CHAPTER XII

The valley of the River Atbara can now scarcely be regarded as

unfamiliar country. Those who wish to read a most lively, interesting

account of all the opportunities that it offers to the sportsman,

should turn to Sir Samuel Baker’s book, “The Nile Tributaries of

Abyssinia.” Our journey from Gallabat to Cairo by way of Kassala

can be quite briefly described.

In reply to our inquiry we received a telegram from Mr. Flemming, who

told us that a guide would meet our party at an appointed spot to show

us the now disused and obscured road, and on the morning of February

23 we left Gallabat. About four hours’ travelling over flat, rocky

country brought us, by an easy descent, to the Atbara. The banks

here are low, and the bed is hard and clean, with tracts of shingle

in it. The breadth of the course is about a hundred and fifty yards,

and there were large pools of clear, good water. Many of them were

deep. At this season of the year an insignificant stream trickles

from pool to pool, and sometimes disappears altogether. There are

big fish in these pools, and they need cautious handling. I took my

tackle after we had pitched our camp, landed a two-pounder, and was

“wool-gathering” a few moments afterwards when a powerful fish

seized my bait with a dash and had me off my balance in an instant;

result, a bruised knee and two hooks lost.

Next day Dupuis moved ahead of the party with his Soudanese

“Shikari,” and in a couple of hours stalked and shot a gazelle and

a bushbuck with a fine pair of horns; later in the day a haartebeest

fell to his rifle. We saw great numbers of gazelles and ariels,

and the country was full of game. The tracks left by many kinds of

animals going to and from the river were visible in all directions. In

addition, guinea-fowl were plentiful. The ground near the river was

covered with dry grass, and there was a thin but continuous growth

of mimosa scrub. The baobab tree flourishes in this region.[108]

We camped on the site of a village that had been laid waste by the

Dervishes. No vestige of it remained but potsherds.

When the flesh of the animals was being cut into strips for use as

biltong, a host of the carrion birds of all orders gathered around

us—crows, hawks, vultures, and marabous. There was something

disquieting and unpleasant in the presence of these groups of

eagerly expectant scavengers, which faced us wherever we turned,

and eyed us from every tree. That night the mosquitoes “rushed”

my curtains and made a most successful raid, retreating at sunrise

from the stricken—and bitten—field.

Shortly after we had started on February 25, I saw, at a little

distance from camp, a piece of neatly made basketwork, and picked

it up. Further on I found another. On making inquiry I was told

that these were parts of game-traps. A log is buried in the ground,

and a piece of cord with a noose at the loose end is attached to

it. Then a hole is dug where tracks of game are seen, the noose is

“set” in the hole, the basketwork is laid down to cover the trap,

and the cord is hidden by a layer of earth. When a beast steps into

the hole, the movement of the basketwork pulls the noose tight around

its leg. The more the beast struggles, the firmer the grip becomes;

finally, as a rule, the log is pulled up by its exertions, and the

hobbled creature limps away, but is easily caught, and can then be

killed as the Mohammedan rite requires.

[Illustration: HEAD OF A HAARTEBEEST.

_See p._ 184.]

[Illustration: ‘LATES NILOTICUS’ CAUGHT WITH A TROUT-ROD.

_See p._ 200.]

The track in this region is kept open by the cutting down of mimosa

scrub. It lies upon “cotton soil” with fissures in it, large

and small. The camels, which stare stupidly ahead while they walk,

are constantly stumbling on account of these holes; their legs seem

to have a marvellous instinct for finding them. Another difficulty

was the descent and ascent in numerous little khors which run down

to the river bed, and the camel is singularly clumsy when it leaves

level ground. We pitched our camp at midday on the site of another

deserted village, called Wad Abou Simam. Before that time each of

my friends had shot a waterbuck. Very sensibly, the Anglo-Egyptian

Administration imposes a fine on those who shoot the females of the

larger antelopes.

I think we must have seen hundreds of thousands of guinea-fowl

during the last two days’ journey. They were in the jungle of

mimosa scrub and neblik and on the shingle in the river bed, where

by reason of their colour they can scarcely be distinguished from

the stones; in fact, they swarmed in all directions. I took my gun

into the dry course of the Atbara and sat down near an islet which

was covered with very dry grass. This was a favourite place of

refuge for the guinea-fowl. Dupuis drove them to the bank, where

they rose, and flocks of them flew towards the little island. In

this way I had some fine practice, and the birds were always

useful in the larder. Travellers in this region should set up their

mosquito-curtains with care. I was remiss about it that night, and the

determined and virulent insects bit my scalp, face, and hands through

the covering. The next evening I was more attentive to the matter,

and formed a frame by means of four dhurra stalks. This arrangement,

with draping, had all the advantages and some of the solid dignity

of a four-post bedstead.

On the following day (February 26) we encamped at Sherafa. There was

no incident worthy of mention during the journey. In the afternoon

Dupuis and I saw a crocodile within range in the river bed, and fired

at the same moment. The only visible result was that he scuttled

into a pool and disappeared.

On the 27th Crawley brought down an ariel, but we had entered a

district in which game was much rarer. We reached a well at a place

called Tubra Cullah. This has been dug at the edge of a rock, the

water was brackish, and there was no trough for the camels. We had

now left the course of the Atbara, but had, fortunately, brought

with us water from the pools which was sufficient for the men. On

this day the temperature rose to 107° F. in the shade. The road,

which had at that time been cleared, ended at Tubra Cullah, and here

we were met by the guide whom Mr. Flemming had sent to show us the

unrepaired track between this place and Sofi.

[Illustration: HADENDOWA, CAMEL DRIVER.

_See p._ 186.]

[Illustration: DINKA BOY, CAMEL DRIVER.

_See p._ 186.]

On the following day we marched to Goratia. Our guide had

misinformed us as to the distance, which was much greater than we had

expected. The heat was scarcely endurable, and none of our marches

had been more fatiguing. How we longed for the coolness and freshness

of the lakeside! Close to the village was a well with good water and

troughs for the camels, which had not drunk for nearly forty-eight

hours. We found the inhabitants very willing to help our men. While

we were passing through Goratia the women within the huts warbled

their welcome in the usual manner and with unmistakable enthusiasm. We

learned that when our party was first sighted, a rumour spread that

we were Abyssinian raiders, and the non-combatants rushed to the

shelter of their homes. The relief of the villagers was evidently

very great when they found that we were English people.

The following instance may serve to show the difficulty which British

administrators have in suppressing the slave traffic.

A certain man, a native of the White Nile region, appeared one morning

before Colonel G. at Rosaires and said that while he was taking a

convoy of slaves into Abyssinia, he had been stopped by the sheikh

of a village in the Colonel’s district. This sheikh, he asserted,

took possession of the slaves, and bound him and his companion,

to whom they belonged. In order to keep what he had captured and

destroy those who could bring him to justice, the sheikh had the

two slave-dealers brought to a precipice and cast over it. Ono was

killed, the other escaped with whole limbs. Then he repaired to the

Governor’s quarters to report the matter.

Colonel G. ordered the sheikh to attend and bring the slaves that

he had taken. The sheikh, astounded to hear that the Moudir[109]

had learned what he had done, attributed his misfortune to the Will

of God with the usual phrase “Inshallah,”[110] and started for

the Moudirieh accompanied by the slaves. On the way he consoled

himself with the words, “God will help me” (_Rabonna effrighi_).

While he was upon the journey he met two native merchants returning to

their village, and immediately he concluded that Allah had heard his

prayer. “Um del Allah!” said he, “God is good.” He caused the

merchants to be bound, and then he had the slaves brought before him,

and made them all swear upon the Koran that these two men were they

who had raided the village and carried the people away captive. And

the merchants were forced to follow him with the slaves.

When the sheikh arrived at the Moudirieh, the Governor ordered him to

deliver up the men in whose possession he had found the slaves—and

the sheikh forthwith had the two merchants led forward. Colonel

G. was in a dilemma. Evidently the raider who had complained to

him was telling the truth, but all the slaves swore that they knew

nothing of the man. Questioning was of no avail, and did not shake

their evidence. Then the Moudir, turning suddenly to a little girl,

asked her, “Who told you to say that these two accused men raided

your village and took you away?” The little girl instantly pointed

to the sheikh and answered, “Please, sir, that man.”

This decided the matter. Some time after, the body of the

slave-dealer’s companion was found. I did not hear what befell the

sheikh, but the Moudir was not a man to be trifled with, and I have

no doubt that justice was done.

The sheikh of Goratia came into camp to greet us, and afterwards

sent us hot coffee, which was excellent. It is the most refreshing

drink of all after a tiring journey in the baking sunshine.

In this village we found a man who declared that he could act as

guide to the junction of the Atbara and the River Salaam, a point

which is of interest in connection with the all-important problem

of water-storage and distribution. It has not been sketched or

mapped—indeed, I believe that no European has yet succeeded in

reaching it, though the British officers in the Soudan have been

eager to discover the spot. My two companions arranged to start on the

following morning and endeavour to make a rough survey of the place.

At Goratia I obtained a photograph which shows clearly the amulet worn

by almost all the Soudanese. The youth who wore it had been married

about a week, and the scars on his back illustrate a singular custom

among the people. Sir Samuel Baker has described it.

“There is but little lovemaking among the Arabs. The affair of

matrimony usually commences by a present to the father of the girl,

which, if accepted, is followed by a similar advance to the girl

herself, and the arrangement is completed. All the friends of both

parties are called together for the wedding; pistols and guns are

fired off, if possessed. There is much feasting, and the unfortunate

bridegroom undergoes the ordeal of whipping by the relations of his

bride, in order to test his courage. Sometimes this punishment is

exceedingly severe, being inflicted with the coorbash or whip of

hippopotamus hide, which is cracked vigorously about his ribs and

back. If the happy husband wishes to be considered a man worth having,

he must receive the chastisement with an expression of enjoyment;

in which case the crowds of women in admiration again raise their

thrilling cry. After the rejoicings of the day are over, the bride is

led in the evening to the residence of her husband, while a beating of

drums and strumming of guitars (rhababas) are kept up for some hours

during the night, with the usual discordant idea of singing.”[111]

It is interesting to compare Mansfield Parkyns’s description of

the mode of duelling in Dongola.

