This entails many more handshakes and expressions of conoern for our health and future happiness, and for the health of our families. The band is not so easily got rid of, however, and, whether urged on by the largesse they have received or the merissa (native beer) they have taken, oontinue with us for another halfmile or so, still playing and dancing vigorously, as indeed they have played and danced since we first made their acquaintance some three and a half hours before.

A little farther on and the commandant bids us au revoir and turns back to his lonely duties.

Darkness falls soon after, but we continue along the winding native tracks under a brilliant moen, and, some four hours after leaving Zalingie, find ourselves sitting down to dinner in a wadi about ten miles on our journey, with our camp-beds waiting for us, and the men grouped round a couple of fires.

"Shi hadr effendim!" (Tea's ready, sir.) How many dawns with the brilliant stars shining down from a black void, and the red fire blazing, does that phrase bring back to the traveller in the Sudan! A final roll over, a grunt and a stretch, and one realises that it is after 3 A.M., and that one is due to commence another day's trek.

The loud protestations of the camels a little way off show that they are being

loaded, and with a weary sigh one gulps down the hot tea while one dresses. The latter operation does not take very long, as trekking kit generally consists of simply shirt, shorts, and a helmet, besides, of course, sooks, beets, and gaiters, and one generally finds oneself astride the astride the pony, with eampbed and all other baggage loaded, within half an hour of waking. The mornings are apt to be cold, and often one is more than glad of a comforter and greatcoat as well.

3.30 A.M., the morning after leaving Zalingie, found us on the move from Showa, our halting - place overnight, and, riding on well ahead of the camels, we watched the light gradually growing behind Jebel Murra, which was standing clear-cut in the dawn. Animals, disturbed at our approach, rustled away right and left, while somewhere ahead of us a brain-fever bird ran up his maddening scale.

As the sun began to show his rim above the Jebel a great herd of tetl-big animals the size of a mule-sprang up from almost underfoot and were away. A little later a long shot at a gazelle provided us with meat-and very good gazelle meat is-for that day.

The country passed through here, sunbaked as it was, had a charm of its own. The track wound among leafless trees and sorubby bushes, which effectually prevented our seeing far. Here and there, however, as the path wound up or descended a long slope, we had a view over a vast expanse of tree-covered

country, of a uniform brown for the most part, but with here and there streaks of vivid green showing the path of the wadis, while many small rooky jebels were dotted over the landscape.

Soon the path led us down to the edge of a wide wadi, and followed it for some two miles before orossing its dry bed to wind among the stunted trees and bushes again.

Here we rode beneath a profusion of cool green foliage, a welcome change from uninterrupted sun. Brilliant green parakeets and the little green and blue parrot, said to be the smallest true parrot in the world, which is found here, flew shrieking above us, while an occasional family of small brown monkeys hurriedly effaced themselves in bush or tree. Birds of many unknown kinds, some brilliant and some sober in plumage, perched on the trees, while now and again gazelle, hartebeeste tetl trotted away after a wondering glance at us.

Soon after eight o'clock brought us to Hilla Aro, outside which we unloaded the camels, and half an hour after stopping were sitting down, shaved and washed, to breakfast.

The heat of the day on these treks is passed in sleeping or reading in the tent, so that it was not until after four in the afternoon that the camels were again shidded, and eight o'clock that night found us camped near the Daggu wells, receiving the local sheik. He had come to bid us welcome,

followed by a long line of men bearing grain, chickens, eggs, milk, and, a curious find in a waterless country, two large fish.

These fish are one of the natural wonders of the country. Trekking along in a dry waste one is delighted to have fresh fish presented for breakfast or dinner, and the first time it happens, one can scarcely believe the evidence of one's own eyes. On asking the cook where the water is, and being told that there is no water, but that they are dug up from the ground, one is inclined to tax him with being a bigger liar than usual; but that is actually the case. These fish, supposed to be a species of cat-fish, burrow in the damp sand or mud under the wadis when the water ceases to flow, and hibernate there. The natives dig for them during the dry season. It is the more wonderful as the wadis only run for, at mest, two months in the year, so that the fish spend ten months out of water, and yet live. A similar fish is also found in dry branches of the Upper Nile.

Two days later, after a trek in which the only traces of big game seen were the tracks of some lion and elephant, we were settling down below the village of Kalla Ketting, from where we proposed starting up the Jebel.

