On the 8th of July the caravan guide called for me in the evening.
His appearance was so unfavourable that I should scarcely have
ventured to travel a mile with him had I not been assured that he
was a man well known in the place. His dress consisted of rags and
tatters, and his countenance resembled that of a robber. Ali, that
was his name, told me that the travellers and goods had already gone
on and were encamped in the chan near Nebbi-Yunus, where they were
to pass the night. The journey was to be commenced before sunrise.
I found three men and some pack-horses; the men (Kurds) were no
better in appearance than Ali, so that I could not promise myself
much gratification from their society. I took up my quarters for
the night in the dirty court-yard of the chan, but was too much
frightened to sleep well.
In the morning, to my astonishment, there were no indications of
starting. I asked Ali what was the cause of this, and received as
answer that the travellers were not all assembled yet, and that, as
soon as they were, we should proceed immediately.
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