“This duel is not a serious matter, but is engaged in by young

men on the slightest possible pretext, often merely to display their

manhood. An angareeb, under which a jar of beer is usually set (for

refreshment between the rounds), is placed between the combatants,

each of whom is stripped to the waist, and armed with one of the

formidable whips I have described” (coorbash). “As soon as all

is ready they begin, giving alternate stripes on each other’s

shoulders, but neither being allowed to evade or ward off a blow;

they continue this agreeable pastime for a very long time, till

one falls down exhausted from loss of blood and the punishment he

has received.”[112]

I spent a lazy day on March 1, watching the peaceful, patriarchal

life of the village, and especially the flocks and herds when they

came to the well to drink. Men, women, and boys all helped to fill

the cattle-troughs, which are made of baked mud. The surroundings

described in the book of Genesis seemed to have been preserved here

without change of any kind.

My friends did not return on March 2, as they had expected. I took

my rifle and a guide and tried to bring home an ariel, but could

not approach within three hundred yards of the game. At about that

distance one was hit, but got away. On the 3rd the guide and I went

in another direction. Creeping carefully up against the wind, I

aimed at a buck at three hundred yards’ distance. He fell forward,

burying his horns in the ground, when I fired, but was up again,

and ran in a circle and then fell once more. I rushed forward to

give him the _coup-de-grace_, but he bolted over the brow of a hill

at the top of his speed, and we lost sight of him. I wandered about

seeking for his tracks, but could not find them in that tumbled

country. Later I saw three more ariels, which ran into some dry

grass. We made a circuit, and presently came within sight of them

again. They were evidently on the alert. Under cover of a tree,

I took a steady aim and hit a buck, who limped away and lay down,

but presently rose at eighty yards distance as we advanced, and I

then killed him by a shot through the heart. We covered the body

with branches to protect it from vultures, and carried the head into

camp. I kept the skin and the head, but gave the flesh to my guide,

who was much delighted. He went out on a donkey and cut the beast up,

and distributed presents of meat among his friends.

[Illustration: SOUDANESE WITH AMULETS.

_See p._ 189.]

[Illustration: AT THE WELL, GORATIA.

_See p._ 190]

My companions returned half an hour after midday. They had had

difficulty in finding the course of the Atbara, and their camels

had been on the march eight hours when they reached it at a gorge

in coarse sandstone rock, where the river forces its way through

a narrow cleft about twenty metres wide, between cliffs rising

vertically from a profoundly deep pool. There they determined to

encamp and spend the next day in attempting to find the junction

of the rivers. To the great disappointment of all, they failed to

achieve their purpose. The country in which they were is extremely

wild. A lion had killed one of their camels in broad daylight. The

boy who was in charge of the beasts while they browsed saw the lion

creep from the thick undergrowth, spring upon the camel and crush its

skull with one blow of the paw. He screamed, and the lion walked off

into the scrub in which it had been concealed. The other camels were

terrified, and would certainly have bolted in a panic if they had

not been hobbled. At night my friends heard hyenas running within

a dozen yards of their beds.

They had been much interested in watching the huge flocks of small

birds of the linnet kind which assembled half an hour before sunset

and went to drink together in the pools of the Atbara. They come with

an undulating flight, and, small as they are, the rushing of the wind

as they beat the air makes a noise like thunder, and their numbers

darken the sky. The weight of the throngs of them which alight at

a time bends down the ends of the overhanging branches and twigs to

the level of the water. I had seen these flocks many times, and the

cunning trick which the crocodile uses in preying upon them. This

was a point of Soudanese natural history which did not escape the

observation of Sir Samuel Baker.

“Few creatures are so sly and wary as the crocodile. I watch them

continually as they attack the dense flocks of small birds that throng

the bushes at the water’s edge. These birds are perfectly aware of

the danger, and they fly from the attack if possible. The crocodile

then quietly and innocently lies upon the surface, as though it

had appeared quite by an accident; it thus attracts the attention

of the birds, and it slowly sails away to a considerable distance,

exposed to their view. The birds, thus beguiled by the deceiver,

believe that the danger is removed, and they again flock to the bush,

and once more dip their thirsty beaks into the stream. Thus absorbed

in slaking their thirst, they do not observe that their enemy is no

longer on the surface. A sudden splash, followed by a huge pair of

jaws beneath the bush that engulfs some dozens of victims, is the

signal unexpectedly given of the crocodile’s return, who has thus

slily dived, and hastened under cover of water to his victims. I

have seen the crocodiles repeat this manœuvre constantly, they

deceive by a feigned retreat, and then attack from below.”[113]

These birds fall a prey not only to crocodiles but to large fish—of

what species I am not sure—which rise at them as other kinds rise

at flies and snap them off the twigs. Besides, kites scout about

the outskirts of the flocks as they fly and pick up the stragglers.

In this part of the country we saw baobab trees only on the banks of

the river. Elsewhere, the trees are all mimosas and the undergrowth

of the same order.

On the 4th we marched over a dead level of cotton soil to an abandoned

village. We had to carry drinking-water, for the well at this place

had been filled up by the Dervishes. I have very little doubt that

this region is full of malaria in the wet season. Our camp was at

the foot of a rocky hill, on which we found abundance of guinea-fowl

when we took out our guns late in the afternoon. On the following day

we saw herd after herd of ariel as we marched. They were extremely

tame, and we passed within ten yards of some of them. The track

which we followed brought us to the Atbara again, at the hamlet of

Aradeeb. This village was poverty-stricken and almost in a state of

famine. The aphis[114] had blighted the entire dhurra crop of the

inhabitants. I could not discover how the people lived, but they

seemed to bear their trouble uncomplainingly, and here as elsewhere

appeared to be sincerely thankful for the peace and safety which the

Anglo-Egyptian rule secures to them. In every village to which we

came we heard the same remark—“Miri quies,” “the Government

is good.” I believe that this expression of opinion is perfectly

sincere. If so, it is one of the greatest of the many great triumphs

of British administration.

The course of the Atbara is much narrower here than at the point

where we had left it, and the pools are deeper. They are not

connected by a current in the dry season. I judged that the stream

would be from twenty-five to thirty feet deep when the floods are at

their height. The river runs, with a shingly bed, through a curious

formation of coarse, gritty sandstone, which forms fine cliffs and

numerous rocky bars and barriers. The sandstone stratum extends to

about two-thirds of the height of the ravines, and the upper third

consists of the usual black-cotton soil.

When the heat of the day was over I caught a couple of fish of

about three pounds and four pounds weight. They showed some sport

and made very good eating. In the evening we should have rested in

perfect contentment, after enjoying the luxury of a bath, if insects

of various sorts had not swarmed upon us incessantly, crawling and

biting. Dupuis gave the sheikh of the village two sheep which we

had brought from Zegi. They suffered severely from the heat, and

it seemed cruel to drive them further. Besides, we were glad to add

something to the store of the villagers in their time of scarcity.

On March 6 we quitted Aradeeb. The old sheikh came to our camp to

see us start, and brought us hot coffee in which we ceremonially

drank “peace to the village.” Throughout our journey on this

day we followed the course of the river, constantly crossing gorges

and khors. We reached Sofi at midday. This is the large village near

which Sir Samuel Baker dwelt for five months in 1861. He has given

a very full and most interesting account of the surrounding district

in “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia.” There are rest-huts built

of straw at Sofi, and we were glad to take refuge in them, though the

temperature within when we arrived was 107° F. However, we were able

to remove our helmets, and this we could not do in our tents in the

daytime as the sun penetrated the canvas. At night the temperature was

98° F., and a hot wind was blowing strongly. Towards evening I had

taken my rod to a pool in the river, but this unpleasant breeze had

by that time ruffled the surface smartly, and I got no sport. I think

the fish lie quietly in shelter during these storms and do not feed.

Next morning we left Sofi, passed through the village of Tomat,

and about midday pitched our camp five miles beyond this place

opposite to the “mugra,” that is the junction of the Settite

and Atbara rivers. The two streams at the point of meeting have a

course about a quarter of a mile broad. The bed of the Atbara is

flat and there is much shingle in it. The sandstone formation has

come to an end, and the rocks which crop up here and there are of a

granitic character. Very little water was flowing in either river,

but a larger stream trickled in the Settite than in the other. We

did not stir far from camp in the afternoon, but shot sand-grouse

as they came to drink in the pools.

During the day we saw tracks of lions, hyenas, and monkeys—grivets

and baboons. The soil and the vegetation by the river were such as

we had seen on the previous marches. A lion came into the camp during

the night. We were sleeping in the open and heard him sniffing round

our beds. I sang out to Dupuis, and asked him what was making the

noise. He struck a light, and the beast skulked off into the bush. My

two friends snatched up their rifles and hurried off to see if he

meant to attack the camels. That, no doubt, had been his errand,

for he left us alone, though I saw his tracks within a yard of my bed

next morning. The camels, as usual, were gathered in circles near the

men’s fires. They were hobbled, and I heard them stamping quickly

on the ground in their fright, making a strange pattering noise. I

believe they only show fear in this way when they smell a lion.

The next day we marched to Khor Katout, a big ravine in the plain

of the Atbara, which extends to the river. A hot wind had again

arisen, and was carrying quantities of dust with it. The journey was

exceedingly unpleasant, and coolness was nowhere to be found. Khor

Katout is a well-known haunt of lions, and we heard them roaring in

the night. On March 10 we arrived at the point where the road from

Gedaref to Kassala joins that on which we were travelling. Here

there is a “nocter”—a military post, where five soldiers

are stationed. At this place we found a rest-hut, in which we took

shelter till three in the afternoon, and then marched on till six,

covering about nine miles in the three hours. Since we had left the

course of the Atbara we had been obliged to send to the river for

water. It was brought in the “fantassis.”[115] This necessity

delayed us, and added to the petty troubles of the journey, but we

expected to reach the river bed again on the next day. That night

my sleeping-place in the open was within three or four yards of the

track, and the moon was very bright. It was a most characteristic

Eastern sight, when, about nine o’clock, some thirty camels passed

along the route at the foot of my bed, slowly and silently. They

carried no loads, and were probably returning from Kassala to Gedaref.

