a few tholukhs. The, traces of the aoudad
were noticed; and the blacks, picking up its dung, smelt it as musk,
saying, "It is very good." As I jogged on upon my camel, the oppressive
heat caused me to sleep and dream in the saddle of things that had now
become the province of memory.

More quarrels! The chaouches are boiling over again; they must fight it
out between them. No doubt they are both correct in exchanging the
epithet of "thief." Scarcely has the grumbling of these two terrible
fellows died away, when the blacks are at it amongst themselves. He who
has two wives gets hold of his blunderbuss, and threatens to blow
himself to pieces. Nobody interferes; there is little public spirit in a
caravan: so he consents to an explanation, saying sententiously, "My
little wife is mad." The fact is, his two helpmates, one young and one
old, are vastly too much for him, as they would be for most men. He
moves along in a perpetual family tornado. The mother of the young one,
a sort of derwish negress, is a tremendous old intriguer, and stirs up
at least one feud a day. Quarrelling is meat and drink to her.

It would have been out of character had not Ali got up a little
convulsion on his own account. One day, in the Targhee's absence, he
took his gun to "play at powder," and using English material, succeeded
in splitting the machine near the lock. When the Targhee returned, and
found what damage had been done, he began first to whimper, and then
working himself up into a towering passion, swore he would shoot the
culprit. Scarcely with that weapon, O Targhee! When his excitement was
over, I offered to make a collection among the people to indemnify him;
but he shook his head, laughed, and refused. The gun was nearly all his
property, and he had just bought it new at Tripoli.[2]

[2] The Orientals are prevented by superstitious fear from
allowing any article destroyed by accident to be replaced
in the way mentioned.--Ed.

All this part of Northern Africa may be compared to an archipelago, with
seas of various breadths dividing the islands. Three days took us from
Tripoli to Gharian, and three more to Mizdah. We were now advancing
across the preliminary desert stretching in front of the great plateau
of the Hamadah, which defends, like a wall of desolation, the approaches
of Fezzan from the north. At first occur broken limestone hills, as
previous to Mizdah; but when we approach the plateau the aspect of the