We rested in the shade, and ate, and drank, and slept, until the heat of the sun diminished, and the shadows were lengthening, when we were ordered to mount our camels. The Wadaïans surrounded us, and we marched rapidly until dark, when we reached the residence of the governor. This residence had a court nearly as large as the Roumeileh, one of the great squares of Cairo. We were placed in one corner, and soon after we had arranged our baggage were called, to be presented to the Aguid. They took us to the principal hut in the centre of the enclosure, where we were told to sit down opposite a partition made of reeds. Some one came out and said the Aguid salutes you. We returned the salute, and the governor himself, from behind the partition which separated him from us, said: “Who may you be, and wherefore do you come to Wadaï? whence do you come, and what merchandise do you bring?” We answered appropriately, and were then told that we might consider ourselves as the guests of the Sultan, who was to be immediately apprised of our arrival. A courier was, indeed, immediately despatched to the capital, and we waited patiently under the protection of the governor of the eastern province for seven days, during which food was given us. On the eighth day the messenger returned, accompanied by a troop of horsemen. They had with them a wooden tambourine, the sound of which may be heard at a great distance, and straight trumpets, at least three cubits in length, which produce a strong sound. As they approached the village the troop announced itself by this curious music. The Aguid, with all his people, went out to receive it. The bells hung at the necks of the horses jingled. I noticed particularly that every steed had a housing of red leather.