held every week, a fire broke out and burnt the hut of an old man to the very ground. The proprietor stood quietly looking on at a distance, and consoled himself with an exclamation of “Allah-Kerim” (God is merciful); he then approached me, and I, expecting to hear a dismal tale, had a trifling present in readiness for him, but greatly was I astonished when he refused the present, and begged of me to give him merely a handful of tobacco, as his whole supply was consumed in the conflagration. The natives of Kordofan are a very good tempered people, and the traveller meets everywhere with a kind and hospitable reception. If he arrive at midday, or in the evening in a village, he has only to choose a hut, which the inhabitant immediately quits, leaving it entirely at the disposal of his guest. The natives content themselves, in the meantime, with being quartered on their next neighbours, or they will pass the whole time, if the weather permit it, in the open air. If he do not despise their fare, he will not have a _sous_ of outlay, neither for himself, his servant, nor for his camels, who find their food close to the village. The inhabitants perform all the services he may require willingly, and without the slightest contradiction, and he will hear nothing of the “backsheesh,” so troublesome among the Egyptians. The only custom which the stranger will find a nuisance, are the visits with which he is honoured in great numbers soon after his arrival. The judge, and persons of influence in the village, enter the hut, whilst the rest encamp around it in the open air. The ceremonies commence with greetings, and then a hundred questions are asked, as, whence he came? where he is travelling to? what has befallen him on the road? whether he have heard of any fresh war, and the like? in fact they scarcely allow him time to breathe, and he has barely answered one question before a hundred fresh inquiries are made. The servant has to suffer more even than the master from their importunities; for they endeavour to obtain all possible information indirectly from him. They ask him who the stranger is? whether he is a person of consideration? to which nation he belongs? and anything else, in fact, they may deem worthy of knowing. If they hear that he is a Frank, then the conflux becomes great indeed. All the sick persons in the village are dragged into his presence, and he is entreated to give advice and medicine. Protestations to the effect that he is no medical man are of no use, for a Frank must be a hakkim,