SELF-HELP—SCARCITY OF PROVISIONS—LAID-UP AGAIN—A RÉUNION—HOSPITALITY—AN OLD FRIEND—AN ALARM—ORDER OF BATTLE—A FIELD DAY—"KIND ENQUIRIES"—OLIVES AND OIL—PURCHASE OF A CLUB—CATTLE PLAGUE—AN INJUDICIOUS DINNER—MY ILLNESS INCREASES—I HAVE TO BE CARRIED—LUXURY OF A WASH—I BUILD A HOUSE—THE SEA—CIVILIZATION AGAIN.

March 17.—I occupied myself this morning in cleaning up my guns and pistols, which had not been looked at for the last three or four days. This was a long, tiring affair, but I recommend all who are similarly circumstanced to look to their fire-arms themselves, unless they have a trustworthy European servant with them, as natives always manage to do everything contrariwise, and spoil the very best weapons. I was now much better in health, but still I suffered from bad diarrhoea. I started for Gundet late in the afternoon; the consequence being that, as it was a long march, we lost our way. Petros and Guyndem, whom I had sent up to some villages to try to get eggs or chickens for my dinner that night, happened to lose us completely, as we were crossing the valley of the Mareb through a thick jungle. We crossed the dry bed of the river near which, only much lower down, we had previously encamped; darkness came on as we pushed through the jungle, and we were overtaken by a thunder-storm in the same way we had been before, and we were compelled to halt, as it had become pitch dark. We succeeded in lighting a fire, but I had literally nothing to eat, as Petros was carrying the few provisions of which I was possessed; the only thing in the shape of food that I had was a bag of corn for my mule. I made Goubasee roast some corn in the camp fire; this he picked out of the ashes, and it constituted my dinner. These hardships would have been bad enough to bear if I had been well, but in my weak state of health they were very trying. I was terribly ill all night, and very cold, as I had nothing to cover me but a cotton shama which I had bought for a dollar at the village of Zadawalka, and, in the morning, I was scarcely able to move. Another night like this would, I think, have finished me, and my tale would have been unwritten.

March 18.—When daylight dawned my servants went up to some houses, which, although close by, in the darkness we had not been able to see. Petros and Guyndem appeared the first thing this morning, having passed the night in the valley of the Mareb, in the jungle; Petros assured me he slept very little, as he was afraid the lions would eat him. The natives, who had heard I was ill, very kindly brought some milk and eggs. We were close to a village called Aila Mareb, and I determined, after about an hour or so, to push on to Gundet, so as to complete the march that I had intended to do the day before. I was so bad I could scarcely sit on my mule, but at length we arrived at Gundet. I lay here under a tree for most of the day, completely exhausted and worn out, and I managed to get a little sleep. During most of the day the tree which I was under was surrounded by great numbers of cattle, which seemed to think I was occupying their favourite resting-place: there was water close by. They were remarkably fine beasts for this part of the world, and I should think at least a thousand head passed by the place where I was lying. A little short Abyssinian came and squatted down close by me; he seemed inclined to converse, so I sent for Petros, and we held a long conversation on different subjects, which ended by my inducing him to go for some preparation which is called Shirou, and is made from a bean pounded up with red pepper. The Abyssinians eat this as a sort of relish with their bread or meat. I do not suppose it was the best thing I could have eaten, but still I had a fancy for it, as in illness one often has for some questionable dainty.

While I was lying under the tree a rather nicely-dressed Abyssinian came up, followed by a couple of loaded mules and two servants. Petros rushed up to him and embraced him. I asked who he was, and Petros replied, "It is my brother, whom I have not seen for many years." I believe, in reality, it was his step-brother. He was a merchant, who had come from the Shoa country, and was going down to Massowah with musk and gold.

