we arrived, that the
treaty I had to propose to them might be discussed. My former visit to
this place will in some respects pave the way. Throughout the Turkish
provinces of Tripoli and Fezzan a circular letter given to us by Izhet
Pasha, and the letters of the Bey of Tunis in other quarters, will no
doubt prove of some assistance, although such documents must lose much
of their influence in the very secluded districts through which we shall
be compelled to pass. After all, we must trust principally to our own
tact, to the good will of the natives, and to that vague respect of
English power which is beginning to spread in the Sahara.

The composition of our caravan will of course fluctuate throughout the
whole line of route; but I may as well mention the most important
personages who were to start with me from Tripoli. Setting aside my
colleagues, Barth and Overweg, there was, in the first place, the
interpreter, Yusuf Moknee, a man really of some importance among his
people, but considering himself with far too extravagant a degree of
respect. He is the son of the famous Moknee, who was Governor of the
province of Fezzan during the period of the Karamanly Bashaws. He has
squandered his father's estate in intemperate drinking. Nevertheless I
have been recommended to take him as a dragoman, and give him a fair
trial, as his only vice really seems to be attachment to the bottle. I
suspect he will not find many opportunities of indulging his propensity
in the Sahara; so that, as long as he is _en route_, he may prove to be
that phenomenon, a man without a fault! At any rate I must be content
with him, especially as he is willing to sign a contract promising to be
a pattern of sobriety! There is no one else in Tripoli so suitable for
my purpose. He is a handsome, dark-featured fellow, and when in his
bright-blue gown, white burnoose, and elegant fez, makes a really
respectable figure. I must dress him up well for state occasions. Even
in the desert one is often judged by the livery of one's servants.

The individuals next in importance to Moknee are, perhaps, the
Chaouches, as they are called here--Arab cavaliers, who are to act as
janissaries. There is one big fellow for me, and one little fellow for
the Germans. How they will behave remains to be seen; but I suspect they
will give us some trouble. Then there are a number of free blacks from
Tunis, some married, others not, who are to return to their homes in
Soudan, Bo