A LONG MARCH—A NATIVE GARDEN—COOLIES AND THE WAY TO TREAT THEM—MARKETS—A BATTLE-FIELD—COOL SHADE—"THE FIRST POST"—SHIELDS AND SPEARS—JOHN—POTATOES—SILVERSMITHS—A NEW FRIEND—COOLIE SQUABBLES—AN APPEAL—DONKEY BUYING—SHOE-MAKING—A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF OUR ROUTE—SOURCES OF THE TACKAZZEE—MARRIAGE FESTIVITIES—I TURN SURGEON—A MUSICAL PARTY—MY REPUTATION AS A DOCTOR.

Jan. 29.—To-day we made a very long march, in fact, the longest we had made since we had been in the country. We started at 7 o'clock in the morning, leaving the village of Zadawalka on our right, and we struck across the table-land in front of us, which was intersected by a large ravine. The scenery on the table-land was lovely, and the streams became more frequent. Towards the middle of the day we reached a very extensive plain; in the distance might be seen the high-peaked hill which marks Adiaboo. It is just below this, and in the shade of a large tree, that the market of Adiaboo is held every Saturday. The principal village on the plain was one called Sememmar. We got off our mules and went to forage among the houses for some honey; and the natives sold us a large gumbo, or jar, full of honey, for a dollar. They were very civil, but, as usual, our servants amused themselves by purloining as many little things and eatables as they could lay their hands on. We agreed to camp by a stream which was a little way on, and where the table-land ended, called Maihumloo. The descent down into the little valley, or ravine, was very pretty, and when we got down to the bottom the country was almost like a pleasure-ground, rills of trickling water ran across our path, and various shrubs bearing sweet-smelling flowers grew in every direction; it only wanted neat gravel walks to make it the most perfect of gardens. We fixed our camp by the side of the stream. Any future traveller would know the spot very well, as a white-faced rock rises up from the stream, with bushes growing over it.

An old lady in the village had asked me if I should like to buy some Dargousa spirit; I told her if she liked to bring it down to our camp that I would purchase it. Accordingly she followed us down and produced two bottles of this native spirit, which I thought would be a good thing to give to our coolies, as they had had an exceedingly long march and were completely done up, and when we halted they most of them lay down unable to move. One of them was utterly exhausted, and said he was dying. I imagined it would be a good idea to serve them all with honey, of which they are very fond, and accordingly I made them come forward, and gave them each a large handful of honey. Directly the dying coolie heard that this honey was being given he appeared to get wonderfully better, and jumped up and came for his share. He had given a good deal of trouble on the march and always lagged behind, calling on the other coolies to carry his load; so I said he was not to have any, and I did not give him any. These natives have to be treated like children in every respect. I had arrived at the place where I fixed the camp a little before H., and, hearing some wild geese cackling up the stream, I took my gun and went to try to bag one of them for dinner. I fired at them and missed. Not many seconds after firing H. appeared from behind some bushes, and we discovered we had both been stalking the same geese. It is very lucky I did not pepper him. He seemed a little annoyed; but this sort of thing very often occurs when two fellows are shooting together in a wild country. I went out by myself afterwards to try and get some partridges, as I heard a few calling to each other near camp. I managed to kill a brace, and they proved very acceptable food after our long and tedious march.

Half-way on our journey here we came to the market-place of Sememmar; the market is held in a sort of hollow dell by the side of the path that we travelled along. It was a very picturesque sight looking down on the market, the people seated round the sides of a hill like an amphitheatre. Of course we got down to inspect the wares offered for sale: beads, needles, buttons, were among the articles, as well as antimony for blacking the eyebrows and eyelashes of Abyssinian ladies. There was also a good deal of cotton and grain for sale. The only thing I purchased was a native sword, which cost a dollar, and which I handed over to Goubasee, my gun-bearer, to carry for me. This sword was made, like some of the Indian tulwars, of very soft iron, but sharpened like a razor. Its shape was well adapted for cutting, slightly curved, and the back of the broad blade was heavy and thick. The worst part of an Abyssinian sword is its handle, which is made of wood, with no guard whatsoever. Generally, when a native goes into battle, he ties the handle of his sword round his wrist with a piece of rag or handkerchief. There is also another description of sword which they carry. This is a much lighter one, and very much curved, even more so than a Turkish scimitar. I had no opportunity of seeing a native use the sword. What they seemed to excel in most was throwing the spear.

