On the way between our camp and the Gumara River we passed
many villages. In one I saw a leper in an advanced stage of the
disease. Thereupon I made inquiry, and was told that leprosy is
very prevalent throughout Abyssinia. Almost all the maladies that
work havoc among the people could be gradually checked by adequate
medical control under European administration.
On Saturday, January 17, I said good-bye to my two companions,
who started for Debra Tabor at nine in the morning. It was the
proper course to see Ras Gouksha, and thank him personally for
allowing us to travel through his territory, and we desired to
obtain from him a letter of introduction and recommendation to
Tecla Haimanot, the King of Godjam, whose dominions lie on the other
side of the lake. This potentate is named after the most popular,
venerated—and apocryphal—saint in the well-filled Abyssinian
calendar. I shall refer to his miraculous exploits and experiences
in another chapter. They are unequalled by anything to be found in
the Golden Legend, and one can only regret that the late “Thomas
Ingoldsby” had never heard of him.
The emperor, when he is powerful enough to do so, exercises a
suzerainty over the King of Godjam, who served with the Abyssinian
forces at the battle of Adowa. But the difficulties of a suzerainty
unwillingly accepted, are as manifest in Eastern as they were
in Southern Africa, and the country has often been in revolt. For
instance, Consul Plowden wrote that in his day the ruler of Abyssinia,
who was then the Ras of Begemeder, though a titular emperor was
alive,[69] “had been engaged in the siege of a hill-fort in Godjam
now for four years; and another chief in rebellion, after gaining
two battles, had pillaged Gondar, and rendered all communication
with Godjam circuitous or dangerous.”[70] Menelek’s safe-conduct
letter is not valid in Tecla Haimanot’s dominions, and Dr. Stecker,
who was provided with this passport, was refused admission to the
country. The German explorer wished to cross the Blue Nile in the
neighbourhood of Woreb, but was unable to carry out his plan because
the escort officer who had been attached to his party declined to
proceed into Tecla Haimanot’s jurisdiction. The doctor pointed out,
with the logic of his race, that his permit was issued by the Negus
Negesti, and that a mandate from the king of kings was binding on
the ruler of Godjam. The escort officer disregarded logic after the
manner of his kind, and Dr. Stecker failed to cross the river. He
again tried to enter this territory from the north at Wendige, and
was again turned back. A third attempt, which promised well, was
frustrated by the double dealing of Litsch-Abai, Governor of Wendige,
and though the traveller finally received a special permit from King
John himself as Tecla Haimanot’s suzerain, he was unable to make
use of it, except for a few hasty excursions by water from Korata,
for he was summoned back to the Abyssinian court before he could
accomplish the journey in Godjam which he had planned.[71]
[Illustration: A CASE OE LEPROSY.
_See p._ 103.]
I took a photograph of my two companions while they were crossing
the river Gumara, and then at once returned to the camp and made
arrangements to remove it to a less inconvenient site.
I started on my mule with a native guide and an escort of two boys,
and in an hour and a half reached a perfect camping-ground about
halfway between our last halting-place and Korata. It was a quiet
spot on a little plateau, where a spring rose from the rock and ran
down a clean, hard channel. This was a welcome change from the muddy
water which we had been obliged to use during the last two days. I
returned to camp, and after lunch found—for the first time in
my life—my reputation embarrassing. Patients poured in, and it
occurred to me that if they had had any money and I had wished to
establish myself in practice in Abyssinia, I should have done very
well by the lakeside. The diseases which I had to treat were leprosy,
ophthalmia, tænia, malarial fever, itch, and certain maladies of
another order.[72]
Among my visitors was the parish priest. I supposed he had come
to ask alms, and sent a message intended to put off the demand,
explaining that I was only the doctor of the party, and that if there
was anything which he required, he must return when “the Bey”
(Dupuis) came back to camp and tell him about it. To my surprise he
sent an answer that he wished to see me and not the Bey, and that he
was not seeking alms. That being so, I was very pleased to receive
him, and found that he wanted treatment for the itch.
When he had gone I took my rod and tried a fly in the muddy river;
but the fish did not rise. So I gave up casting, which brought me
nothing but the armache, and went out with my gun. On the swampy
ground bordering the lake I shot three of the big geese that are
found there in great abundance. They were for the camp larder, not
for mine, as I thought the flesh rank and tough. The boys had often
asked me to shoot one and give it to them.
