We remained two days at Korata in order to replenish our stock of
grain and other provisions. During this time I watched the birds
of prey as closely as I could. They are of the same species as
those found in the Soudan, and my rough and brief observations,
so far as they went, altogether confirmed the interesting remarks
of Sir S. Baker on the subject. The passage illustrates so well
the brilliant combination in that explorer of keen sportsmanship,
and rare ability in the study of natural history that I need offer
no apology for quoting it:—
“A question has been frequently discussed whether the vulture is
directed to his prey by the sense of smell, or by keenness of vision;
I have paid much attention to their habits, and, although there can
be no question that their power of scent is great, I feel convinced
that all birds of prey are attracted to their food principally by
their acuteness of sight. If a vulture were blind it would starve;
but were the nostrils plugged up with some foreign substance to
destroy its power of smell, it would not materially interfere with
its usual mode of hunting. Scent is always stronger near the surface
of the ground: thus hyenas, lions, and other beasts of prey will
scent a carcase from a great distance, provided they are to leeward;
but the same animals would be unaware of the presence of the body
if they were but a short distance to windward.
“If birds of prey trusted to their nostrils, they would keep as
near the ground as possible, like the carrion crow, which I believe
is the exception that proves the rule. It is an astonishing sight to
witness the sudden arrival of vultures at the death of an animal, when
a few moments before not a bird has been in sight in the cloudless
sky. I have frequently lain down beneath a bush after having shot
an animal, to watch the arrival of the various species of birds in
regular succession; they invariably appear in the following order:—
“No. 1, the black and white crow: this knowing individual is most
industrious is seeking for his food, and is generally to be seen
either perched upon rocks or upon trees; I believe he trusts much
to his sense of smell, as he is never far from the ground; at the
same time he keeps a vigilant look-out with a very sharp pair of eyes.
“No. 2 is the common buzzard; this bird, so well known for its
extreme daring, is omnipresent, and trusts generally to sight,
as it will stoop at a piece of red cloth in mistake for flesh;
thus proving that it depends more upon vision than smell.
“No. 3 is the red-faced small vulture.
“No. 4 is the large bare-throated vulture.
“No. 5 the marabou stork, sometimes accompanied by the adjutant.
“When employed in watching the habits of these birds it is
interesting to make the experiment of concealing a dead animal
beneath a dense bush. This I have frequently done; in which case
the vultures never find it unless they have witnessed its death;
if so, they will already have pounced in their descent while you
have been engaged in concealing the body. They will then upon near
approach discover it by the smell. But, if an animal is killed
in thick grass, eight or ten feet high, the vultures will seldom
discover it. I have frequently known the bodies of large animals,
such as elephants and buffaloes, to lie for days beneath the shade
of the dense nabbuk bushes, unattended by a single vulture; whereas,
if visible, they would have been visited by these birds in thousands.
“Vultures and the marabou stork fly at enormous altitudes. I believe
that every species keeps to its own particular elevation, and that the
atmosphere contains regular strata of birds of prey, who, invisible
to the human eye at that enormous height, are constantly resting
upon their wide-spread wings, and, soaring in circles, watching with
telescopic sight the world beneath. At that great elevation they are
in an exceedingly cool temperature, therefore they require no water;
but some birds that make long flights over arid deserts, such as
the marabou stork and the bustard, are provided with water-sacs;
the former in an external bag a little below the throat, the latter
in an internal sac, both of which carry a large supply. As the birds
of prey that I have enumerated invariably appear at a carcase in their
regular succession, I can only suggest that they travel from different
distances or altitudes. Thus, the marabou stork would be farthest from
the earth; the large bare-necked vulture would be the next below him,
followed by the red-faced vulture, the buzzard, and the crow that is
generally about the surface. From their immense elevation, the birds
of prey possess an extraordinary field of vision; and, although they
are invisible from the earth, there can be no doubt that they are
perpetually hunting in circles within sight of each other. Thus,
should one bird discover some object upon the surface of the earth
below, his sudden pounce would be at once observed and imitated by
every vulture in succession. Should one vulture nearest the earth
perceive a body, or even should he notice the buzzards collecting at a
given point, he would at once become aware of a prey; his rush towards
the spot would act like a telegraphic signal to others, that would
be rapidly communicated to every vulture at successive airy stations.