Since writing the above there has taken place in this very spot, Gundet, a very severe battle between the Egyptians and Abyssinians, and I cannot help thinking that it was owing to the nature and conformation of the ground that the forces of Egypt, 2000 in number, were so completely overwhelmed and destroyed by their enemies. Before reaching Gundet, that is to say, on the road from Massowah, the country is all flat table-land, when suddenly the ground drops, and Gundet lies in a narrow valley, with high cliffs on each side of it. An army marching right down into this defile would easily be surrounded, and its retreat cut off. Probably the Abyssinians let the Egyptians descend the steep hill, and then encountered them, when the only thing remaining for the invaders to do was to fight it out to the last. But it seems incredible to me that a force of 2000 should march right into the jaws of an enemy without seemingly having the least intimation of their being near. The Abyssinians are stated to have mustered 30,000 strong, and I am sure my old friend Kirkham would have taken every advantage of the locality and the ground. The hatred of the Abyssinians to the Turk, as they call the Egyptians, was in this case very well exemplified, as nearly every one of the latter was killed, and among them Arrekel Bey, whose loss, as a kind friend, I very much deplore and lament, for nobody could have been more civil and courteous than he was when we were at Massowah.

I cannot help here quoting a letter of mine, dated May 7th, 1875, published in the 'Pall Mall Gazette' shortly after my arrival in England. At the end of the letter I state what I thought would happen if Egyptians and Abyssinians came in conflict in the country of the latter, and it turns out my prognostication has not been falsified by events:—

"Having only just returned to England from travelling in Abyssinia, I happened to see a letter copied from the 'Cologne Gazette,' and commented on in your paper of the 13th of April last. The correspondent of the 'Cologne Gazette' must be misinformed, I think, on some of the subjects he writes about. First, the writer designates King Johannes, the king of Abyssinia, 'as but a poor actor by the side of a real hero,' i.e., comparing him with Theodore, the late king. King Johannes has totally subjugated his country and the rebels that were in it. The people cultivate their land in peace, and tranquillity prevails. As for his subjects being in a state of chronic rebellion, it is not the case; let any one who doubts this travel through the country, and judge for himself. Secondly, the 'Cologne Gazette' says, with regard to Colonel Kirkham, 'that all his attempts to improve the country have failed.' Now, as every one knows, with nothing, nothing can be done. Colonel Kirkham was living with me for a month, and has often told me the first thing to be done in Abyssinia is to make and improve the roads. He has often tried to persuade King Johannes to do this, but the king will not spend a farthing and keeps his money hoarded up. Thirdly, with regard to the missionaries at Gindar, it is so far true that General Kirkham, to whom Gindar has been given by the king, allowed the missionaries to build a house there. I never heard anything of the Abyssinians threatening to kill the missionaries and burn their houses. I passed through Gindar myself on the 25th of March last; the missionaries' house was standing still, but the missionaries had left, one of their number having died of fever after the rains, so they moved to a healthier place. Fourthly, the article now ends by saying that 'a struggle of the undisciplined and badly-armed Abyssinians with Egyptian troops would be hopeless.' Now, the Egyptians would have to fight through mountain passes and hills—a warfare well suited to Abyssinian tactics, and not one that Egyptian troops would either appreciate or well understand. The Abyssinians are just as well armed as the Afghans were when we fought against them on the frontiers of India. The name of the Turk is hated in Abyssinia, and used as an epithet of opprobrium."

In the afternoon I started on the road to Adgousmou, and climbed the abruptly steep hill at the top of which, if my readers remember, Borum Braswouldeselassie took leave of us. The table-land on which I found myself is called Serai, and is celebrated for its fertility. I travelled on, and stopped by some water, a little way beyond the village of Adwahla. The servants were rather annoyed at stopping away from the village, as there was not any shelter near, and I had only just erected the tent when a fearful thunder-storm came down on us; luckily, my bed and things were inside, and so everything was all dry, but the wretched servants got wet through and through, and it was with great difficulty that Ali kindled a fire with cattle-dung for fuel, as no sticks or wood could be got anywhere near.

