OLD ACQUAINTANCES AT KOKOSKO. 499 dromedary for the long inarch through the Nubian Desert.

There was also the corner by which I turned into the mountain-pass, and took leave of the Nile. I recognized all these points with a grateful feeling that my long wandering in Central Africa was over, without a single untoward incident to mar my recollection of it. I had my pipe and carpet brought under the shade of the sycamore, while Achmet went up to the Governor's house, with the rais and one of the boys. Before long, the latter appeared with his shirt full of pigeons (for I had not forgotten the delicious roast pigeons we took from Korosko into the Desert), then the rais with my sack of charcoal, the Governor having only used about one-third of it during my absence, and finally the Governor himself. Moussa Effendi shook me cordially by the hand and welcomed me many times, thanking God that I had returned in safety. We sat on my carpet, talked for an hour about my journey, took coffee, and I then left the worthy man and his wretched village, more delighted at having seen them again than I can well express.

The same evening, the wind veered to the north-west, nearly at right-angles to our course, and just at dusk, as the rais and Ali were rowing vigorously to keep the boat on the western side of the river (the other being full of dangerous reefs), the rope which held the long oar in its place broke, and ' Ali tumbled heels over head into the wooden cooking bowl of the rais. The wind carried us rapidly towards the opposite shore, and while Ali and Lalee were trying to fix the oar in its place, we heard the water roaring over the rocks. " 0 Prophet ! " "0 Apostle ! " « Prophet of God, help us ! '' were the exclamations of the rais, but little black 'Med Roo-