DONKEY ROBBERIES—REPRISALS—A FRIEND IN NEED—POSTMEN—APOLOGIES—A THIEF SURPRISED—IN SEARCH OF A MILLER—THE WAY TO GET WATER—A SWIM—ARRIVAL OF MY RIFLE—CUSTOM-HOUSE—ELEPHANT-HUNTING—HINTS ON COSTUME—FIRESIDE TALES—HOW TO PRODUCE FIRE—AN EPICURE—HARTEBEEST AND GIRAFFES—JUNGLE FIRES.

Feb. 3.—I find I began my rough journal to-day with these words: "At last we leave this beastly place, where all has been quarrelling and bargaining." I certainly was heartily sick of it, and glad to get away, and so I think were most of us. To make matters worse, before we started, the servants came and told us that four of our donkeys were missing, two that the priest had lent us and two that we had bought. At this we were furious. H. and I both agreed that we would not stand this sort of nonsense, and we went to K. and told him that we thought it was disgraceful conduct on the part of the chief, and vowed vengeance on the old sinner. K. tried to pacify us, and said the donkeys would turn up in time.

Certainly, to say the least of it, it was very annoying, especially on the point of departure. We called our servants together and went up to the ballaga's house where the donkeys had been put for the night. The young chief evidently thought we had hostile intentions, as his followers might be seen running in front of him taking the sheaths off the points of their long spears. When we got to the house we took up our position just outside the low wall which surrounded it.

The young chief was close to a house not many yards off. I sent word to say that, if the donkeys were not immediately forthcoming, we should burn down the man's house and take what goods and chattels he had there. I went in and took a large jar of honey and an enormous pumpkin as a sort of security till the donkeys came. At length the two donkeys we had bought turned up. We then demanded the other two which the priest had lent us. The Abyssinians said, "They are not paid for;" to which we replied that he would not sell them to us, but that he promised to lend them, and that, if they would not give them up, we should do what we had threatened.

Before going on I may say that we had letters to send to the post, and it was important they should start that day, so as to catch the steamer which runs every three weeks. As we were now at loggerheads with the chief, it would have been difficult to get him to give us a messenger for so long a journey; but Brou helped me out of this difficulty. He had a friend among some Mahomedans who lived not far off, and he told me that if I gave him the letters they would be given to the head-man of the Mahomedan village, and that he would insure their being sent to the coast. Brou made all the arrangements, and I did not, as usual, see the messenger myself and make him swear that he would carry the letters safely. It eventually transpired that they reached their destination all right; and in fact we found, all through our journey, that the Mahomedans were a great deal easier to deal with in business, bargaining, and arrangements, than the Abyssinians.

I went down into our camp to get the letters and send them off by Brou, and when I came back I found K. and H. were rather bored with sitting there and waiting. K. had been inclined to take the Abyssinians' part; he said it was one of the usual events of travelling in such a country, and we should not make a great fuss; this annoyed us still more. At last the donkeys were brought and all was made right. I returned the jar of honey that I had taken from the house, and I was going to return the pumpkin, but K. said, "I think we had better keep this," a remark that amused us very much, as he had previously been all for the Abyssinians, and now he was quite ready to take the native's pumpkin. These pumpkins make a very good dish, boiled in water with a little sugar. It is wonderful on occasions of this sort how "'cute" one gets at foraging for food. To-day was the only time, during our whole journey, that I saw a snake. I just caught a glimpse of the reptile as he wriggled away among some corn sheaves; he was yellow, and almost of the colour of the corn.

In consequence of the "row" about the donkeys, we could not start until next day. The old chief, Adik, came to say good-bye to us. He had never, all through the time of our stay at Adiaboo, been half so civil as the younger native, and the servants felt unanimously that it was owing to him that the donkeys had been taken; so I intimated that I would not say good-bye or take any notice of him unless he apologised for all the trouble he had given us. I had put it very strongly to his relative, the young man, and told him, in so many words, I did not think he had behaved as an Abyssinian chief ought to behave to Englishmen, when they came to pay a visit to his country. He said at first that he would not apologise, but at length, towards the evening, he came up and said he was very sorry for what had happened, and he hoped we should have a pleasant journey and lots of sport.

Feb. 4.—This morning we really did make a start, although we had great difficulty in getting away, as we had fresh servants to look after the donkeys, the new men did not know the nature of the packages, and every donkey-load had to be made out separately by Cassa. We did not go very far this march, but camped near a little village called Adikai. The people were very civil, and directly the young chief, who was with us, told them to put up a "das," they did so at once. The only little event which rather disturbed the harmony of the scene was one of the natives attempting to snatch away one of our mechanias. I happened to see this, and, running up to him, gave him a push that sent him clean head over heels, and I told him to let our things alone; the people who were looking on all said that it served him perfectly right.

