GENERAL KIRKHAM—DIK-DIK—AN ABYSSINIAN HOUSE—A SUCCESSFUL DODGE—EGYPTIAN OUTPOSTS—A PET SHEEP—SPORTSMAN'S PARADISE—LOST IN A MIST—A "NASTY CROPPER"—SAFE IN CAMP—DIGGING FOR PIGS—A LUCKY SHOT—A SHOWER BATH.

I had heard at Massowah that General Kirkham, commander-in-chief of the King of Abyssinia's army, was at Gindar, about half-a-day's march from Ailet. I had written to the General from Massowah, and, this evening, a servant of the missionaries brought me a note from him, saying that he would come and see us next morning. I was very much interested in seeing General Kirkham, who had lived so long in Abyssinia away from his own country.[5]

Jan. 5.—We got up rather late the next morning, and H. went out shooting. I said I would stay in camp and receive Kirkham when he came, but he did not arrive after all till the afternoon; so, having waited for him until twelve, I decided to go out shooting. I proceeded down to the watercourse, and had not gone far before I came to a pool, at which some pigs were about to drink; I tried to stalk them, but they trotted away. I then turned sharp to the left into the jungle, and wandered about some little time. One could not well imagine a more likely place for wild game, and I expected every moment to see some strange animal dart out of the bushes.

The air was very hot. I had walked about an hour and a half, and I determined to rest and eat some sardines and a crust of bread which I had brought with me. I got on the top of a little mound, and was discussing my luncheon, when I heard a sort of sneezing noise behind me. This made me prick up my ears; I looked round and saw walking quietly out a beautiful little male dik-dik. I rolled him over with my shot gun, pulled out my knife and rushed after him. He was struggling and bounding about on the ground when I got up to him, when I made several vigorous stabs at him with my knife, but, to my great chagrin, he scampered away. I ran after him, getting well torn by the bushes, and found him lying dead just at the foot of a thorny bush. This was the first African animal I shot, and, although he was so small, I felt as proud of him as a cat would with her first mouse.

At the time the dik-dik came out I heard pigs grunting in a little dell below me, but I could not see them at all. I went back to camp, and hearing that Kirkham was up in the missionaries' house I sent word to him that I had come in. I was sitting in the tent when suddenly I saw a fair, rather good-looking, slim man walking up to me; he was dressed in a frock-coat and forage cap—a sort of undress general's uniform. It had a very strange effect to see this man walk up to one in an African jungle—his dress, too, not such as one would expect to see in those parts.

We soon became the best of friends. He told me he would do everything in his power to get us shooting, and forward us through the country. We had a very pleasant little dinner in the tent, talking over our prospects; Kirkham said he would breakfast with us next morning, and then go on to Gindar. At this place he has built a sort of wooden shanty; he had also brought his tent with him to make arrangements for us. He was attended by an Abyssinian servant, named Peter Brou, a man who had been educated at Malta; this man spoke English very well, and could also speak Amharic, all the Abyssinian dialects, and Arabic. Kirkham recommended us to take him as our servant, which we did; he turned out very useful, and was one of the best interpreters I ever knew.

Jan. 6.—After breakfast, and when Kirkham had left us, the weather having cleared up, I went out shooting, and walked through the jungle down to the village of Ailet. The boy who was with me was an Abyssinian Mussulman, living at Massowah, but he seemed to know all the Shoho Arabs in the village. I went into a house to look at the interior and see what it was like; it was an oblong structure built of grass, divided by a grass screen into two chambers, the door of the screen being covered by an Arab cloth. The Arab women, who were grinding corn, amused themselves by peeping at me through the ragged holes in the cloth; they were very civil, and brought me a cup of coffee. I ate my lunch and then started with two of the boys of the village, sent by their father to show me the place where I might find "pig." I did not see anything, but my Massowah boy annoyed me very much by coolly firing at some guinea-fowl with my 16-bore gun loaded with ball, so I told him that the next time he did that I should give him a good thrashing.

I then walked on towards the little stream running from the hot springs, rather disappointed and tired. Going through the jungle I put up a dik-dik hind; this animal trotted away out of shot range, and then stopped and looked at me. I had read in some book of African sport that the curiosity of deer is extraordinary, so I squatted down and twirled my gun about much in the same way as signallers do with a signal flag. To my great astonishment the little dik-dik pricked up her ears, and gradually making little circuits approached within range; it seemed almost a pity to shoot so pretty a little animal, but I fired and rolled her over.

