From the very first day my guide did not shew himself in an amiable point of view.
On the morning of our departure his saddle had to be patched together, and instead of coming with two horses, he appeared with only one.

He certainly promised to buy a second when we should have proceeded some miles, adding that it would be cheaper to buy one at a little distance from the "capital." I at once suspected this was merely an excuse of the guide's, and that he wished thereby to avoid having the care of four horses.

The event proved I was right; not a single horse could be found that suited, and so my poor little animal had to carry the guide's baggage in addition to my own.
Loading the pack-horses is a business of some difficulty, and is conducted in the following manner: sundry large pieces of dried turf are laid upon the horse's back, but not fastened; over these is buckled a round piece of wood, furnished with two or three pegs.

To these pegs the chests and packages are suspended.

If the weight is not quite equally balanced, it is necessary to stop and repack frequently, for the whole load at once gets askew.
The trunks used in this country are massively constructed of wood, covered with a rough hide, and strengthened on all sides with nails, as though they were intended to last an eternity.