Our arrival soon became known, and the shartai, Ali Abdel Gelil, came down the steep slope from the hills, which was prettily situated

among the foothills of the Jebel, and above a wadi which was a veritable riot of green. Ali was evidently dressed for the occasion, and was gorgeous in a red robe of honour, and carried the brass sword. He was followed by a long string of men bearing presents-rakkers of dura, wheat, and onions, burmas of honey, bowls of milk, and enough firewood to last a week, as well as two or three live sheep. Hospitality of this sort is met with all through the district, and to refuse it is to dishonour the giver. Gifts of sugar, tea, soap, or oigarettes are always appreeiated in return, though to give anything generally means fresh presents in embarrassing quantities.

Having been presented to all Ali's chief relatives and friends, we broke the news to him that we wanted to ascend the Jebel to the Deriba Lakes, and asked him to give us transport and guides. He jumped at the idea, and promised to send his two sons with us.

Early next morning the two sons, Sulieman Senussi and Mahomet Taur, appeared, together with eight donkeys. These were loaded with the few necessaries we required, and with the first glimmer of dawn we started the ascent.

At first the path led gently out of the wadi on to a wide plateau, but as we went en this became rockier and rockier, until we found ourselves on a rock ledge overlooking a ravine. Up and up we plod

ded, slipping and scrambling over rooks, and wondering if the donkeys would ever get up certain places.

An hour and a half of stiff going brought us to the top of a rocky ridge, from where we had a view of great masses of rook upflung about us, while away below was Kalla Ketting perched on its hill, with the green wadi winding away through a brown scorched landscape.

From here onwards the hillsides were all terraced for oultivation, and it was evident that a much larger population than is on the Jebel at present had been supported there.

A couple of hours later we were erossing the Wadi Gindi in which was running water. The sight of this wadi, with its green-clad banks, proved irresistible,-for in this part of the Sudan Jebel Murra is the only place where running water can be found, except in the khareef,— and we halted here for the heat of the day. Just above was a large slice of cultivated land on which a number of men and women were working, but, being unaccustomed to the sight of white men, they ran away as soon as they saw us, and we saw them no more.

Late that afternoon found us ascending by a species of ehimney to another plateau, across which the path ran until it led us on to a narrow ledge two-thirds of the way up the side of a huge ravine in which, hundreds of feet below, we could faintly hear the plash of falling water.

Here we came across several large trees which leaned out at seemingly impossible angles from the almost perpendicular wall of the ravine, and appeared to draw all their nourishment from bare rock. A winding path up a huge buttress gave us a wonderful view of the wild masses of rock out by great ravines which lay at our feet, and a scramble over another ridge brought us in view of Hilla Tirbas, where we stopped the night.

This hilla, its tukls built of slabs of stone roofed with grass, was set on the top of a rounded hill whose slopes were a perfect maze of terracing. It is on these terraces that the wheat, for which Jebel Murra is renowned, is grown. Curiously enough the inhabitants do not use much of it themselves, though they give it to their animals, but exchange it for dura with the people of the plains below.

Early next morning found us descending the side of a great gorge with seven or eight porters carrying our kit, although three of the donkeys were still with us. The bottom of the gorge reached, we were confronted by a veritable wall of rock, up which it seemed almost impossible to climb. However, a rough path ran up the face, and ten minutes stiff elimbing brought us to the top. From this point onward we seemed to keep along the top of a ridge which followed round a valley lying between us and the lower slopes of the main peaks, still far away. Wild figs grew in

abundance on stunted bushes, and great numbers of big dogfaced baboons chattered at us as we approached.

An hour's steady climbing brought us to Babrei, where we halted for a while.

This village, like the two or three others we passed on the Jebel, was evidently built to withstand attack and also to keep out wild animals. The whole hilla was surrounded by a wall composed of rough rock some two or three feet thick and perhaps seven feet high, surmounted by a palisade of stakes and brushwood leaning outwards at an acute angle. Inside this wall eash tukl, or group of tukls, was surrounded by a wall on the same plan, entrance being obtained by a low archway in the wall barred by strong baulks of timber. The tukls themselves were strongly built of rough stone, with grass roofs.

From Babrei to Dimbitting, the next hilla, the path was more than rough, and entailed an hour's hard climbing.

At Dimbitting we found Mahomet Taur, who had gone ahead, waiting with a few of the notables to welcome us. To be frank, we did not appreciate the welcome as much as the eggs, chickens, tomatoes, and onions they brought-for, a short time previously, the cook had told us that he had none too many of these commodities, and Sulieman had told us that this was the last village we should strike. That is one of the little peculiarities of the Sudanese servant-he never thinks of telling you that you