“If an animal be skinned, the red surface will attract the vultures
in an instant; this proves that their sight, and not their scent,
has been attracted by an object that suggests blood. I have frequently
watched them when I have shot an animal, and my people have commenced
the process of skinning. At first, not a bird has been in sight,
as I have lain on my back and gazed into the spotless blue sky; but
hardly has the skin been half withdrawn, than specks have appeared
in the heavens, rapidly increasing. ‘Caw, caw,’ has been heard
several times from the neighbouring bushes; the buzzards have swept
down close to my people, and have snatched a morsel of clotted blood
from the ground. The specks have increased to winged creatures, at
the great height resembling flies, when presently a rushing sound
behind me, like a whirlwind, has been followed by the pounce of a
red-faced vulture, that has fallen from the heavens in haste with
closed wings to the bloody feast, followed quickly by many of his
brethren. The sky has become alive with black specks in the far
distant blue, with wings hurrying from all quarters. At length a
coronet of steady soaring vultures forms a wide circle far above, as
they hesitate to descend, but continue to revolve around the object
of attraction. The great bare-necked vulture suddenly appears. The
animal has been skinned, and the required flesh secured by the men;
we withdraw a hundred paces from the scene. A general rush and
descent takes place; hundreds of hungry beaks are tearing at the
offal. The great bare-necked vulture claims respect among the crowd;
but another form has appeared in the blue sky, and rapidly descends. A
pair of long, ungainly legs, hanging down beneath the enormous wings,
now touch the ground, and Abou Seen (father of the teeth or beak,
the Arab name for the Marabou) has arrived, and he stalks proudly
towards the crowds, pecking his way with his long bill through
the struggling vultures, and swallowing the lion’s share of the
repast. Abou Seen, last but not least, had arrived from the highest
region, while others had the advantage of the start. This bird is very
numerous through the Nile tributaries of Abyssinia, and may generally
be seen perched upon the rocks of the waterside, watching for small
fish, or any reptile that may chance to come within his reach. The
well-known feathers are situated in a plume beneath the tail.”[81]
On the night of January 23, the thermometer sank to 29° F. just
before sunrise, so no one turned out with alacrity, and we were
later than usual in starting.
I was surprised to find that the boy Zody sought to attach himself
to the expedition. While we were preparing to leave Korata he
came to us and said, “You are good people and I want to go with
you.” We raised no objection, and he joined our party. A little
while afterwards he declared his intention of accompanying us to
the Soudan. Thereupon he returned to Korata and “realized his
capital” by selling the cow which he possessed. Then he overtook
the expedition, and served throughout the journey to Gallabat,
receiving the same pay as the other boys. He was smart, willing, and
useful, soon learned from his comrades what our requirements were,
and acted both as indoor and outdoor servant. He had no Arabic,
and all intercourse between us was by signs, which he was extremely
quick to understand. The motive that prompted him to render us
service was undoubtedly his devoted loyalty to Crawley.
Most travellers have given the Habashes a thoroughly bad character. It
is said that they are vain, greedy, treacherous, and cowardly. Though
we Europeans had but few unpleasant experiences of them while we
were in the country, I cannot say that I saw anything which would
give me authority to dispute the conclusions of writers who knew
them better from longer observation, and it is the more pleasant
on this account to record an instance of an Abyssinian’s fidelity
and cheerful good-will.
We marched through the familiar dry grass for about half an hour
after we left Korata, and then reached the river Gelda at a place
where, according to the “tout,” it was fordable. This is a
muddy, rapid stream, flowing between earthy banks. Its bed here
was soft and yielding, and there was not the least possibility of
getting the beasts and baggage across. In fact, our guide had misled
us. It was a most annoying waste of time. While we were shooting on
the previous day we had seen a fording-place higher up the stream,
and now struck towards it in spite of the “tout’s” assertion
that the water there would be up to the men’s necks.
