A GENERAL BATH—RELIGIOUS PROCESSION—THE GAME OF GOUX—DINNER-PARTY IN A STABLE—ETIQUETTE—GRAM—FRENCH LEAVE—HOSTILITIES—A PARLEY AND RECONCILIATION—NATIVE BEER—A WHIRLWIND—CULTIVATION—ROADS—FINE SCENERY—A TALISMAN—A FIANCÉE—CAPTURE OF A GUIDE—ROBBERS AND THEIR PUNISHMENT—THE CROPS—CAMP ON THE MAREB—TOMATOS—LIONS—A NARROW ESCAPE—SPEAR THROWING.

Jan. 18.—To-day, after breakfast, I overhauled most of my things, guns, fishing-tackle, etc., and put them in good order. The old soldier that Belata Keda Kedan had sent with us was much interested in all he saw. I asked him if he would like to go to England. He replied, "I would go to your country if you would give me lots of tej and arakÉ, and nothing to do." It was very amusing to see him admiring his face in a little toy looking-glass that H. had given him. He was to leave us here (Koudoofellassie), so we gave him a present of ten Maria Theresa dollars, and he went his way rejoicing.

Borum Braswouldeselassie had come to see us before breakfast; he did not stop long, as he said he had to go with his soldiers and followers to attend the feast of Baptism. On this day all the population of the town go down to the river and bathe; the priests pray, and I believe bathe also. After we had taken breakfast Brou told us that if we went a little way out of camp into the town we should see the priests and procession returning from the river. We stood on the top of a high mound, and very soon heard a most discordant braying of horns in the distance. The procession now approached, the priests bearing the sacred image of the Virgin, with a canopy held over it; little boys were walking in front with incense. They were singing a monotonous chant alternately, the women all taking it up at one time and the men at another. Borum Braswouldeselassie and his horsemen were in front of the procession, galloping about with their horses and firing off their guns. The whole thing, except for the horsemen, looked very much like a Roman Catholic procession. They marched past us up to the church, and we saw them no more. K. said that on occasions of this sort the Abyssinian horsemen play a game called goux, so I begged of him to send a message to Borum Braswouldeselassie, asking him to send some of his soldiers to play the game, in order that we might see it. About three or four came out on a flat piece of ground, which was the market-place, and commenced galloping their horses at full speed and throwing their sticks at each other like spears, receiving them on their shields. I believe there is a Turkish game, called Jerrid, which is much the same thing. Their horses were wretched specimens—thin, bony screws, that could not gallop as fast as a person could kick his hat. I asked one of them if he would let me get up and try the game. So one of my servants asked, "Will you lend the Feringee your horse?" He said, "The Feringee! oh no," and galloped away as hard as he could. When we had seen this, we determined to go and pay a visit to Borum Braswouldeselassie. We found him just about to sit down to his dinner, and he asked us to join him. My readers must not imagine a table and chairs at this entertainment, as the dinner was held in a stable; Borum Braswouldeselassie and his family sitting on the ground. The first thing they began to eat was some "tef"—a sort of spongy, sour bread, made in large thin cakes. This they dipped into a paste of red pepper, and ate it with their fingers. Borum Bras. had some very good "tej," of which we drank. There was also some stewed meat, which was broken up in bits by the servants with their fingers, and then the dish was given to the lady of the house, who divided the portions equally and handed them to each member of the family as well as to the guests. The enormous quantity of bread and red pepper of the most pungent kind which Abyssinians manage to get through is something extraordinary; they wash it down with plenty of "tej," which is a capital thing to take away the fiery heat the red pepper creates in the mouth. The correct thing to do at an Abyssinian dinner is to take a large bit of bread or meat in your hand and stuff it into your neighbour's mouth; this is considered the acme of good manners; also, your first glass of "tej" is generally handed to you by the master of the house.

In the evening H. and myself went out shooting, K. having told us that there were some grouse in the low hills near camp, and I shot at a young bird, but missed. The old cocks were calling just in the same way they do on a Scotch moor—the same note, but not quite so strong. I tried to approach some more, but it was very steep walking in some places, and the birds were exceedingly wild.