Jan. 30.—This morning we did not start till much later, as the whole of the party were rather knocked up by the march of the day before. The country was very lovely that we travelled through. The path rose until we found ourselves on a very extensive plain: as we travelled over it, one of my gun-bearers pointed out a place, south of the route we pursued, where the king of Abyssinia had had a great battle with the Gallas, on which occasion three hundred of the Galla horsemen rode over a sheer precipice, nearly every one of them being killed. I trotted on across the plain towards Adiaboo, and the large peaked hill appeared nearer and nearer. I forgot to say that, before we started this morning, I managed to bag one of the wild geese which we had seen, and stalked unsuccessfully, the night before. These birds are most excellent eating, and they and the partridges are nearly the best food in the shape of game that is found in Abyssinia, but the guinea-fowl are nearly always tough.

It was market-day at Adiaboo, a much larger affair than at Sememmar the day before, and a considerable gathering of people were here, all chattering and making a great noise, it being the busiest time. I asked some of the bystanders where K. was, and where our camp was pitched. They pointed a little farther on, and I soon saw K.'s tent and a "das" built close by. A das is a sort of bower made of boughs which Abyssinian servants in a very short time put up. It is made of four tall forked poles; over these are laid boughs which are again interlaced with other boughs. It makes a delightfully cool shade for the middle of the day, and we always used to live in one when we were in camp during the day, but of course we slept in our tent at night. A "das" was very necessary here, as there was no shade to be found for some distance round. K. was very pleased to see us. He had come a shorter route, and his party had almost lost their way and been very hard pressed for water. He said he had been very ill on the journey, and scarcely able to ride his mule. The black sheep that, my readers will remember, we had made a pet of was completely worn out, and was carried, the greater part of the journey, by one of the servants.

K. had told me that Rass Barea, the chief of TigrÉ, had written to the chief of Adiaboo to say that hunters were to be placed at our disposal, and that men were to accompany us down into the country where elephants and other large game were to be found. Adik, the chief of Adiaboo, was in camp ready to pay his compliments and to ask us what we wanted. He and his followers all sat on the ground a short way off, with their shamas thrown across their shoulders and covering their mouths; this is always considered, in Abyssinia, a most dignified position. Here we found letters from home waiting for us, which of course we were very pleased to get. Any scrap of news from his own country and friends, to a traveller quite out of the march of civilisation, is a great luxury. H. had not come in when I arrived, as I had gone on rather fast in front of him: there were also letters for him, so I took them and walked a little way out of the camp to meet him with them, and never saw anybody so delighted; in fact, we were both in the best of spirits. After I had read the letters, I asked K. to come round the market of Adiaboo with me to see the people, and also to look if there was anything worth buying.

The large tree, mentioned before, was the centre of attraction, and those who brought horses with them had them tied up under the shade of the tree. The tree was hung all round with shields, some for sale and others belonging to the owners of the horses; as every Abyssinian, whenever he goes even the shortest way from home, always takes with him his shield and his spear—just in the same way as an Irishman carries his stick. I bought two shields for five dollars; one I gave to Goubasee, my gun-bearer, and the other to Guyndem, my second gun-bearer: they both seemed mightily pleased and proud, and said they would take the greatest care of them. The shields were made of the skin of a species of large deer; they were thick and tough. The old merchant from whom I bought them was a very communicative person; he had a large silver ring on his finger which I admired; he very kindly took it off, and said he would give it to me. I, of course, said no; but, as he still pressed, I said, well, I would pay him a little more for the shields—which arrangement he seemed to agree to. The rest of the day we spent in reading our letters and discussing the contents of all of them, and also in writing others in return, as there would be no chance of sending messengers to the post after we left Adiaboo.