March 19.—This morning Goubasee was laid up with a bad leg, which I thought proceeded from rheumatism combined with hard work. I hoped he would not break down altogether, as he was an excellent servant, and he had been of the greatest use to me. I sent Guyndem, my other gun-bearer, up to the neighbouring village, and some villagers very kindly brought brown bread and milk, for myself and my followers. This was very hospitable of them, as, on most occasions, villagers took no notice of messages brought by one's Abyssinian servants, and it was very often with great difficulty we got provisions even by applying in person. To-day several caravans passed the camp on their way down to the coast. These caravans are just beginning to travel; but it is during the rains that most of them go through the country, so as to arrive at Massowah in June or July, at the time it is hottest on the coast, and when most of the business is transacted.

I started after breakfast for Koudoofellassie, and arrived at nightfall at the door of Borum Bras.'s house; I found himself and household all at dinner. This was a time of fasting with the Abyssinians, when they do not eat during the day, but only after sunset. I had sent on word by a native, who said he was going to Koudoofellassie, to tell Borum Bras. that I was coming, but evidently the man had not delivered the message, and I was not in the least expected. But it seemed that I was no unwelcome guest, for directly one of the servants saw me he went in and told Borum Bras. I had arrived. I was led in by the hand, and was truly glad to see this Abyssinian chief, as he had been very kind and hospitable to us on our way to the Tackazzee, and I hoped he might help me to get to the coast. After they had finished their dinner, he sent away his household, and had a fire lighted for me inside the hut. I was wet through, cold as well as ill, and was very glad of the warmth. I told Borum Bras. all that happened, how unlucky I had been, and that now I was on my way home on account of illness. He was exceedingly civil and kind, and asked what he could prepare for me for my dinner. Out of beans his wife made me a sort of cake, which was very good, and he also gave me some "tej." My donkeys, with the tent, etc., came up later, but I resolved to sleep in the hut in which I was. I accordingly turned in, but it was of no use trying to get any rest, as the hut in which I reposed was, as a rule, not only used as a dining-room but also as a stable, and the horses munching their food during the night kept me awake. Sundry small animals of the insect tribe seemed to like the taste of the blood of a white man; it might have been a change for them; it certainly was a change for me, and, in my already weak state, unbearable; so, about one o'clock in the morning, I made my servants get up and pitch my tent, and there I went to bed, and slept well the rest of the night.

March 20.—This morning Borum Bras. got me a messenger, and I sent down letters to the French Consul, as well as to the Governor of Massowah, telling the latter that I was ill, very likely to be a day or two late for the steamer, and begging of him to keep the boat waiting for me, if possible. Whilst I was taking my breakfast, and whilst Borum Bras. was talking to me and inquiring after my general health, there was suddenly a shout, the chief started up and rushed off to his house close by. All the people of the town ran to their houses and armed themselves, and the women stood on the tops of the houses screeching their peculiar cry to call out the men. The cause of the commotion was that a robber, who lived near this district, had attacked an outlying village, and had carried off some cows and killed a man. All the inhabitants turned out and formed themselves in battle array in two lines outside the town. The mode in which Abyssinians go to fight is rather a curious one: the men that are lucky enough to possess guns are placed in the front rank in one long line, and behind them are those that have only spears and shields—this line is generally three or four deep. I caused my mule to be saddled, took my gun, and rode out to see if there was any chance of a fight taking place. It was very amusing to see a little fellow strutting up and down opposite this armed rabble and haranguing them, calling upon them to fight well and to follow Borum Bras. their chief; telling them, in so many words, they were the bravest of the brave, and there were no heroes in the world like them. Then something like a word of command was given, and the whole of the men moved forward a little, shouting and yelling, then they squatted down again. I asked if there was any chance of seeing this robber, or of his coming here. An old Mahomedan, who seemed wiser than the rest, informed me that there was not the slightest likelihood of his coming to attack Koudoofellassie, as the people were much too numerous. I went back to camp and got my things packed up, as I intended to march to Terramnee that day.