On my way towards home I heard in the jungle some people chattering; they were the women of the village of Ailet, gathering and cutting firewood. I was walking on when two very pretty and gracefully-shaped girls stepped out from the bushes; they were stripped to their waists in order to work more easily. Mahomed, the Massowah boy, seemed to know them, for both of them came smiling up to him, saying, "Ah, Mahomed, how are you?" and he kissed them both. This young gentleman seems to be quite a Lothario, and knows all the girls about here. When the ceremony of kissing was over the girls saw me for the first time, and retreated like two startled gazelles.

Dik-dik flesh is very good eating; it tastes better roasted when one has bacon to add to it. The best way to cook the haunch is to lard it well with bacon fat and then roast it in Turkish fashion, skewered through with a stick.

The above applies to gazelles as well, as these animals have no fat except round their kidneys. This is also the best way to cook all birds, but the larding may be omitted.

Jan. 7.—This morning, having bade adieu to the missionaries, we started for Gindar by a short cut across the hills. The missionaries are making this road, but the jungle is not all cut yet. Our guide was Brou, the interpreter that Kirkham had given us as a servant.

Having travelled up the gorge, we passed the hot spring. Here the missionaries have built a little house for the poor sick who come to bathe. Pushing our way through thick thorny jungle we came suddenly on a beautiful valley, green and fresh-looking, with high hills in the background, one of which we were to cross to reach Gindar. In the distance, on the side of a hill, might be seen the station of Sabargouma, where three or four Egyptian soldiers are stationed to look after the customs and Egyptian interests.

On descending the valley I resolved to try to shoot, as it looked a likely place for game, so I got my rifle and gun and started with Mahomed, the Massowah boy. Kirkham had given us a black, fat-tailed sheep of the Asmarra breed, a celebrated one in Abyssinia; this animal followed me and assisted at the death of another dik-dik. We never killed this black sheep for eating, and he accompanied us all through Abyssinia and became a great pet in camp. I found H. at Sabargouma, where we had a little gin and water. Fisk said he saw a large hyena, but the cunning brute soon slipped out of sight. He shot a specimen or two for his collection. We then started to ascend the steep hill in front of us; this was a lovely ride, and it reminded me very much of the Himalayas without the beautiful rhododendrons that grow there. The latter part of the ride was through an olive grove. The air on the top of these hills is most exhilarating; I felt able to do anything, and my mind was busy imagining all kinds of sport and adventures in such a lovely country. About one in the afternoon we entered the small valley of Gindar.

Before I go on with the journey I wish to say a little concerning Gindar, and what General Kirkham proposes doing there. Gindar is a fertile valley enclosed by hills; south-south-west lies Debra Bizen, which rears its head high above the rest of the hills. There is a monastery on the top, and the monks are said to be rich and in great favour with King Johannes. The grass in the valley is very good; at the time I speak of, the Shoho Arabs had driven their flocks here to graze; and their cattle-stations are found dotted about in the little vales between the hills. The grass of the valley is intermixed with numerous sweet-smelling herbs, such as wild peppermint, thyme, etc.; the castor-oil plant also grows wild here.

The sides of the hills are covered with wild olive groves, and in places we came across velvety lawns which reminded us of a well-kept English pleasure ground rather than the wilds of Abyssinia. Game is abundant, and elephants were in the neighbourhood, as the hunters from Adowa had been here. One of them having broken his clumsy matchlock, was obliged to return to get it mended. Koodoo, gazelle, dik-dik, and other antelopes abound, as well as many large pigs, and, as the Irishman is made to say, guinea-fowl and partridges here "jostle each other." This was, of all others, the place for us, so we determined to stay for two or three days.

Gindar has been given by the king to General Kirkham, who has built a house, and has also allowed the missionaries to build one. He intends trying to start a bazaar and small town to supply travellers going and coming to Massowah; and also to supply the Abyssinian merchants with the little European necessaries they require there without having to go into Egyptian territory to buy them, which at present they have to do at Massowah.

