The day dawned, and there remained nothing of the late beautiful village
of Cherkos. Death and desolation had spread to the very gates of the
capital, and the rocky ridge was covered with a dark mass of the Galla
host. But the plains were too miry to support the weight of man and
horse; and after an ineffectual attempt from one or two small parties,
the cloud of war settled again upon the scene of slaughter.
Frightful indeed was the sight which met the gaze of the Amhara, as they
took their position in front of the plundered village on the frowning
scarp of the ravine. The opposite crags were studded with the mangled
bodies of their murdered compatriots. Men, women, and children, had
been ruthlessly sacrificed, and the thousand favoured inhabitants of a
pleasant abode now lay stark and weltering among the rocks, where the
strength of the fierce pagan had hurled them. The heaving of an arm
here and there evinced that the spark of life still remained in some;
but the chasm was impassable to the foot of man, and the wolf and hyaena
lay undisturbed, gorged and glutted after their reeking festival.
The sun shone brightly for the few days following the appearance of the
heathen host, and the surface of the muddy meadow had recovered its
wonted consistency. Both parties were anxious for the combat which was
to decide the question of supremacy, for both were equally hard-pressed
for the means of subsistence. With their usual reckless indifference to
the future, the Galla had wasted the country, and rioted in its
destruction. The supplies brought to the royal camp were nearly
exhausted; and the king, galled by the presence of the rebellious array
within sight of his capital, having now succeeded in assembling a much
superior force, resolved upon giving battle on the morrow.
Prayers and psalms had been recited the livelong night--vows were made
at every shrine in the kingdom--and the ark of the cathedral of Saint
Michael had been transported from Ankober under a canopy of red cloth,
to shed its holy influence over the Christian army. At an early hour
the king, under the shade of the velvet umbrellas, surrounded by his
chiefs, nobles, and high-priests, and preceded by kettle-drums and wind
instruments, issued from the palace gateway, and with his band of
matchlock-men, took up a position about a mile from the town.
During the night, detachments had been steadily moving from every
direction to this fixed point. Column after column streamed through the
valley, or poured down the sloping hill; and as the day broke, the
warriors of Amhara formed a deep line of horse and foot on either side
of the monarch, one narrow plain and the river Chacha alone separating
them from the enemy. Nor were the Galla in any way slow to take their
station, bristling in a dark front along the opposite ridge, where the
tall figure of the rebel was distinctly to be observed, marshalling his
wild forces for the coming fray.
The battle commenced by repeated discharges from the king's gunmen; but
the distance was too great for execution, and a shout of derision
answered each impotent volley. The gigantic Tunkaiye first pressed
forward to the close encounter, and the cavaliers of Shoa were not slow
in following his example, for many fought under the eyes of their wives
and children--all for the honour of the king, and the glory of true
religion.
Down came the pagan host like the rushing blast, and the stones flew far
under the clatter of their hoofs. But they were fiercely met by the
long-bladed spears of the Amhara, and every inch of ground was for once
stoutly contested. The roar of the foaming cataract, which thundered
within fifty yards of the battle-field, was lost in the hoarse yells
which rung through the air. The rocky bed proved for a time the scene
of slaughter, and the turbid waters receiving numbers of dying and
wounded wretches, hurried them to eternity. At length, each individual
singling out his foe, the contest assumed the confused appearance of a
chance medley. The sharp lance met with little opposition from the
cotton robe; and deprived of other weapons. Christian and Galla,
grappling stoutly together, fought with sword and knife, and in the fury
of the moment, and in the excitement of the struggle, many rolled over
the frowning scarp, clinging tightly together in the last embrace of
death.
Medoko and his gallant sons were everywhere in the thickest of the
fight. His shout, rising high over the storm, animated the
faint-hearted, and his presence roused to new life and exertion the
successful partisan. Many of the Amhara bands were already reeling from
the repeated shock of the wild riders of the Hawash, when suddenly, in
the very heat of the action, a large body of warriors, clothed in black
mantles, and armed with long heavy spears, rushed down the hill on foot,
and, prostrating themselves as they passed the royal umbrellas,
descended fresh into the arena. The fierce inhabitants of Mans had sped
to the rescue from their hereditary estates, and their savage ferocity
and reckless bravery was well known throughout the land. The relations
and the household retainers of the rebel attempted to breast the storm,
but they were scattered like autumnal leaves before the angry blast; and
the chief arrived to the succour only to behold the spot strewed with
the bodies of his stoutest partisans, and to witness his beloved son,
the youthful Hailoo, sink before his eyes, transfixed by a dozen
spear-blades. A panic seized the pagans; and, dismayed and
broken-hearted, they fled tumultuously in every direction.
In vain Medoko performed the most incredible acts of valour--his voice
had now lost its charm; and, crippled by a wound in his shoulder--his
proud heart swelling with indignation--he at length perceived that the
fortune of the day was not to be retrieved. Cutting his way
single-handed through the squadrons of the enemy, he also gave the loose
rein to his horse, and scoured over the hills.
The sun had reached the meridian when the hot pursuit commenced, and the
arm of vengeance was not stayed until long after his sinking below the
western horizon. Every Amhara spear was dripping in blood to the haft.
The stain of gore was on every cheek, and as the weary warrior returned
from the massacre, the chest of his jaded war-steed was ornamented with
the cloth of the accursed Gentile, whose body he had left to the fangs
of the wild beast.
After galloping for some miles with the few chiefs who had escaped from
the fatal field, a short halt was allowed to refresh the horses, and
Medoko proclaimed his intention of accompanying the party no further.
Asylum and assistance were offered in vain; the stout heart of the rebel
had been quelled by the late heavy loss he had sustained, and for a time
at least he bowed to the power of the monarch of Shoa. Short was the
moment allowed for the explanation, and after a hurried parting and a
hope for better days, the band mounted and pressed on.
Medoko and his surviving son Chara, now commenced the more difficult
undertaking of threading their path back again among the advancing
Amhara; but a perfect knowledge of the localities enabled them to take
advantage of every hill and hollow. After many weary hours of anxiety
they passed the capital undiscovered, and urging their horses to speed,
took the road to Ankober. The Bereza was swollen and unfordable, but
their gallant steeds successfully breasted the rushing waters. The
king's watchmen had left their cold posts, in order to take shelter from
the cutting blast, before the riders swept down the rocky defile of the
Chaka, towards the wooded sides of Mamrat; and long ere the voice of the
brotherhood had risen in the matin chant, the rebels had been formally
admitted to sanctuary, and were safely reposing in the sacred monastery
of Affaf Woira.
Volume Two, Chapter XVIII.