OUR DAILY ROUTINE—BAKING A JERKED KOODOO—LOSS OF AN ELEPHANT—A SEPARATION—MY ILLNESS INCREASES—STARVATION—A GOD-SEND—SAD PLIGHT—FRESH SUPPLIES—A HARD MARCH—NARROW ESCAPE—AN EXCITING HUNT—PRIMITIVE BUTCHERY—A CURIOUS SHOT—CARAVAN—EXCHANGE OF CIVILITIES—"CHURCH"—CHANGE OF AIR—ACCIDENT TO THE KITCHEN—STRANGE VISITORS—A THUNDERSTORM.

Feb. 21.—I have nothing of great importance to tell about this day. I lost my pencil, that I used to write my diary with, and I was obliged to use as a substitute the sad remains of the only quill pen left me, and which I managed to render serviceable by tying it on to a bit of stick. As I have so little to say, I will give you a sketch of our day in camp. It begins mostly at sunrise. The first thing that happens is that the donkeys and mules are untethered and led out to grass. Our water-barrel is taken down to the stream or pool which we are camped by, to be filled; it takes about three men to carry it up again full. When the water is brought up the kettles are put on to boil, and Mahomet, who is my servant, and Fisk, H.'s servant, get ready our things for dressing. We get up and generally perform our ablutions in the open air, with our little basin either propped upon the stump of a tree or else on a heap of stones close to the tent. We breakfast about eight, and then go out shooting—that is to say, I used to do so when I was well. Fisk serves out the servants' rations for the day about ten o'clock, and a very few minutes after this all hands are hard at work making their bread, which is accomplished by mixing flour and water and making the whole mass into a plaster-of-Paris-like paste.

Most of our servants have divided themselves into messes of three or four, and the way in which they bake their bread is both original and primitive. Well-to-do travellers in Abyssinia, generally carry an iron pan, exactly the shape of one of the copper scale pans that grocers weigh tea in, but the poorer natives have to content themselves with a flat stone, numbers of which are to be seen, propped up on other stones, at all the camping-places on the road, with the ashes of recent fires beneath them. While they are making their paste the stone is being heated over a fire, and directly it is hot enough they pour on to it the liquid dough and let it bake; when it is done on one side they turn it over like a pancake. When sufficiently cooked it is a hot doughy sort of flat cake; and those people who are lucky enough to have a little red pepper eat it with the bread. There is nothing of which an Abyssinian is so fond as red pepper, and the quantity he manages to pass down his throat is something surprising. We had a good deal of rice with us, and had found that by grinding the rice between two smooth flat stones, which we got from the bed of the Tackazzee, it made excellent flour; and we had hot rice cakes, baked in Brou's iron pan, every morning for breakfast. After breakfast, if I did not go out shooting, there was generally something to do in camp, either to mend or put the men to work at making ropes, out of the fibre of a certain tree, for lashing our things together, or else sending them to cut grass for our "das," or leaf-house, which we live in during the day, as these bowers are always much cooler when they are well thatched with grass. Sometimes we have tiffin, and sometimes not. It is usually hottest between one and three in the afternoon, and then it is always best to be in camp. In the evening we generally went out shooting till dark. The donkeys and mules, having been taken to water, are brought in about five o'clock and tethered; they are left to stand till dark, when the grass that has been cut is given them for the night. We dined between seven and eight, and after dinner the flour was served out to the servants for their evening meal. Any arrangements were now made for the day following. H. and I sat by the camp fire, generally played a tune upon my banjo, and then, after enjoying a smoke, we turned in to rest.

After dinner is one of the pleasantest times in this beautiful climate; the stars shine brightly, and from the place where we were now encamped the constellations, both of the Great Bear and the Southern Cross, could be seen. For the last week I had been so unwell that I had not written up my journal. Symptoms of dysentery had appeared, and I was afraid I should be laid up. During this week H. had been out shooting, and he and Barrakee had the luck between them to kill a large koodoo. Of course all hands in camp were delighted, and a great portion of the meat was "jerked," that is to say, hung up in the sun and dried. We found, at first, this jerked meat was very hard to eat, but by grinding it between two stones, mixing it with a little rice, fat, and onions, and then making it into a sort of rissole and frying it, it did not make at all a bad meal.