On the following day, as we marched, we saw spoor of lions and

leopards among the mingled traces of hyenas, jackals, and many

antelopes. We camped for the night at a very lonely spot on the Atbara

which is called Khashim el Girba.[116] Here the river emerges from

a narrow, deep, rocky gorge where the width of its course in places

does not exceed one hundred and twenty feet. The steep sides have

been smoothed by the terrific rush of water in the rainy season. One

of the pools in the bed of this cataract is very large, and uniformly

deep. I noticed that earth had lodged behind rocks which jutted from

the sides of the gorge, and a growth of mimosa scrub had established

itself even in the shallow soil on these ledges. There is no village

at Khashim el Girba, but it is a recognized camping-ground. Beyond

the narrows the Atbara broadens to a width of half a mile, and its

course is divided by an island. Here, at the time of our visit, one

could wade across the river bed through a stream which reached the

ankles. The scene must be one of singular beauty and grandeur when

the floods are coming down from Abyssinia. We heard a lion roaring at

night, and there are numbers around this place, but they had plenty

of game to prey upon and did not approach the camp.

On the morning of March 12 the Berthon boat was put together, and my

companions took her, with some surveying gear, to the great pool in

the gorge. I followed and carried my angling-tackle. We rowed about

half a mile up the course of the river upon this stretch of water,

and then came to the narrowest part of the bed of the rapids. Here a

very large rock that has an accessible side juts out into the pool,

in a most convenient position for survey work, and my companions began

to take measurements, walking up a gravelly incline which seemed to

have been placed there for the purpose. Their object was to mark out a

gauge which would show the rise and fall of the river during the flood

season in this gorge, where, of course, the movement is very clearly

seen. My friends made the necessary marks in chalk at the time, and

these were afterwards chiselled in the rock by a mason, who was sent

down for the purpose. The gauge has since been connected by electric

wire with Cairo, and since then in flood time the variations in the

depth of the Atbara have been telegraphed every other day to the

Irrigation Department in the capital. This has proved to be a very

satisfactory arrangement. If an exceptionally heavy flood occurs,

the news is sent to Cairo immediately; warnings are then dispatched

up and down the Nile so that all concerned may be prepared for the

consequent rise of the river, which will take place, say, in six

weeks’ time. The Irrigation Department and the landowners look

to their culverts and strengthen weak parts of the banks, and all

is in readiness when the flood comes. Formerly it was the custom to

patrol the riverside night and day when an unusual rush of water was

expected, but the risk of disaster in Lower Egypt from this cause

has been almost ended by the operation of the dam at Assuan and the

precautions now taken.

I tried my luck in the pool, where I saw many huge fish, but they did

not bite, though a number smelled at the spoon bait and some struck at

it with their tails. I made attempts with other attractions, but the

copper spoon appeared to allure them most. Then I cast the line into

several pools in vain, but presently, in the shallower part of the

big one, hooked a fish of about four pounds’ weight, which fought

hard, lashing the water, and plunging and keeping the reel busy. It

took me half an hour to play him into a shallow, and in the meanwhile

many big fish came up to see what was making the disturbance.

I went back to the deeper part of the pool, and as soon as I had made

a cast, hooked one, whose first tug showed that he was a prize worth

landing. I feared that I should lose him, as my tackle was hardly

strong enough for a heavy catch, so I made up my mind to play him

very gently and tire him out, if possible. Away he went and round spun

the wheel. He hid under a ledge of rock, and I wound it gently. This

started him again, and now he showed sport without a break for twenty

minutes. After that, to my surprise, I brought him up quite close to

a shallow, and then I saw that I had hooked a real monster and had a

good chance of landing him. But it would be useless to try to get him

ashore without help, and I shouted and shouted again; for all the time

he was making dashes and stopping in exhaustion, and I was playing

him in nearer to the shallow. At last one of our boys came to aid me,

and I saw that he was eager to help—but the first thing that he

did was to rush into the water and grab my line! I yelled to him to

leave it alone and strove to explain what he was to do. The next time

my prize came into the shallow his strength had nearly failed him,

for he rolled over and showed his white belly. It was a moment of

excitement when the black fellow slipped into the water and tried

to catch hold of _the fish’s tail_. I did nearly lose him then,

but he was almost spent; and after a great deal of shouting I made

the boy understand at last that he was to put his thumbs into the

fish’s gills on each side. At first he thought I wanted him to put

his fingers into its mouth, and was afraid. It took two men to lift

my fish on to dry ground, and I could hardly believe that the tackle

had held him; I was using a small trout-rod. From snout to tail he

measured forty-five inches, and he had a girth of thirty inches. We

judged his weight to be between fifty and sixty pounds. This species

(_lates niloticus_) is called by the natives “el baggar” (the

cow). It has been described by Sir S. Baker, who also published in

“The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia” a drawing of a fine specimen

which he caught in the Atbara. My photograph shows that the fish which

I landed does not altogether correspond to his description. It may

be that the Soudanese name covers more than one species, or there

may be considerable variation among members of the same species,

but I am inclined to think that the illustration in Sir S. Baker’s

book was prepared from an imperfect sketch.

During the morning we saw a troop of baboons. For a time they watched

us. It was interesting to note their method of scouting. Here and

there one would climb a tree, scan the surroundings sharply, and then

descend quietly and join the main body. A few minutes later another

would renew the observation from another tree. In this manner they

keep a constant look-out. Mansfield Parkyns studied the habits of

these creatures in Abyssinia and has given a most interesting account

of them.

“The monkeys, especially the Cynocephali, who are astonishingly

clever fellows, have their chiefs, whom they obey implicitly,

and a regular system of tactics in war, pillaging expeditions,

robbing cornfields, etc. These monkey forays are managed with the

utmost regularity and precaution. A tribe, coming down to feed

from their village on the mountain (usually a cleft in the face

of some cliff), brings with it all its members, male and female,

old and young. Some, the elders of the tribe, distinguishable by

the quantity of mane which covers their shoulders, like a lion’s,

take the lead, peering cautiously over each precipice before they

descend, and climbing to the top of every rock or stone which may

afford them a better view of the road before them. Others have their

posts as scouts on the flanks or rear; and all fulfil their duties

with the utmost vigilance, calling out at times, apparently to keep

order among the motley pack which forms the main body, or to give

notice of the approach of any real or imagined danger. Their tones

of voice on these occasions are so distinctly varied that a person

much accustomed to watch their movements will at length fancy—and

perhaps with some truth—that he can understand their signals.

“The main body is composed of females, inexperienced males, and

the young people of the tribe. Those of the females who have small

children carry them on their back. Unlike the dignified march of the

leaders, the rabble go along in a most disorderly manner, trotting on

and chattering, without taking the least heed of anything, apparently

confiding in the vigilance of their scouts. Here a few of the youth

linger behind to pick the berries off some tree, but not long, for

the rearguard coming up forces them to regain their places. There

a matron pauses for a moment to suckle her offspring, and, not to

lose time, dresses its hair while it is taking its meal. Another

young lady, probably excited by jealousy or by some sneering look

or word, pulls an ugly mouth at her neighbour, and then, uttering a

shrill squeal highly expressive of rage, vindictively snatches at

her rival’s leg with her hand, and gives her perhaps a bite in

the hind-quarters. This provokes a retort, and a most unladylike

quarrel ensues, till a loud bark of command from one of the chiefs

calls them to order. A single cry of alarm makes them all halt and

remain on the _qui vive_, till another bark in a different tone

reassures them, and they then proceed on their march.

“Arrived at the cornfields, the scouts take their position on

the eminences all round, while the remainder of the tribe collect

provision with the utmost expedition, filling their cheek-pouches as

full as they can hold, and then tucking the heads of corn under their

armpits. Now, unless there be a partition of the collected spoil,

how do the scouts feed? for I have watched them several times, and

never observed them to quit for a moment their post of duty till it

was time for the tribe to return, or till some indication of danger

induced them to take flight. They show also the same sagacity in

searching for water, discovering at once the places where it is most

readily found in the sand, and then digging for it with their hands,

just as men would, relieving one another in the work if the quantity

of sand to be removed be considerable.”[117]

In the afternoon Crawley shot a wild pig. I walked to the river again,

being charmed by the lovely scenery, and as I approached saw numbers

of crocodiles scuttle into the water. None was of great size. I doubt

if any region in the world affords more varied sport than the valley

of the Atbara. The climate is perfectly healthy in the dry season.

On March 13 we struck our camp in the afternoon and soon met the

first European whom we had encountered since we left Gallabat. He was

a British officer on the way from Kassala to Gedaref, and he made

mention of the slave-raids which had taken place since we left the

latter place. It seemed likely that the Arab Battalion would be kept

busy in holding the marauders in check. In the course of our march we

crossed the Atbara, at a point where it is about four hundred yards

in breadth. Water that reached our ankles was trickling among the

shingle in places. At sundown we arrived at a camping-ground called

Fashur, and halted for the night. Our dinner was “bully beef”

and pickles—neither a luxurious nor a prudent meal. We were now

suffering from heat eczema, which is most irritating in the cool of

the night. The baying of a hyena kept me awake for hours, and a bed

in the Soudan is not a pleasant place for one who lies on it with

an itching skin and listens to that dismal noise.

Our camp at Fashur was very hot and dusty. In the afternoon of the

next day we started for a march of twenty-two miles, which would take

us half the way from the Atbara to Kassala. We turned our backs to the

river and crossed a plain covered by dried grass and mimosa scrub,

which is probably a swamp during the rainy season. Our tents were

pitched on the open, level ground after an exhausting journey, at the

halting-place ordinarily used by those who follow this track. There

were no habitations, and we saw none on the road. During the night

a detachment of the Arab Battalion passed our encampment, on its

way to protect villages against slave-raiders.

