On the 11th of July, after having walked from one o’clock in the morning till seven, we arrived at a place where the Englishman expected to meet with an ox.  By some misunderstanding there was none; we were obliged to pinch our bellies:  but we had a little water.

The heat was insupportable; the sun was already scorching.  We halted on the white sand of these downs, as being more wholesome for a resting place than the sand, wetted by the sea-water.  But this sand was so hot, that even the hands could not endure it.  Towards noon we were broiled by the beams of the sun darting perpendicularly upon our heads.  I found no remedy, except in a creeping plant, which grew here and there on the moving sand.  I set up some old stalks, and spread over them my coat and some leaves:  thus I put my head in the shade; the rest of my body was roasted.  The wind overturned, twenty times, my slight scaffolding.

Meantime, this Englishman was gone, on his camel, to see after an ox.  He did not return till four or five o’clock:  when he informed us that we should find this animal, after we had proceeded some hours.  After a most painful march, till night, we, in fact, met with an ox which was small, but tolerably fat.  We looked at some distance from the sea, for a place where there was supposed to be a spring.  It was only a hole, which the Moors had left a few hours before.  Here we fixed ourselves, a dozen fires were lighted around us.  A negro twisted the neck of the ox, as we should have done that of a fowl.  In five minutes it was flayed and cut into pieces, which we toasted on the points of our swords or sabres.  Every one devoured his portion.

After this slight repast, we all lay down to sleep.  I was not able to sleep:  the tiresome buzzing of the mosquitoes, and their cruel stings, prevented me, though I was so much in need of repose.

On the 12th, we resumed our march at three o’clock in the morning.  I was indisposed; and to knock me up entirely, we had to walk over the moving sand of the point of Barbary.  Nothing hitherto, had been more fatiguing:  every body complained; our Moorish guides assured us that this way was shorter by two leagues.  We preferred returning to the beach, and walking on the sand, which the sea-water rendered firm.  This last effort was almost beyond my strength, I sunk under it, and but for my comrades, I should have remained upon the sand.

We had absolutely resolved to reach the point, where the river joins the downs.  There some boats, which were coming up the river, were to take us on board, and convey us to St. Louis.  When we had nearly reached this spot, we crossed the downs, and enjoyed the sight of the river which we had so long desired to meet with.

Happily too, it was the season when the water of the Senegal is fresh:  we quenched our thirst at our pleasure.  We stopped at last; it was only eight o’clock in the morning.  We had no shelter during the whole day, except some trees, which were of a kind unknown to me, and which had a sombre foliage.  I frequently went into the river, but without venturing too far from the bank, for fear of the alligators.