ABSTRACT

The last night or two I had found it very cold, and the wind too high for tents, I may observe here, conveniently, the cold was so great in this portion of Sahara, that I never could undress myself for dread of the cold. After loosening my neckcloth and shoes, I lay down in the dress which I wore during the day. My bed was a simple mattress laid over a piece of matting, which latter was spread on the hard earth or sands of The Desert, as it might be, with a small sofa cushion for a pillow. After I had laid down the mattress, I then covered myself up with a large woollen barracan or blanket, very thick and heavy, and over this was also drawn a darkblue European cloak. The cloth distinguished my bed from those of the merchants, and the nagah always knew the encampment by the sight of this Christian garment. When I wore it in the day she was immediately sensible of the presence of her master. I did not pitch a tent, for we could not, but formed a sort of

head-place of the two panniers of the camel, OYer which we arranged camel's gear, forming a small top. Under this I placed or poked my head, so that, at night, if turning over my face, I found a little shelter from the naked cold heavens. In this way I lay enveloped in a mass of clothing. I usually waked a couple of hours before daybreak with the intensity of the cold. Said slept closely by me on a lion's skin, and rolled himself up in the slight canvass of the tent. Like myself he never undressed himself at night. When he wished to confer a favour upon any of his negro countrymen, or the poor slaves, he would take them and roll them up with him in this canvass. He would have sometimes half a dozen at once with him, the confined air of their united breathings keeping them mutually warm. The poor Arab camel-drivers had nothing but their barracans which they wore in the day to cover themselves up at night, whilst the bare earth was their couch of down, and a heap of stones their luxurious pillow. All these Arabs were wandering wayfaring Jacobs of The Desert. El-Aishi says, speaking of the bleak wind of The Desert, " The north wind blows in these places with an intensity equalling the cold of hell; language fails me to express this rigorous temperature." The Mohammedans believe that the extremes of heat and cold meet in hell. Some have thought there is an allusion to this in the words, " Weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth," (the teeth chattering from cold.) Milton has also enumerated cold as one of the torments of the lost. The tormented spirits passed-

I had not been many minutes in my new apartment before the Governor himself came in. I had been addressing the young Ghatee as the Governor himself, like Goldsmith harangued a duke's footman for the duke himself. Haj Ahmed, his father, welcomed me with every demonstration of hospitality. He sat chatting with me until the arrival of the Sheikh Jabour, who also welcomed me in the most friendly manner. This was the Sheikh who had dispatched his slave to the well of Tadoghseen to meet me. Two or three other Touaricks of distinction came in with my friend Essnousee. They then questioned me upon the conduct of Ouweek, the news of which had now spread over all the town, and thanking Jabour for sending his slave, he replied, smiling, " Ouweek was joking with you." And then all joined in a laugh about Ouweek's affair. Jabour, ashamed of the business, took this method of easing my mind. The Governor now began to ask me about news and politics, and how Muley Abd Errahman was getting on with the French. The burning of the French steamer on the coast of Morocco after she grounded, had been transformed by The Desert reports into a victory over the French, in which the French had lost 70,000 men and several ships. The Governor had also heard the Maroquine war had recommenced. I excused my ignorance by saying, I had been a long time in Ghadames, and had heard nothing. Odd enough, the Governor asked me, " Which was the oldest dynasty in Europe V I told him the Bourbons of France. The Sheikh Jabour here interposed, that his family was more than three thousand years old! The pride of an hereditary noblesse is deeply

rooted in these Touarghee chiefs. The love of ancestral distinction is co-extensive with the human race. I have giyen but the substance of our conversations. I give some of it in detail:—

Interrogation, by the Governor.