On March 15 we arrived at the River Gash just outside Kassala. Its

course here lies in a flat, sandy bed, which was quite dry. During

the journey—eighteen and a half miles—we saw eight ostriches. The

Gash, beyond Kassala, splits into numerous small streams which,

even in the rainy season, sink into the ground and disappear

completely. Sir Samuel Baker has given an account of the river at

that time of the year, which shows its importance in relation to

produce and water-supply in the district.

“As we approached within about twenty-five miles of Kassala, I

remarked that the country on our left was in many places flooded;

the Arabs, who had hitherto been encamped in this neighbourhood

during the dry season were migrating to other localities in the

neighbourhood of Soojalup and Gozerajup with their vast herds of

camels and goats. As rain had not fallen in sufficient quantity to

account for the flood, I was informed that it was due to the river

Gash, or Mareb, which, flowing from Abyssinia, passed beneath the

walls of Kassala, and then divided into innumerable ramifications;

it was eventually lost, and disappeared in the porous soil, after

having flooded a large extent of country. This cause accounted for

the never-failing wells at Soojalup—doubtless a substratum of clay

prevented the total escape of the water, which remained at a depth

of forty feet from the surface. The large tract of country thus

annually flooded by the river Gash is rendered extremely fruitful,

and is the resort of both the Hadendowa and the Hallonga Arabs

during the dry season, who cultivate large quantities of dhurra and

other grain. Unfortunately, in these climates, fertility of soil is

generally combined with unhealthiness, and the commencement of the

rainy season is the signal for fevers and other maladies.”[118]

[Illustration: KASSALA HILL AND MARKET-PLACE.

_See p._ 205.]

We were now close to the curious and isolated eminence called

Kassala Hill, which stands within the border-line of the colony of

Eritrea. We had seen this towering landmark when we were more than

forty miles distant from it, and a whole day’s travelling had seemed

to bring us no nearer to it. It offers a splendid sight in the desert,

when the setting sun shines on the bare pile of red granite. I was

told that in the days when the Italians occupied Kassala, Alpine

climbers, with elaborate paraphernalia, had attempted the ascent,

but failed in all cases to reach the summit. There is a superstition

among the natives that any one who tries to scale the heights will

die shortly afterwards, and this belief has been confirmed among

them by the death of Colonel Collinson, a former Moudir of the town,

who made the last endeavour of which I heard, and succumbed to fever

six months afterwards.

We rose early next morning (March 16) and visited the British officers

at the Moudirieh. Needless to say we were in touch with a civilized

_cuisine_ again, and nothing teaches a man to appreciate a good

lunch in a cool room like a journey in the desert. In the afternoon I

visited the hospital, which was in charge of Dr. Ensor. It is a most

instructive place to a medical man; for here patients are gathered

together from all parts of the Eastern Soudan. And it affords a

proof of the benefits of Anglo-Egyptian administration that is

beyond cavil. I saw cases of many interesting tropical diseases,

about which the doctor and I had a long talk in the evening. We dined

at the mess of the 11th Battalion of the Egyptian army—once more

among our fellow-countrymen.

On the next day we visited Cristo’s, the Whiteley’s of Kassala,

and made purchases for the remainder of the journey. At sundown

I watched the 11th at tattoo. This regiment had a good band,

composed of Soudanese blacks, and it gave one a lively pleasure to

hear European music again, though I must admit that they played the

Old Hundredth arranged as a march! In the evening the Governor had

a dinner-party in honour of St. Patrick’s-day, and a number of

officers were present. The place might have been an Indian station

instead of Kassala.

On March 18 my companions left the camp very early, accompanied

by another English soldier who was visiting the town, to make an

inspection of the bed of the Gash above Kassala. In the evening they

rode out in the opposite direction to see the end of its course

in the tract in which it is absorbed. Possibly the subterranean

waters, free from evaporation, will afford an invaluable reservoir

for irrigation and the maintenance of stock in the future.

[Illustration: THE MOUDIRIEH AT KASSALA.

_See p._ 205.]

[Illustration: TENTS PITCHED IN THE ENCLOSURE OF THE MOUDIRIEH

AT KASSALA.

_See p._ 205.]

The Governor of Kassala had a small black servant, about thirteen

years of age, called Fadl Mullah (Courtesy of the Prophet). The lad

had been picked up in a deserted Dervish trench during the battle of

the Atbara, where he was found tied to a dead camel and covered with

blood. The Governor told us that he was “as sharp as a needle”

and most zealous in service, never sleeping in the afternoon, and

always running when he was sent upon an errand. He only gave trouble

in one way, and this was that once in every two months or so he would

come to the Moudir and declare that he had found his father. When the

putative parent had disclaimed the bond, and the Governor had said

that he would hear no more about it, the boy would acquiesce. But

he was sure to discover another “father” a few weeks later.

While we were at Kassala an Italian officer arrived in the town from

Eritrea. No one had received notice of his coming, and no one seemed

to know what his business was. I sat next to him one night at dinner,

and he told me that he was a lieutenant in the Mountain Artillery, and

was using his leave to make a journey to the junction of the Atbara

and Settite Rivers. He would return thence direct to his battery.

On the 20th we struck our camp and left Kassala in the afternoon,

turning our faces towards the Atbara again. We had the pleasure of the

company of the Governor and another English officer during the next

two days’ journeys, which were hot, tiring, and uneventful. We bade

farewell to our friends on the afternoon of the 22nd. On the following

day we marched in the direction of the Goz Regeb hill. This singular

rise of ground in the desert appeared and disappeared as we moved down

imperceptible slopes and then ascended again. We saw the mirage all

around us. The soil in this region was shingly. At Goz Regeb there

was a two-roomed rest-house. It was of baked mud, and was the most

solid building that we had seen since we left Khartoum. We had been

told at Kassala that it belonged to the Slavery Department, and that

we might make use of it as it was then unoccupied. That night there

was a high wind, and among its _ludibria_, was Crawley’s sponge,

which, oddly enough, was found next day in the Atbara about half a

mile from our halting-place.

On March 24 Dupuis climbed Goz Regeb Hill and took photographs of the

curious balanced granite blocks which stand upon it. At a distance

many of them look like figures of men, and at a nearer range like

worn statues. But it is certain that they have not been placed in

their position by human agency. I am unable to offer any conjecture

as to their origin or geological relation to their surroundings.

An incursion of great numbers of Arabs from the south, with their

flocks and herds, into the region around Goz Regeb takes place

regularly at the commencement of the rainy season. They are then

compelled to come to this district to avoid the seroot fly[119]—the

tsetse of the Soudan—which is fatal to all live stock except

goats. Obviously, this necessary migration is an important fact both

in relation to politics and campaigning in the Soudan. Sir S. Baker

came in contact with the movement northward.

[Illustration: GOZ REGEB GRANITE STONE, MIMOSA SCRUB IN THE DISTANCE.

_See p._ 208.

_From a Photograph by Mr. C. E. Dupuis._]

[Illustration: GOZ REGEB STONES.

_See p._ 208.

_From a Photograph by Mr. C. E. Dupuis._]

“The commencement of the rainy season was a warning to all the Arabs

of this country, who were preparing for their annual migration to the

sandy and firm desert on the west bank of the river, at Gozerajup;

that region, so barren and desolate during the hot season, would

shortly be covered with a delicate grass about eighteen inches

high. At that favoured spot the rains fell with less violence, and

it formed a nucleus for the general gathering of the people with

their flocks.

“The burning sun, that for nine months had scorched the earth,

was veiled by passing clouds; the cattle that had panted for water,

and whose food was withered straw, were filled with juicy fodder;

the camels that had subsisted upon the dried and leafless twigs and

branches, now feasted upon the succulent tops of the mimosas. Throngs

of women and children mounted upon camels, protected by the peculiar

gaudy saddle hood, ornamented with cowrie shells, accompanied the

march: thousands of sheep and goats, driven by Arab boys, were

straggling in all directions; baggage-camels, heavily laden with

the quaint household gods, blocked up the way; and fine bronzed

figures of Arabs, with sword and shield, and white topes or plaids,

guided their milk-white dromedaries through the confused throng with

the usual placid dignity of their race, simply passing by with the

usual greeting, ‘_Salaam Aleikum_’ (Peace be with you).

“It was the Exodus; all were hurrying towards the promised

land—the ‘land flowing with milk and honey,’ where men and

beasts would be secure not only from the fevers of the south,

but from that deadly enemy to camels and cattle, _the fly_; this

terrible insect drove all before it.”[120]

During the wet season the Mouderir (Government) of Kassala is

transferred to new buildings which have recently been erected for its

reception at the village of Goz Regeb, and there is a general movement

of the Europeans and the wealthier native inhabitants of the town to

the same place. The exercise of jurisdiction and the collection of

revenue in this region are made difficult by the annual migration of

which Sir Samuel Baker wrote. Great numbers of people from different

parts of the country collect now, as in former days, within one

district in a very short space of time, the comminglement of flocks

and herds adds to the confusion, and it is no simple administrative

task to deal with a shifting population of this magnitude. If the

seroot fly were exterminated, as certain species of noxious African

mosquitoes have been, this yearly exodus would no longer take place.

On March 25, we camped beside the river at a pleasant place well

shaded by trees. I took my rod to a pool and landed a couple of fish,

one about six pounds and the other twelve pounds in weight. They

were of the same species as my fifty-pound prize, and both showed

fight. They came into shallow water after plenty of coaxing, and

I got them ashore without aid. My experience that evening shows

that a diary is kept with difficulty in the Soudan. I sat on my bed

to write the notes of the day, and held a candle aloft in my left

hand to keep it out of reach of the draughts which blew the flame

in all directions if I lowered it. With the right hand I used my

pencil, and kept clearing away the insects that flew upon my face

and swarmed about the light. They seemed to exercise no choice, but

flew indifferently into one’s mouth or eyes or into the flame, and

they were nastiest when moribund, but still active, after resolutely

passing through the fire.