A man named John—at least that was the name he went by—had come into our camp from Adowa; he was said to be the son of an Englishman who had been in the country some time before. He stood about six feet two, and would have been rather good-looking but that he was marked with small-pox. He brought a very welcome present to us, and that was some potatoes. These vegetables are only grown near Adowa, as it is only within a few years that they have been introduced into the country, to which they were brought by a Frenchman, whose name, we hope, will be as immortal as that of Sir Walter Raleigh. The potatoes were very small, in fact, wretched-looking things, but were excellent eating; and we were very glad to get them, as we had been excessively hard up for vegetables; in fact, we had had scarcely any since leaving Gindar. John said he would go down into the jungle with us. The only words of English he knew were, "How do you do?" and "Good morning," which he uttered whenever one addressed him. His trade was that of a silversmith, in Adowa, which I am told is a very lucrative one, as dollars are given to make into silver ornaments, such as the decorations of a shield, etc., and then as the dollars, which are already of rather base metal, are mixed with a good amount of tin, by the time the ornaments are made there is not much original metal left in them. Mansfield Parkyns, in his very entertaining book on Abyssinia, gives an account of the silversmiths at Adowa. One of the young chiefs at Adiaboo, a relation of Adik the old chief, also said he would go down into the jungle with us and help us to hunt. This young man was about eighteen or nineteen, and was accompanied by a sort of bear-leader, a much older Abyssinian, who, in fact, had been his tutor all his life—a man named Barrakee. This old fellow was chief of a small village on the frontiers of Abyssinia, and close to the Baria tribe. Some part of the Baria country is supposed to belong to Abyssinia; and Barrakee told us that he actually received tribute of wild honey and other small things from the Baria. This man played a very important part during the rest of our journey; and, when the young chief left us while we were on the Tackazzee, he chose to stay behind to help in the hunting and to guide us through this part of the country, which he knew very well.

Jan. 31.—To-day we killed a young cow in camp, and also paid our coolies who had come from Koudoofellassie. The coolies, after they had been paid, could not agree upon the division of some extra money that had been given them—in fact, the man who gave the most trouble about it was my old friend who had shammed ill while travelling up to our last camp. They all came to me to settle the dispute; and, after one party had arranged themselves on one side, and the other party on the other—the latter consisting of only one—I heard the cause of dispute. It was very clear that the coolie who had shammed ill wanted to get the best of his friends; so, as most of the rest were against him, I said, "Two heads are better than one—and you must give up your claim." The men in whose favour the decision had been given went away shouting, laughing, and dancing about; the beaten party retired rather crestfallen. I asked if any of them would volunteer to come down into the jungle with us. There was one young fellow among them who had always been first on the march, and when in camp always singing and laughing. I particularly wanted to get him as a servant; but he said he had a wife and family and could not manage to come. After a deal of persuasion I got one of them to stay, a man named Philookus. I think most of them thought that they had had enough of marching, and, if the marches in future were to be anything like the two former ones, they were quite right in turning back.

It is a great mistake, during travelling in rough countries, to force your marches; it not only tires yourself and harasses your coolies, but also wears out your beasts of burden, a most important consideration. The Italian proverb, Che va piano va sano, is daily exemplified when you are away from civilisation and railways. The best method is to start early in the morning, make a short march, and then rest during the heat of the day. After everybody and all the beasts are well rested start again, and get into camp in good time before the sun goes down, so as to get everything comfortable and snug for the night. By the bye, one is very much struck, on first arriving in the East, by the astonishment with which the natives receive an Englishman's protestations that he is in a hurry—that he must go on at once. I believe Arabs have a saying, in the spirit of which they certainly act, that "haste is devilish."

A number of little sand-grouse, early in the morning, had come circling round the tent and settling on some ploughed ground close to us; I went out and killed a brace and a half. These little birds are very good eating, one part of their flesh being white and the other brown. We agreed to-day that here at Adiaboo we should buy donkeys to carry our things down to the Tackazzee, so we told the chief to get us as many as he could. He said that to-morrow he would tell the people round to bring in what donkeys they had for sale. I went out in the evening into the marshy ground which lay below our camp, to try to get some snipe; I only saw one, but he was too far off for a shot. We had a very good dinner to-night, for we had killed fresh meat, which we were very glad to get, as the two days that we had been travelling we had had very little with us, although K. had made every preparation for us, and boiled down some excellent jelly, which he had corked up in a few empty gin-bottles and carefully placed in H.'s tin-case among his clothes; but, whether it was the heat or the shaking that the tin-case got on the journey I do not know: when we opened it, in order to take some jelly for soup, we found that the corks had flown out of the bottles, and a sort of mayonnaise had been made of H.'s socks, boots, and trousers. Such are the pleasures of rough travelling!

