Mahomet met several relatives at Cassala. One borrowed money of him; another stole his pipe; the third, who declared that nothing should separate them now that “by the blessing of God” they had met, determined to accompany him through all the difficulties of our expedition, provided that Mahomet would only permit him to serve for love, without wages. I gave Mahomet some little advice upon this point, reminding him that, although the clothes of the party were only worth a few piastres, the spoons and forks were silver; therefore I should hold him responsible for the honesty of his friend. This reflection upon the family gave great offence, and he assured me that Achmet, our quondam acquaintance, was so near a relative that he was–I assisted him in the genealogical distinction: “Mother’s brother’s cousin’s sister’s mother’s son? Eh, Mahomet?”
“Yes, sar, that’s it!” “Very well, Mahomet; mind he doesn’t steal the spoons, and thrash him if he doesn’t do his work!” “Yes, sar”, replied Mahomet; “he all same like one brother; he one good man; will do his business quietly; if not, master lick him.” The new relative not understanding English, was perfectly satisfied with the success of his introduction, and from that moment he became one of the party.
One more addition, and our arrangements were completed: the Governor of Cassala was determined we should not start without a soldier guide to represent the government. Accordingly he gave us a black corporal, so renowned as a sportsman that he went by the name of “El Baggar” (the cow), because of his having killed several of the oryx antelope, known as “El Baggar et Wabash” (cow of the desert).