kept in advance on the crests to show the bearings to the straggling company behind. Every one kept shouting and looking to the rear, lest the hindermost should be lost.

After two hours' struggle under the guidance of a sickly moon we entered a scrubby plain, and camped in the dark. The tent-pegs would barely hold, our horses were attached to little bushes, three fires were quickly lighted, dry grass (l'alpha or dreen, "Aristida pungens") was cut from the sparse tufts for fodder, when I discovered to my horror that but one feed of barley apiece was left for our poor beasts, who had two days' toil before them. Omar had professed to purchase two sacks before leaving Tuggurt, and, pointing to the baggage, had assured me of abundance, but it was in vain here to remonstrate with the rascally dragoman. While P. arranged the tent and I cooked the rice, Omar, instead of picketing the horses, was quietly making himself comfortable in his own tent. I boiled over at last he flew into a rage, threw down the tent, danced on it, broke the poles, until I dragged him off by the neck; when, seeking in vain for a knife, and imprecating everything on my head, he rushed forth into the darkness, but returned in an hour, the evil spirit having left him, as though nothing had happened. Having dined on rice and a barley-loaf steeped in coffee, we turned in, resolved on an early start for the morrow.

The day was breaking before the dawdling Bedouin had completed the loading. We went on in advance with one guide mounted on a dromedary, bearing our wraps, lest the camels should be sand-stayed another day on the route. At length we reached a higher range of sand-hills, called Sif Sultaun (the Sultan's sword). A cold sun glared through what appeared a

dark clouded sky, but which was in reality a sandstorm, penetrating everything, coating inside as well as outside of my spectacles, clotting the hair and beard, grating the skin through the inmost shirt, and choking mouth, ears, and nostrils. The horizon was dimmed by it on all sides-a bleak, miserable prospect, the colour of the stormy Atlantic.

About ten o'clock we halted for breakfast, under the partial shelter of a sand-wave and a bunch of retza. There was a little vegetation here, for a herd of gazelle approached almost within range, and an animal which must have been a wild ass sniffed at us from a distant hillock. We saw the convoy with the camels appearing in the rear, and mounted again. But the sand-hills. soon became looser and higher than before-now like a rolling ocean, broader and more formidable than those of yesterday. It was vain to think of remaining with the camels. Riding was impossible. We scaled and descended with difficulty. Often on rising to windward, plunging breast-high through the wave to what appeared the summit of a round-topped hill, we found the leeward side a perfect precipice of sand, down which man and horse would roll hopelessly engulfed, and we had to wend our cautious way on the crest till we could scramble down with less certain overthrow.

It is this part of the desert which M. Berbrugger, who had preceded us in the disguise of an Arab, told me he found the most toilsome of his many journeys. We struggled forward, scanning from each height the distant prospect, yet still the ocean rolled. The mamelons became mountains. We were scarcely able to lead our hungry and panting horses across those soft masses. It was heavy exercise, laden as we were with game-bags, pistols, shot and powder flasks, and heavy clothing.

Forwards still we must plunge, lest we be caught by nightfall in this wilderness. The sun is fast setting, but the moon rises palely, coquetting with a little shivering star, and we pertinaciously stumble on. At length, from an eminence, we catch a glimpse of palmtrees far ahead. We are told we are in the oasis of Souf. We descend into a comparative plain, and arrive at some scanty palm-groves, and houses fenced with stalks of djereed. We rouse a native to show us the easiest route, who goodnaturedly performs the task by climbing sharp banks of sand, along which we scramble dismounted, now traversing a white plain dotted with luxuriant palm-groves, now breasting rolling hills, till we reach Kouinin, the first village of the group.

Here we were told we were two hours' ride from El Oued, the capital. Dismounting Omar, we sent the marabout's steward on our brown horse to announce our arrival, and spurred after him as best we might. It was nine o'clock as we entered El Oued. Hedged tents with flickering fires, and masses of low buildings, extended far on the left. Presently we saw in the gloom two horsemen approaching. It was the khalifat himself, roused from his bed, who dismounted and greeted us hospitably, remounted, and curvetted in advance, while his attendant, endeavouring to imitate the movements of his lord, turned his saddle and came abruptly to the ground.

A hundred yards more brought us to the gate of the kasbah, a large square loopholed enceinte, divided into two courtyards, and a square redoubt at each corner. We passed under a wide archway, and joyfully dismounted. We then, through another archway, entered a pillared chamber open at either end, resembling the better class of eastern caravanserais. On each side of it was a leewan or raised platform, behind rows of