When all was ready I started off, and found that the army of Koudoofellassie had moved some little way outside the town. Borum Bras. and his attendants, on horseback, might be seen in the distance going through a variety of extraordinary evolutions, galloping hither and thither, making a pretence of spearing people. When I came up to the crowd I found the women of the village were going about with large jars of water to quench the thirst of their husbands and relatives, and some of them had brought out food; they were evidently going to make a day of it. I took leave of Borum Bras. with much regret; he rode a little way on the road with me, and then we parted. I arrived at Terramnee shortly before sunset, sent for Tuckloo, a former acquaintance of mine and the chicker of the village, and asked for some eggs for my dinner. He brought me a few rotten eggs, which I had much pleasure in smashing on the stones before him to prove their condition; he then went back and obtained some fresh ones. I made myself an omelette; and my donkeys, with the bedding, etc., having come up, I had my tent pitched a little distance outside the village.

March 21.—This morning I received a visit from one of Borum Bras.'s servants, whom he had started off very early to inquire after me and see how I was getting on. This was very kind of him; and this man also ordered the chicker to give me what eggs, etc., I wanted, and then left the village. After he had gone, this same chicker seemed to think it quite unnecessary to take any notice of me, and I received no provisions; so, as a flock of goats was passing by my tent, I took the liberty of catching a kid, tender and young, and handed it over to Ali to cook, who soon cut its throat, and kid cutlets were very shortly frying in the pan for my breakfast. I had hardly eaten the last of them when the owner of the goats came up and made a great noise, saying he must be paid. I told him I had not the slightest intention of paying him anything, as he had been ordered to supply me with food, and a young kid was very little out of a large flock. Eventually the affair was settled, and it was agreed the villagers should bear the loss of the kid between them. The meat was a great change for me, as I had been living mostly on eggs and chickens for the last week. I started about mid-day for Deevaroua. It was very hot crossing the plain which lay between this village and Terramnee. I went past Deevaroua and halted for a short time below it, under the shade of a large tree that grew by the bank of the Mareb, which is here quite a little stream. I tried to get two natives to carry some of my things down to Massowah, but they refused to do so unless they were paid in advance. I assured them I had plenty money at Massowah, but they would not believe me, and I had not enough coin with me to pay them.

I do not think I was ever so much annoyed in my life as I was on this occasion with these two men. I felt inclined to give them both a thrashing; but it is very lucky I restrained my temper as, otherwise, it is very likely I should have had the whole village down upon me, and perhaps would not have got so well out of it as I did out of my last scrape. One certainly does feel very helpless without money, no matter where one finds oneself, and this fact, combined with my prostrate condition (of which, no doubt, these men knew as well as I did), rendered me incapable of much exertion. So I had to make up my mind to get my already rather weary servants to carry the things; and the proverb, "Money makes the mare to go," came bitterly home to me.

After resting myself, I rode towards the village of Chickut, which was, my readers will remember, the scene of my night march on our way to the Tackazzee. The country through which I passed presented a beautiful appearance—one continual grove of wild olive-trees, and great Qualquals dotted here and there. This part was not at all cultivated, yet I should think that these olives, if properly trained and cared-for, would make a valuable property; but the natives of Abyssinia have no idea of making oil from the berries. This place is only four days from the coast, and transport of the oil, when made, would not be very expensive. I was very ill all the day, and in the afternoon was so bad that I had to get off my mule and rest under a tree. When I arrived at Chickut I pitched my tent close to a little Coptic church. The village is built on a high hill, and the houses are not like those in the other part of Abyssinia through which I had been travelling; they were flat-roofed, and the walls were built with stones, whereas the ordinary form of huts was a round wall with an extinguisher-shaped roof. It was very cold here, and directly the tent was pitched and my bed made ready I turned into it, and caused my dinner to be brought to me as I lay between the blankets. I find this entry in my journal: "I am not worse, but still very ill. Thank God, I am getting near the end of this awful journey! The chicker here was very kind, and gave my servants abundance of bread for themselves and a chicken for me."

