e; and peace thus firmly established, several canoes were
at once employed, and sixty of our men were brought across the river
before sunset. The natives had nevertheless taken the precaution to send
all their women away from the village.

CHAPTER XIX.

Kamrasi's cowardice--Interview with the king--The exchange of blood--The
royal beggar's last chance--An astounded sovereign.

On January 31st throngs of natives arrived to carry our luggage gratis,
by the king's orders. On the following day my wife became very ill, and
had to be carried on a litter during the following days. On February 4th
I also fell ill upon the road, and having been held on my ox by two men
for some time, I at length fell into their arms and was laid under a
tree for five hours. Becoming better, I rode on for two hours.

On the route we were delayed in every possible way. I never saw such
cowardice as the redoubtable Kamrasi exhibited. He left his residence
and retreated to the opposite side of the river, from which point he
sent us false messages to delay our advance as much as possible. He had
not the courage either to repel us or to receive us. On February 9th he
sent word that I was to come on ALONE. I at once turned back, stating
that I no longer wished to see Kamrasi, as he must be a mere fool, and
I should return to my own country. This created a great stir, and
messengers were at once despatched to the king, who returned an answer
that I might bring all my men, but that only five of the Turks could be
allowed with Ibrahim.

After a quick march of three hours through immense woods we reached the
capital--a large village of grass huts situated on a barren slope. We
were ferried across a river in large canoes, capable of carrying fifty
men, but formed of a single tree upward of four feet wide. Kamrasi
was reported to be in his residence on the opposite side; but upon our
arrival at the south bank we found ourselves thoroughly deceived. We
were upon a miserable flat, level with the river, and in the wet season
forming a marsh at the junction of the Kafoor River with the Somerset.
The latter river bounded the flat on the east, very wide and sluggish,
and much overgrown with papyrus and lotus. The river we had just crossed
was the Kafoor. It was perfectly dead water and about eighty yards wide,
including the beds of papyrus on either side. We were shown some filthy
huts that were to form our camp. The spot was swarming with mosquitoes,
and