two long pistols; the chief enters, and salutes, dropping on one knee, and touching the stranger’s right hand with his, which he carries afterwards to his lips; he then says, “Here are my men, who are come to say health to you.”  On receiving permission, they approached Major Denham one by one, saluting in the same manner as their chief, who continued to remain at his side; they then sat down, forming a sort of semi-circle round the major, with their guns upright between their knees, and after a little time, on the sheik’s making a signal, they all quitted the presence.

Boo Khaloom at this time became so alarmingly ill, that their departure was of necessity postponed.  He requested Major Denham to prescribe for him.  All the fighis’ (writers,) and marabouts in Sockna, were employed on this occasion by the friends of Boo Khaloom; and one night the tassels of his cap were literally loaded with their charms.  Boo Khaloom assured Major Denham, when alone, that he had no faith in such things, and smiled when he said his friends would think ill of him, were he to refuse; his faith was, however, stronger than he chose to acknowledge; for entering one morning unexpectedly, the major found him with a dove, that had just been killed and cut open, lying on his head, which, as he assured him, was, because a very great marabout had come from Wadan on purpose to perform the operation.  Major Denham was nevertheless still more surprised to find him seated on a carpet, in the centre of the little court yard of his house, in the middle of the day, with five of his hordes round him, which had been brought from the tents by his order.  The major was convinced, that this was some superstitious idea of the mystic influence which his horses were supposed to have upon his fate, and on expressing his surprise, he made him sit down and told him the following story.

“Sidi Mohammed, praise be to his name!” said he, “was once applied to by a poor man, whose speculations in trade always turned out disadvantageously; his children died, and nothing flourished with him.  Mohammed told him, that horses were nearly connected with his fate, and that he must buy horses before he would be fortunate.  ’If I cannot afford to keep myself,’ said the man, ’how can I feed horses?’—­’No matter,’ said the prophet; alive or dead, no good fortune will come upon your house until you have them.’  The poor man went and purchased the head of a dead horse, which was all his means enabled him to do, and this he placed over his house, little dreaming of the good fortune, which by this means he was to enjoy.  Before the first day passed, to his extreme surprise and joy, he saw a bird, with a chain attached to its neck, entangled with the horse’s head; and, on mounting to the housetop to extricate the bird, he found it one of the greatest beauty, and that the chain was of diamonds.  He was not long in discovering the bird had escaped from the window of the favourite of a certain sultan, who, on its being restored, gave the poor man the chain as his reward, and by means of which he became rich and happy.  Now,” said Boo Khaloom, “I dreamt of this story last night, and that I was the poor man.”