When we reached the spot, we found a shallow, fairly fast current
flowing over a rocky bed. The guide was entirely unabashed by the
fact that he had misdirected us and lied to us. After this we ceased
to consult natives and planned our course according to Stecker’s
map, and in this way managed the matter well enough. There are
some small inaccuracies in the doctor’s work, but it is entirely
sufficient for all practical purposes and a worthy record of the
German traveller’s high attainments and untiring patience.
The ledges of rock which form the bed of the river at the upper ford
are smooth and round, and in consequence very slippery. We had a busy
time getting the donkeys over. Men had to be posted in the water to
steady them as they crossed, but the real trouble was at the further
bank. It was high and steep, and the way up was by a narrow cutting
with a hard surface. The first wet donkey that passed along this made
it as insecure for foothold as a slide, and the next donkey struggled
and scrambled and fell back into the water. We had to tell off boys
to shovel relays of earth on to the slope and then others grabbed
the donkey’s load, its ear, its tail, or anything they could get
a grip of, and shoved it up bodily. Another detachment was on duty
on the top of the bank to prevent the animals from straying.
Beyond the river lies a steep hill about five hundred feet high. The
ascent is by a track of the usual kind, about a foot and a half
wide. The way down from the summit is very precipitous and was full
of loose stones. These the donkeys often dislodged, and many rolled
along and struck the animals that were moving in front, but we had
no trouble with them.
We passed a village which is called Selselima, consisting of the usual
tokhuls grouped about a round thatched church. Here I saw an example
of Abyssinian methods of administration. A lad of about eighteen
was standing in a field, watching us pass. Ras Gouksha’s man,
the “tout,” went up to him, grabbed him by his gown, and began
to question him. Soon another Abyssinian approached him, grasped the
boy’s _shama_ in like manner, and also interrogated him. I inquired
what they were asking, and was told they were seeking directions to
guide them by the nearest way to the source of the Blue Nile, which
was then some four miles distant. Presently without apparent reason,
both our fellows began to belabour the lad with their staves. I rode
up and ordered them sharply to desist, and explain to me what they
were about. Thereupon they made off, and one of our escort told me
they had been beating the boy so as to force him to act as their
guide—without pay, of course—and accompany them to the river,
though he had already given them full directions for the road.
The end of the descent brought us to the lake shore again, and we
camped on the further bank of a little stream of clear water running
in a rocky bed. It is called the Tschembolo. This is near to the
village of Woreb, and is only two miles from the point where the
Blue Nile flows from Lake Tsana. We could not proceed further that
day, for the march had been a long one, and it was late already. So
we halted upon this spot by the brook, as it was a very suitable
camping-ground with a clean drinking supply, and determined to move
on the morrow to a more central position, if we could find one,
for the survey work which Crawley and Dupuis were to undertake.
Patients had followed me from Korata. They were people who had
reached our camp there in the morning, after I had packed up the
medicine-chest and mounted my mule. Some half a dozen had come over to
Woreb after us, and were now waiting to see me. But I was dead tired
that evening and refused to attend to them. There were no serious
cases, and I told those who wished to have advice to return at nine
o’clock the next morning. If I had made myself more accessible than
I was, I should have been mobbed not only by the sick in Abyssinia,
but by a host of people who fancied they had ailments.
[Illustration: OUR GUIDE BETWEEN KORATA AND WOREB.
_See p._ 132.]
Just before dinner there was a commotion close to our tents, and
we found that one of the soldiers of our escort had tried to stab
Walda Mariam,[82] the assistant of Johannes, with whom he had come to
meet us at Gallabat. We immediately disarmed the soldier, and then
discovered that both had been to a village near by to get _tedj_,
and were drunk. So we disarmed the deputy-interpreter also, and I
was sorry to see him in disgrace, for he had always been willing,
hard-working, and cheery on the journey. We placed the soldier under
arrest, and warned him that if he were found brawling again he would
be flogged. Then, order being restored, we went to dinner.