I thought I would take a turn with my gun; it was a misty evening, and too late to go out shooting. I wandered over the hills, and, the light failing, I was "making tracks" for home; it got darker and darker, and the mist got thicker. The little Galla boy that Kirkham had sent with me to show me the way, was a stranger to these hills; he never lost heart once nor spoke a word: at last he uttered a sort of whine; I then knew I had better trust to myself. I had seen, about a quarter of an hour before, the light of the fires of an Arab cattle station; I resolved to try and see the light again; so I fired my gun off twice to attract the attention of those in camp, but I was between hills, and they did not hear. I was pushing through the wet bushes when down I slipped, head over heels, on some creeper-covered rocks, but I picked myself up, with no harm beyond a fright. I was determined to find the light again; and, forcing my way through the jungle, as it was getting intensely dark, all of a sudden I again fell. This time I fell about twenty feet. The Galla boy was more careful, and, seeing me fall, crept along on his hands and knees, feeling his way as he went. I clutched hold of the creepers that grew on the rocks, and picked myself up. I heard water gurgling beneath, and I thought to myself it was lucky I did not fall farther, for I might have fared worse this time. I lost my felt hat, but the most extraordinary result of these false steps was that my little 16-bore gun, which I had with me, was not the least hurt, although it received several serious blows against the stones. At last I caught a glimpse of the welcome light. The cattle station was in a little vale: the smell of the cattle now guided me, and I soon found myself alongside of the thorny hedge that surrounded these camps. The women were preparing the evening meal, and when they saw me without any hat, and looking rather scared, began to laugh. This I thought unkind, so I pushed through the thorn hedge and went straight to one of the little fires. An old Arab was squatting by it. I was streaming with perspiration, and very thirsty. I asked him for a drink, and he brought me some water in a wooden bowl; no iced champagne ever tasted so good, and I swallowed it all; then I took off my coat to dry, having made up my mind that I was to stop here for the night. At least here was a fire and a chance of some food—better than the wet jungle in any case.

The old Arab seemed to understand I was going to make myself comfortable for the night, and he went and fetched two others, younger ones, and by signs and saying the word Gindar, I made them understand that I was lost. They said they would show me the way home if I gave backsheesh. I showed them the empty lining of my pockets; one does not generally take out small change when going shooting in Africa, but this only shows how useful it is. At last they agreed to show me the way for a dollar, and the Galla boy and myself started for home; about half-way we met a Greek that Kirkham had sent out to look for me, carrying a lantern, accompanied by some native servants. I soon reached home, and Kirkham congratulated me that my first adventure in Abyssinia had not ended worse.

Our little dinner was a pleasant one, as it was increased in number by the presence of an ex-French navy captain who had joined the Commune and now was an exile in Abyssinia. He was a wild-looking old fellow, but a wonderful talker; and he and I chatted away gaily. He had come from Adowa, and, having very little money, was nearly starved on the road. He looked very pinched, and certainly disposed of a wonderful amount of our preserved provisions with great gusto.

Jan. 8.—This morning I went out to look for pigs. I was wandering about the jungle, when I saw an animal on some rising ground, quite the size of a donkey. Whether it was the position of the ground or that the old boar—for such it turned out to be—was very large, I do not know; at all events I mistook him for a donkey, and did not fire. He whisked up his little curly tail and trotted off, followed by his spouses and some squeakers. I ran up, but they were soon lost in the thick bushes. Naturally, I was dreadfully annoyed, and resolved to let fly at everything in future.

I saw no end of guinea-fowl, but did not fire, being on the look-out for larger game. After wandering about for an hour or so, I came to the little vale in which the cattle station was, the scene of my adventure of the night before.

An old sow and two squeakers were there, enjoying the green grass. I came on them rather suddenly, and the squeakers trotted off, but as the old sow moved after them, I broke her back with a ball from my little 16-bore Purdey; she was a very old lady, with good tusks. Both the boars and sows in this part of the world have fine tusks; the boars' tusks only differing by being larger. She died very game; and as I twice drove my knife into her throat, she was very quick with her tusks and once nearly caught my shin. I lost the rest of the afternoon's shooting, having to send back the only boy I had with me to camp, to ask for people to carry the game home. We had liver and bacon for breakfast the next morning, and it was excellent; also pork chops.

Jan. 9.—This morning, after breakfast, I went out shooting, accompanied by Brou, and saw some dik-dik, but did not fire at them, as I had already killed three specimens. We came to a large hole in a bank, not unlike a fox-earth, and I heard some beasts running about inside, which Brou said were pigs. I never heard of pigs going to ground before, but he assured me they did so in Abyssinia.

He and I set to work to stop the hole, and we put a boy over it to watch. I retired to a shady spot, and told Brou to go home and send me out some lunch, and bring people (some of our bullock-drivers and donkey-men) to try to dig out and unearth the pigs, or whatever they were. In due course of time the lunch appeared, and, shortly after, Brou, with some Shoho Arabs, our drivers. We tried very hard to get at the animals, but they beat us; the earth was too deep, and ran in among roots; the soil also was very hard for digging with such wretched tools as the Arabs brought. I longed for an English ferreter with his spade.

A Greek, named Aristides, who is engaged here for cutting wild olives for the Khedive of Egypt, came to see Kirkham. This Greek employs Abyssinians to cut the wood and send it to Egypt, where, I am told, his Highness uses it for parquet floors. I induced him to mount a spear-head I had brought out with me, on a stout stick, and it looked very well and serviceable. He said he would go out shooting with me next morning; and, as he knew every inch of the ground round Gindar, I was delighted.