March 22: Chickut.—The people here are all busy putting a roof on the little Coptic church, close by which I had encamped, and the work is done amidst much chattering and talking. I heard from some merchants yesterday that Arrekel Bey, the Governor, had come back to Massowah; so I hope, if this is true, he will keep the steamer for me if I am late. I sent on some of my servants to Beatmohar, K.'s house, to-day, to let his boy Waldemariam know that I was coming, so as to make everything ready for me. Hadji Mahomet was behind with the rest of my donkeys, and I was afraid they would not arrive at Massowah in time to catch the steamer. I started in the afternoon and climbed the steep hill which lies between Chickut and the table-land of Asmarra. It was a lovely view as we ascended, and looked even more charming in the daytime than it had looked in the light of a tropical moon, the condition under which we last saw it. I passed by Sellaadarou, the place where we had encamped, and saw the remaining marks of the two large bonfires we had made. After leaving this place I met some natives on the road; one of them was carrying in his hand a club made of the wild olive wood: it was a beautifully-shaped weapon, and I induced him, after great persuasion, to sell it to me for a dollar. He would not hear of parting with it at first, but some of his companions told him he was a great fool not to sell it, as he could get many others, and a dollar was a good price for the stick.

Travelling on, I found myself on the large plain of Asmarra. Notwithstanding the precautions the people had taken the cattle disease had got among their beasts, and I saw several lying down, stretched out, dying by the side of the pools. The wind blew cold as I crossed the plain, and I wrapped the cotton shama that I had tightly round me. We were a small and wretched-looking party, as we wound our way slowly across this bare tableland; the hardships and long journeys had told pretty severely upon all of us. I thought the plain would never cease, and K.'s little house, with the extinguisher-shaped roof, rose up in the distance, but seemed to get farther from me. To my astonishment, among some stunted bushes I saw two gazelles grazing. I alighted and successfully stalked one, but missed him as he bounded away. I was too weak and ill for shooting, so I mounted my mule again and soon found myself under the welcome shelter of K.'s little house. Waldemariam had got everything ready for me, and some fresh baked bread, which was a great luxury. We had left a box of provisions behind here, which I immediately broke into, and to my great joy I found two bottles of claret and other provisions which we had brought up here. I made my dinner of fresh bread, fried sardines, and a bottle of claret—just about the very worst diet I could have taken under the circumstances; the consequence being that I was terribly ill all night.

March 23.—About four in the morning I heard a cry outside in the village, and then a wailing and lamentation, mixed up with donkeys braying and cocks crowing. It transpired that an old man, who had been ill for some time, had just died. This was an unpleasant thing to happen, and was not calculated to raise my spirits under the circumstances in which I was placed. Later in the morning a brother of Naib Abdul Kerim came to see me. The Naib was the man who brought us up here, and who arranged for the transport of our luggage on bullocks and mules. His brother asked me if he could be of any use, as he had heard I was ill; it was very kind of him, and he proved of great service. I told him that I should be very much obliged if he could get me men from the village to carry me down to the coast, for I was now becoming so extremely weak that I really thought another two days' riding would have polished me off. Accordingly he went into the village and obtained twelve or fourteen men. I borrowed a large angareb from one of the villagers, and caused them to fix two long poles to it, so that it could be carried on men's shoulders. I had no money with me, but luckily K. had left behind a sum of money, and I took the liberty of borrowing some dollars from him to pay the coolies, as these people always insist upon half the agreed sum being paid in advance. I sent forward letters to the French Consul and the Governor, again asking them, in case I should be late, to keep the steamer waiting for me.

On Saturday, about four o'clock in the morning, I was carried very comfortably down to Maihenzee, our old camping-place, where we had passed such a wet night on our way up here; I now passed a comfortable night and felt better. Naib Abdul Kerim's brother brought some coffee with him, of which he gave me a portion, which I think improved me.

