The verdant meadows of the Shoan district of Daggee are strangely
crossed and intersected by low chains of barren rock, with here and
there an isolated hillock crowned by the abode of the Christian farmer;
whilst between each little eminence rolls the lazy brook, winding
sluggishly over the flowery plain, as if reserving its energies for the
thundering leap into the great chasm of the Chacha.
Broken, craggy, and desolate, this mighty abyss sinks upwards of a
thousand feet abruptly from the plain. Its giant sides are in part
slightly fringed with moss or sweet-scented thyme; and a few small huts
dot the narrow ledges; but the wolf and the hyaena chiefly tenant the
dark fissures, whilst the vulture screams her death note over the
yawning gulf. Superstition has wrapped the beetling cliff and the
gloomy ravine in her dark embrace, for here the captive toils in the
bowels of the earth to procure the stubborn iron. The clang of the
dreaded smith disturbs the stillness of day; and the chant of the hymn
rises solemnly in the morning mist from the adjacent church of the
Saviour, which stands embosomed in a dark grove of junipers. Far down
in the bottom, the Chacha appears like the small murmuring mill-stream,
although the accumulated waters of a broad plateau are there rolling on
to swell the mighty Nile; and at frequent intervals the mountain
torrents pour their tribute over the frowning scarp, which for miles
forms the impregnable fortification of the land.
Near the commencement of this stupendous precipice, and barely a gunshot
from its brink, stands Angollala, the Galla capital of the kingdom,
commanding the upper pass into the Christian land. Three small hills
which rise abruptly from the plain, and enclose a circular area, had
been judiciously selected as a site by the wary founder, but the
settlement was at this date in all the disorder of infancy. Only a few
hundred hovels, composed of most flimsy materials, had been hastily
erected on the sloping sides of two of the hillocks; but the smallest
was distinguished by the more imposing edifice dedicated as a church to
the Ark of the Holy Covenant, and its table summit was crowned with an
ample residence for the Negoos.
A few trees raised their stunted heads above the thatch of the various
kitchens and storehouses, which were crowded thick over the crest, and
the flowering _umbar_ threw a broad zone of fragrant lilac blossoms
around the royal buildings. Stones and rocks, strewed plentifully in
every direction by the hand of nature, formed a considerable impediment
to the rapid advance of horsemen; and stout heavy wooden palings, which
descended in a double or treble row far down the slope, completely
screened the inmates against any sudden surprise from the border foe.
A wide meadow stretches from the palace tumulus to the very brink of the
abyss; and on the opposite height is situated the lovely village of
Cherkos, which, from its beauty, had been formerly designated by the
Galla "The Queen of the Hill." Sheltered by a magnificent grove of
evergreens, the hamlet overlooked the pleasant slope which extends to
the verge of the precipice, gaily diversified with rich fields of
cultivation and plots of green pasture land. It had been captured from
the heathen by the last king of Shoa; and although colonised by
favourite Christians of the court, the revenues were bestowed upon the
church of the Saviour, which had been erected immediately below the
village, in the dark depths of the Chacha ravine, and which was now
under the direction and guidance of Father Asrat.
The hazy sun had sunk beyond the dark waters of the muddy Nile; the
rivulets were trickling in discoloured streams from the surrounding
hillocks, to form a temporary lake in the enclosed amphitheatre, and
each reeking thatch sent up its tribute to the cloud of thick mist,
which was fast settling over the low hills of Angollala. The meadow
brooks were swollen to the brim, and the long plains, brilliant with
verdure, presented a pleasing prospect to the eye, although a most
treacherous surface to the incautious foot. The monsoon was indeed
raging in violence over the land; and according to custom, the monarch,
thinly attended by his household officers and establishment, alone
occupied the palace. All the governors and great men had taken leave
and departed to their respective provinces, the capital was well nigh
deserted, and as night closed in, the few remaining serf inhabitants
were seeking a dry corner in their frail huts, to shiver through the
weary hours of darkness.
As the moan of the wind is heard preceding the coming storm, so the hum
of a confused multitude first struck upon the practised ear of the
vigilant. The alarm was quickly spread by the fierce baying of the
dogs. The chant of the singer suddenly ceased within the palace, and
the king, followed by all his attendants, rushed to the southern
palisade. Then was distinctly heard the clattering of hoofs over the
opposite heights above the Chacha, as the pagan host surrounded the
devoted hamlet of Cherkos. The glare of light and the faint wreath of
smoke next succeeded, as the torch spread from hut to hut. The wind
blew cold and gusty, and the flames wheeling in fearful eddies through
the mist, revealed at intervals the cliff and the crag, and the peaceful
church reposing amid the dark grove of junipers, hitherto unpolluted by
the foot of the Gentile.
The wild shout of triumph, mingling with the shrill shriek of despair,
now rolled in fitful notes across the intervening plain. The whole
firmament was illumined by the flames of the burning village, and they
were witnessed in terror by the assembled inmates of the palace; for the
sacred precincts of the church itself had now been invaded, and a group
of priests in their last extremity could be distinctly seen, surrounded
by a mass of the savage foe. But the next eddy of mist from the boiling
cauldron that was interposed, shrouded the scene.
The priest Asrat shuddered at the thoughts of his narrow escape, for he
had only that morning quitted the sacred shelter. But the eyeball was
in vain strained to see what was passing. Darkness rendered its efforts
abortive. By degrees the flame expired, and one horrid shout of
exultation from ten thousand wild throats rose over hill and dale, in
earnest that the work of slaughter had been well finished for that
night, and that numbers were not wanting for the morrow.
Hurry and confusion reigned throughout the capital. The king was
advised to avail himself of the protection of darkness, and retire to
Ankober; but his evening dream had been pleasant, and he was buoyed up
by the words of the strong monk. "Shall I leave my children in the day
of their distress," he exclaimed, "and the seat of my fathers to be
polluted by the accursed touch of the rebel? No; death is preferable to
such disgrace." The royal gates opened to receive the terrified
inhabitants, who came flocking up the hill. Every matchlock was lowered
from the walls of the great hall, and distributed amongst the young and
able-bodied. Doors were barred and barricaded, and sufficient means of
defence for a time seemed to have miraculously sprung from the
untenanted location.
The pens of the scribes were now wielded with vigour; and as each tiny
letter, or token, or entreaty, was handed for approval, the wild
horseman mounted on the moment, and his long hair streamed in the night
breeze, as, floundering through the muddy outlet, he dashed at speed
over the eastern plain.
The pressing call for aid flew quick through the land. The love and the
fear of the king brought governor and vassal to the rescue; and as
hatred of the rebel's insolence stimulated even the dullest to action,
long before morning numerous bands from the immediate vicinity had
formed, on the meadow, a living barrier between the beleaguered monarch
and his stern foe.
Volume Two, Chapter XVII.