"Kamrasi will--" Here an unmistakable pantomimic action explained their meaning better than words; throwing their heads well back, they sawed across their throats with their forefingers, making horrible grimaces, indicative of the cutting of throats.

I could not resist laughing at the terror that my threat of returning with the presents had created.

They explained that Kamrasi would not only kill them, but would destroy the entire village of Atada should we return without visiting him; but that he would perhaps punish them in precisely the same manner should they ferry us across without special orders.

"Please yourselves," I replied; "if my party is not ferried across by the time the sun reaches that spot on the heavens (pointing to the position it would occupy at about 3 P.M.) I shall return." In a state of great excitement they promised to hold a conference on the other side, and to see what arrangements could be made.

They returned to Atada, leaving the whole party, including Ibrahim, exceedingly disconcerted, having nothing to eat, an impassable river before us, and five days' march of uninhabited wilderness in our rear.
The whole day passed in shouting and gesticulating our peaceful intentions to the crowd assembled on the heights on the opposite side of the river; but the boat did not return until long after the time appointed.