arrived duly at Sleeman, where the Caid had everything prepared very
comfortably for us. My friends B---- and F---- arrived later, in a
carriage. We had a good Arab dinner, with the national kouskous,
followed by a chibouk.

There was a river about six miles off, where boars were rumoured to
make their abode. I rose early next morning, and, proceeding to this
stream, hid in the thicket on the banks, while the Arabs beat the
bushes. After waiting a long time, I managed to "pot" a wild boar,
which came rushing past me at full speed. After this, the Arabs
refused to beat the bushes any more, declaring that the dogs were
tired, though the real reason was that they wanted their own dinners,
so I was obliged to give up the sport and return. The wild boar was
dispatched as a present to the consul.

[Illustration: R. Pheney, lith.

M. & N. Hanhart, Impt.

HOG-SHOOTING ON THE BANKS OF THE OUED EL AHWENA, IN
TUNISIA.]

The river which we visited to-day is called the Oued el Ahwena. It
runs through a rich valley, bordered on both sides by mountains which
rise up gradually, and are covered to their very foot with trees of
various descriptions. The plain itself is fragrant with myrtles,
orange trees, and olives. The beauty of the scene amid which this
river falls into the sea is beyond description. Here the water is
hissing wildly among osiers and furze bushes; there it skips along
like a young goat over the small pebbles; and yonder, again, it winds
like a serpent among the sand hills on the sea-shore. The dark
olive-trees on the bank seem to look seriously on, like a father
watching the pranks of a favourite child. The large ash-trees shake
and quiver, like old aunts, all in a tremble at the dangerous hops and
vagaries of a lively niece; while the gay-plumaged birds of the air
ring out their wild applause, and the flowers on the bankside murmur
tenderly, "Oh, take us with you, dear sister!" But the joyous,
sparkling river rushes on like a coquette, bounding and skipping
towards its goal.

Such is the river Ahwena in the glorious month of April: fair without,
like many a gay flirt, she can yet inflict wounds incurable, if not
death, upon those whom her wiles entrap. Woe to the traveller or
hunter who, oppressed by thirst in this burning climate, ventures to
taste the sparkling water that bubbles up like champagne, invitingly
at his feet! Cholera and death would be the probable result. The
waters are redolent of cholera, an