[Illustration: FORDING THE RIVER GUMARA.
_See p._ 105.]
On Sunday, January 18, I moved to our new camping-ground. It was
a well-wooded spot, grassy and full of wild flowering plants of
many kinds. This pleasant place is called Sara; it is six or seven
miles distant from the lake. Game was plentiful. On the way I shot
a sand-grouse, and, taking my gun in the afternoon, brought down
two plovers of a kind which I had not seen before. One, probably
the male bird, had excrescences of yellow skin on each side of the
beak. There were snipe and quail in abundance, but I did not get
within range of any.
During the day a man came to me who had a splinter of wood about two
inches long buried in his leg near the shin. To remove it I had to
cut down a couple of inches into the flesh. My patient endured the
operation without wincing.
Approaching the camp on the way back, I heard tomtoms, women warbling
after the manner of the country and the ringing of bells. I supposed
for a moment that a stray shot of mine had injured some one and that
the neighbourhood was in an uproar about it, and expected to find
a demonstration in progress. But on making inquiry I learned that
next day the Epiphany was celebrated, when there is a general feast
and holiday throughout Abyssinia. The gathering of Habashes was in a
hut near the river where they had come to be ready for the opening
of the festival. This is the blessing of the water by the priest,
and the people are allowed to bathe in it after the ceremony. I did
not myself see that any availed themselves of the privilege.
The Habashes, who had assembled near the stream, began their singular
devotions at daybreak. Mansfield Parkyns witnessed the whole procedure
of one of these commemoration feasts, and his lively account of it
is as exact now as when it was written:—
“As we have already stated while speaking of the fasts, the day
before the Epiphany is passed by the priests and other devout men
in abstinence until sunset. During the afternoon the Holy Sacrament
is administered to the priests only, in their churches. After the
conclusion of the ceremony they form in procession, and, accompanied
by the defterers or scribes, and bearing with them all the church
paraphernalia, go down to the neighbouring rivulet. Tents are
pitched near its banks, ready to receive them, and there is a store
of comestibles of every variety, with, of course, the usual large
proportion of beer and honey-mead; the whole of which good things
are from the voluntary contributions of the devout of the parish.
“When the much-wished-for sunset has arrived the feasting begins,
and it is fearful to behold with what vigour the half-famished divines
set to work. There is abundance for them; for the food being begged
as a supply for the ark, or tabote, the superstitious people think
that they are doing a very godly act in providing vast quantities,
while in reality the only result is that the priests make beasts
of themselves. The whole night is often passed in alternate prayer,
singing, dancing, and drinking. The songs and dances are both of a
religious kind: the latter probably taken from the religious dancing
of the Israelites, frequently mentioned in the Bible, is merely a
peculiar sort of shrugging of the body and stamping with the feet. The
end of these devotional orgies is the administration of the Sacrament
before sunrise; but it not unfrequently happens that long before that
time many of the priests are not in a very fit state to partake of it,
disgraceful scenes of drunkenness often disturbing these religious
festivals. During the evening of timkat, or the Epiphany, that I
passed at Adoua, several of the holy priests were found to have
tumbled into the neighbouring brook, Assam, overcome, as charitably
disposed persons may have said, by their religious fervour; though
some sinful scoffers—myself included, I fear—suggested that
liquor might have been the cause of their overthrow.
“After the Sacrament has been distributed among the priests,
the chief priest, raising his hands over the stream, blesses it,
and then the people bathe in it. Great men, however, and priests,
are sprinkled, to obviate the necessity of their mixing, even in
such a ceremony, with the vulgar herd. After this the women dance
and sing, and the men engage in various sports.”[73]
The “dancing” of the women seemed to me not unlike that which
is customary in Egypt and the Soudan. The chief feature of it was
the protruding of the chest and chin alternately. The more forcibly
this was done the more excellent was the style of the dancer. During
the performance they gasp like whirling dervishes.
The Abyssinian women are not kept in seclusion. Indeed, the liberty
which they have would be considered license from a European point
of view. But perhaps they had been shy of appearing before a
band of strangers. Anyhow, I had had no opportunity of forming an
opinion about the girls of Ethiopia while we travelled among the
villages. They came in numbers to the combined church-service and
dance which was in progress by the river, and I then found that some
were very decidedly good-looking. I took a couple of snap-shots of
one leading beauty, and the reader can determine for himself—or
herself—if she is fascinating. Tastes differ in these matters;
but it is fair to her to say that the charm of an animated, varying
expression and of lithe, graceful movements is poorly represented
in a photograph.