There was a wedding going on at this village—in fact, I believe this was the time of year during which most of the weddings in Abyssinia take place—and the arkees, or groomsmen, who during the week the wedding is held go about the villages stealing what they can lay hands on in order to give to the bridegroom, came and danced before us. It was the same sort of dance that our coolies had entertained us with on the Mareb: one stepped forward and went through various contortions, and then, at one part of the dance, they all sat down and clapped their hands, making a hissing noise. The young chief said if we would give them a dollar they would be very pleased; so we presented them with one, and they went away delighted. We had bought a quantity of corn at Adiaboo for food for our servants in the jungle, but we could not manage to get it ground at Adiaboo; the young chief, however, said we should be able to do so in the villages as we went on. He came to us in the middle of the day and said, "I cannot make the ballagas grind your corn; you must go through the villages and make them give you an equal weight of flour in exchange for your corn." The reason why he could not make the ballagas of the nearest village grind the corn was that the village belonged to the Monastery of Debra Bizen, which my readers will remember was situated on a high mountain that overlooked the little valley of Gindar. The priest of the village said that the young chief had no power over these people, who paid tribute to the monastery. We went into the village and said that we must have some flour, and that we had brought corn to exchange for it. We sent our servants round to the different houses to fetch the flour, while a priest, a nice-looking old fellow in a green turban, looked on to see that we did not take more than was right. From one of the little hamlets, to which I went to look for some flour, all the inhabitants ran away, and clustered on a hill close by, looking at Brou and myself, who had walked up to the houses. We ascertained the folks had just been at their meals, and Brou, who declared that he had eaten no breakfast that morning, sat down and demolished the remaining victuals which he found in the hut. We took what flour we wanted and left corn in exchange. One of the servants who accompanied me to carry the corn, wanted as usual to steal something, but I said I would not allow that, and he must leave the things just as he found them.

As we came back with the flour that we had exchanged for corn we met the arkees, and Brou said to them, "Do not go up to those houses and steal the things while the people are away, and then say that we did it!" This was quite right, as these gentlemen were hanging about, and they would most likely have made a clean sweep of everything they had found, and then have said that the Feringee had taken them. Let me recommend to travellers, when camping near a native village, to watch for a long string of women, who generally bring up the water from the nearest stream. Usually your servants have plenty to do without going to fetch water: the best way is to take the water from the women, empty it into your own vessels, and let them go back and get more for themselves. This we did with great success at Adikai, and none of our men had to go and draw any water at all. Some trifling present soon put the women in the best of tempers, but I really do not think they minded the water being taken from them, only they were terribly afraid lest their jars should be broken. Most of them, when robbed, began laughing and chaffing our servants.

The next day we went on to the village of Azho, and camped in the dry bed of a stream, in a field where the Dargousa corn had just been cut. Our camp was below a high plateau on which this large village was built. It is the frontier village, and after this you meet no more habitations till you come to the province of Walkait, which would be from this point about eight days' travelling on a mule. I had gone on in front to fix the camp, and found some of our donkeys, which we had sent on early in the morning, waiting for us there; by-and-by the whole caravan came up, after which we enjoyed a very pleasant swim in a little pool in the river. This is a luxury which anybody travelling in a hot country will thoroughly appreciate, as it is impossible to take a bath with you while travelling in this sort of way; and we had to do most of our washing in a chillumchee.[11] The young chief and some of his followers came and begged some powder and bullets: we gave them some bullets but very little powder; as it is always dangerous to give natives powder when they are likely to be with you, because they might turn your enemies, and it would be adding insult to injury to be shot with your own ammunition.

The messenger who had brought our letters from home to Adiaboo informed us that he had passed some men on the road who, he believed, were bringing some guns and ammunition to us. Here at length was some news of my long-looked-for Express rifle, and also my heavy rifle. I had intrusted the carriage of the gun for us to the missionaries who live at Ailet, and Mr. Lager, the head missionary, said he would arrange that everything should be forwarded just as it was passed into his hands from the authorities at Massowah. Sure enough, about noon the next day, when we were lounging about camp and doing nothing—in fact, waiting for the guns—I heard a shot on the other side of the river, and very soon a short little Abyssinian appeared, dressed in European costume, followed by some natives carrying a box and also some other cases. I was very much amused at his firing the shot, as he strutted into camp with an air of great importance, and feeling, no doubt, that he had accomplished a great task. The shot was to give notice of his presence as he came along. I never was more pleased in my life; the guns had arrived just at the right moment, and all were uninjured and in as good order as when they had left the gun-maker's shop in St. James's Street. The little fellow who had brought them all this long way was an Abyssinian that the missionaries had reared and educated. He said he had had great difficulty in getting along, and one of the coolies, having fallen sick, had stayed at a village on the road. The first thing we did was to give them plenty to eat and drink, such as we had; we then squared accounts with them, and they were to go back home the next day. Most of this day was spent in unpacking the ammunition and guns; they seemed to be all right. To-morrow we were to start for the Tackazzee, and to leave all traces of civilisation, of any sort, behind us; while we were in the highest possible spirits and our prospects were of the brightest.

