THE NUBIAN FRONTIER. 151 My pathway was through those desolate hills, into the heart of Nubia, into the Desert, and the strange countries beyond, where so few had been before me. The vestibule was passed : Egypt lay behind me. The long landscape of the Nile was but the dromos to that temple of African life, whose adytum was still far in advance, deep in the fiery tropical silence of Ethiopia. While my blood thrilled at the prospect, and the thirst of adventure and discovery inspired me as the wind of the Desert inspires the Arab charger, I could not part with indifference from the man who had shared with me the first august impression, the sublime fascination of Egypt. Nor was the prospect of a solitary voyage back to Cairo at all cheering to him. Achmet would of course accompany me, and the cook, Salame, who knew barely twenty words of French and Italian, must perforce act as dragoman. My friend was therefore completely at the mercy of the captain and crew, and saw nothing but annoyance and embarrassment before him. I had much trust in Rais Hassan's honesty and good faith, and was glad to learn, several months afterwards, that his conduct had confirmed ii