[Illustration: ROCKS AT GOZ REGEB.

_See p._ 208.

_From a Photograph by Mr. C. E. Dupuis._]

[Illustration: ROCKS ON GOZ REGEB HILL.

_See p._ 208.

_From a Photograph by Mr. C. E. Dupuis._]

On the 26th we halted, after marching from five in the morning

till eleven, at a spot a few miles distant from the river, where

there are three rest-houses—one for the chiefs of the party

which is travelling, one for the servants, and one to serve as

kitchen. Gazelles were plentiful in this district, but we were

unable to use our rifles on account of the throng of Arabs, cattle,

and sheep in the neighbourhood. It was interesting to watch the

manner in which the goats feed at this season. They are tended

by half-naked Soudanese boys who carry long crooked staves. With

these they pull down the branches of the mimosas, and the goats

browse the leaves and twigs. They also stand upon their hind legs,

resting their forelegs upon boughs, and so reach the foliage,

keeping the branches down with their hoofs, while they eat the

succulent new shoots. When they are seen from a distance in this

attitude they exactly resemble people. In this region the villages

are very small—mere hamlets consisting of a few huts, and very

little ground is under cultivation. The land is used for pasture

throughout the district, and is apparently common to all comers.

On March 27, we travelled about thirteen miles and halted at a

rest-house. We had reached a zone of lower temperature—the maximum

at midday was 89°—and the journeys were no longer unpleasant. The

riverside scenery is interesting and beautiful in the lower as well

as in the higher reaches, and the dome-palms become more numerous as

one advances northward and add to the charm of the banks. There was no

other vegetation when we saw the country except low-grown mimosas and

mimosa-scrub. Sand stretches away on either side from the course of

the river, and we crossed few khors after leaving Goz Regeb, for the

rainfall in this region is absorbed in the soil and is insufficient

to produce torrents which would scour a course towards the stream.

In the afternoon I took my fishing-tackle and tried my fortune in

a pool from which I landed two fish, one of about fifteen pounds

and one of about five pounds, and a crocodile tried his luck upon

the bank and nearly caught a man. Before I set out with my rod

I had been warned by the sheikh of the village near which we had

encamped that the beasts were very dangerous in this part of the

Atbara, and I kept a good look-out for signs of them. It happened,

however, that just as I had made a cast, Dupuis, who had been out

with his rifle, passed behind me and sang out, “Have you caught

anything?” I stepped back briskly, as good luck would have it,

and answered, “Have _you_ shot anything?” and at the instant

the crocodile lashed at my legs with its tail to strike me into the

water. It had been awaiting its chance to take me off my guard, and

I had had no inkling of danger. I judged the length of the reptile

to be about twelve feet. It certainly had a sound sporting plan and

made a smart dash; for it only missed me by a few inches. The tails

of these creatures are very powerful, and if the one that had been

stalking me had judged distance a little better, I should certainly

have been knocked into the pool.

A little later I heard in Cairo that a week after my adventure, a

woman, who was filling a water-sack close to the place where I had

stood, turned round to answer some men who were exchanging chaff with

her; as she did so, a crocodile struck her on the hip with its tail,

lashed her some distance into the water, and immediately dragged her

under. I was told that they use the tail-trick only with human beings

and always seize beasts by the snout. But this account does not quite

agree with the observations of Sir S. Baker, who made a very careful

study of the habits of the crocodiles in the rivers of the Soudan.

[Illustration: A MIRAGE, SHOWING GOZ REGEB HILL IN THE DISTANCE,

ALSO NUMEROUS GAME TRACKS.

_See p._ 208.]

“The crocodile perceives, while it is floating on the surface in mid

stream, or from the opposite side of the river, a woman filling her

girba,[121] or an animal drinking, etc. Sinking immediately, it swims

perhaps a hundred yards nearer, and again appearing for an instant

upon the surface, it assures itself of the position of its prey by a

stealthy look; once more it sinks, and reaches the exact spot above

which the person or animal may be. Seeing distinctly through the

water, it generally makes its fatal rush from beneath—sometimes

seizing with its jaws, and at other times striking the object into

the water with its tail, after which it is seized and carried off.

“The crocodile does not attempt to swallow a large prey at once,

but generally carries it away, and keeps it for a considerable time

in its jaws in some deep hole beneath a rock, or the root of a tree,

where it eats it at leisure.”[122]

The fish which I had caught were of the same species as those

which I had previously landed, and proved very good at table in the

evening. It was our custom to dress for dinner—in pyjamas.

On March 28 our journey lay through the desert, and reminded us of

our first marches towards Gedaref. The river banks with their dome

palms were the only landmark. Elsewhere nothing was to be seen but

sand, with patches of thinly-growing, very coarse grass or low mimosa

scrub here and there, and mirage all around us.

Next day we travelled twenty-one miles to Adarama. On the way we

passed at a distance a great zareba prepared by Osman Digna. This

was protected by double walls, each about twelve feet high. There

is an interval of some three feet between the two. They enclose a

square space of sandy ground, and the sides have a length of about

three hundred yards. The Dervish leader intended to occupy it after

the battle of the Atbara. The defences are now slowly falling to

pieces; for the walls are made of sun-dried mud, and as this becomes

weatherworn and crumbles the wind carries it away, leaving gaps in the

ramparts. The sight symbolizes much. Adarama was formerly one of the

large towns of the Soudan, but now consists of a few mud huts. There

is also a small garrison of about twenty soldiers. The place lies

halfway between Gozerajup and Berber, and has a pleasant rest-house

among the palm-trees close to the river. The bed of the Atbara is

sandy here, and the average breadth is about four hundred yards.

On March 30 we reached Gumaza. I had the luck to bring down a fine

buck gazelle while we were on the road. In the evening Dupuis and I

made practice at the crocodiles in the river, and their numbers were

shown by the commotion that they made in the pools. The next day we

pushed on across the desert towards Berber and slept in the open. On

April 1 our road lay through similar country. Sometimes a gazelle

would scamper away in the distance, but often nothing was to be seen

but sand and mirage. And then suddenly we were confronted by vestiges

of civilization. When we were not far from the Atbara battle-field

we saw the unmistakable traces of a traction engine. About eleven

o’clock dome palms were in sight, and we reached a rest-house beside

the river half an hour later. After lunch we heard the jerky puffing

of a petrol motor, and rushed out to see what was approaching. It was

a heavy engine dragging a car, and the tracks which we had discerned

were accounted for. The Englishman in charge told us that he had

carried a tombstone to the battlefield; it had been erected on an

officer’s grave. He added that he could travel six miles an hour

in the desert, but that petrol was very expensive in Berber, where

it cost ten shillings a gallon; so he had come to the rest-house to

await a troop of forty mules, which were to drag the engine and car

back to the town.

[Illustration: LORD KITCHENER’S BRIDGE OVER THE ATBARA, NEAR BERBER.

_See p._ 214.]

On April 2 we reached the bridge over the Atbara—_monumentum ære

perennius_, if Lord Kitchener’s energy and perseverance receive

their deserts from posterity. It was strange to us to see a railway

train, and hear the whistle of a locomotive once more. On the next day

we arrived at Berber. Here we were in full contact with civilization,

and here, practically, the duties of the expedition ended, for we

followed the ordinary train and steamer route to our journey’s

end. Here, too, I will take leave of my reader, hoping that the long

excursion from Khartoum has not wearied him, and will only add my

conviction that a splendid future lies before the Eastern Soudan,

and before Abyssinia, _after_ the clouds have gathered over that

country and burst.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: A khor is a gully or gorge formed by the rush of rain

in the wet season. It is a watercourse at that time, but a dry ravine

during the rest of the year.]

[Footnote 2: Kneel.]

[Footnote 3: These bottles were of aluminium covered with felt. Before

we started on the day’s march, the felt was soaked in water,

and the evaporation from it tended to keep the drinking supply cool.]

[Footnote 4: Lieutenant-Colonel.]

[Footnote 5: Governor.]

[Footnote 6: Chief baggage-man.]

[Footnote 7: This trill is maintained on the same note—the upper B

flat of the feminine vocal compass—and is produced by a vibration

of the tip of the tongue on the hard palate. Many European ladies

have tried to give a rendering of it, but without success. In Lower

Egypt the “joy-trilling” is called _zungareet_.]

[Footnote 8: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” 1867, p. 525.]

[Footnote 9: Ib. p. 523.]

[Footnote 10: “Life in Abyssinia,” 1868, p. 101]

[Footnote 11: “The great plain comes to an end within a few miles

of Gedaref, the ground becomes uneven and rocky, and Gedaref itself

is situated in an open valley surrounded by bare hills of basaltic

rock.”—Sir W. Garstin, “Report upon the Basin of the Upper

Nile,” 1904.]

[Footnote 12: “The shotel (sword) is an awkward-looking

weapon. Some, if straight, would be nearly four feet long; they

are two-edged, and curved to a semicircle, like a reaper’s

sickle. It is a very clumsy weapon to manage. Many of the swords

are made of the soft iron of the country and bend on the least

stress. The handles are made of the horn of the rhinoceros, sawn

into three longitudinal pieces, and incised so as to end in sharp

points parallel to the blades. The shank is usually clinched over

a half-dollar beaten convex. I should scarcely mind a blow from a

sword thus mounted, as, were the striker to give his wrist any play,

in order to make his cut at all effective, he could not fail sending

one of the highly ornamental but very useless points of his hilt

into his own wrist. . . . In the use of the gun the natives are in

general exceedingly clumsy. They prefer large, heavy matchlocks,

to load which is a labour of some minutes. They carry their powder

in hollow canes fitted into a leathern belt worn round the waist;

and, having no fixed charge, pour out at hazard a small quantity into

the hand. This they measure with the eye, occasionally putting back

a little if it appear too much, or adding a little if it seem not

enough. After this operation has been performed two or three times,

till they are pretty well satisfied as to the quantity, it is poured

into the gun-barrel. The proper charge is now tested by the insertion

of the ramrod. Lastly, when all is settled, some rag and a small bar

or ball of roughly wrought iron are rammed down. This last operation

(with the exception that the ramrod often sticks in the rag for half

an hour) is not difficult, as the ball is made of about a quarter

of an inch less diameter than the bore of the piece for which it is

intended. It is great fun to see these gunners, when taken unawares

by a sudden alarm; one can’t find his flint, another has lost his

steel; then there is the striking of a light, blowing the match,

priming the gun, fixing the match to a proper length and direction;

and, lastly, sticking into the ground the rest, which nearly all of

them use, especially if their piece be of the heavy description. There

is one thing in their favour—that the mere sound of driving in

the rest is generally sufficient to turn away the bravest Abyssinian

cavalry that ever charged.”—Mansfield Parkyns, pp. 236, 241.]