The following morning we both started off at cock-crow, while the dew was on the ground, for a hill lying behind Kirkham's shanty, which he had built here. It was rather steep walking, but a lovely morning and as fresh as possible.

The Greek was in front of me tracking up a herd of Hagazin or Koodoo, when he suddenly stopped and aimed at something with my rifle that he was carrying for me. I stepped up as gently and quickly as I could, took the rifle and fired at a red-looking deer; the animal dropped like a stone. I rushed down the steep bank, and found the bullet had gone right through its head between the horns. I could not account for this, as I had aimed behind the shoulder. The Greek said that at the moment I fired, the deer turned its head round and looked at me; as the animal was standing a good deal below me, this must have been the case.

It was a wonderfully lucky shot; as, if the deer had bounded a few yards away wounded, the bushes in this part were so dense that it would have been rather hard to find the game. This antelope turned out to be a bush-buck, called in Abyssinia Doucoula.

The Greek and I then went to the top of the hill, having cut up and skinned the deer and sent a boy home with it; it was a heavy load for him. My companion showed me a little bird, the honey-bird, that kept flying backwards and forwards in front of us, seemingly to lead us on. Aristides explained to me that this little bird not only leads on sportsmen to the nest of the wild bee, but also to the lairs of wild animals. Shortly afterwards the Greek stopped, and I noticed he had seen something; they were the koodoo we had been tracking up, though I did not see them myself.

When we got to the top of the hill the view was lovely. The valley of Sabargouma lay in the distance, and beyond it the low hills between us and the sea-coast. We then returned to camp, and on the way back I took a shot at a pig with my little 16-bore gun. We had a haunch of the venison for dinner; it was very good, but without fat.

The rain poured down the best part of the night; and, unluckily, we had put our beds at that end of the shanty which was most leaky. I woke up and found myself enjoying a shower-bath from the roof. H. was much in the same plight, and we were both glad when morning broke.

Jan. 12.—A good breakfast and some hot cocoa soon warmed us up, and we started for Beatmohar, the place where General Kirkham has a house. This is the first table-land of Abyssinia that one comes to, travelling by this route. Our luggage was now carried by mules, donkeys, and bullocks, driven by Shoho Arabs. It rained the whole day, so the view of the hills was spoilt, which I regretted very much. At the sides of the hills at the feet of which the path wound, it was covered with a gigantic Euphorbia, called Qualqual in Abyssinia; it is a sort of cactus, or grows like cactus, to the height of forty feet or more. When its branches are wounded, a milky juice oozes out, which is highly poisonous; if the least drop gets into one's eye it nearly blinds one. In India, in 1870, when shooting in the Himalayas, I was amusing myself with my hunting-knife by slashing at a plant, very much like this one; a drop of the juice squirted into my eye. One of the hunters, a native, brought me a sort of creeper with a leaf much like a vine. He screwed up the stalk of it, and catching the juice in the palm of his hand, offered me some, and told me to put it in my eye; it afforded instantaneous relief. I do not think this cure is known to the Abyssinians, as their woodcutters sometimes lose their eyesight. Later in the day, as we reached a higher altitude, we saw no more of this poisonous plant. We travelled on slowly through the mist and rain, the bullocks slipping about over the rocks, and frequently having to be reloaded, or the leather thongs which bound their baggage tightened up.

At last we came to an open dell in the hills, one of the camping-places on this road, called Mehdet. Kirkham and myself with great difficulty, and after wasting a number of matches, managed to light a fire, and we warmed up some cold venison, frying it in oil that Kirkham produced. H. did not like the dish, saying that it tasted like hair grease; he preferred the venison au naturel: we ate a box of sardines, and then started again. The road became very steep; at four in the afternoon we reached the top of the pass, a narrow gully between high rocks: there would be just room for two men to walk abreast.

The road after this for a short way was very good, like a good hill-road in the Himalayas. At the bottom of this road was a small valley, called Maihenzee: this was to be our camping-place for the night, and one of the stages between Asmarra and Gindar. This was the place where merchants from the interior generally stop on their way to Massowah.

There was good water in the valley; we pitched our tents, but everything was wet and miserable. Kirkham told us that to-morrow we should be out of these rains, which I was very thankful to hear.

The cook Ali, a Cairo man, who, like all his species, did not relish this sort of life, but wished himself on board a comfortable diabeha navigating the Nile and smoking cigarettes in the sun, made a bad fire, and I saw very little prospect of dinner. I had to take his place; and I concocted some soup with the help of Liebig's extract, and I made a venison stew. We ate this and then turned in as quickly as we could, before our blankets got wet with the mist.