In this part of Abyssinia the mountain air sharpened our appetites,
and I must own that we were sturdy trenchermen. Each would tackle a
whole guinea-fowl or duck for lunch, and be ready for another in the
evening. We had puddings “of sorts” too, and yet, like Oliver
Twist, we “asked for more.”
On the morning of January 26, the quarrelsome soldier, now sober
and crestfallen, was brought up for a formal reprimand. He was told
that his case would be reported at Gallabat, and that he would be
punished there according to military law. Then his arms were returned
to him. Walda Mariam also attended, looking sheepish and sorry for
himself, and his weapons too were restored to him.
After this the medicine-chest was unloaded, and I redeemed my promise
to patients. One family—father, mother, and two children—had come
from a distance to consult me at Korata. They had arrived too late,
and had followed us to Woreb. The father was suffering from necrosis
of the lower jaw, and I had to draw three teeth for him. The mother
had come to hear what instructions were given about the children—a
little boy and a little girl. They were suffering from strumous,
tuberculous glands of the neck. I had as “hospital orderly”
a soldier who understood Arabic and Amharic, and could therefore
put me _en rapport_ with my patients. After an examination of the
children, I concluded that the right thing would be an operation
with the knife. I told this to the woman, and the soldier interpreted
what I said word for word. As soon as the little girl heard the word
“knife,” she gave vent to the loudest, most piercing scream that
she could utter, and fairly flew from the spot. The noise created
a sensation among the Habashes and boys, who seemed to think that
I was killing a patient. It would have been awkward in any case to
operate in camp, and on this occasion I had no opportunity. Nothing
short of brute force would have brought the little girl back, and
I think the word “knife” conveyed to her mother and brother the
notion of the butcher’s rather than the surgeon’s implement.
My companions had mounted their mules and started on an exploring
journey, intending to select a good site as a camping-ground close
to the river. But by the time they returned they had decided that
our present position could not be bettered, as the river-banks were
low ground covered with papyrus swamps, and any halting-place there
would be very unhealthy. They had also found that all the points from
which they wished to make observations were easy of access from the
spot that we had chosen.
I had a rather sharp touch of fever in the afternoon, and was obliged
to give up work and lie down. These attacks are unavoidable at times
in that country. They make one feel extremely helpless and depressed
while they last, but soon yield to quinine and a little rest.
The next morning, January 26, I was better, but felt shaky when I
got on my mule and started with my companions. At a short distance
from the camp we left the animals in a hollow and climbed a steep
hill about five hundred feet high. It was covered with tall grass
and the soil was stony, so that I was soon out of breath. But when
we reached the summit a lovely scene lay in front of us. The Blue
Nile, winding away from its outlet in the lake, was bright in the
sunshine. The green banks on either side were delightful to the eyes,
and here and there in the stream were little islands, vivid in colour,
where the papyrus grew to a height of twelve or fourteen feet. There
were many dark dots in the water—heads of hippopotami, which swarm
in these upper reaches of the Blue Nile. Mountains rise above the
river-valley on both sides, and the stream curves among the spurs at
their base, till it is lost to sight. The view from the high land
is far-reaching, and the clearness of the air makes even distant
outlines very distinct. I can scarcely imagine a scene at once so
charming, tranquil, and impressive as this prospect of lake, river,
and mountains. It is impossible to convey in words the effect of
the simple, strong colouring—the blue lake, the flashing stream,
the verdurous islands and swamps, the cloudless, lustrous sky, the
chromes and grays and purplish shadows among the ridges that sweep
upward and recede from the valley in splendid lines. And upon the
peace of this landscape at least, the personally conducted tripper
will not intrude just yet.