I took my place among the crowd, not by preference—for the Habash
resembles Gargonius more than Rufillus[74]—but that I might use
my camera effectively. Some of the young girls had one-half of the
head shaved, and this, I learned, was a sign that they had not yet
“come out.” It corresponded to short frocks and hair down the back
among us. Marriageable maidens had a tonsure—an odd contrast to our
employment of the same sign, more especially as it further denotes
that the damsel wishes to be mated. As far as I could discern the
dances are arranged by the older women with the object of letting
the girls be seen to advantage, and I noticed that the tonsures had
all been neatly renewed for the occasion. The hair grows naturally
in stiff ringlets, and these, springing up vigorously around the
shaven circle, make it a very striking feature. The married women
wear their hair plaited in rolls, which are saturated with grease.[75]
The gathering broke up about eleven o’clock in the morning and the
“congregation” left the bank of the stream. The “recessional”
was the tinkling of a bell carried by a miserable-looking little boy,
who was dressed in a red gown. He headed the party; then came the
priest, bearing a cross, and behind him the laity. It was a quaint
and interesting sight.
[Illustration: INTERESTED IN THE PHOTOGRAPHIC CAMERA.
_See p._ 102.]
[Illustration: WOMEN DANCING AT THE FEAST OF THE EPIPHANY.
_See p._ 110.]
When the camp was quiet again I turned my attention to entomology and
went out with a butterfly-net and a tin box to hold captures. Behind
me was a boy carrying my gun—a sort of Friday to my Robinson
Crusoe. We walked down the stream, and I saw many green swallow-tail
butterflies, but they were much too quick to be caught by my
pursuit. Presently I noticed that they were attracted by a certain
red mossy growth in the water, so I waited near a patch of this. A
butterfly hovered over it, and I made a dash for the specimen, and got
it, but damaged it in the process. Then I laid it, in as life-like an
attitude as I could give it, on the moss, and by this means secured
four fine specimens which came to see what my decoy had found.
In the afternoon I wandered up stream and saw one snipe, which I
shot as part of the menu for dinner. Then I left the course of the
river, and walked towards some trees which seemed to form a detached
clump. But as I drew nearer and fresh ground became visible, I found
that they were part of a fine wood. When I was close to the edge of
it, four quail rose at my feet. I tried to hit one, but was not sharp
enough. At the noise of the discharge a large bush-buck sprang up
in alarm and scampered off among the shrubs. The trees were chiefly
of the cypress family, and, following a footpath, I discovered the
explanation of this; for I came to an old ruinous church, and the
whole grove had spread gradually from its enclosure. Beyond the church
there was open ground, and a village lay at a little distance. The
scene was sunny, pleasant, and almost idyllic. I retraced my steps
and completed my bill of fare by adding a pigeon to the snipe.
The next day (January 20) I was medical officer to the country-side
again until half-past ten. One man had a half-inch splinter of wood
buried in his leg. He, like my former patient in a similar plight,
was very plucky and let me cut down on it and take it out. When I had
dressed the wound, he showed the zeal of his gratitude by throwing
himself upon the ground and trying to kiss my boots. Several of
my “cases” sent me offerings of eggs. About two dozen came in
altogether, a couple from one, three from another, and so on. I was
gratified, because these voluntary gifts, though they were small,
were tokens of good-will. Ordinarily the escort-officer[76] whom Ras
Gouksha, according to the custom of the country, had told off to
attend us, and whom we called “the tout,” extorted provisions
for us from the villagers—bread, milk, eggs, honey, grain, and
the like, we being entitled to levy this tribute as the official
guests of the Ras. The “tout” had gone with my companions to
Debra Tabor, and it was pleasant to find that, in his absence,
I received “benevolences” of another kind. This man professed
to be our guide for the journey round the lake, but we found that
he knew nothing at all about the roads and tracks. I may add that
the eggs spontaneously given were all new-laid, while those exacted
most emphatically were not.
