One story ended in a horrid murder.

He wanted me to have no more to do with them, and when he saw I was attached to them, begged me earnestly to treat them always as inferiors, to 'keep them in their place'; and this I promised, coward-like, to do, although I knew that, in the way he meant, it was not in me.
It seemed that he himself was travelling in these wild places in search of an old Greek inscription, mention of which he had discovered in some book.

He half-persuaded me to bear him company.
'You are doing no good here, alone with such companions,' he said, as I at last departed.

'Think over my advice to you.

Go back to England.
Come with me for the next few days, and share my tents.