The manner of making coffee is rather peculiar, and merits description. When on the march, and travelling in Abyssinia, the natives carry a bag of unroasted berries; taking a few of the grains out of the bag, they put them on a little mat, and then scrape some hot wood-ashes out of the fire; these they mix with the coffee-grains, and then shaking the mat up and down, much in the same way as one sees a groom shaking a sieve of oats to get the dust from them, the coffee becomes gradually roasted. I believe that they know when it is sufficiently done by the smell. Then the coffee is put between two stones and ground to powder; or, if they happen to have a small pestle and mortar, that is used. The ground coffee is then put into a little earthenware vase—one can hardly call it a jar as it has a long neck—water is poured into the vessel, which is put to boil on the fire. When sufficiently heated, some fibre is crammed in the mouth of it to prevent the coffee-grounds from coming out into the cup; then some of those little Turkish cups are produced, and the coffee poured out and drunk. Drinking coffee in these regions is quite a little ceremony, and is generally the time when the most important affairs are discussed, and compliments are exchanged. I may as well say that some of the best coffee I have ever tasted was made in the way described. Why is it so hard to get good coffee in England? One great secret, I am sure, is that every time it is made the berries ought to be fresh roasted and fresh ground.

March 24.—This morning I enjoyed the luxury of a really good wash in hot water, in my little tin basin, having found some soap in K.'s house. I had been without soap for several days, and I was disgusted to find that specimens of the entomology which infests Abyssinians and their houses had transferred their attentions to myself. I hope that none of my readers will ever have to experience, especially in a hot country, the total inability of washing oneself properly.

If there is one thing that is pleasant, and I may say almost a luxury, it is the power of having a really good wash. When one is leading a rough life, one misses the morning tub of civilized life. Even on reaching the Tackazzee, the waters of the river looked inviting for a swim; an indulgence in this pastime would be made in the face of the fact of there being a chance, and indeed a very good one, of being snapped up by a crocodile, which would have been an unpleasant and abrupt termination to a trip undertaken from motives of pleasure and sport. The only place where bathing was practicable was the shallow ford, and during most of the day our native servants might have been seen paddling and splashing about in the shallow water, much to their delight and amusement. I am sure it did them all a great deal of good, Abyssinians, as a rule, not being fond of water applied externally. The not very delicious odour experienced on going amongst them is a sufficient guarantee of this statement.

Whilst I was sitting outside my tent an Armenian merchant, who, my servants told me, went by the name of Bogos, passed by with several mule loads of ivory; he had come from the Shoa country, and he was one of the best-looking men whom I had ever seen; very fair, at least in comparison with Abyssinians, and dressed in the costume of the country. He informed me that the steamer was expected to-day, which was its proper day; and I hoped to arrive in time for it, as, if I could stand the journey, I should be at Massowah to-morrow. I had found an old copy of Milton in K.'s house, and so I passed the morning in reading 'Comus,' which I enjoyed very much.

I left Maihenzee about mid-day. It was very curious to observe the change in the vegetation at the top of the pass; the coast rains had ceased on the side nearest Massowah, and everything on that side was green and beautiful, whilst in the part I had just traversed the ground was completely dried up, and bushes and trees were bare. I stopped at Mehdet and procured something to eat, then I travelled on and got to Gindar about 8 P.M., feeling very tired and ill, although the men had carried me well. I sent for Aristides, the Greek, who was still here building a house. He was very glad to see me, and he told me in broken French that I looked very ill, and that he would accompany me next day into Massowah. K., to whom Gindar belongs, had presented me with some land—the whole side of a mountain, and a small hill in the valley; and I engaged Aristides to build me a small house, so if I should go to Abyssinia again I shall have a place to live in. In exchange for this land which K. gave me, I promised to send him out a box-full of the seeds of all our English vegetables.

March 25: Gindar.—This little valley is looking very beautiful, all the vegetation green and sprouting, and the grass up to one's knees; the whole air is alive with bees and insects in quest of honey from the flowers.