That evening I walked out and went up to the village of Azho to see what it was like: on my way there I "put up" some quail, but I did not fire at them. Azho is a large straggling village built on a high plateau, without any shade in or near it. Some of the natives showed me the way up a steep hill, where I had another view of the country we were going to, and I came back when it was quite dark, having seen a most beautiful sunset over the hills. H. thought I was lost, and was very nearly sending out to look for me. The country we had been travelling through from Adiaboo to Azho was very lovely, and the sides of the low undulating hills were highly cultivated. I have no doubt, in the valleys, the natives reaped a rich harvest. The village of Azho itself was a good specimen of Abyssinian dwellings; the people seemed well-to-do, and the houses carefully and neatly built. There was a custom-house here, where cotton from Walkait and other distant provinces paid tribute. Before I go on, I must say that the transport of my guns from the village of Ailet to where we were at Azho cost 46 dollars, and the coolies considered themselves well paid.

Feb. 6.—I started off, before H., with a guide to show me the way, but we chanced, somehow or other, to lose our road, and I was greatly annoyed. This march I did on foot, as my grey mule, which had a very sore back, had to be left behind at Adiaboo. K. procured me another, but it was a sorry brute, and always kicked when being mounted, so I got rid of it. After wandering about some little time in the jungle, trying to find our way, we at length hit upon the path, and saw some of our own donkeys, under the care of Hadji Mahomet, travelling along. We were to camp at a place called Maidarou, the usual camping-place on this road for all caravans. There were two very large trees close to the pools which supplied us with water, and we were very glad of their shade after the march of the day. For myself, I was rather tired, and was not in very good working condition, having through most of our marching been riding a mule. After having lunched we pitched our tents on the flat top of a little rocky hill which just overlooked the two large trees that formed the great feature in this camping-place. On my road here I shot at a gazelle, but, unluckily, the man who was carrying my Express rifle was some distance behind, and so I could only fire at it with my little 16-bore gun with a bullet. The next day we were to come to a place called Coom-Coom-Dema.

This is the head-quarters of those Abyssinians who come down to hunt elephants, for the young Abyssinians, that is to say the gentlemen of the country, think it part of their education to come here to shoot elephants. There are regular ivory hunters, who live at Azho and the villages near, and these go down to assist. The young Abyssinians who seek to distinguish themselves shoot at the elephant with small shot or slugs, just enough to draw blood, and then it is left to the Neftenias, or hunters, to finish him off with bullets. Their mode of hunting is rather curious. When they see the elephant, of course they stalk him with great care: two lines are made; the first line, on coming up to the elephant, fire and take to their heels as quickly as possible. If the elephant is wounded, he very often charges, and then meets the second line, who receive him with a greater number of shots; they then follow him up, if badly wounded, and despatch him at their leisure. The Abyssinians are, as a rule, bad sportsmen, and seem to me to be totally unacquainted with the commonest rules of wood-craft. I would recommend all sportsmen who hunt in a wild country to adapt their dress as much as possible to the colour of the landscape in which they find themselves. I always shot in brown cord breeches and flax gaiters, with a good cumberbund[12] round my waist, and a short-tailed coat, which was made of strong cotton stuff that I bought in India.

All the servants with us, as well as the followers of the young chief, were in a tremendous fright because of the Baria, the negro tribe of which I spoke before, and who came up to this part of the country to hunt the elephant, and also to kill whatever Abyssinians they could find. I myself never saw one of these redoubtable natives, nor do I believe they would attempt to attack a well-armed party; but in the evening, over the camp fire, many terrible stories were told of how So-and-so was murdered, and how cunning and treacherous the Baria were. Brou, the interpreter, was not behindhand in telling us all sorts of terrible things about them. One story he told us was this: There was a man who lived in a village close to the frontier, and who had to pay tribute to the chief of his province in ivory. He had gone down to the desert, or jungle, to hunt the elephant alone; a wily Baria following him most of the time. It should be stated that this tribe of natives have no fire-arms, and only hunt and destroy with spears and knives. The elephant-hunter was stalking an elephant, and had come up to him; at the moment he fired, the Baria, who had been sneaking after him, jumped up from behind, drove his knife into him, and killed him. This is a good example of their treachery; but the Abyssinians are just as much to blame in regard to the Baria or Shangallas, for whenever the Abyssinians catch them in much smaller numbers than themselves they generally kill them.

A WILY BARIA.
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