There was also an abundance of animal life of a less agreeable description: three scorpions were killed in the tent; and a fierce but beautiful panther, more than eight feet long, just as he had gorged himself by sucking the blood of a newly-killed negro, was attacked and speared. The sultan and Barca Gana were attended by a considerable body of Bornou and Mandara cavalry, whose brilliant armour, martial aspect, and skilful horsemanship, gave confidence to the European officer, who had not yet seen them put to the proof.

It was the third day when the expedition came in view of the Fellata town of Dirkulla. The Arabs, supported by Barca Gana and about a hundred spearmen, marched instantly to the attack, and carried first that place, and then a smaller town beyond it, killing all who had not time to escape. The enemy, however, then intrenched themselves in a third and stronger position, called Musfeia, enclosed by high hills, and fortified in front by numerous swamps and palisades. This was likewise attacked, and all its defences forced. The guns of the Arabs spread terror, while Barca Gana threw eight spears with his own hand, every one of which took effect. It was thought that, had the two bodies of cavalry made even a show of advancing, the victory would have been at once decided; but Major Denham was much surprised to see those puissant warriors keeping carefully under cover behind a hill on the opposite side of the stream, where not an arrow could reach them. The Fellatas, seeing that their antagonists were only a handful, rallied on the tops of the hills, were joined by new troops, and turned round. Their women behind, cheering them on,

continually supplied fresh arrows, and rolled down fragments of rock on the assailants. These arrows

were fatal; they were tipt with poison, and, wherever they pierced, the body in a few hours became black, blood gushed from every orifice, and the victim expired in agony. The condition of the Arabs soon became alarming; scarcely a man was left unhurt, and their horses were dying under them. Boo Khalloom and his charger were both wounded with poisoned arrows. As soon as the Fellatas saw the Arabs waver, they dashed in with their horse; at sight of which all the heroic squadrons of Bornou and Mandara put spurs to their steeds, the sultan at their head, and the whole became one mass of confused and tumultuous flight. Major Denham saw too late the peril into which he had wantonly plunged. His horse, pierced to the shoulder-bone, could scarcely support his weight; but the cries of the pursuing Fellatas still urged him forward. At last the animal fell twice, and the second time threw him against a tree, then, frightened by the noise behind, started up and ran off. The Fellatas were instantly up, when four of his companions were stabbed beside him, uttering the most frightful cries. He himself was fully prepared for the same fate; but happily his clothes formed a valuable booty, through which the savages were loath to run their spears. After inflicting some slight wounds, therefore, they stripped him to the skin, and forthwith began to quarrel about the plunder. While they were thus busied, he contrived to slip away, and though hotly pursued, and nearly overtaken, succeeded in reaching a mountain-stream gliding at the bottom of

a deep and precipitous ravine. Here he had snatched the young branches issuing from the stump of a large overhanging tree, in order to let himself down into the water, when, beneath his hand, a large liffa, the most dangerous serpent in this country, rose from its coil, as in the very act of darting upon him. Struck with horror, Major Denham lost all recollection, and fell headlong into the water; but the shock revived him, and, with three strokes of his arm, he reached the opposite bank, and felt himself for the moment in safety. Running forward, he was delighted to see his friends Barca Gana and Boo Khalloom; but amid the cheers with which they were endeavouring to rally their troops, and the cries of those who were falling under the Fellata spears, he could not for some time make himself heard. Then Maramy, a negro appointed by the sheik to attend on him, rode up and took him on his own horse. Boo Khalloom ordered a burnouse to be thrown over him,-very seasonably, for the burning sun had begun to blister his naked body. Suddenly, however, Maramy called out, See, see! Boo Khalloom is dead!" and that spirited chief, overpowered by the wound of a poisoned arrow, dropped from his horse, and spoke no more. The others now thought only of pressing their flight, and soon reached a stream, where they refreshed themselves by copious draughts, and a halt was made to collect the stragglers. Major Denham here fell into a swoon; during which, as he afterwards learned, Maramy complained that the jaded horse could scarcely carry the stranger forward, when Barca Gana said," By the head of the prophet! believers enough have breathed their

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last to-day; why should we concern ourselves about a Christian's death?" Malem Chadily, however, so bitter as a theological opponent, showed now the influence of a milder spirit, and said,-" No, God has preserved him; let us not abandon him ;" and Maramy declared,-" His heart told him what to do." They therefore moved on slowly till about midnight, when they passed the Mandara frontier in a state of severe suffering; but the Major met with much kindness from a dethroned prince, Mai Meegamy, who, seeing his wounds festering under the rough woollen cloak which formed his only covering, took off his own trowsers and gave them to him.

The Arabs had lost forty-five of their number, besides their chief; the rest were in a miserable plight, most of them wounded, some mortally, and all having lost their camels and the rest of their property. Renouncing their pride, they were obliged to supplicate from Barca Gana a handful of corn to keep them from starving. The Sultan of Mandara, in whose cause they had suffered, treated them with the utmost contumely, which perhaps they might deserve, but certainly not from him. Deep sorrow was afterwards felt in Fezzan when they arrived in this deplorable condition and reported the fall of their chief, who was there almost idolized. A national song was composed on the occasion, which the following extract will show to be marked by great depth of feeling, and not altogether devoid of poetical beauty:

“Oh! trust not to the gun and the sword! The spear of the unbeliever prevails!

"Boo Khalloom, the good and the brave, has fallen! Who shall now be safe? Even as the moon

amongst the little stars, so was Boo Khalloom amongst men! Where shall Fezzan now look for her protector? Men hang their heads in sorrow, while women wring their hands, rending the air with their cries! As a shepherd is to his flock, so was Boo Khalloom to Fezzan!

"Give him songs! Give him music! What words can equal his praise? His heart was as large as the desert! His coffers were like the rich overflowings from the udder of the she-camel, comforting and nourishing those around him!

"Even as the flowers without rain perish in the field, so will the Fezzaners droop; for Boo Khalloom returns no more!

"His body lies in the land of the heathen! The poisoned arrow of the unbeliever prevails!

"Oh! trust not to the gun and the sword! The spear of the heathen conquers! Boo Khalloom, the good and the brave, has fallen! Who shall now be safe?"

The Sheik of Bornou was considerably mortified by the result of this expedition, and the miserable figure made by his troops, though he sought to throw the chief blame on the Mandara part of the armament. He now invited the Major to accompany an expedition against the Mungas, a rebel tribe on his outer border, on which occasion he was to employ his native band of Kanemboo spearmen, who, he trusted, would redeem the military reputation of the monarchy. Major Denham was always ready to go wherever he had a chance of seeing the manners and scenery of Africa. The sheik took the field, attended by his armour-bearer, his drummer fantastically dressed in a straw hat with ostrich