On the morning of the 16th we again set forward, accompanied by a coffle of fourteen asses, loaded with salt, bound for Sansanding.  The road was particularly romantic, between two rocky hills; but the Moors sometimes lie in wait here to plunder strangers.  As soon as we had reached the open country the master of the salt coffle thanked us for having stayed with him so long, and now desired us to ride on.  The sun was almost set before we reached Datliboo.  In the evening we had a most tremendous tornado.  The house in which we lodged being flat-roofed, admitted the rain in streams; the floor was soon ankle-deep, the fire extinguished, and we were left to pass the night upon some bundles of firewood that happened to lie in a corner.

July 17.—­We departed from Datliboo, and about ten o’clock passed a large coffle returning from Sego with corn-hoes, mats, and other household utensils.  At five o’clock we came to a large village where we intended to pass the night, but the dooty would not receive us.  When we departed from this place my horse was so much fatigued that I was under the necessity of driving him, and it was dark before we reached Fanimboo, a small village, the dooty of which no sooner heard that I was a white man than he brought out three old muskets, and was much disappointed when he was told that I could not repair them.

July 18.—­We continued our journey, but, owing to a light supper the preceding night we felt ourselves rather hungry this morning, and endeavoured to procure some corn at a village, but without success.

My horse becoming weaker and weaker every day, was now of very little service to me; I was obliged to drive him before me for the greater part of the day, and did not reach Geosorro until eight o’clock in the evening.  I found my companions wrangling with the dooty, who had absolutely refused to give or sell them any provisions; and as none of us had tasted victuals for the last twenty-four hours, we were by no means disposed to fast another day if we could help it.  But finding our entreaties without effect, and being very much fatigued, I fell asleep, from which I was awakened about midnight with the joyful information Kinne nata! ("The victuals are come”) This made the remainder of the night pass away pleasantly, and at daybreak, July 19th, we resumed our journey, proposing to stop at a village called Doolinkeaboo for the night following.  My fellow-travellers, having better horses than myself, soon left me, and I was walking barefoot, driving my horse, when I was met by a coffle of slaves, about seventy in number, coming from Sego.  They were tied together by their necks with thongs of a bullock’s hide, twisted like a rope—­seven slaves upon a thong, and a man with a musket between every seven.  Many of the slaves were ill-conditioned, and a great number of them women.  In the rear came Sidi Mahomed’s servant, whom I remembered to have seen at the camp of Benowm.  He presently knew me, and told me that these slaves were going to Morocco by the way of Ludamar and the Great Desert.