Jan. 19.—To-day was market-day at Koudoofellassie, and Brou and myself, on our way to our next camp, stopped under the shade of a small tree round which the market was held. The people were coming in fast with honey and butter, corn of different sorts, sulphur for making powder, etc. etc. The country folks directly they arrived squatted down in a line. I tried to buy a jar of honey, but of course they stuck on the price for the Feringee. About eleven A.M., or perhaps a little before, I started with Brou for Adgousmou, the next village we were to stop at. Goubasee, who was my gun-bearer, walked the whole time in front of my mule; I stopped under a tree for about fifteen minutes and then went on. This was a long march, and we were going fast. Goubasee eventually turned out to be, as I had thought he was, a wonderful walker, always in front of everybody in the longest march, and never shirking any difficulty that came in his way; in fact, he was a most faithful and useful servant, the only Abyssinian among our crew whom I could really depend upon. The country we were going through was table-land intersected by broad ravines.

My servants pointed me out two large trees in the distance; near these they said was the village of Adgousmou. Abyssinian servants have quite an original way of provisioning as they march along. If they pass any cornfields, particularly the Indian gram, they run into the corn and take as much as they want, not only for their own eating, but for their master's mules. This is done regardless of the shouts and imprecations of the boys who are sent out from the villages to watch the corn, perched in some places on a high heap of stones, in others on a rude platform supported on forked poles. This same gram, if the pods when quite green are well-boiled, makes an excellent substitute for peas. Before going up to the village of Adgousmou we crossed a stream, where I shot a spurwing and a pigeon very like our common wood-pigeon, only not quite so large. I killed these birds in case H. should not turn up after my arrival with the tents, provisions, etc. I then rode into the village and asked for the chicker. He soon came, and was a fine-looking old man. I asked him for some bread for my servants; he said he had none—a reply that was plainly untrue. He then sent for a bowl of sour milk, which was very nasty. I gave it to Goubasee, who soon polished it off and seemed to enjoy it immensely. The old chicker and I sat in silence for some little time enjoying the view, at least I did, and at length I arose and went away, as I saw no prospect of getting anything out of the old niggard. I settled the camp should be near some trees outside the village; a ruined village also, probably the old village of Adgousmou, was close by. I made the servants light a fire, and I sat down to consider; but I soon began to feel very hungry. What was to be done? I had nothing to eat, when I suddenly bethought myself of my two birds. But how to cook them? I adopted the old poacher's plan of spitting them on the ramrod of my rifle, and made Mahomed, the Massowah boy, roast me some corn I had taken with me for my mule. With these victuals I made a tolerably fair lunch, washed down with water—fames optimum condimentum, as the Latin grammar says. It was getting late in the day and I was becoming bored, so I said to Brou, who had been loitering behind on the road and had not long come up, "We had better go to the village to forage, as perhaps there has been a difficulty about getting our baggage carried on from Koudoofellassie, and the things will not come up to-night." He answered, "Very well." So we all started to the village.

I went up to the old chicker's house and asked for bread, or, in fact, anything that he had. His wife—who was as big a liar as himself—told me that she had nothing. So I went straight in and took a large jug of beer and a jar of honey, gave them to my servants to carry, and walked back towards our future camping-place. The old lady now began to yell, and the other women of the village joined in chorus. The men in the village all turned out with spears, shields, guns, sticks, etc., and surrounded us, making a horrid noise. They managed to get the beer away from us, but we stuck to the honey, and one of the servants and myself brought it to the tree where I had been sitting. The natives continued yelling, and Brou tried to pacify them. Some of the young fellows said, "We will die! we will die! but you shall not keep the honey"—Brou having told them I would shoot if they tried to molest me. The noise went on, and I thought it was likely to get serious, when suddenly there was a lull, and a priest stepped out from the crowd and requested a parley with me. I went up to him, and he made me a bow and said something in Amharic, which it is needless to say I did not understand. The Abyssinians are Coptic Christians, and I thought I would try him with a text from the Bible; so I said, "I asked for bread, and they gave me a stone." I never before saw a man's face change so completely; Brou had interpreted the sentence exactly. The priest then said, "You speak like a king; these people are only dirt in comparison with you," etc. Well, it all ended by my keeping the honey, and the villagers returning to their houses. We made up a good fire. Brou produced some bread, which I ate with the honey; it was excellent—stolen fruit is always the sweetest. I piled the arms near the fire, rolled myself up in a shama of Brou's, and lay down on a sheepskin to go to sleep. I had almost dozed off when H. arrived with all the baggage. The reason he was so late was that the men at Koudoofellassie demanded exorbitant prices. We have now twenty coolies and three donkeys to carry into Adiaboo. K. made this arrangement: so we shall have no more trouble for some little time. Borum Bras. brought with him a man chained to one of his soldiers; this individual, who was, I believe, a murderer, was going to the king to be tried. The law in Abyssinia is the old Mosaic one—"an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."