How changed was everything since the last time I was here! In my former visits I was full of hopeful expectation, looking forward to pleasant adventures and good sport; and now I was returning completely knocked down by illness, and counting the hours which would elapse before my arrival at the coast. The scene was even brighter and more glorious than when I had left it; but, alas! I scarcely possessed the power to appreciate it, and certainly I could not enjoy it. Aristides breakfasted with me this morning, and I killed a sheep and presented him with the meat. He promised me that, after I had left the country, he would look after things at Gindar. I proposed that he should take the eggs from the guinea-fowl, which abound here, and put them under hens, so as to bring them up tame; as, if they were fattened and kept in a civilised state, they would be excellent eating. I should also like to try the experiment of introducing rabbits, which I am sure would do very well, yet perhaps too well, so as to eat up every green thing.

I started in the afternoon for Massowah, having arranged that I should be carried to a place called Maital, on a different road from that which we had come by, but the usual one for merchants. I reached Maital about dark, halted for an hour, obtained something to eat, and slept for awhile; then I lay on my angareb, and I was carried off again all through the night. I thought the darkness would never come to an end, and, towards morning, quite exhausted, notwithstanding the jolting of the angareb, I fell asleep, and woke up just at dawn: we were close to the village of Moncullu. The cocks were crowing, and some of the people might be seen moving about. When we arrived here my coolies actually began running along with me, and singing and laughing. These men had been marching for more than fourteen hours, and during that time had eaten scarcely anything at all! As I approached Massowah I saw in the distance a steamer lying in the harbour; this was indeed a great joy to me, as now I should speedily get home. I was carried into Massowah more dead than alive. I went first to the Divan, and found that Arrekel Bey was away, but the acting governor knew I was coming, and put me into some rooms over the telegraph office. M. de Sarzec, the French Consul, came to see me, after I had eaten some breakfast; he was very civil and kind, but he said it was very lucky I had arrived at the time that I did as the steamer was a day late, and, in the absence of the Governor, the man who was acting for him would not have dared to keep the boat waiting. I dined in the evening with the French Company, a mercantile house of which M. de Lanfrey is the manager. They keep all kinds of stores, such as beads, cotton cloth, silk, sugar, etc., which are sold to the Abyssinian merchants, who take them up the country. The dinner was very pleasant, and it was agreeable to have the opportunity of talking to white men again, after having led the life of a savage for some little time.

Before finishing the account of my journey up the Red Sea, I must beg my readers to go back into Abyssinia with me, and try to follow the sort of sport my friend H. had been having, and did have, since we parted. He wrote me a letter, saying that directly he had received my note from Azho, dated the 12th of March, and found that I was so ill, he came straight up from the Mareb, and started off with Fisk and Brou for Adiaboo. He arrived there on the 15th, hoping to meet me; but they told him—which he was very sorry to hear—that I was two days in front of him, and also making long marches in order to reach Massowah in time for the steamer. He saw it was useless going on, and so returned that same evening to Adaajerra, which was better known to us by the name of Barrakee's village. On his way back he met with a most unpleasant adventure. It may be remembered by my readers that, on our former visit, Zardic, the old chief of Adiaboo, was excessively rude to us, and we believed it was owing to him that our donkeys were stolen, and also that so large a price was charged for the ones that we bought. H. was travelling quietly along with Fisk and three servants, when suddenly he heard a yelling and shouting, and three or four hundred Abyssinians, with Zardic at their head, rushed down upon them, pulled them off their mules, and began beating them with sticks and spears, and poking their guns into their ribs. This was far from pleasant, and, after it was all over, H. and his party were more dead than alive. I am afraid that I was unjustly the cause of this little contretemps, as Zardic swore that I had knocked down a man at Azho, and then shot at him, and, as they could not catch me, because I passed so quickly through Adiaboo, they thought they would assail H., as they considered he was just as bad. A few days after the assault by Zardic and his men, H. wrote to Rass Baria, the chief of TigrÉ, a letter of complaint, and, later on, wrote to the King himself about it. He subsequently heard there was a tremendous "row" about all this, and that Zardic was going to be chained, and the governorship of the province taken away from him. I think the punishment very just, and well merited by this chief.

