25th.—Christmas-day! My second Christmas day in Africa during this journey. We have nothing to make a merry day of; but we must try and cheer ourselves up by the thought that we are still spared, after passing through so many dangers, and amidst a people naturally hostile to us, and only softened by fear of the Turks, and by possession of the goods of the Government, which they have taken one way or other. Yet some of the people appear of a more kindly nature, and Overweg has experienced a little hospitality in the huts retired from the road, or sequestered in the surrounding valleys.

Gracious God! make us all thankful for health and strength: may we ever praise thy protecting care of us and our mission. For the sake of our Saviour, born on this day, pardon all our sins; give us grace to lead a new life, and a most willing mind to receive Jesus as the Lord our righteousness! O God, have mercy upon all our friends and relations, and give them the will to receive the Saviour, born on this day, as their only chance of salvation! O God, have mercy upon Africa, and on all men!

Some musicians came this morning to salute us with a little of their rough music, a drum and a clarionet. I gave them three rings and a little sugar. I have very little to bestow, and were I to be more generous, or to make an effort to give them anything like a Christmas gift, I should then have all the people upon me, begging everything I had left. Yesterday I spoke a few words to Hamma, son-in-law of En-Noor, and he immediately asked me for a turban. I had not spoken to him for several weeks, or only saluted him with a few words, in order to avoid his begging. This man has already had from me presents to the amount of fifty dollars! Thus I am cut off from all conversation with these people, and have no practice in speaking the languages of the interior. I must try to get on better than this. Overweg, as doctor, is better off. The sick, and the people who bring the sick, must talk to him, and must receive a favour from him. And he frequently gets a few cheeses in return. The women make extraordinary propositions. The other day they offered him a slave or a bullock for a medicine to produce a child.

The place of our encampment is called Bargot, which I believe is also the name of a well, near or about an hour and a-half distant. I have also heard the name of Bergu. Yesterday we passed some ruins of houses, built of stone and mud. I am glad that Barth borrowed my Bible, and is reading to-day. Overweg also was the first to propose prayers on Sundays when we are staying long together in one place.

We are now near the Hamadah, which is a journey of full four days without water. We arrive at the water on the morning only of the fifth day. I gave a Christmas-box to all the servants of the expedition, seven persons, each a cotton handkerchief and a ring. This is all I could spare. Yusuf had a silk handkerchief and no ring. The kind of ring esteemed here is one having a good imitation of a stone, and the metal is as good as gold for these people. With the exception of the Gatronee and my mahadee, the rest ill deserved their Christmas-box, but it is necessary to forget and to forgive. However, I am now more strict with them, as we are leaving the Tuaricks, amongst whom some of our servants became almost Tuaricks themselves in manners.

The Sultan of Asoudee is still with us, and keeps up a sort of state about him, although he is a poor weak fellow indeed, compared to En-Noor. He has not paid us a visit, and we have not seen him. En-Noor, probably, does not wish to bother us with such a visit. The musicians who saluted us this morning came from him, but they did not know it was a feast-day of Christians, and only came to pick up what they could get. I sent Madame En-Noor a piece of white loaf-sugar, and told her it was a Christmas-box. She received it with many thanks; so I have chronicled all our doings this day. I read the two first chapters of St. Luke in Arabic. We had no provisions, or anything with which we could produce the resemblance of a plum-pudding. As to roast beef, we have some bits of preserved beef, which we eat with our baseen and hamsa.

Amidst so many uncertainties in Central Africa we may not see another Christmas-day. O God! whenever the time of our departure is come, may we be found relying for salvation on that Saviour, thine only-begotten Son, born on this day.

Overweg and I conversed late at night on the mechanism of the heavens, and the antiquity of the world, according to the received theories of astronomers and geologists; the dark and black vault above, sprinkled over with brilliant points, being the object which first set our thoughts in motion. The stars are time itself, and also illustrations of the passage of light through the universe. The earth was once a hotter orb, passing successively from a vaporous to a fluid, and then a solid state. The northern climes were once torrid zones, from the evidence of the fossil remains and from coals, which are masses of tropical trees. Such were the speculations in which we indulged.[12]

26th.—We stay here to-day. There is some trouble amongst those restless tribes, the Kaltadak and Kalfadaï; and Yusuf was sent for this morning by En-Noor to write some letters for him to these marauding tribes. They are fighting amongst themselves. The route from the North will never be safe for Europeans until these tribes are properly subjugated; and when will that time come? It is now reported that we all go to Zinder. I shall be glad of this opportunity to get a few dollars, and then make the best of my way to Sakkatou. But our delay here renders this trip always less certain, and seems to point out that I shall go first to Bornou.

The most frequent parasitical plant, which is found upon nearly all the tholukhs, is called koushi in Haussa, and barango in Bornou. It is a fine plant, and its flower is not unlike the woodbine or honeysuckle, but devoid of all fragrance. The leaves are succulent, full of moisture, in shape a long oval, the longest not more than an inch and a quarter. This parasite also fastens itself on other trees, and often kills the branches from which it draws its strength—a real sap-sucker. The karembo frequently dies in its embraces.