having seen them at Zaweeah, near Tripoli. Satisfied with this little
interview, we drew aside, and the procession moved towards the gate.
There was instantly a rush of the Arab horsemen, every one trying to get
in front; and as the entry was narrow an obstruction soon took place. We
drew aside, and called out to those who were pressing on to make way for
the Governor. One fellow would not hear; and Mustapha himself riding up,
lashed him with a small whip across the shoulders. Bad taste; but
perhaps excusable in this case, if ever. These lawless soldiery can
never be taught good manners, without which true discipline is
impossible. However, we at length got within the gate, and the
procession poured along the streets, the women _loo-looing_ as we
passed, the bagpipes shrieking louder than ever, the crowd buzzing, the
horses thundering, the cavaliers shouting. In fine, this hubbub carried
us quite back into the regions of civilisation, where men collect on
public occasions often without any real joy, and by mere process of
action and reaction succeed in working themselves up into a state of
boisterous enthusiasm.

Several days were now chiefly occupied in writing reports on the
progress made by the expedition hitherto; and in voluminous
correspondence on petty, matters--petty, I mean, in themselves, but very
important to us--all connected with our future proceedings. I forwarded
to the Foreign Office a letter addressed by the Sultan Laoul, of the
Tibboos of Bilma, to Mr. Gagliuffi. It appears these people are now
nominally subject to the Ottoman Porte.

_12th._--We went to pay a visit to Mustapha Agha, my old friend of
Ghadamez. He received us with all the honours--a guard of officers,
pipes, coffee, and sherbet. That important subject of health was a good
deal talked of. Mustapha fears the climate of Fezzan, and finds little