One day during this week H. went out after elephants, and saw a very large herd; he said there must have been about eighty of them, but when the herd winded the hunters, they trumpeted and separated about the country. Two of them were making down a little ravine, close to where H., Barrakee, and the gun-bearer, were standing. H. told me that Plowden Gubrihote, his gun-bearer, was in a dreadful "funk," and assured him that these elephants were the man-killing elephants, well known in this part of the world; that they would surely kill them if they did not immediately take to their heels and run away. H. told him to sit still, or else he would "lick" him. The elephants came nearer and nearer, and one of Barrakee's men put up his gun to fire. This would have been ridiculous, as they were nearly eighty yards off. H. knocked the gun out of his hand, and told him to sit quiet. The elephants were now fast approaching, when Barrakee and his man both fired. This was exceedingly annoying, as from all accounts the elephants would have passed by close to where the party were concealed, and H. would have had a capital shot.

We stopped in the jungle here rather more than a week. I thought perhaps another change of air would do me good, and we moved up to Kourasa, where we had been camped before. I did not know at the time that I was so ill, nor did H., or else I should not have made the proposal I did when we got here. I told H. that our time was short in the country, and it was of very little use his stopping with me; I thought he had better move on with Barrakee, who assured us that, in the country near his village on the frontier, we should find very good shooting, even much better than we had had before. H. left me a few servants behind, and four or five donkeys. We were getting short of flour, and we agreed that he should go on to Barrakee's village, send me back flour for the servants, and that I, on the day after he left, would move up to Coom-Coom-Dema and stop there till the flour arrived. Accordingly the next day he started away in the morning. Just as he left, luckily I said to him, "I think you had better leave me five dollars of our money, in case of accidents." This was literally all the coin I had with me when I started to go to the coast.

I started the next day for Coom-Coom-Dema, and very nearly lost my way; my gun-bearers did not seem to remember it, and it was only by chance that I recollected some trees and a low hill which guided me across the plain to where we had been encamped before. When I arrived I felt very bad indeed, and I was really exceedingly ill. The flour had run out, and I had to serve out some rice that evening to my servants; for myself I had some biscuits to eat. I hoped by the morning of the next day to receive flour from H., but it never came, and the servants had no food nearly all that day, except some scraps that they had managed to save. The next morning I had nothing to give them, but they seemed to bear it all without complaint. I went out to try and kill some of the little sand-grouse for myself, but I did not succeed. When I came into camp Petros informed me the donkey-boy had broken down; and when he had brought in the animals to tie them up for the night, that he had begun to cry and had said, "Where's master? for I want something to eat." I was at my wit's-end what to do, as it was two long days' march to the nearest village, which was Azho, and I had only just enough rice for one meal.

Things looked very bad; the evening closed in, and, just before it got dark, Petros shouted out, "Oh, here is the flour!" It was not our own flour, it was a leading party of a caravan which was going through to Walkait. This was indeed a God-send! I saw there was no time to be lost, so I called for my rifle, and the first donkey I saw that looked as if it was loaded with flour I seized, led to the camp, unloaded it, and poured out the flour on the tarpaulin sheet which generally formed the floor of our tent. The owner of the donkey, as well as some of the rest of the caravan, were, I believe, going to expostulate; but I told one of my servants to tell them if they moved I would shoot them, and that we were starving and we must have food. At that moment the chief of the caravan—or rather the man who is generally appointed to lead these people through the country, and arrange all payments to the customs—appeared. He made everything all right, and we kept the flour; and, as he rode away to the place where they were going to stop that night, he sent me back, by one of my servants, some bread of his own.

Feb. 26.—I find in my journal this day that I was very ill, and went out in the morning and shot two brace of little sand-grouse, as I had not had fresh meat for some little time. I did not take any more medicine, as I found it made me so weak. I caused the servants to make me a large "das," long and narrow; in one end I used to sit most of the day, and in the other my guns and what few provisions I had were hung up. They watered the ground all round, and also the grass walls of the "das," so that it made me pretty cool during the heat of the day, whilst the darkness kept the flies out: certainly it was rather miserable work feeling and being ill all alone in the jungle; indeed long before this I ought to have started for home, as, when once dysentery gets hold of you, nothing but complete change of air, good food, and medicine, is likely to effect a cure. I still hung on to the thought that I should get better, but, if I had known what was really the matter, I should never have hesitated.

Feb. 27.—Our own flour did not appear till the afternoon of to-day, and I never felt more pleased than when I got it. They gave me a note from H., which was written in pencil on an envelope, and ran as follows:—

"Barrakee's Village, Friday, 26th, 1 P.M.

