No sooner did I approach the camp than three large dogs rushed upon me, tore my garments and bit me in several places. I cried aloud to the Berbers for assistance, but these unfeeling wretches carelessly looked on or turned away with the utmost indifference: assailed by so many enemies I found the combat very unequal; and, for fear of being torn in pieces, sounded a retreat, still sustaining some bites as I retired: the dogs carried off some pieces of my dress as trophies, and did not leave me till I was at a considerable distance from their tents. Heartily cursing the inhumanity of their masters, I returned sorrowfully to our own camp under the date-trees. The Berbers keep a great number of dogs to watch their flocks, and they are so accustomed not to suffer the approach of any stranger whatsoever to the habitations of which they are left in charge, that the fear of being devoured by them serves as a wholesome restraint upon the depredations of those robbers by whom the country is so much infested. The Berbers themselves dare not approach without caution the camps of their own tribe to which they are strangers; but, if business obliges them to repair thither, they take the following method to escape the fury of these pitiless guardians. The visiter advances slowly, and makes a circuit round the tents at a considerable distance; the dogs begin to bark, without advancing on account of the distance; as soon as the owners of the tents shew themselves, he acquaints them with the object of his coming, when they are anxious to satisfy him; if he applies for hospitality, supper is spread for him on a mat at a short distance from the tents, which no one is ever allowed to enter.