We are on our way to meet the Kailouee Tuaricks, with whom we have arranged in Ghat to conduct us by Aheer to Zinder—­a service for which we have already paid a hundred dollars of the money of Ghat.  They are a company of merchants returning to their own country, and although they will probably protect us to a certain extent, can scarcely inspire so much confidence as Waled Shafou would have done.  We travelled four hours on the 26th.  Dr. Barth was again lost this evening, having pushed on in his usual eager way for about half an hour.  We were filled with alarm.  There were two roads dividing at a certain place, one direct and the other turning off at an angle.  Naturally, the Doctor followed the straight road, which proved to be the wrong one.  However, knowing he had gone on before, my fears were awakened when we reached the fork; and I immediately fired several guns, and ordered a search to be commenced.  The guns not only served as guides to Dr. Barth, but introduced us to the Kailouees, who were close at hand, and came running to meet us.  Their appearance, for I scarcely know what reason, sent a thrill of joy through our frames; and the weariness and discouragement we had brought with us from Ghat disappeared.  We entertained great hopes of these new companions.  The first impression they produced was good; for they greeted us most cheerfully, and began helping to unload the camels.  They have several female slaves with them, and muster in all some twenty persons and about thirty camels; so that, altogether, we shall form a very respectable caravan.

We rose early on the 27th, and starting at half-past six, continued moving until noon, when we encamped in a valley a little before the water of Akourou, where there is herbage for the camels in a hollow amidst rocky sandstone hills.  The scenery of this part of the desert continues to be very varied.  The range of lofty marl hills, over which the sun rises for Ghat, is still seen stretching northwards and southwards.  Animals feed about here and there; some quails whirr along the ground; black vultures, white eagles, and numerous crows, perch upon the rocks, or speckle the sky overhead.  I went to visit the “Water,” as they call a small lake that nestles amidst the rocks.  It is of some depth, and filled, they say, merely by rain-water, very palatable to drink.  Even when no showers occur for several years it does not become quite empty; and as there is no apparent reason for this, I am led to suppose it may be partly fed by some spring in the rocks that form its bed.  This lake imparts an unusually cheerful aspect to the valley in which it lies.  It is resorted to by the dwellers of the neighbouring district, who come to water their flocks, and feed them on the herbage that springs round the margin.  These pools or collections of water are called ghadeer, which I at first mistook for the name of a particular locality.  According to Yusuf, this place gives an exact idea of the Tibboo country, where, he says, there are no wells, but vast clefts in the rock, down which pours the water when it rains, to collect in the hollows at the bottom.  Our people speak with great respect of this ghadeer.  Everything connected with water is sacred in the desert.  They say that for several weeks after a rain-storm there are regular cascades over the rocks.