After lunch I went out with my gun, and shot, besides a brace
of pigeons, a pair of fly-catchers of a very pretty kind. Their
plumage seemed to be worth preserving and I skinned them in the
afternoon. Later I had a complimentary visit from the priest. We
exchanged our respects in silence, by pantomime. He bowed and
displayed his deference ceremoniously in dumb-show, and I bowed in
return, and then the formalities ended. After this I talked to him
by the aid of Johannes. This priest was a leper suffering from the
form of the malady called “nerve leprosy.” He, poor fellow, had
not known the fact until I told him. I almost regretted that I had
unwittingly ended his ignorance. He showed the greatest astonishment
and interest while he listened to an account of the methods employed
in the treatment of the disease in Europe.
I was up early on the morning of January 21, and set to work to put a
coat of paint on the boat, but patients soon found me out and changed
my occupation. One case interested me much. It was that of an old
lady, a _dear_ old lady, who told me that she was a hundred years
old! Why she reversed feminine tradition by saying that, I cannot
tell; upon closer observation I judged her age to be about fifty-five,
allowing for the earlier senescence of Oriental people. She had heard
of me in Tigre, eighty-five miles distant, and had come all the way
to Sara that I might examine her broken wrist. The fracture was a
fortnight old, and I found that the bone had been set very sensibly,
and bound up with a ligature made of strips of cane strung together
upon a piece of leather. This made an excellent splint. The injury
was in a favourable position, and the _soi-disant_ centenarian had
full use of her fingers. I set up the fracture just as it had been
bound before, only with cotton-wool, a couple of bits of cardboard
and a neat new bandage. I thought that, as the patient had made
such a journey to consult me, she deserved that much treatment,
and she would have been sorely disappointed if she had returned to
Tigre with no outward and visible sign of the European doctor’s
attention to show to her friends. As it was, she was pleased and
grateful, and took the homeward road forthwith in all contentment.
About four o’clock in the afternoon my companions returned from
Debra Tabor. They had been received three times “in audience” by
the Ras, but I did not gather that any very deep impression had been
made upon them. They were, in fact, relieved to think that no more
visits of ceremony were in prospect. To the grief of all, one of our
soldiers had died on the journey. He was seized with fever the day
after he started, rapidly became worse, had to be left in a hut some
six miles out of Debra Tabor, and succumbed during the evening of
the second day of his illness. From a description of the symptoms,
I judged that his death was caused by severe intestinal irritation,
probably due to ptomaine poisoning. This, in all probability, resulted
from eating putrescent meat, a practice which we could not suppress
among our men, though it was particularly likely to be fatal in such
a climate as that of Abyssinia.
My companions brought with them some guinea-fowl and a sheep, and
we bought an ox in camp, which was to be killed the next day at
Korata. The cost of it was seven dollars, or about twelve shillings
and six pence, the vendor reserving the hide for his own purposes
as a condition of the bargain. That night a hyena was prowling
round my tent. I was not sure what manner of beast it was until
Crawley enlightened me next day. It certainly would not be safe for
a traveller to sleep in the open in places haunted by these creatures.
On the morning of January 22, after some delay in starting, we made
a steady jog-trot journey, through dried grass in a well-timbered
country, down the gentle slope that trends away from the plateau. The
track which we followed was rocky for the most part, and lay in
cultivable land. We saw enclosed fields here and there and numerous
villages—one in every four miles or so. There was no mishap, except
when the donkeys stuck in the mud at the bottom of the watercourses,
or lay down in it. And then it was dirty work to get them on, or
up. Just before one o’clock we arrived in Korata Bay and pitched
our camp there.
[Illustration: THE ‘CANDELABRA EUPHORBIA’ ON THE EDGE OF A DRY
WATER-COURSE.
_See p._ 66.]
[Illustration: BETWEEN SARA AND KORATA.
_See p._ 114.]
After lunch my companions started on muleback with their guns. They
were to be guided by a native boy about eighteen years old, whom our
interpreter Johannes had engaged in the town, and who said that he
knew where game was to be found. Crawley took the young fellow’s
staff in one hand, and in the other held out a Maria-Theresa dollar,
and made him understand by signs that if the sport was good he would
get the money, but if no game was seen he would have a cudgelling. The
humour of this tickled his fancy very much, and he was convulsed
with laughter over it. It was the first time I had seen an Abyssinian
enjoy a hearty laugh.
