the Legion of Honour. Haj Ahmed repudiates being a Sheikh most stoutly. Notwithstanding this repudiation, the Marabout is obliged to decide upon the affairs of the city, even when Shafou is in town. The Marabout pretends he does not receive presents like the Sheikhs, but he always received what I offered him, and which was more than what I gave to some of the Sheikhs. His palace stands west, two-thirds of a mile from the city walls. Here he reigns supreme, priest and king, as Melchisedech of patriarchal times, surrounded with his numerous family of wives and concubines, and about fifty male and female slaves. Some of the slaves live in huts near his palace, or in the gardens. The Marabout is the largest landed proprietor of Ghat, but he also trades a good deal, and is now sending some of his children to Soudan to trade in slaves. Yesterday evening Mohammed Kāfah sent me a bowl of sopped bread, fat, and gravy, garnished with two or three little pieces of meat. This is the first act and specimen of hospitality on the part of the townsmen. Kafah is a considerable merchant, and one of the three or four grandees of the place. Bel Kasem called out to me to-day, for he lives next door, "Yâkob! Yâkob! Aye! for God's sake, one of my slaves is ill, bring me some medicine to purge him, quick, quick, he'll die." I had nothing to give the poor creature but a worm-powder, ordering half the quantity, all my medicines being distributed, except those for the eyes. Undoubtedly many of the slaves must die before they arrive in Tripoli. They are mostly fed on dates, the profit of the commerce is so small as not to allow wholesome food being given them. The slaves are brought from countries teeming with plenty of meat, grain, and vegetables, whilst they are fed with herbage and dates _en route_ from Aheer to Ghat. What wonder then they die?