CAMEL-DRIVERS AND NEGROES. 
23 
had been seventy days on their way from Ghat, in- 
cluding, however, thirty-four days of rest. Most 
of these poor wretches had performed journeys on 
their way to bondage which would invest me with 
imperishable renown as a traveller could I accom- 
plish them. 
The caravan was soon lost to view as it wound 
along the track by which we had come. This day 
was exceedingly hot, whereas the previous days had 
reminded us of a cool summer in England. The 
nights have hitherto been clear, and the zodiacal 
light is always brilliant. Our blacks keep up pretty 
well. There are now nine of them ; five men, three 
women, and a boy. They eat barley-meal and oil, 
and now and then get a cup of coffee. I also feed 
the Fezzanee marabout, besides those specially at- 
tached to the expedition. As to the camel-drivers, 
they are an ill-bred, disobliging set, and I give 
them nothing extra. How different are our negroes ! 
They are most cheerful. As we proceed, they 
run hither and thither collecting edible herbs ; and, 
like children, making the way more long in their 
sport. Sometimes their amusements are less plea- 
sant, and they seem systematically to take refuge 
from emmi in a quarrel. Two of them began to pelt 
each other with stones to-day ; allies dropped in on 
either side ; laughter was succeeded by execrations ; 
and the whole caravan at length came to loggerheads. 
The sidr, or lote-tree, is abundant in these 
parts, and it is curious to notice how in the spring 