Feb. 1.—To-day we began buying donkeys, and a more disagreeable task I had never had to do; such haggling and bargaining as had to be undergone was enough to drive one mad. They brought up the donkeys sometimes singly and sometimes in pairs; we had on an average to pay six dollars a-piece for them, which was a great deal too much. This included the pads on which the package was strapped, and also the "mechanias," or leather thongs which strap the baggage on. The only thing to be assured of in buying donkeys is that they are not suffering from recent sores on their backs; and a very good way of testing their strength is to put both hands in the small of their back and to press down with all your weight: a good donkey's back will yield very little, but a bad one cannot bear it at all. Cassa, the man who had charge of our transport arrangements, helped me greatly in buying the donkeys. The very minute I bought one and paid for it I marked it by clipping a square patch on its rump with a pair of nail scissors: this was quite enough for all present purposes. The great difficulty was to make the natives bring the pads and straps, as without them of course the donkeys were perfectly useless. We here employed some servants in making sandals for themselves out of cow-skin that I had bought at Deevaroua; in fact, most of them asked me to allow them to make some, as the paths through the jungle are very thorny and stony, and not like travelling through the cultivated fields of TigrÉ. Plowden Gubrihote, H.'s gun-bearer, was shoe—or rather sandal—maker to the rest; he had been, when a little boy, servant to Consul Plowden, who was murdered in South Abyssinia, and he was a capital servant, but rather cowardly.

In the evening Barrakee, the young chief's tutor, proposed that we should go up to the top of a high-peaked hill close by, and see the country we were approaching. We rode up some distance, and at last had to get off our mules as the way became very steep. Certainly a more glorious view I never saw. To the north-west we could see the plains through which the Mareb runs, and to the south-west were the mountains among whose gorges that splendid river the Tackazzee flows; beyond the Tackazzee to the west, in fact in front of us, might be seen two mountains, one of which is of a very peculiar shape—these mark the province of Walkait. On the top of one of these mountains is a fort or stronghold which cannot be reached except by ropes—no human being can climb up to it. Due south of where we were standing lay crowded together that mass of mountains called the Siemien range, the tops of which, the natives informed us, were covered with snow the whole year round. This I cannot vouch for, as I certainly did not see any at that time; and I almost think, if there had been snow, it would have caught the rays of the setting sun, and it could have been seen quite distinctly. The Tackazzee rises in the Siemien from springs; at least, this I think and believe is the case, on the authority of an old servant we had with us, called Hadji Mahomet, who came from that part of the world. As we looked below us we could see the inmates of some huts that were clustered round the mountain engaged in celebrating a marriage. All the company were assembled in a large "das," or leafy bower, drinking and dancing, and every now and then a shot would be fired off in the air in celebration of the auspicious event. As I looked towards the distant view which lay before us I little thought that on my return journey I should be as anxious to get home as I was then to explore those regions. We waited till the sun set behind the mountains of Walkait, and then came down the hill and made for camp.

H. and I very much wished, before leaving the country, to try and get some black leopard skin, and some of the silver-mounted shields which are made at Adowa, and which are carried by the great chiefs of the country. K. said that if we wrote out an order and sent it to Adowa it would be attended to. I wrote out a couple of orders, one for the black leopard skins and the other for the shields, and we both signed them and got John to transcribe them into Amharic. While I was writing them he remarked that English writing was very quick and very different from writing Amharic, in which every letter has to be formed separately, in the same way as when we "print" with a pen in English.

