At the same time I ordered a handsome Persian carpet, about fifteen feet square, to be displayed as one of the presents intended for the king. The gorgeous colors, as the carpet was unfolded, produced a general exclamation. Before the effect of astonishment wore off I had a basket unpacked, and displayed upon a cloth a heap of superb necklaces, that we had prepared while at Obbo, of the choicest beads, many as large as marbles, and glittering with every color of the rainbow. The garden of jewels of Aladdin’s wonderful lamp could not have produced more enticing fruit. Beads were extremely rare in Kamrasi’s land; the few that existed had arrived from Zanzibar, and all that I exhibited were entirely new varieties. I explained that I had many other presents, but that it was not necessary to unpack them, as we were about to return with them to visit another king, who lived some days’ journey distant. “Don’t go; don’t go away,” said the headman and his companions. “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.