During H.'s first excursion to the Mareb he shot 4 buffaloes, 1 leopard, 1 wadembie (which is a much larger kind of deer than either hagazin or hartebeest), also 1 very large turtle, and 2 crocodiles. This was certainly very good sport, and how I afterwards regretted I was not able to be with him to swell the bag! This was before he came up to try and join me at Adiaboo; when he left Adiaboo, he went to the Cassoua and Sherraro plains. There he shot 8 tora (hartebeest), 3 of them being very large and fine animals, 1 hagazin, and 2 pigs. Also, he says in his letter to me, that he killed "any number" of small game, partridges, &c. These plains, according to his account, swarm with all varieties of antelope, and, in fact, he seems to have seen a great deal more game than we did in any other part of Abyssinia. He stayed there twelve days, and then went back to Barrakee's village for a day and a half to get flour and provisions for himself and servants; after which he again went down to the Mareb, and stayed there till the 11th of April, and would have remained longer, but the rains had just begun, and he was afraid of fever. Of course his great object was to get a lion, and for six successive nights he sat up watching over an old bullock—a beast that we had brought down to the Tackazzee with us, and one of those which was so nearly drowned in crossing over that river. On the sixth night a lion pounced upon the buffalo, and H. shot it as dead as a door-nail. Naturally he was very pleased, as he very truly said that he would not have liked to leave Africa without having shot either a lion or an elephant. There was great rejoicing in camp next morning among his servants, as Abyssinians think a great deal of shooting a lion, although the king of beasts does not stand so high in scale with them as the elephant. He said Barrakee stayed with him the whole time, and turned out a first-rate guide that knew every inch of the country, and I am sure H. never regretted having kept him. He gave him Fisk's gun as a present on leaving, which delighted him very much. H. had on one occasion saved his life. Barrakee got knocked down by a wounded buffalo, and the beast was just going to trample him to pieces, when H. came up and shot it dead; the consequence being that Barrakee was only laid up for a couple of days with a stiff neck, instead of being gored to death. This man was, on the whole, the best specimen of an Abyssinian we had anything to do with while we were in the country. He had been taught a good deal by the missionaries, and he remembered the Powell who, some of my readers may remember, was murdered by the Shangalla tribe some time ago. Altogether Barrakee turned out a most useful and faithful servant to us. In addition to the lion H. shot 8 more buffaloes, 1 wadembie, 12 tora, and some gazelles. On the 11th of April he started for Adowa. Alas! when he got there he found that no attention had been paid to the orders we had given for shields and black leopard skins. He tried all over the town to get them, but could not procure one. Rass Baria, who lived at Adowa, had left, with most of the population of the town, to join the king, who was fighting a shifter, or robber, near Dembellas; so nothing could be done, and the man to whom we had sent the order said he could not make the shields without the money. When H. went to try and see him he found that, like all the rest, he had gone with Rass Baria to the king. H. stopped a day at Adowa, and then went straight on to Massowah.

His bag on the whole, that is to say, of large game, was as follows: 1 lion, 12 buffaloes, 20 hartebeest, 2 hagazin, 2 wadembie, 1 leopard, 1 large deer with straight horns, 36 gazelles, 1 very large crocodile, 2 pigs, and an enormous turtle; of course any amount of guinea fowl and partridges. He says, "As for hartebeest and buffalo, at Sherraro and on the Mareb, you can go out and shoot as many as ever you like; upon my word, they are more like cows than anything else. I saved all the best heads and skins, and shall send them home from Suez. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I went down to the Mareb. Day after day I watched for elephant and rhinoceros, but I never even got a shot at one, and as for rhinoceros I never even saw a track of one." This information as regards the rhinoceros is rather curious, and only shows that they must be much farther west, in fact, in the country which was explored by Sir Samuel Baker.