Korata stands upon a promontory. When I had held a “doctor’s
parade,” I took my gun and walked round the point of this little
headland. There appeared to be no birds to shoot, and I had made
up my mind to turn back empty-handed, when I saw a couple of fat
little ducks on a rock in the lake. I shot them when they rose, and,
knowing they were dead, sat down to wait till the waves brought them
within reach. The noise of the firing roused the curiosity of two
Abyssinians, who came up to me and bowed. Then one very obligingly
walked into the water and fetched out the birds. After this both
accompanied me, the first carrying the ducks, the other bearing my
gun. I understood that they meant to show me the way over the brow
of the hill and through Korata to our camp.
We left the sandy beach, and walked up a rocky track full of loose
stones into the town. It is merely a collection of tokhuls scattered
in groups of six or seven among untended coffee plantations. These are
not separated by hedges or fences, and perhaps I might best convey an
idea of their appearance to an English reader by comparing them to a
series of neglected orchards without traceable boundaries. Indeed,
I should have supposed that the coffee bushes, which attain a most
remarkable size, grew wild here, if it were not for a statement in
Consul Plowden’s report. He wrote: “The more temperate provinces
would probably be favourable to the growth of pepper, spices,
and coffee, which last has already been planted at Korata.”[77]
Evidently the soil is admirably suited for the raising of this produce
to advantage; the coffee is of an excellent quality, and though the
natives bestow no trouble and spend no money on the industry, there is
even now a steady export trade in the berries from this district. The
principal market for it is in the Soudan, where the demand is likely
to be larger as the development of Upper Egypt proceeds.
We traversed the main thoroughfare on the way back to camp. It is
so narrow that two persons cannot pass abreast. On either side is a
bank overgrown with nettles and other weeds. I saw very few people;
the life of the place seemed to be stagnant, and here, as elsewhere
in Abyssinia, there was very little money in circulation. Judging
roughly, I should estimate that Korata contains a population of
some two thousand, and that three-quarters of these are Soudanese
slaves. It is the custom among the Habashes that each man has a
boy-slave, and each married woman a girl-slave. The attitude of mind
of the Christian Abyssinians towards these wretched people is well
shown by the following slight incident—as I was walking through
Korata with the two Habashes who had volunteered to guide me, we
passed a couple of slave-boys. I said, “Soudanis,” and immediately
my companions spat upon the ground to signify their contempt.
When we reached camp I gave my new acquaintances a drink of chartreuse
in token of my gratitude, and then they squatted in front of my
tent, and seemed greatly interested in watching me while I dressed
a wound on the leg of one of the donkey-boys. They were doing no
harm, but “the tout” bustled up in his most consequential mood
to hurry them off, and I think he hit one of them. Anyhow, there
was some disturbance, and the other Habashes made common cause. The
corporal came to report to me that the escort officer was drunk,
and had struck a man. Thereupon I summoned “the tout” and rated
him, and ordered him to go and apologize to those visitors of mine,
who had done me a service. Matters straightened themselves out,
for the two men came to me half an hour later to say good-bye, and
they appeared to be perfectly happy and contented. They “bowed and
scraped” in the usual Abyssinian manner before they took their
departure. “The tout” made some representation to Dupuis when
he returned to camp; so I explained that the fellow was tipsy and
troublesome, and he was sent about his business. I gathered that he
asked leave to go, and hoped that he meant to quit us altogether,
but found afterwards that he had only sought permission to spend
the night in the town—over more tedj, of course. Dupuis paid no
heed to what he was saying, so off he went, but came back in an
unruffled mood, and full of complacency, on the following morning. I
think Johannes gave us the explanation of his conduct—that he had
orders from the Ras to make sure that we three Europeans should have
as little intercourse as possible with the Habashes.
That night the noise in our camp disturbed a hippo, whose
resting-place in the reeds was close by. I heard him snorting
loudly and angrily. He had a prescriptive right to quiet sleep
in that place, and I felt that we were intruders upon the ancient
order. The old-world life seemed to have a _raison d’être_ superior
to that of a modern expedition, and though the hippo kept me awake,
I sympathized with his indignation.
He and his kind were prominent figures in the scene next morning
(January 23). We counted five that were in sight together, and four
were less than two hundred yards from the shore.
