it appears had already been apprised of our intended visit. A small black tent had been pitched for our party, into which I first conducted Mrs. Badger, and then repaired to the large tent, where as many as three hundred of the elders of the tribe were holding a council. On my approach all rose, and Sufoog coming forward saluted me with a shake of the hand, and placed me at his side on a dirty carpet and cushion, the only domestic furniture, with the exception of a hole in the ground for a fireplace, and several rude utensils for roasting, pounding, and making coffee. The Sheikh was clothed in a shirt (not over clean), a cotton gown bound round the waist with a common girdle, over which a coarse aba, or cloak, was thrown; the kerchief and camel's-hair rope completed his attire. Although he appeared to welcome us heartily, yet he spoke but little, and confined his first inquiries to the movements of the Turkish army, the entrance of the new Pasha into Mosul, and the probable prospects of Bedr Khan Beg, the fame of whose exploits had reached into the heart of the desert. He looked like a man forty years old, spare made, with black hair, and a short beard, which anxiety rather than age had somewhat whitened. His countenance evinced deep thought, not unmixed with cunning, while his bronzed face and arms bespoke his exposure to the burning sun of the desert. It would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of the swarthy beings, the heads of the tribes, who lined the tent in two rows, the foremost seated, and the hindermost standing, the better to see and hear what was going forward. Their dress was simple in the extreme, and consisted of the usual long shirt and flowing head-dress of the Bedooeen, from beneath which their black hair was allowed to hang in a long curl down each side of the face. Their countenances bespoke craft and distrust, and there was nothing in their demeanour calculated to inspire one with confidence. Scarcely a word was uttered by them during my interview with the Sheikh, and they continued to smoke their pipes in sullen silence and unconcern, ever and anon throwing a glance at me, which seemed to say: "You are safe now, but had we met you on the road, we should have seized the opportunity to exchange our filthy, greasy attire, for your clean and better habiliments."
Having brought with us a present for Sufoog, I asked whether