"Thank Heaven we have just this moment arrived! You never saw such a journey: it was sixty, if not seventy, miles. We waited for two hours in the heat of the day to rest the donkeys, and then went on as hard as we could, and arrived at the river that Barrakee had spoken about at 6 P.M. The rest of the donkeys came up about an hour after. We stayed till the moon got up about 11 or 12 P.M. We had to leave the donkeys behind; they will, I hope, be here some time to-night. I have been marching ever since, and have just this moment arrived. The mules are regularly done up: mine and Fisk's cannot move. I shall keep the things here till you come up. You will find it two good days' march from Coom-Coom-Dema to this place. The river B. spoke about is a beastly place; the water is bad, but you will be able to catch fish. We caught some. Three of Barrakee's villagers are to take the flour. I brought one of ours on, intending to send him back, but it is impossible, for he is dead beat and has been walking for twenty-four hours straight off; he could never walk back sixty miles, for I quite think it is that from Coom-Coom-Dema. You will see when you come. They will show you the way here. How is your complaint, old man? I do trust it is all right now. I cannot move from here, for I know when the baggage comes up the donkeys will be completely done. They are bound to come on account of the food.

"Friday, Feb. 26, 1.30 P.M.

"They have just finished grinding and collecting the flour. Our coolie is going after all. He is anxious to make a dollar. If they are not with you before sunset to-morrow (Saturday), they forfeit a dollar. The money is with their Shum.[13] There is enough for one hundred and sixty bread" (rations), "also ten eggs. One of the bags that the flour is in does not belong to us. We shall soon be all straight. Barrakee is getting the rest of the flour."

Never was letter more acceptable, and especially as with it had come the long-desired and looked-for flour. Although H. had not long been away from me, in the short time I had experienced a feeling of loneliness as well as utter helplessness; but it was no good giving way to thoughts like these, as if my servants once saw any inclination on my part to despond, I should never have been able to get anything done, and they would have found out too soon that even the much-dreaded white man is at times dependent upon help, even if it be from a nigger. On the whole, I cannot complain of my servants, as they had much to put up with. When one is ill, little annoyances are hard to bear, and I dare say at times I was thought rather tyrannical; but it is very little use regretting these things now, as there is not the remotest chance of any of my natives reading what I have here written.

Feb. 28.—This was an uneventful day, and I felt exceedingly weak and ill. It had become very much cooler than it was in the two camps nearer the Tackazzee, as the north wind blows towards the evening and the mornings are quite cool.

March 1.—I find written in my journal: "Am, I think, getting really better. I have shot one and a half brace of little sand-grouse as they flew near the tent in the morning. I went after the herd of hartebeest that I had seen very often near the tent, on the plain at the head of which I was encamped, but I could not get near them. I succeeded to-day in very nearly poisoning myself by mistaking one medicine for another, for I took opium in mistake for some other stuff. After I had discovered my error I swallowed some brandy, went out for a walk, and told my servants if they found me going to sleep to wake me up."

March 2.—The opium seems to have done me good, as I find written in the journal that "I am decidedly better, the symptoms of dysentery having partly gone away." To-day I had great fun shooting a fine bull hartebeest. This animal is about the size of an Alderney cow. I was going out of my tent very early in the morning when I saw the herd grazing not far off on the plain. I tried to stalk a bull which was feeding behind the herd and on the nearest side to me, but I failed. I then tried to stalk another, which was more on the left of the herd, and which looked a very big gentleman, and, I think, an old friend of mine, as I had fired at him before. As I was creeping along, the herd had closed up and passed not far off on my right. The bull that I had first tried to stalk was following. I missed him with both barrels of my Express, and then I ran to the top of an ant-hill and took aim at him with my heavy 12-bore rifle. It was a very long shot; the left barrel broke his hind-leg just at the hock; and now the hunt began.

I had come out of my tent with only my slippers on, and in walking through the burnt grass of the plain the short hard stubs were rather trying to my feet with nothing but stockings on. The bull hartebeest managed to go very nearly two miles; he stopped on several occasions and let me come close up to him. I fired at him with my Express, and, as I thought, missed him; he then limped away again, but went a good deal faster than one would suppose was possible. It was getting very hot, but I was determined the brute should not beat me. I lost sight of him for a little time among some trees; when I got through them I found he was trying to ascend a small hill. I had two more cartridges of my heavy rifle, and these I fired at him, and as he was waddling up the hill the shot broke the fetlock-joint of his other hind-leg. This stopped him, and Goubasee and myself found him sitting up like a dog, close to a white-ant hill. I had no knife with me and no cartridges, and I did not know on earth what to do; so Goubasee got big stones and handed them up the ant-hill to me, as I stood on the top and tried to smash his head in by throwing them at him. He charged at me in a clumsy way twice, when I was not on the ant-hill, and very nearly caught me with his horns as I half tripped-up in stepping back. I thought I would look in the cartridge-bag to see if I had completely run out of ammunition: to my great joy I found one Express cartridge; so I put the beast out of his misery with a shot behind the ear.