Whenever we were in camp for two or three days in one place it was invariably the custom of the natives to bring their sick to be healed by the white men, or else to beg for medicines. They even on one occasion brought a cripple, carried in a sort of frame: I suppose they expected me to perform a miracle. On the present occasion a man came into camp with a large sore, about the size of the palm of one's hand, on his shin; he had evidently had it for some time, and the wound was covered with cow-dung, for what reason I do not know. I told him to go away and wash his leg and come back to me with it clean. I then consulted with Brou what was best to be done in the case. I had no caustic with me, so I determined to cauterize it with boiling grease. We had saved some fat from the cow we had killed; I took a portion of this, put it into a pan on the fire to boil, and I informed the man what I was going to do, and that it would hurt him a great deal, but that if he liked to let it be done he might. He said, "Do what you like; I do not care." The grease was very soon melted and bubbling; I took it off the fire and was going to apply it, when the servants, who were looking on with interest, thought it was too hot, and that I should hurt the man too much, so I let it get cold a little and poured it on to his leg. He did not seem to feel it, nor did he wince at all; so I said that would not do, and that next time I should give it him boiling hot. I put the pan on the fire again, and when next I poured the grease on, it fizzed and crackled in the same way that bacon does; but the most curious part of the operation was that the man, who a person would have supposed would have almost fainted with pain, only winced, much in the same way as people may be seen to do when they have had a tooth drawn.

It is difficult to explain this; but it is the case, that all the black races will endure many surgical operations of the roughest sort, but directly strong medicine is given them it seems to kill them at once. I made the man pour a little milk over the wound, gave him five rhubarb pills to take, and told him to go and lie down in the shade. I did not hear afterwards that he had died, so I think he must have recovered. I may as well tell the reader that I had a most excellent medicine-chest with me, and was very well provided with almost everything that was necessary. These are the different descriptions of drugs the chest contained:—A good quantity of quinine in two-grain pills, rhubarb pills, chlorodyne, a sedative solution of opium for diarrhoea, Warburg's fever tincture, spermaceti ointment, lint bandages, scissors, needles and silk for sewing up cuts, &c. But, notwithstanding all this provision of remedies I managed to get most terribly ill; indeed one might have a whole chemist's shop in one's possession, but, without proper food and comforts, all would be of little use.

Barrakee, who I believe was somewhat of a musician, was very anxious to hear me play on the banjo I had with me, so I got it and began playing: he and the young chief listened for some time, and then remarked that it was very like Shangalla music. The Shangalla, or Baria, are the nearest tribe of negroes to Abyssinia. Barrakee then sent for a sort of Abyssinian guitar, on which he commenced making a monotonous noise, and thus ended this rather eventful day.

Feb. 2.—All to-day I was engaged in quarrelling over the prices of different donkeys which were brought in. In the morning H. successfully stalked a flock of pigeons that had settled on the ploughed ground close by, and managed to bag five of them with two barrels. All game is very acceptable, as it always makes an addition and variation to what provisions are in hand. We calculated that we should have to buy twenty donkeys; we had very nearly succeeded in getting that number, but two more were wanted to complete the set, and these could not be got either for love or money. At last a priest appeared who was with great difficulty persuaded to lend us his two donkeys until we could manage to buy from the neighbouring villages two for ourselves.

This afternoon I thought I would show the young chief the use of the sword which I had bought in the market at Semmemar, and so, asking him to let me look at his own, I showed him the common one I had purchased, at which he seemed rather to sneer. We had got the best part of a goat in camp, and I hung up the hind quarters, with part of the back attached, on to a rope stretched between the two "dasses" which had been built for us. The sword was very sharp, and I managed to cut this piece of the carcass right in half. I then asked him if he would do the same, but he said he could not. I rather suspect he would not, as he was very proud of his sword, and probably thought that cutting a goat in half would not be a deed worthy of such a weapon. I then cut off another piece for his edification, and also to try to induce him to show off, which, however, he refused to do, and eventually retired to his followers and Barrakee, no doubt to talk over what the Feringee had done, and wonder why he had done it, and what was the use of the feat.

He came to me again in the evening—this was another instance of native imagination of the power of the white men to heal and cure—and informed me, in a mysterious tone, that his mother had been mad for some years, and he wanted some medicine to cure her. I with great difficulty explained to him, through the interpreter, that it was impossible for us to cure madness, and that in our country we had asylums, or houses for mad people, set apart. I said that anything I could do to alleviate suffering I should be most happy to attempt. He seemed a nice young fellow, for in the evening he brought us some thick cakes made of maize, which he said his mother had sent us. These were very good and excellent eating, as we had been living on "damper" and Peek and Frean's biscuits, which are very dry.