After breakfast we visited the celebrated church of Korata. I am not
sure that it is the only one in the place, but its reputation makes
it _the_ church of Korata. We were told that a certain Frenchman
had travelled from France expressly to see it; if he did, it will be
owned that he was an exceptional Gaul, for the length and discomfort
of his journey were out of all proportion to the satisfaction to be
obtained at the end of it. The building—as my photograph of the
exterior shows—is circular, with thatched walls, and in point of
structure differs only in size from the village churches. It stands
in a compound, surrounded by a rough stone wall. The entrances are
two lich-gates, surmounted by thatched porticoes.
The church owes its especial sanctity to the patronage of a female
saint. Her chief exploit has been described by Mr. Hormuzd Rassam, and
as the passage in which he recounts it is full of the “atmosphere”
of the country, I quote it in full:—“In accordance with orders
from the King (Theodore) the two principal merchants of the place
(Korata) Aito Kasa and Aito Wandé—the latter, as mentioned above,
the person on whom Theodore had bestowed Lij Tasamma’s sister,
one of his favourite concubines—came out in a wherry to meet us
about a mile from the shore, clad in gorgeous habiliments. After
an interchange of civilities, we followed them to a small plateau
which rises above the lake about two miles to the south of the town,
where upwards of a hundred ecclesiastics from the neighbourhood were
assembled to welcome us, his Majesty having directed the clergy to
receive me with royal honours, and to take care that their persons
and garments were scrupulously clean. They were in full canonicals,
and greeted us with prayers and psalmody, conducting us with the same
accompaniments to a tent which had been erected for the occasion,
a few yards from our landing-place. The glitter of the pageant was
heightened by a grand display of crosses, croziers, mitres, church
umbrellas, David’s harps and censers, which were born aloft in the
procession. After spending a short time witnessing their religious
dances and listening to their discordant chants, the benediction was
pronounced, and the Lord’s Prayer wound up the service, when we
accompanied the merchants to their dwellings on mules provided for our
use. Korata rejoices in a patron saint of great celebrity—a native
Joan of Arc, in fact—called Waldt-Maryam. She was a resident nun
when a formidable Galla Chief, who had overrun a great part of the
country, appeared before Korata. She encouraged the townsmen to defend
the place, and their valour combined with her powerful intercessions
availed to withstand the repeated assaults of the infidel hosts,
who were eventually obliged to retreat with great loss. Since that
time the town has been placed under her special patronage, and to
show their veneration for the locality Abyssinians generally dismount
on approaching it, and walk on foot through the streets.”[78]
[Illustration: THE CHURCH AT KORATA CONTAINING THE FRESCOES.
_See p._ 118.]
[Illustration: THE PORTUGUESE BRIDGE OVER THE BLUE NILE.
_See p._ 147.
_From a Photograph by Mr. C. E. Dupuis._]
It is curious to reflect that the name of this remote little township
in Western Abyssinia was once very familiar to British ears, and it
would scarcely be straining an accepted phrase to say that the eyes
of the nation were turned towards this place; for while the British
mission was here and King Theodore was encamped on the peninsula
of Zegi, on the opposite shore of the lake, the negotiations about
“the captives” reached and passed the crucial stage in the early
months of 1866. The end of the story, as the whole world knows,
was the suicide of the King at Magdala. It is difficult even now,
in spite of all that has been written on the subject, to judge
how far he was mad and how far sane, how far a capricious, clever,
cruel savage, and how far a man of good parts and fine character
marred by circumstances.
In the church of Korata we first saw Abyssinian frescoes. It struck
me that they had an unmistakable resemblance to the Persian style,
and, in some instances, in spite of their crudity, the depiction of
the faces is good. The “exposure” photographs which I obtained
show the types of the subjects represented. Saint George, who is
the patron of Abyssinia as he is of England, is always a prominent
figure. The holy people who, by established usage, are admitted to
the “goodly fellowship” on the walls include certain worthies of
the Apocrypha. The picture which struck me most showed the Virgin and
Child crossing the Red Sea—probably during the flight to Egypt—in
an Abyssinian rush-boat and feeding hippopotami with bread as they
went. They are seated in the stern and are rowed by a Habash.
[Illustration: ]
[Illustration: FRESCOES IN THE CHURCH AT KORATA.
_See p._ 120.]