Guyndem, my other gunbearer, soon came up with knives. The carcase was soon skinned and cut up, and I sent back for two donkeys to carry the flesh into camp; it made two heavy loads for the donkeys, and the head and skin taxed the strength of the donkey-driver as he carried it home. I found that the animal had been hit by three bullets; one of these was a very curious shot: when I had fired at him with the Express, and thought it was a miss, the bullet had entered and exactly divided the hartebeest's tail as he was galloping straight away from me. This shot must have entered his entrails and stopped him considerably; the two other bullets were the shots that broke the hock of one of his hind-legs and the fetlock-joint of the other. There was great rejoicing amongst the servants and donkey-drivers, who had abundance to eat; and three long strings of jerked meat might be seen festooning the trees near camp. They dried the meat on the leather thongs with which the baggage was tied on the donkeys; these thongs were stretched from tree to tree.

I returned to camp completely done up; and I do not think the chase after the deer, under the hot sun, did me very much good; but still a little sport, when you have been ill for some time, cheers you very much. I had been trying to make little snares to catch small birds with, and especially the doves, that came down in great quantities to drink at the water-pools. It was rather amusing to watch them on these occasions, but they were far too wary to be caught by such clumsy contrivances.

March 3.—Went out this morning to look for some gazelles, of which there are generally two or three in a little patch of very high grass that escaped the fire at the time the rest of the dry grass was burnt. I saw a buck gazelle and fired both barrels of the Express, and missed. I then went and stood on an ant-hill in the middle of the patch of high grass; two does got up close under my feet and rushed away. I fired both barrels, and missed. The gazelle is by no means an easy thing to hit with a rifle when it is going fast, as it is very small. I was rather disgusted with this bad shooting, and was walking back to camp when up rose another buck. I fired one barrel, and missed; this shot seemed to turn him, and he went away parallel to the direction I was going in, offering a shoulder shot. I rolled him over with my left barrel as he was cantering along; he gave two or three convulsive bounds, and, when I got up to him, he was quite dead; there is nothing like an Express bullet for deadliness. Goubasee made a bag of the skin, and I kept the head.

When I got back to camp I found that H. had sent me some more provisions, and I also got a letter from him, written on an envelope:—

"Barrakee's Village, Sunday, February 28th.

"The coolies have just come back. I am very glad you got the flour from the caravan—that was first-rate; but I am sorry you are not coming on yet. As for this village, it is a horrid place, and there is nothing to shoot within miles of it. It is up on a hill, but is on the way to the Mareb; and so to-morrow I am going to start with Fisk, Barrakee, Brou, and three or four coolies. I shall leave some behind for you, and they will bring you on; Barrakee is going to leave a man to show you the way. I hope I shall have better luck than on the Tackazzee. As for flour, I cannot send you as much as I would, but still send a good lot. We have hardly any empty bags. We sent you three the other day; but when you get here have them filled up, and come down. I send a bundle of letters down, addressed to the consul at Suez—will you see that one coolie, if not two, takes them down to Massowah, to catch the steamer on the 24th of March, as it only takes nine days at the outside to get from Coom-Coom-Dema to Massowah. Do send them for me to Arrekel Bey, and ask him to post them. I send them to you, as I know you will have some letters to send too. I have no ink or paper left. This is the last—and I am writing to you now with gunpowder and milk, which does capitally. I am fearfully sorry about you, and should come back if I thought I could do any good; but I know I really could not. But I trust, old fellow, you will be all right by the time you receive this. I shall not send the flour off from here till daylight on Tuesday morning, or if I can I will arrange for it to leave on Monday (to-morrow) evening. They are working hard now, grinding a dollar's worth for us to take; and I am sending you some honey, one bottle of brandy, potatoes, onions, and some eggs. One donkey takes the flour and two of our coolies.

"Monday morning, March 1st.

"Your flour will leave this afternoon. Cassa here, in charge of the baggage left behind. Shall be back to-day fortnight; but they will show you the way down when they come.

"Ever yours,
"H."

I must explain to my readers that the Mareb which H. talks of in this letter is the same river that we were on before, he being many miles lower down its course, in fact, much nearer the plains than where we had been.