I noticed several cataracts, but none of any great extent. The water
in these rapids was rushing over and between rocks, and they must be
ugly places when the lake rises. In other parts the river was smooth
and still. In one pool we counted eighteen hippos taking the air,
just their snouts being out of water.
Almost at once we set to work and piled up a heap of stones, and fixed
in the centre of it a long pole as a landmark. This was a straight,
thin branch which we cut from a tree near at hand. After this we
set up three more “cairns” on selected spots, and then descended
to the low ground, where the mules were waiting. I remained in the
valley, for exertion soon tires one out after the fever. My friends
climbed other hills and erected more landmarks before returning to
lunch. In the meanwhile I tried my luck at angling in the river,
but caught nothing, and soon gave up the attempt, and lounged under
a palm-tree, reading.
My companions started on their mules after lunch to continue
their survey, and I went back to camp and was glad to be idle. The
day’s work was ended before evening, and I believe we were the
first Britishers who had five-o’clock tea beside the head waters
of the Blue Nile.
Next morning (January 27) I had instructions to set up a stone-heap
on a little hill about four miles from camp. I made my way to it
direct through a tangle of jungle-growths, and from the summit
obtained the photograph of the source of the river at the point of
outflow from the lake which forms the frontispiece of this book. I
believe this to be the only photo of the place in existence.
I descended the hill, and walked along the riverbank towards the
place where we had arranged to lunch. The soil was boggy, covered in
some parts by reed-grass and in others by jungle-growths. Hippo spoor
was everywhere. This tract is not well-wooded; there are a few palms,
and some scattered trees of other kinds, chiefly mimosas. The bed of
the river is hard rock, and the water was clear and drinkable. The
depth varied very greatly, from a few inches in the rapids to some
six metres in the pools. I saw the stream at its lowest. Watermarks
showed clearly that in flood time it rises sixteen to eighteen feet
above this level.
When I reached the place where we were to lunch, I saw a big herd
of hippos basking on the surface of the river. Crawley and I walked
towards them, and when they saw us, they sank, leaving only their
snouts visible. These offered an interesting target for rifle-fire,
and for awhile the hippos watched our practice with unconcern. Then
a shot told—there was a “general post”—and not a sign of
the huge beasts remained in sight.
After this I took my rod and tried for a fish in a pool below a
rapid. While I was standing there, I saw a large white eagle, a
splendid fellow, which had been watching me fishing, swoop from the
branch of a high tree. He circled twice above me, and then pounced
upon a young duck, that was hiding under a ledge in the river-bed,
and bore it off. The parent birds were close at hand, and I heard
their loud, frightened, and indignant cackling. I do not think wild
duck are plentiful hereabouts. No doubt they are harried by these
eagles and have to find safer breeding-places. We saw only a very
few. I landed a plump fish of the perch tribe, which weighed about
four pounds. He showed no fight, but came tamely into shallow water,
where the boy who was with me picked him up. My friends came late
into camp after a hard day’s work upon their survey.
The high ground beside the head waters of the Blue Nile is pleasant
and healthy and could support a large population. The maximum
temperature in the day, when we were there, was about eighty-five
degrees. Usually a cool, exhilarating breeze was blowing, and we
did not feel the heat disagreeably. If this place were more easily
accessible, it would be a perfect pleasure-resort and a most valuable
sanatorium for residents in the Soudan.
The event of January 28, was the appearance of potatoes at
table. I had often gazed at this unvarying factor in one’s diet
with indifference if not slightingly, and had wondered why the
things were served so constantly at European tables. It was not
till we missed the daily luxury that we appreciated it. The roast
fowl was another bird with this accompaniment. These were the only
potatoes that we saw in Abyssinia; they were very small. The cook
had discovered them in a remote hamlet. I can offer no explanation
of their presence in that place. He purchased a sackful for one salt
and an empty lime-juice bottle, and returned to camp in triumph,
shouting at the top of his voice that he had found “batatas”
at last. Perhaps as he failed to discover any more, the expedition
denuded the country of its whole stock.