The church of Korata has a large staff of priests and _defterers_
or scribes.[79] To benefit fully by the sanctity of the place,
they sleep in the porches, on the beds which are called _angareebs_
in the Soudan. A theological school is attached to the holy building,
and we saw five or six of the students. One of them was suffering from
the disease which Stecker found to be so distressingly prevalent in
Abyssinia. The Chief Priest received us very graciously. He was much
interested when we named the saints depicted in the frescoes, and
appeared suddenly to realize that we were Christians. He seemed to
have the impression that an English official’s training comprised
instruction in all handicrafts; for he put into my friend Dupuis’s
hands the separate parts, including the mainspring and all the wheels,
of an old silver timepiece, and signified through the interpreter
to my astonished companion that he was desired to put them together
again and return the watch in working order. Dupuis explained that
he was not a “practical jeweller and repairer.” The agreeable
old dignitary, whose name was John, received an offering of ten
dollars with great gratitude.
Later in the day he sent me as a patient one of his students, who was
suffering from ophthalmia. This man brought a citron for each of us
three Europeans; why, I cannot guess, for this pulpy kind of lemon is
not a useful gift, nor a delight for a _gourmet_. The fruit may have
had some symbolical meaning, but, if so, we remained in ignorance
of it. I saw many other patients. Nearly all suffered from trivial
ailments. A woman and her husband, who both appeared to be in sound
health, kept trying to tell me some long tale or other, hovered
about near me, and drew my attention at every turn. Finally they
induced a soldier to interpret for them, and besought me to attend
to the woman’s case. When I examined her, I found that she had
come to consult me about the traces of the scar of an abscess which
had healed, as far as I could judge, some twenty years before! This
blemish on her “beauty” was about the size of a shilling.
In the afternoon we went shooting. The boy—Zody by name—who had
been so tickled by my friend’s dumb-show on the previous day, and
had earned his dollar by taking my comrades where guinea-fowl were
plentiful, again attached himself to our party. He guided us well,
and we made a good bag of quail, guinea-fowl, and partridges.
When we returned we found that we had received a present from
the lady of the Ras in whose dominions we were. It consisted of
loaves of “teff” bread, ten fowls, sixty eggs and a jar of
honey. All this we distributed among the men. The Ras’s wife was
owner of the soil hereabouts; it had been given to her as dowry,
and in such a case a woman has practically absolute proprietorship,
and the taxes are collected for her benefit. But her authority does
not extend to the selection of officials; that power remains in the
hands of the Ras. As the Mussulmans had killed during the day the ox
which we had bought for twelve shillings and sixpence, the men had
plenty of good fare before them, and our own larder was not badly
stocked. Vultures of enormous size gathered round the spot where the
animal was slaughtered, and fought over the offal that was left on
the ground. Numbers of carrion crows had flocked to the feast, and
had to be spectators for the most part. But they slipped in among
the big combatants now and then, and filched away a morsel adroitly.
I have given rather fully my impressions of Korata, which is a
typical township of Western Abyssinia. It may interest the reader if
I supplement it by the brief note written by Stecker, who sojourned
in the place more than a fortnight. He wrote—
“On April 1” (1881) “we reached Korata, the most important,
most charmingly situated and largest town on Lake Tsana. Korata has
often been visited by Europeans before, most recently by Piaggia,
who stayed here about a year and a half and occupied himself with
ornithology. Korata is famous for the first-rate excellence of its
coffee, which, as I was able to satisfy myself, flourishes here
exceptionally. The place is almost the most important market on the
Tsana, but at the moment does not contain more than eight hundred
to one thousand inhabitants against three thousand in Theodore’s
time, as very many have either migrated from the town or died of
fever. At an earlier time the Mohammedans were numerous here, but
most of them emigrated to Gallabat after the order issued to them by
King John that they should one and all embrace Christianity. Only a
few families abandoned Islamism and adopted the Coptic faith. There
are also three Jewish families living here. Korata is divided
into ten districts whose names are Dengelteffa, Tukuwodeb, Margeza,
Kulomalfia, Siet biet Negus, Guaguata, Guwi, Adisamba, Vof tschogevia,
Gusudur, and Slam biet (or Slam modeb), which last is at present
entirely deserted. Korata is the abode of an exceptionally numerous
priesthood.” Dr. Stecker formed friendships among the laity in
the place, but “by no means lived in the best harmony with the
pretentious clergy.”[80]