[Footnote 13: “Wanderings among the Falashas in Abyssinia,” by

Rev. H. Stern, 1862.]

[Footnote 14: “Narrative of a Journey through Abyssinia,” by

Henry Dufton, 1867.]

[Footnote 15: Dufton, pp. 16, 17.]

[Footnote 16: Ib. pp. 35, 36.]

[Footnote 17: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” 1867,

pp. 356-357.]

[Footnote 18: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” p. 182.]

[Footnote 19: For a variety of reasons—some of them creditable—a

number of Abyssinians abandon their allegiance to Menelek and the

Rases (chiefs) and become subject to Anglo-Egyptian jurisdiction.]

[Footnote 20: “King of Kings,” title of the Abyssinian monarch.]

[Footnote 21: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” p. 502.]

[Footnote 22: Mansfield Parkyns has given a full and careful

description of the national costume. I extract the following details

from it:—“The ‘quarry’ is the principal article of Abyssinian

dress: it is of cotton, and very fine and soft; those of the richer

being finer but probably not so serviceable as those of the poorer

class. It is made in three pieces; each piece is about three feet

broad by fifteen feet long. Near both ends of each piece is a red

stripe, five or six inches broad.” The pieces are sewn together

so as to form “a white double cloth, with a red border near the

bottom only; the breadth of the ‘quarry’ is nine feet by seven

and a half long. . . . The methods of putting on the cloth are as

various as the modes of wearing a Highland plaid. One of the most

ordinary ways is first to place it like a cloak over the shoulders:

the right end, which is purposely left the longer, is then thrown

over the left shoulder, and the bottom border, which would otherwise

(from its length) trail on the ground, is gathered over the right

shoulder” (“Life in Abyssinia,” pp. 228, 229). “The trousers

are of a soft textured but rather coarse cotton stuff, made in

the country, and are of two sorts: one called ‘cállis,’ the

other ‘coumta.’ The former reaches half-way down the calf of

the leg, the latter to about three or four inches above the knee”

(ib. pp. 225, 226). The other garment worn by the men is a belt. These

cinctures “vary in length from fifteen to sixty yards, and are about

one yard in width. In quantity of cotton they are nearly all of the

same weight, as the very long ones are in proportion finer than the

shorter” (ib. p. 227). With regard to feminine dress, “there is a

distinguishing costume for young girls, and for those who, from being

married or otherwise, are no longer considered as such. The dress of

the former is indeed rather slight, though far more picturesque than

that of the latter. . . . The girls merely wear a piece of cotton

stuff wrapped round the waist and hanging down almost to the knee,

and another (or the end of the former, if it be long enough) thrown

over the left shoulder, so as to leave the right arm and breast

exposed. In other parts of Tigre a black goat-skin, ornamented with

cowries, is often substituted for this latter. An ordinary woman

wears a large loose shirt down to the feet, with sleeves made tight

towards the wrist. This, with a ‘quarry’ similar to those of the

men, but worn rather differently, and a parasol when out of doors,

is a complete suit” (ib. pp. 241-243). Parkyns thus describes the

system of hairdressing: “In general, neither sex wears any covering

on the head, preferring to tress and butter that with which nature

has provided them. The hair of the Abyssinians is admirably adapted

for this purpose, being neither short and crisp like a negro’s,

nor yet of the soft elasticity of a European’s, but between

the two. . . . The operation of tressing is a very tedious one,

usually occupying an hour or two per head: therefore, of course,

it is repeated as seldom as possible: by some great dandies once a

fortnight: by others once a month, or even less frequently. In the

interim large supplies of fresh butter are employed, when obtainable,

in order to prevent the chance of a settlement of vermin; and a

piece of stick, like a skewer, is used for scratching. The hair is

gathered in plaits close over the whole surface of the head, the

lines running fore and aft, and the ends hanging down in ringlets

over the neck. . . . Some ladies have their butter daubed on nicely,

and then some scent: but the great ‘go’ among the dandies is to

appear in the morning with a huge pat of butter (about two ounces)

placed on the top of the head, which, as it gradually melts in

the sun, runs over the hair and down the neck, over the forehead,

and often into the eyes, thereby causing much smarting. This last

ingression, however, the gentleman usually prevents by wiping his

forehead frequently with his hand or the corner of his ‘quarry.’

As may be imagined, the dresses neither of the women nor men are long

free from grease; but this, especially among the latter sex, is of

no importance; indeed, many young men among the soldiery consider a

clean cloth as ‘slow,’ and appropriate only for a townsman or a

woman. These never have their quarries washed from one St. John’s

Day to another” (ib. pp. 243-245).]

[Footnote 23: “Modern Abyssinia,” p. 248.]

[Footnote 24: “Life in Abyssinia,” p. 282.]

[Footnote 25: “Abyssinia,” by Herbert Vivian, 1901, pp. 314-327.]

[Footnote 26: “Life in Abyssinia,” p. 418.]

[Footnote 27: Guard-house.]

[Footnote 28: “On one occasion we had a small adventure. We were

resting one night near the summit of a mountain, when about two hours

before daybreak we were awaked by a loud hubbub and the discharge

of a gun. Starting to our feet, we inquired what was up, and our

anxiety was increased by M. Lejean’s Arab seizing the second gun

and discharging it. All I saw, for it was pitch dark, was one of the

mules kicking about amongst the ashes of a half-extinguished fire,

and endeavouring to extricate himself from the leather thong which

bound his head to a tree. This he soon succeeded in doing, and went

off at a furious rate towards the woods which clothe the sides of

the mountain. I thought he had burnt himself at the fire, and that

this was the cause of his breaking loose, but the rest maintained

that he had been bitten by the hyenas: and they were right, for at

daybreak we saw and gave chase to one of these brutes, who was still

prowling about. These creatures were much bolder here than near the

villages. As we were sleeping in the open air, with our faces exposed,

it was fortunate for us that the hyenas preferred trying mule’s

flesh to man’s. We heard afterwards that the mule had returned to

Gallabat, a distance of forty miles, but was so severely bitten in

the flank that he was perfectly useless.” (Dufton, “A Journey

through Abyssinia,” pp. 48, 49.)]

[Footnote 29: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” pp. 515, 516.]

[Footnote 30: “The word ‘Habash’ (the native name for

Abyssinian) means, I believe, a ‘mixture’ in the Giz language—a

mixture of various qualities of corn goes by that name in some of

the provinces of Tigre. It is supposed by some that a great number

of Jews followed the Queen of Sheba, on her return from her visit

to Solomon, and that a large colony of fugitives also took refuge

in Abyssinia about the time of the destruction of the temple and

the captivity. Subsequently the Greeks sent missionaries, and they

were doubtless accompanied by adventurers; and the Portuguese sent

a number of troops, some of whom remained in the country for many

years. The variety of complexion, observable in both sexes, is, I

should think, attributable to the mixture of races of which the nation

is composed.” (Mansfield Parkyns, “Life in Abyssinia,” p. 224.)]

[Footnote 31: That most resourceful of travellers, Sir Samuel

Baker, once put an ant-hill of this kind to a singular use. The

incident may be new to some of my readers. The explorer wished to

make soap in the Soudan. “I had neither lime nor potash, but I

shortly procured both. The hegleek-tree (_Balanites Egyptiaca_)

was extremely rich in potash; therefore I burned a large quantity,

and made a strong ley with the ashes; this I concentrated by

boiling. There was no lime-stone; but the river produced a plentiful

supply of large oyster-shells, that, if burned, would yield excellent

lime. Accordingly I constructed a kiln, with the assistance of the

white ants. The country was infested with these creatures, which had

erected their dwellings in all directions; these were formed of clay

so thoroughly cemented by a glutinous preparation of the insects,

that it was harder than sun-baked brick. I selected an egg-shaped

hill, and cut off the top, exactly as we take off the slice from an

egg. My Tokrooris then worked hard, and with a hoe and their lances,

they hollowed it out to the base, in spite of the attacks of the ants,

which punished the legs of the intruders considerably. I now made a

draught-hole from the outside base, at right-angles with the bottom

of the hollow cone. My kiln was perfect.” (“The Nile Tributaries

of Abyssinia,” pp. 424, 425.)]

[Footnote 32: I have seen living trees of the height of ninety feet,

the bark of which had been entirely converted into a layer of “white

ant earth.”]

[Footnote 33: “My sight was now delighted by frequent views of the

summits of the Simyen mountains, thickly covered with snow. As this

was the month of April, one of the hottest, I can easily believe that

some of these mountains are never free, but are within the region

of perpetual winter. They are the highest in Abyssinia, attaining

an elevation of fifteen thousand feet in Aboo Yared, the loftiest

peak.” (Dufton, “A Journey through Abyssinia,” p. 196.) The

heights of Simyen lie north-east of Lake Tsana, between the lake

and Adowa.]

[Footnote 34: “The Geerar is a typical mountain river in a country

consisting almost wholly of impervious basaltic and granite rocks;

it is evidently a furious torrent after rain, but dry except for

the merest trickle at other times; it runs in a deep narrow valley,

shut in, hot, and airless, and probably very unhealthy.” (Sir

W. Garstin, “Report upon the Basin of the Upper Nile,” 1904.)]

[Footnote 35: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” vol. iii., 1881.]