A large caravan with cotton from Walkait came by to-day. The chief of the caravan came up to me as I was seated outside my "das" loading some cartridges, and paid his respects, commencing by making two very low bows—nearly touching the ground with his head. I gave him some powder which he begged for, and asked him if he would give me a machet, which is a TigrÉ word for a little sickle, which the natives use to cut grass for their beasts; and my servants were always complaining that they had not one, and so they could not manage to cut grass well for the donkeys. He was exceedingly civil and good-natured, and took one of my coolies on with him some little way on the road, to the place where they were going to camp, and sent him back with the machet. The chief told me they had seen elephants as they had come up from the Tackazzee, and also three or four of the Baria tribe. His people, very bravely—as they were ten to one—offered to fight the Baria; but these niggers were wise in their generation, and took to their heels on seeing so large a party. The tail of the caravan did not come up till nearly dark, and so camped for the night about 150 yards from my tent. Just after sunset, when I was going to eat my dinner, they began a low-toned chant in which they all joined; it was rather pretty and mournful. I asked Hadji Mahomet, who was a Mahomedan, what it meant; he said it was "church;" at least that was the interpretation that Petros, my bearer, put upon his answer. All these men who were singing were Abyssinian Copts. I was much better in health this day.

March 4.—Instead of staying quietly at Coom-Coom-Dema I thought that a change of air to the other side of the plain would do me good. I had seen a spring of water on my way here, and so in the morning I sent out one of my servants to look for it. He came back and said he had found it; and so, in the evening, just before sunset, I started for my new camp. The servants were very annoying and they would do nothing they were told. I fired much of the dry grass of the plain, in hopes of burning the rest of it bare in order that I might see more game, and I had a long shot at a "tora," or hartebeest, on my way across. When we got rather near the water where I was to camp we happened to lose our way, and we were wandering about for some time. Ali the cook possessed a mule, on which the tin-pots and kettle were strapped; the animal got frightened at the rattling of the things on its back, and galloped away kicking and plunging, sending the utensils flying in different directions, including my two plates and a large boiling-pot that I used to make soup in, and also Ali's bedding; this, I am sure, he regretted a good deal more than any of my things. He had bought this wretched mule for 12 dollars at Adiaboo. This trip across made me very ill, as all my arrangements went wrong, and I did not get comfortably to bed until rather late.

Before I left Coom-Coom-Dema three wild-looking men came into camp: they said they had come down into the jungle to look for wild honey. They had a small gourd filled with this stuff, for which they wanted a dollar, and they were evidently very poor. They gave me as a present two large pear-shaped fruit with a green velvety shell; the inside was filled with seeds, covered with a sort of white spongy pulp, which was deliciously acid. The servants called this fruit Habbaboo. I find Mansfield Parkyns says that this fruit is called Dema, the scientific name being Adansonia digitata. I gave these honey-hunters two hanks of beads, with which they seemed very well pleased.

March 5.—I was not nearly so well this morning, having drunk some brandy and water the night before. The rice-water which I had been drinking during my illness had been made at Coom-Coom-Dema before I started, but it was in one of the tin-pots that galloped off on the back of Ali's mule. The servants again put me up a capital "das," and it was very dark and cool. The cook's mule was found to-day, but minus the stock-pot and some plates. I informed him I would shoot the brute if he did not go out and find the plates, etc., and wonderful to relate, they appeared in the evening all right, but rather battered. The mule had gone back to Coom-Coom-Dema, and was found close to where we had before camped, cropping the grass by the side of the water. I went out in the evening and shot one of the little sand-grouse for dinner as it came down to drink. I felt very poorly, and almost too weak to walk about.

March 6.—Worse to-day. This horrid complaint sticks to me, symptoms of dysentery having returned. I am afraid I must make up my mind to start for home—a bad ending to a sporting expedition. I shall have been ill now three weeks to-morrow. I took some chlorodyne last night, and I think it only made me worse.

March 7.—I am much better this morning, having taken three doses of opium, which acted instantaneously, thank goodness! There was a thunder-storm last night with two very heavy showers, and the most beautiful sunset I ever saw; great masses of clouds coming up from the south-east, and vivid lightning, and the thunder rolling and echoing through the mountains; it was a very grand sight. I was kept awake part of last night by the howling of a hyena, about ten yards from the tent. I thought at first it was a lion, but the servants assured me it was a gib, which is their word for hyena. He stopped about a quarter of an hour, making a hideous noise, and at last retired. There was a new moon to-day, so I was in hopes there might be a change in the weather, which would have done me much good: it was a great deal cooler this morning, after the thunder-storm. I made Goubasee administer a slight castigation to Ali, the cook, who had neglected to boil my rice-water the night before, and, as it was the only thing I had to drink, this was very disagreeable, as it was brought to me for my breakfast almost boiling hot and excessively nasty. It is needless to say this mistake never occurred again. This was not his first offence, and Ali, who was a Cairo man, was rather inclined at times to be sulky, and not to do anything; but on the whole he was not a bad servant.