Am obliged to keep the door shut to prevent people from rushing into the house by twenties and fifties at once. The Governor has sent strict orders to his slaves to keep the door shut, first, to prevent me from being pestered to death all day long, and, secondly, because some of the people have got the habit here, as in Europe, of picking up little things. A young slave is crying out, "Bago! bago!" every five minutes, in answer to knocking at the door to see The Christian, which we interpret in European phrase more politely, "Not at home," but which signifieth in the original Housa, "No, no." However, a troop of the lower class of Touaricks managed to squeeze in as some of our people went out, but I got rid of them without angry words.

A Ghadamsee resident here, came in to-day, with a severe gash on his hands, and one of his fingers, to ask my advice and beg medicine. The gash was inflicted upon him whilst at prayer, by a vagabond Touarghee. The assailant alleged as the reason of his violent act, that the Ghadamsee had called him a thief amongst the people, adding, that he (the Touarghee) had stolen two skin-bags out of a house. For such violence, such a daring act perpetrated on a man whilst in the solemn performance of prayer, our Marabout Governor was obliged to give satisfaction to the injured party. His Excellency stripped the house of the Touraghee of all his little property, turned him out into the street, and ordered him immediately to leave Ghat. To the honour, and humanity, and morality of the inhabitants of this part of The Sahara, such acts of violence are extremely rare. The Ghadamsee had poulticed his hand with wet clay and camel's dung. I recommended a bread poultice, but he kept to his day and camel's dung. The Saharans mostly prefer their own remedies, though they may condescend to ask you your advice. Bought some olive oil from the Arabs of Gharian. Before pouring it out they wished me to put sugar in the measure. I suspected some trick, and refused. As soon as the measure was out of my servant's hand, they seized it, some licking it, others rubbing their hands in it, and then oiling their bread. They wanted to have a lick at the sugar, which would have settled down at the bottom; and were very angry with me because I did not take their advice of improving the oil with my sugar. These Arabs are really more greedy and rapacious than the Touaricks. The difference is, the Arabs are near Tripoli, see Europeans, and learn to be more polite to us than the Touaricks can well be.

A son of the Governor recited to me the following famous distich, begging me to tell him what it meant:—

"Tummora, tummora, tera, Buon giorno, buona sera."

On inquiring how he learned it, he told me a Moor of Tripoli taught it him. This seems to be the extent of European literature acquired by the Ghateen.

23rd.—Continue to have pains in my stomach, and feel very weak. Am undecided whether I shall go or not to Soudan. However, Haj Ibrahim has kindly offered to let me have twenty-five dollars' worth of goods on credit, which, in the case of my going, will relieve me from every embarrassment as to money for the present, until I can get a remittance from Tripoli, for these twenty-five dollars will furnish the presents and expenses of the route, and allow me to retain some twenty or thirty dollars in my pocket. The reader will and must smile at this mighty statement of my financial affairs, worthy of a Desert Budget!

Essnousee called. Ouweek is a personal friend of his; Essnousee says:—"Ouweek has told us, he feared from you (myself), for the English had never before been in his district. For the rest, he was only playing with you. He wished to see whether an Englishman was a man of courage. This you proved to be, for you sat down and ate dates and biscuit whilst he was threatening to kill you. It also proved that you knew that he (Ouweek) was playing with you, for how could you eat dates if you thought he was going to kill you." This is Ouweek's defence about town. I heard also a curious version about the slave who ran to the horse. Zaleâ says, the slave ran there to get Ouweek farther from me, giving me an opportunity, if I chose, of escaping to Ghat. This affair still occupies public attention, but Ouweek keeps his present, and evidently will not restore it despite the threats of Jabour. Essnousee tells me not to be afraid of Ouweek, for he has influence with the Sheikh.

A Souk of little things has just been opened, and provisions, with all sorts of small articles, the manufacture of Soudan and Aheer, are exposed for sale in the public square. Formerly, these matters were purchased at private houses. This is a step in the march of Saharan commerce.

Yesterday evening, the poor slaves danced and sung till midnight in the public squares. Ever-pitying Providence, so permits an hour of gaiety to suffering humanity, under circumstances the most adverse to happiness! The slaves of the caravan are, a few of them, permitted to join those of the town, and the exiled slaves sometimes obtain intelligence in this way of their country. Generally the slaves imported are from such a variety of districts in Negroland, and so widely apart, that the slaves of The Sahara can hear little of their native homes. I asked Bel Kasem, if the slaves of the Ghafalah were prisoners of war. "No," he replied, "there is no war now in Soudan; these are captured with matchlocks at night by robbers (sbandout); the negro is frightened out of his wits at the sound of fire-arms."

Afternoon there was a tremendous hubbub in the public square or market-place, the Negresses flying in all directions from the scene of tumult. One of Haj Ahmed's negresses comes running to me: "Shut the door, shut the door, the world is upset, the world is upset! Haj Ahmed, my master, is no Sheikh, no Sultan. He can't keep the people quiet. I'm going, I'm going." "Where are you going?" "I'm going to another and quieter country, to Haj Ahmed, my master, to tell him the news." This is a very lively negress, her tongue never stops; she retails all the news of the country to me, and is a great politician in her way. Some of these Ghat negresses are actually witty, and crack jokes with the grave Touaricks. The Touaricks are too gallant to be offended with the freedom of even female slaves. I felt somewhat alarmed, thinking the discomfitted party might come and avenge their defeat upon the unlucky Christian stranger. We barricaded the door, and kept quiet, anxiously waiting the result, as people do in Paris, when an emeute is being enacted for the especial benefit of the Parisians. Afterwards I learnt the particulars of this strange tumult. There is an old half-cracked Sheikh, who goes every day into the public square, and strikes his spear into the ground, and retiring at a distance, exclaims aloud to all present, "Whoever dares to touch that spear I'll kill him!" To-day a young Touarick passed by, and seeing the spear sticking up very formidably, as if challenging all-passers by, went near it, and said, "What's this?" and took hold of it. The crazy Sheikh was watching at some distance, and now was his opportunity to show the people his determined will and resolution. He rushes at the lad with his dagger in hand. In an instant the whole place is in wild tumult, cries and shouts rend the air, with a forest of spears brandishing over the heads of Touaricks, Arabs, Moors, slaves, men, women, and children, mingling together, and running over one another in a frightful melée. The boy is rescued, the people resume their lounging seats, the storm drops to a dead calm, and nobody is hurt, not even scratched. Such is a row amongst these untutored children of The Desert. How different to the Thuggee rows now being enacted in Ireland!