[Footnote 36: These are the “Maria Theresa” dollars. “The Maria

Theresa dollar is a facsimile of the coin of 1780. It is still issued

by the Austrian Government, and circulates as a trade coin nearly all

over Africa. Though roughly about the size of a five-shilling piece,

it only exchanges for a little more than its intrinsic value, which

was about 1_s._ 11_d._ when I left Africa.” (“Abyssinia,”

by Herbert Vivian, 1901, p. 239.) Dufton wrote, with regard to

Abyssinian marketing: “The Maria Theresa dollar is the only coin

used in these transactions under the name of _bir_ (silver). This

piece must be of a certain kind, however, containing the spots which

form the queen’s tiara, and other marks clearly defined; for which

reason it is called by the Arabs of the Soudan Abou Nukter, or father

of spots.” (“A Journey through Abyssinia,” p. 61.) Mr. Vivian

gives the following table of Abyssinian currency:—

4 cartridges = 1 salt

4 salts = 1 Maria Theresa dollar

The “salt” is a bar of that mineral, which is ordinarily carried

and used in lieu of coin. I found that its value was, roughly,

sixpence, as Mr. Vivian says. At an earlier date its purchasing power

seems to have been less. “Pieces of salt, called _tsho_, are the

monetary medium throughout the greater part of Abyssinia. This salt

is obtained from extensive mines in the country of the Danakil, where

it is cut into small blocks, eight inches long by one inch and a half

in breadth, each of which is of a variable market value of between

twopence and threepence.” (“A Journey through Abyssinia,”

pp. 61, 62.) Evidently there has been “appreciation of salt” in

the land of the Negus since 1862, when Mr. Dufton visited it.]

[Footnote 37: “A Journey through Abyssinia,” pp. 47, 48.]

[Footnote 38: See p. 179.]

[Footnote 39: Psalm lxxiii. 18.]

[Footnote 40: Chieftain. As in the feudal times in Europe there is a

chain of allegiance—often enough broken—between the king and the

mass of his subjects. This Ras was the “Deputy’s” feudal chief.]

[Footnote 41: Consul Plowden (1848-60), quoted in “Abyssinia and

its people,” by J. C. Hotten, 1868, pp. 130, 135.]

[Footnote 42: See map.]

[Footnote 43: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” vol. iii. p. 32.]

[Footnote 44: “Abyssinia and its People,” by J. C. Hotten, 1868,

p. 128.]

[Footnote 45: Mr. MacMillan, describing some of the incidents of

his recent expedition to the upper reaches of the Blue Nile, told

an interviewer: “We were roused at four in the morning by the wild

screams of one of our people (a Somali), who had been seized by a big

crocodile, which had crawled up the rocks. The brute had seized his

victim by the head and dragged him to the water’s edge. By throwing

stones at the crocodile we succeeded in making him leave the Somali,

who, though terribly mauled, eventually recovered.”—_Egyptian

Gazette_, October 21, 1903. Mr. MacMillan told me subsequently in

conversation that the Somali, when he was attacked, was sleeping with

his head on his arm, and that the crocodile seized both head and arm,

with the result that the Somali put his finger in the crocodile’s

eye. Mr. MacMillan was inclined to believe that this action made the

reptile release the man. The guns and ammunition of the expedition

had all been lost, and were at the bottom of the river, and the

night was pitch dark.]

[Footnote 46: “Life in Abyssinia,” pp. 383 _seq._]

[Footnote 47: Native bread. “The chief corn of the country is

‘teff’ and ‘dágousha,’ if, indeed, we may venture to include

these under the head of corn; for they both resemble different sorts

of grass, and the seed is not larger than rape or canary seed. Of

each of these there are various qualities, esteemed according to their

colour, white, red, or black. White ‘teff’ bread is preferred by

all natives even to wheat bread. . . . The ‘teff’ is considered

by the Abyssinians wholesome and digestible; but so far from being

satisfied of this, I am doubtful of its containing much nutritious

property; and as for its taste, only fancy yourself chewing a piece

of sour sponge, and you will have a good idea of what is considered

the best bread in Abyssinia.” (Parkyns, “Life in Abyssinia,”

pp. 198-200.)]

[Footnote 48: In other parts of Abyssinia “there are also two

kinds, one a very large one and another of Jersey size, that show

absolutely no trace of an Eastern origin, and are as straight-backed

as any English short-horn.” (“Modern Abyssinia,” by Augustus

Wylde. Methuen, 1901.)]

[Footnote 49: “Life in Abyssinia,” p. 259.]

[Footnote 50: I do not know whether the women drink much _tedj_,

but even the ladies of the land did so in Bruce’s time. He

was in Gondar when “Ozoro Esther’s sister, the Iteghe’s”

(queen-mother’s) “youngest daughter was married to Powussen,

the governor of Begemder. The king gave her large districts of land

in that province, and Ras Michael a large portion of gold, muskets,

cattle, and horses.” On this occasion “the Ras, Ozoro Esther,

and Ozoro Altash entertained all Gondar. A vast number of cattle

were slaughtered every day, and the whole town was one great market:

the common people, in every street, appeared laden with pieces of raw

beef, while drink circulated in like profusion. The Ras insisted upon

Bruce’s dining with him every day. After dinner they slipped away

to parties of ladies, where anarchy prevailed as completely as at the

house of the Ras. All the married women ate, drank and smoked like

the men; in fact it is impossible to convey to the English reader,

in terms of proper decency, any idea of this bacchanalian scene”

(Head’s “Life of Bruce,” pp. 297, 298). In Parkyns’s time a

wedding-feast was an orgy of the same kind for all classes and both

sexes. And as there is a complete absence of _gêne_ in the conduct

of modern Abyssinian women in other respects, I have little doubt

that they still favour the _tedj_ when the mood prompts them.]

[Footnote 51: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” vol. iii. p. 27.]

[Footnote 52: “Asked about the trade prospects in Abyssinia

and the projected American commercial mission, Mr. MacMillan said,

‘The greater part of the trade of Abyssinia is already in American

hands. The principal import is white cotton sheeting, which every

Abyssinian wears, all of which comes from the United States. I do not

see that there is much possibility of further development in the trade

as far as this sheeting—which is everywhere known as Amerikani—is

concerned; the supply has already reached its maximum. There may be

some possibilities in the case of oil, which at present comes from

Russia. As a matter of fact there is no money in the country.”

(_Egyptian Gazette_, October 21, 1903.)]

[Footnote 53: Quoted in “Abyssinia Described,” by J. C. Hotten,

p. 129.]

[Footnote 54: Dufton, “A Journey through Abyssinia,” p. 63.]

[Footnote 55: “Abyssinia,” p. 124.]

[Footnote 56: “Modern Abyssinia,” by Augustus Wylde, p. 345.]

[Footnote 57: “Life in Abyssinia,” by Mansfield Parkyns, p. 278.]

[Footnote 58: Ib. p. 254.]

[Footnote 59: “Modern Abyssinia,” p. 369.]

[Footnote 60: See p. 120.]

[Footnote 61: “The Gumara here flows between high rocks, which

consist of porphyry and trachyte, in which calcareous tufa is found

embedded. Its banks are adorned with tropical vegetation, and the

place derives its characteristic features especially from the wild

_Phœnix_ with its delicate foliage and the colossal _Musa Ensete

ornamentalis_ with carmine leaf-panicles, which is called _guma-guma_

by the natives to distinguish it from the edible _Musa Ensete_. In

many places the Gumara is deep and full of fish; innumerable wild

ducks and geese, _scopus umbretta_, etc., enliven the surface of

the water, while bright-hued butterflies, the charming _Danais_

and equitidæ with their brilliant play of colour, mingled with

tiny metallic-tinted nectariniæ (_affinis metallica_), flit around

the fragrant _Dodonæa viscosa_ and the brilliant blossoms of the

Tsana-tree” (“Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft

in Deutschland,” vol. iii. 1881, pp. 23, 24). _Phœnix_ is the

name given to a family of pinnate palms, of which the Egyptian

_Phœnix dactylifera_, the finger-date, is an example. _Ensete_ is

the Abyssinian name of a thick-stemmed, large-leafed banana, which

is grown in gardens as an ornamental plant. The thick flower-stalk

is used as an article of food by the natives, but the fruit, being

small and dry, is useless. In spite of these attractions, Wansage,

(see p. 63) according to Stecker, would hardly be a suitable

health-resort for European invalids. He wrote, “By night an

infernal din prevails, which, mingled with the singing of women and

clapping of hands, forms the characteristic music of the Baths. The

bull-frogs that live in the Gumara supply a harmonious accompaniment,

which, with the noise kept up by the donkeys and beasts of burden,

does not cease till long after midnight” (Ib.).]

[Footnote 62: This is the district called Lamge. Stecker said of it:

“I consider Lamge the prettiest place on Lake Tsana; the ancient,

massive _Dokma_ trees are all covered by parasitical _Loranthidæ_

with rose-red and purple blossoms, and by whole nests of olive-green

_Viscum_, and another parasitical plant which is peculiar to this

one tree; and they are surrounded by an impenetrable growth of

_Cucurbitaceæ_ and _Convolvulaceæ_, which in some places form the

most romantic piazzas, and in others arbours and formal galleries,

and afford the coolest shade. This Lamge is a place for which one

may prophesy a brilliant future. Everywhere hereabouts on ancient

acacias hang the nests of weaver-birds (_textor alecto_), and,

out of curiosity, I counted upon one of them 872 basket-shaped,

suspended nests” (“Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft

in Deutschland,” vol. iii. 1881, p. 26).]

[Footnote 63: Europeans are not allowed to visit the Island of Dega,

“because it is not permitted to any one to set foot on this holy

ground, which is only inhabited by anchorite monks and is sacred

to St. Stephen” (Stecker, “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen

Gesellschaft in Deutschland,” p. 31).]

