Halleem Effendi, the former Governor, had, many years ago,
planted this garden, irrigated by numerous water-wheels; and we
now enjoyed the fruits, and thanked Heaven for its greatest
blessings in that burning land, shade and cool water.

The tents were soon arranged, the camels were paid for and
discharged, and in the cool of the evening we were visited by the
Governor and suite.

The firman having been officially presented by the dragoman upon
our arrival in the morning, the Governor had called with much
civility to inquire into our projects and to offer assistance. We
were shortly seated on carpets outside the tent, and after pipes
and coffee, and the usual preliminary compliments, my dragoman
explained, that the main object of our journey was to search for
the sources of the Nile, or, as he described it, "the head of the
river."

Both the Governor and Halleem Effendi, with many officers who had
accompanied them, were Turks; but, in spite of the gravity and
solidity for which the Turk is renowned, their faces relaxed into
a variety of expressions at this (to them) absurd announcement.
"The head of the Nile!" they exclaimed, "impossible!" "Do they
know where it is?" inquired the Governor, of the dragoman; and
upon an explanation being given, that, as we did not know where
it was, we had proposed to discover it, the Turks merely shook
their heads, sipped their coffee, and took extra whiffs at their
long pipes, until at length the white- haired old Halleem Effendi
spoke. He gave good and parental advice, as follows:--