Jan. 20.—We started about half-past nine in the morning, accompanied by Borum Bras., the chief, and all his followers. He was to go with us as far as the boundary of his province, and there leave us. He rode a very fine mule, with his horse led in front of him. The mule turned out to be a fencer; Borum Bras. popping over a thorn hedge in very good form as we went along. We stopped for a short rest at Adwahla, a village, and Borum Bras. made his followers bring us some beer, which is made from the Dargousa grain. I thought it very nasty, but my servants soon drank it all. I saw a rather curious phenomenon here: there was a sudden rush of wind, then in a moment we were enveloped in a cloud of dust. It was one of those whirlwinds which very often occur in the East, especially on broad plains. There is not a breath of wind stirring, but, all of a sudden, you see a little curl of dust coming towards you; and it gets larger and larger as it proceeds. All the dust of the village was carried up in a column towards the skies. One of Borum Bras.'s servants, on seeing this, immediately covered me up in the cotton cloth he was wearing; and I scarcely know which was worse, the smell of the Abyssinian's garment or that of the dust.

All the country we had been travelling through was highly cultivated, and the ballagas were, as far as I could see, breaking up fresh land every day for sowing; in fact, I should say that the whole province of TigrÉ was in a very prosperous condition. It is a great pity such a country as this, which to all intents and purposes is close to Europe, should not be made use of in some way or other. Cotton would grow in most parts with great luxuriance; it is grown in the province of Walkait, and brought into the rest of Abyssinia by large caravans, who exchange it for grain, salt, etc. In the valleys among the hills I believe all sorts of things would grow, and in a short time I hope to send out seeds of all the English vegetables, to make a trial of them at Gindar. There is one plant which would return very high profits to the growers, and that is cinchona, for quinine. Where plenty of water is to be had I am sure this plant would do well. Of course the great drawback to all commerce in Abyssinia is the badness of the roads; in fact, there are no roads, merely paths across the table-lands, and as a rule among the hills the roads follow the dry watercourses.

When Borum Bras. and his servants had had enough beer we started again. He accompanied us to the verge of this large table-land we had been going over, and seemed very particular about the exact boundary of his province and the spot where to leave us. We got off our mules and said, "Good-bye," shaking hands with him. He wished us a pleasant journey and abundant sport; and so we parted with the most civil Abyssinian I had yet met. The ground fell very suddenly here, and we began to descend a rocky road. If I could only make the reader appreciate the beautiful scenery that now lay spread before us! but I am afraid that words would convey but a poor idea of its grandeur and beauty; so we must continue on our road. Some parts of the descent were so steep that I had to get off my mule and walk. We had thoughtlessly omitted to bring cruppers for our saddles, so we often found ourselves nearly astride of the mule's head instead of his back; the only way to remedy this was to get off and shift the saddle, which was tiresome work. K. told me that this was a fearful hill to ascend during the rains, the mules slipping about and tumbling down. We got to our camping-place about two hours before sunset—a pretty spot with plenty of grass, and the water came from deep pools close by. I took my gun and went for a stroll but saw nothing, and I only heard an old cock grouse calling. H. had gone in an opposite direction, but he too had seen nothing to provide sport.

Jan. 21.—This morning we had time to look about us before starting; the township of Gundet lay scattered over the little hills which rose out of this valley. I resolved to go up to the village and procure a goat and some bread. K. had provided us with a document which was stamped with the king's seal; this, when the Abyssinians saw it, had the effect of making them give what was wanted. The king seldom if ever gives his seal to any one; and the seal itself, from which the impression is taken, is carried about hung round the neck of one of his page boys. I started with Goubasee and Brou for one of the cluster of huts I saw on the top of the hill; the servants said it was there the chief of the village resided. The ascent was steep, but we caught the old gentleman sitting outside his house basking in the morning sun; no doubt he would have bolted if he had had any intimation of our coming. We said, "How d'ye do?" and then I showed him the king's seal, and said we wanted a young fat goat, of which there are large herds here. The cattle of Gundet are also very fine. He said if we would come into his house he would talk about it. Well-to-do Abyssinians always have a large round hut set apart for the reception of visitors. His son produced some "tej," which was very good, and turning round to his father just before pouring it out he said laughingly, "I don't know whether we ought to be drinking this tej, which is made for my marriage feast." I asked him if his future wife was pretty; he said, "Oh, yes, and she has plenty of cattle." This is the usual dowry in Abyssinia, especially among the ballagas; so my readers will see that people in that country marry for a fortune as much as ours do at home.