[Footnote 64: At the battle of Gallabat in 1889.]

[Footnote 65: I saw no rods or hooks used by natives in

Abyssinia. They have nets weighted with pieces of lead. These are

simply thrown out to sweep the water at their full spread and slowly

pulled in. Then the net is gathered up, hung over the fisher’s

left arm and cast again.]

[Footnote 66: Stecker did not visit the Island of Mitraha. He wrote:

“On account of a quarrel that arose between my servants and the

tatterdemalion clergy of Mitraha I did not land on this parsons’

island. The priests wanted to extort money from me by this method:

that they would sell me no provisions before I had visited their

church, which meant, before I had given them baksheesh in profusion”

(“Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in Deutschland,”

p. 26).]

[Footnote 67: Wylde, “Modern Abyssinia,” p. 417.]

[Footnote 68: Vivian, “Abyssinia,” p. 186.]

[Footnote 69: Stern gave the following interesting account of

the monarch _de jure_:—“Whilst at Gondar we visited various

personages of rank and dignity; amongst others _Atzee Johannes_,

the Shadow King, and according to Abyssinian annals, the legitimate

successor to the throne and lineal descendant of Solomon by the Queen

of Sheba’s son. He was seated on an _alga_ in a dirty little room,

with a monk’s skull-cap on his head, reading the Psalms. He asked

me many questions on geography, and unlike the majority of Abyssinian

savants did not believe that beyond Jerusalem the sun never shone,

and that only serpents and other venomous reptiles occupied the

untenanted land. I was told that whenever _Atzee Johannes_ visits

King Theodore, the latter stands before him, as an acknowledgment

of his title to a crown which he could not defend. He receives an

annual pension from the Royal Treasury” (“Wanderings among the

Falashes in Abyssinia,” pp. 212, 213).]

[Footnote 70: Quoted in “Abyssinia Described,” J. C. Hotten,

pp. 122, 123.]

[Footnote 71: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” 1881, vol. iii. pp. 26-31.]

[Footnote 72: Stecker wrote: “Es gehen nach Wansage Kranke aller

Art, und da es wenige Abyssinier giebt, die nicht syphilitisch wären,

so sieht man meistens nur Patienten, die gegen Lustseuch und ihre

Folgen hier Heilung zu finden glauben” (“Mittheilungen,”

p. 23). As far as my experience goes, this overstates the case a

little, but the complete disregard of morality by both sexes—a

matter about which the clergy do not trouble themselves—has

rendered disease of this kind extremely common. The pest of internal

parasites, which is the bane of all classes of Abyssinians, and is

almost universal among them, is undoubtedly due to their disgusting

habit of eating raw meat. They devour flesh warm and quivering

from the newly slaughtered carcase, and Bruce asserted that in

his time they habitually cut the meat from the living animal, and

continued to do so until it bled to death. This would be an unusual

barbarity, and Parkyns saw no instance of it, though he believed

Bruce’s statement to have been true when he made it (“Life in

Abyssinia,” p. 204). Mr. Wylde has given another explanation of what

Bruce observed (“Modern Abyssinia,” p. 153). But, whatever may be

the fact as to this particular, the habit of eating uncooked flesh

prevails everywhere in the country. I noticed that the ceremonial

practices of the Mussulmans appeared to save them both from tænia

and scabies. But, in spite of their ablutions, they are infested, like

the rest of the inhabitants, with body lice. Mohammedans are regarded

with disdain by the Christian Abyssinians, and the prejudice against

them, as I have said, accounts for some of the uncleanliness of the

Christians. To wash much or regularly is to behave like a Mussulman.]

[Footnote 73: “Life in Abyssinia,” pp. 282, 283.]

[Footnote 74: “Pastillos Rufillus olet, Gargonius hircum.” Horace,

_Sat._ I. 2.]

[Footnote 75: _Cf._ p. 42.]

[Footnote 76: “This official is called a ‘_balderabba_,’ and

is intrusted with a traveller’s safety” (Stern, “Wanderings

among the Falashes,” p. 96), and “becomes a sort of agent, and

expects you to acknowledge by presents, any service he may render

you, such as assisting you out of difficulties in which you may be

involved” (Parkyns, “Life in Abyssinia,” p. 72)]

[Footnote 77: Quoted in “Abyssinia Described,” p. 129.]

[Footnote 78: “Narrative of the British Mission to Theodore,

King of Abyssinia,” by Hormuzd Rassam, F.R.G.S. Murray,

1896. Vol. i. pp. 317, 318.]

[Footnote 79: See p. 223.]

[Footnote 80: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” 1881, vol. iii. pp. 24, 25.]

[Footnote 81: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” pp. 492-496.]

[Footnote 82: Cf. such a Spanish name for a man as José _Maria_.]

[Footnote 83: “Narrative of the British Mission to King Theodore,”

vol. i. p. 229.]

[Footnote 84: “Narrative of the British Mission to King Theodore,”

vol. i. p. 314.]

[Footnote 85: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” 1881, vol. iii. p. 27.]

[Footnote 86: See p. 151.]

[Footnote 87: Hormuzd Rassam, “British Mission to King Theodore,”

vol. i. p. 315.]

[Footnote 88: Father Lobo reached Abyssinia in 1624.]

[Footnote 89: Father Lobo, who landed on the east coast of Africa,

had never heard of the White Nile—this is made evident by his

discourse upon the Abai—and believed the head-waters of the Blue

Nile to be the origin of the whole river.]

[Footnote 90: In the map reproduced in this volume, the course of

the Abai through Lake Tsana is marked by arrows. Its current can be

quite plainly distinguished, as Father Lobo says, from the surrounding

water. The circumstance was remarked by Dr. Stecker.]

[Footnote 91: See p. 256.]

[Footnote 92: Stern mentions “a solid stone bridge of seven

arches—one of the few monuments left by the Portuguese,” which in

his time spanned the Reb. He called the stream Erib (“Wanderings

among the Falashas,” p. 169). Both he and Dufton crossed that

river by this bridge. In all probability it was constructed by the

artificers who built the arch over the Abai. I do not know whether

the Reb bridge is still standing. We forded the stream, as has been

said, and were not aware at the time that it had ever been bridged.]

[Footnote 93: The bulbous roots here mentioned are probably those

of the “red-hot poker” plant, which grows abundantly in damp

places in the higher regions of Abyssinia.]

[Footnote 94: “Travels to discover the Sources of the Nile in the

years 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, 1772, and 1773,” by James Bruce of

Kinnaird, Esq., F.R.S.]

[Footnote 95: “Life of Bruce,” by Major F. P. Head, pp. 276-278.]

[Footnote 96: Whips made of thongs of hippopotamus hide, which serves

both for lash and handle.]

[Footnote 97: This is a military title, and means “Commander of

Advance Guard.” (A. Wylde, “Modern Abyssinia,” p. 495).]

[Footnote 98: We saw few bananas and none of these pigs in 1903.]

[Footnote 99: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft in

Deutschland,” 1881, vol. iii. pp. 30, 31.]

[Footnote 100: “Wanderings among the Falashas,” p. 13.]

[Footnote 101: “The Anatomy of Vertebrated Animals,” p. 367. This

little animal is the coney of the Scriptures.]

[Footnote 102: Since we were by the lakeside a decree has been

issued that the hippos, for their misdeeds in destroying crops

and overturning _tankoas_, are to be treated as _vermin_, and

shot whenever opportunity arises; so I fear that these ancient

“riparian owners” will soon disappear from their pleasant and

immemorial haunts.]

[Footnote 103: We found these shells and oysters in all the rivers

to which our journey brought us. They are especially abundant in

the shallow pools of the Atbara.]

[Footnote 104: I have already said that the island of Dek seems to

me to have been chiefly formed by siltage.]

[Footnote 105: “Mittheilungen der Afrikanischen Gesellschaft

in Deutschland,” 1881, vol. iii. p. 28. The following general

description of the lake district embodied by Mr. Dupuis in his Report

on the Expedition, and published in Sir W. Garstin’s Despatch

already cited (Ed. 2165, 1904, p. 215), is terse and interesting:

“The depression occupied by the lake is, generally speaking,

saucer-shaped, the land rising from the edge of the water in gentle

undulating plains, getting steeper and steeper and terminating in

considerable hills or mountains of some importance. In several places,

as at Gorgora on the north, Mitraha and Koratsa on the east, Zegi

on the south, and Dengelber on the west, the hills come right down

to the lake and descend more or less abruptly into the water, but

more often they stand back at some distance from it. The geological

formation is almost everywhere of the same primitive character

that seems to be universal in the Eastern Soudan, granite, gneiss,

and quartz, varied only by tracts of lava, basalt, and eruptive

rocks. Sandstone is reported by some travellers, and lime-stone is

said to be found near Gondar, but I saw neither myself. The large

tracts of comparatively level land consist almost entirely of the

cracked black cotton soil usually found associated with igneous

rocks. At the mouths of all the larger rivers flowing into the lake

are extensive alluvial plains generally composed wholly of this same

cotton soil, and of the greatest fertility, though nine-tenths of

their area now grows nothing more valuable than coarse grass.”]

[Footnote 106: “Modern Abyssinia,” pp. 40-43.]

[Footnote 107: “Modern Abyssinia,” p. 42.]

[Footnote 108: _Adansonia digitata_. These are tall trees, whose

timber is of a spongy consistency. Sir S. Baker mentions one which

was about forty feet in circumference. He wrote: “The _Adansonia

digitata_, although a tree, always reminds me of a gigantic fungus;

the stem is disproportioned in its immense thickness to its height,

and its branches are few in number, and as massive in character

as the stem. The wood is not much firmer in substance than cork,

and is as succulent as a carrot.” (“The Nile Tributaries of

Abyssinia,” p. 356.)]

[Footnote 109: Governor.]

[Footnote 110: “If God is willing.”]

[Footnote 111: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” pp. 124, 125.]

[Footnote 112: “Life in Abyssinia,” pp. 385, 386.]

[Footnote 113: “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” p. 240.]