Boo Khaloom Ordered A Bornouse To Be Thrown Over The Major - Very Seasonably, For The Burning Sun Had Began To Blister His Naked Body.

Suddenly, however, Maramy called out, "See!

See! Boo Khaloom is dead," and that spirited chief, overpowered by the wound of a poisoned arrow, dropped from his horse and spoke no more. The others now only thought of pressing their flight, and soon reached a stream, where they refreshed themselves by copious draughts, and a halt was made to collect the stragglers. Major Denham here fell into a swoon, during which, as he afterwards learned, Maramy complained that the jaded horse could scarcely carry the stranger forward, when Barca Gana said, "By the head of the prophet! believers enough have breathed their last to-day, why should we concern ourselves about a Christian's death." Malem Chadily, however, so bitter as a theological opponent, showed now the influence of a milder spirit, and said, "No, God has preserved him; let us not abandon him;" and Maramy declared, his heart told him what to do. They therefore moved on slowly till about midnight, when they passed the Mandara frontier, in a state of severe suffering, but the major met with much kindness from a dethroned prince, Mai Meagamy, who seeing his wounds festering under the rough woollen cloak, which formed his only covering, took off his own trousers and gave them to him.

The Arabs lost forty-five of their number, besides their chief; the survivors were in a miserable plight, most of them wounded, some mortally, and all deprived of their camels, and the rest of their property. Renouncing their pride, they were obliged to supplicate from Barca Gana a handful of corn to keep them from starving. The sultan of Mandara, in whose cause they had suffered, treated them with the utmost contumely, which, perhaps, they might deserve, but certainly not from him. Deep sorrow was afterwards felt in Fezzan, when they arrived in this deplorable condition, and reported the fall of their chief, who was there almost idolized. A national song was composed on the occasion, which the following extract will show to be marked by great depth of feeling, and not devoid of poetical beauty: -

"Oh trust not to the gun and the sword: the spear of the unbeliever prevails!

"Boo Khaloom, the good and the brave, has fallen! Fallen has he in his might! Who shall now be safe? Even as the moon amongst the little stars, so was Boo Khaloom amongst men! Where shall Fezzan now look for her protector? Men hang their heads in sorrow, while women wring their hands, rending the air with their cries! As a shepherd is to his flock, so was Boo Khaloom to Fezzan.

"Give him songs! Give him music! What words can equal his praise! His heart was as large as the desert! His coffers were like the rich overflowings from the udder of the she camel, comforting and nourishing those around him.

"Even as the flowers without rain perish in the field, so will the Fezzaners droop; for Boo Khaloom returns no more.

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