H. and K. now came up to the house. The fat goat was brought and given to one of the servants to drive before him; and we started for the Mareb, where we were going to stay a little time to shoot. There was a difficulty about finding our way, so we took a guide from one of the villages as we passed. This man did not seem to understand where we wanted to go to, and took us to another village, rather out of our road. Here we had a dispute, as a man from this village refused to go with us as guide; we tied him by his shama to our first guide, and sent them on in front of our mules. All the women and some of the men in the village remonstrated and made a great noise, chattering and yelling to the top of their voices; when I ran in among them and pushed them right and left. This effectually stopped the noise, and we continued our journey in peace, while K. was much amused at my proceedings.

We passed by Aila Mareb, a village on the side of the hill. This is the last village before entering the desert, as the Abyssinians call all wild jungle; that is to say, parts of the country that are not inhabited. On the right of the path we were travelling along rose a large hill, with a table-land at the top. The peculiar shape of it struck me very much; as another ridge rose on the table-land, it looked in the distance like a vast breastwork. This hill overlooks a large jungled plain through which the Mareb runs—celebrated at one time as the abode of a noted "shifter," or robber, who defied the king's troops for some time and used to ravage the villages lying near the plain. He was caught at last; and the king said he would not kill him, as it was a pity to send him out of the world without giving him time to repent. So his eyes were put out with a hot iron, and he was allowed to live among his family and friends. This is a good instance of Abyssinian subtlety and cruelty.

Our road now lay through thick jungle, and in some parts high grass. The hills soon ceased, and we found ourselves in the valley of the Mareb. All of a sudden, on emerging from the thick jungle, we came on a fallow field; the crop had been reaped, and was stacked close by. The ballagas living near the valley of the Mareb very often sow crops after the rains, as the soil by the side of the river is very fertile indeed. This crop is watched by small boys of the village, to protect it from birds, deer, elephants, etc., but in many cases the best part of it is destroyed. The crop, or rather crops—for sometimes they reap two or three—are so heavy that it does not greatly matter if a little is eaten. The dry bed of the Mareb was at the bottom of this field, and thick, impenetrable jungle rose up on all sides, so we agreed to camp in the open field by the bank of the river.

I said the river was dry; by this I mean that the water runs under the sand, and is got at by making a hole, when it gradually filters through. The water is excellent for drinking, and deliciously cool. I ordered my servants to make a large hole in the sand, and the water here I arranged should be kept apart for our own drinking; no one was either to wash in it or foul it in any way. It is a very good plan when near a stream to make your servants do all their washing, etc., down the stream, so as to keep the water as pure as possible for your own drinking. The time we spent on the Mareb I shall always look back to with great pleasure. Our little camp was very conveniently fixed. The jungle here teemed with all sorts of most beautiful birds, including partridges and guinea-fowl in abundance. The little sandgrouse used to come in flocks every evening to drink from the scattered pools along the river-bed. The jungle also gave us most delicious wild tomatos, and as it was the dry season it had up to this time been almost impossible to procure any green vegetables, except the gram before mentioned. These tomatos were very acceptable, they were the sweetest I ever ate, far better in flavour than our own cultivated ones; we used to make excellent salads with them, and also get them stewed. I had felt the want of green vegetables very much, and I am persuaded that, in a hot country, eating largely of provisions preserved in tins is not at all good.

The ballaga to whom the field belonged in which we were camped said a lion used frequently to come and bask in the sun and look at him while he was at his work, not taking the smallest notice. There must have been some of these animals about, as we used to see fresh tracks almost every day; but, alas! not one single one did we catch sight of the whole time; and as all sportsmen know who have been in Africa, there is no animal so hard to discover or get near when seen. The lion is scarcely the noble beast which is seen represented in pictures, or read of in nursery books and fables; on the contrary, he feeds on carrion when he can get it, and sneaks away at the approach of man. The tiger in India is a much finer animal. In the evening I went a few hundred yards out of camp down the river, and shot an old cock guinea-fowl and a brace of small sandgrouse. These latter were most lovely little birds, and Fisk preserved one for H.'s collection.

NARROW ESCAPE OF GOUBASEE.
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