ing a boar. The Arab had fired at the brute at twenty paces,
but missed his aim. It was now past five o'clock, so we returned to
the caravanserai to dinner. Some Chasseurs d'Afrique had arrived in
the interim. Their captain joined us in our room, and promised us an
escort for the morrow. He was from Boulogne-sur-Mer, and spoke English
pretty well. He told us we should have to start at six in the morning
to cross the river.

Accordingly, next morning the Frenchman set out at six o'clock with
his troops and traps, leaving a dragoon behind as an escort for us,
but with the important qualification that the man might only stay one
hour behind the rest, as he must be present on the arrival of the
troop at Teniet. "_Et maintenant_," quoth this bold warrior, "_je vais
me servir d'un peu de votre tabac, s'il vous plait, car je vois que
votre blague est bien garni;_" and, filling his pipe, he vanished,
with a polite "_Au revoir, messieurs_!"

Feeling too tired to rise at seven for the sake of escort, especially
as we had not a very long journey before us, I remained comfortably
for breakfast, and B---- started alone. After a good meal, I set out
with Angelo, and we forced our way through a densely-wooded country,
till we came upon the obstacle which had lost us two days--the river
Klebah. This stream we managed with some difficulty to cross; a
Frenchman, who emerged from the auberge on the other side, assisting
us, by his advice, as to the best spot to choose for our passage.
B---- and the trooper had just finished breakfast in the auberge, and
departed. The landlady of the "Scorpion," a very chatty and amusing
personage, insisted upon it that I was a German. She favoured me with
a sporting anecdote, setting forth how she had killed three rabbits
during an expedition to pick some rose laurier on the hills. As the
bunnies popped their noses out of their holes, she had managed to pop
them off with the branches. As this was the only house to be met with
on that day's journey, I halted there for half an hour. Mine hostess
related how an "English milord" had stayed there for six months with
his wife, in a tent, without even a servant--"_Qu'ils sont droles ces
Anglais!_" was the landlady's final comment; and it was not for me to
contradict the oft-repeated sentiment.

Through a mountainous and most barren country, amid a pelting
snow-storm, we wended onwards to Teniet. In my way from El Massin to
the "Scorpion," I might almost have