ering from our fright, we rose and
expressed to the philanthropic Englishman the gratitude we felt. Mr
Carnet,[6] the name of the generous Briton, told us that our caravan,
which he had met, waited for us at about the distance of two leagues. He
then gave us some biscuit, which we eat; and we then set off together to
join our companions. Mr Carnet wished us to mount his camels, but my
stepmother and myself, being unable to persuade ourselves we could sit
securely on their hairy haunches, continued to walk on the moist sand,
whilst my father, Mr Carnet, and the Moors who accompanied him,
proceeded on the camels. We soon reached a little river, called in the
country Marigot des Maringoins. We wished to drink of it, but found it
as salt as the sea. Mr Carnet desired us to have patience, and we should
find some at the place where our caravan waited. We forded that river
knee-deep. At last, having walked about an hour, we rejoined our
companions, who had found several wells of fresh water. It was resolved
to pass the night in this place, which seemed less arid than any we saw
near us. The soldiers, being requested to go and seek wood to light a
fire, for the purpose of frightening the ferocious beasts which were
heard roaring around us, refused; but Mr Carnet assured us, that the
Moors who were with him knew well how to keep all such intruders from
our camp. In truth, during the whole of the night, these good Arabs
promenaded round our caravan, uttering cries at intervals like those we
had heard in the camp of the generous Amet.

[Footnote 6: In the work of MM. Correard and Savigny, this
gentleman is made mention of in substance as follows. "On the
evening of the 11th, they met with more of the natives, and an
Irishman, captain of a merchantman, who, of his own accord, had
left St Louis with the intention of assisting the sufferers. He
spoke the language of the country, and was dressed in the Moorish
costume. We are sorry we cannot recollect the name of this foreign
officer, which we would have a real pleasure in publishing; but,
since time has effaced it from our memories, we will at least
publish his zeal and his noble efforts, titles well worthy the
gratitude of every feeling heart." pp. 164-165. Paris, 1818,
8vo.--_Trans._]

We passed a very good night, and at four in the morning continued our
route along the shore. Mr Carnet left us to endeavour to procure some
provision