A STRANGE "GET-UP" -- AN UNLUCKY SHOT -- CRANES -- AN INSOLENT
"CHICKER" -- OUR COOLIES STRIKE -- FLORICAN -- SERVANT HUNTING --
NIGHT MARCHING -- FIRST SIGHT OF THE MAREB -- "LONG LIE" --
COPTIC CHURCH -- A PEAL OF STONE BELLS -- HIGHWAY ROBBERY -- A
CHASE -- DOMESTIC QUARREL -- LUGGAGE DIFFICULTIES -- A MOONLIGHT
RACE.
_Jan. 13._--We made an early start this morning, as it was a lovely
day, and left the tents behind to stand and dry, as they would have
been very heavy to pack wet. The General accompanied us; he would have
looked a queer figure on an Aldershot field day. He wore an undress
general's uniform, with a large sword clanking by his side, sitting on
an Abyssinian saddle with rather faded trappings; he rode a mule, the
sword clanking against every rock on the narrow path. We saw some
partridges on the road, and I had a crack at one and wounded it, but
it soon made away. Kirkham jumped off his mule and rushed after the
bird, sword and all, to finish it off or catch it; but these birds run
like hares, and the game was soon lost in the thick bushes.
We went on ascending, and as we did the vegetation became thinner and
thinner. At the top stunted yew-trees grew, so it must be cold here at
most seasons of the year. We then went over some low hills, and at
length found ourselves on a large plain, with cultivated land here and
there. A flock of large cranes were flying round and round; at last
they settled on a bit of ploughed land not far from the road.
I rode towards them and tried to stalk them, but they would not let me
come very close. I fired my 16-bore gun into the "brown" as they rose,
but it had no effect. I would recommend all future sportsmen to take
out wire cartridges with them: one never knows what one may come
across in a wild country, and a wire cartridge at close quarters would
act like a bullet, and for long shots of course they are capital.
In the distance might be seen the village of Asmarra; the houses
flat-roofed and built into the side of the low hill on which the
village stands. About ten or twelve of the natives came out to meet
us; they saluted us respectfully, and we touched our hats. They had
come out not only to meet us but also to stop our baggage-bullocks
from coming any farther than the top of the hills, as there was cattle
disease among the herds of the Shoho Arabs, and an order had been
issued all through Abyssinia that no cattle were to travel, or be
allowed to go to or from infected districts: this is worthy the notice
of our sanitary commissioners at home. Kirkham had trotted on, to make
arrangements at his house for us. We left the village of Asmarra, and
on our left the ground fell; as we rode on we passed several pools. In
the distance flocks of fat-tailed sheep might be seen cropping the
short grass, they were of the breed spoken of before, and celebrated
throughout Abyssinia. One fat sheep costs a Maria Theresa dollar;[6]
but two small ones can be bought for the same money.
We saw Kirkham's little house, with a roof like an extinguisher, in
front of us; it was perched on a high cliff that overlooked the plain,
which was dotted about with water-pools. Kirkham had told us they were
famous places for ducks, and sometimes snipe.
We soon arrived at the house; it was surrounded by the usual hedge to
be seen round all Abyssinian houses; this hedge is not growing, but
made of thorn-branches and stakes. The few houses which composed the
village of Beatmohar were close by. Kirkham at once produced some
honey-wine, called "tej" in Abyssinia; it was excellent, and proved
very refreshing after our ride. "Tej" is made in the following way: to
one part of honey are added seven parts of water, and well mixed; then
some leaves of a plant called "geshoo" are put into the mixture, to
make it ferment; it is put outside in the shade and left for a day or
two. A piece of cotton cloth is strained over the mouth of the large
earthenware jar, or "gumbo," and through this the "tej" is poured; the
servant tapping the cloth with his fingers to make the liquid run
freely. If one wants to make it stronger, the first brew is used
instead of the water; adding honey and geshoo leaves in the same way.
In the time of King Theodore that monarch had tej five years old,
which made any one drunk in a very short time; but those were the
"good old times" which we read of.
We ate some lunch, and I took out my gun and went for a stroll; I shot
a large blue crane, and saw some ducks. I went out again with H. in
the evening to look out for ducks; a flock of teal just as it was
getting dark came whistling over my head, but I was not quick enough
for them. On my way home I shot an owl, which I presented to Fisk for
stuffing. He informed me it was identically the same as the barn owl
at home. I was rather disgusted, as I thought an Abyssinian owl must
be different from the home species; but he insisted that he had shot
lots of them in Norfolk, and said the skin of it was not worth the
carriage home. Over this I got rather "chaffed," so I resolved not to
shoot any more Abyssinian owls. I believe it is considered very
unlucky to shoot an owl!
_Jan. 14._--This night we were very comfortable, sleeping in a sort of
divan that Kirkham had put up, round the inner room of his house. It
was a great relief to know before turning into it that the sleeper
would not be the unwilling victim of a leaky roof.
We had settled, H. and I, and Fisk, to go at dawn of day to try and
get some duck in a pool just at the foot of the high rock on which the
house stood, so next morning off we started. It was bitterly cold and
a white frost on the ground. We crept down to the pool and let fly all
six barrels into the middle of the flock. Sad to relate, only three
fell, which were not picked up; one of Kirkham's Galla boys was sent
down later in the day and discovered two.
We then proceeded up the pools; I flushed a snipe and knocked him
down, he was rather a lean specimen of his kind. On our way home I saw
those large cranes again coming towards me, so I squatted down as
close to the ground as I could and waited; the flock kept coming on,
making a great noise and screeching, but they saw me and wheeled away.
One old gentleman, rather in advance of the others, wheeled rather
close to me; I let fly my 16-bore No. 1 shot: it did not seem to
affect him in the least, when after going a little way, all of a
sudden he fell like a stone. I ran as hard as I could and found him
quite dead, with his backbone cut right through by the shot; how he
could possibly have kept flying in this state I do not know. His
shank-bones will make excellent pipe stems.
The rest of this day we were engaged in again shifting our provisions,
etc., into skin bags; as boxes are very bad things to carry either by
coolies, mules, or donkeys. It is the custom in Abyssinia to have all
one's baggage, as far as possible, packed in these bags, and then the
coolies do not mind carrying them so much. A box is so hard it hurts a
man's shoulder when he carries it, and as for mules and donkeys it
means sore backs at once; besides, the leather thongs that bind the
box on to the mule are always slipping. We paid a Maria Theresa for
two of these bags, and found it rather difficult to get them. Kirkham
had gone to Asmarra to make arrangements for coolies, and when he came
back, he said everything was completed, and that we should start
to-morrow at sunrise. Vain hope, as the reader will see; for, instead
of starting at sunrise, we started at sunset. The people who dwell in
the gorgeous East have no idea of time, and always think that
Europeans are in a hurry, and that to-morrow will do as well as
to-day.
We had sent a message to Belata Keda Kedan, the chief of this
province: he lives at a town called Tzazega, about half a day's
journey from Beatmohar.
_Jan. 15._--In the morning no coolies appeared: one of the "chickers,"
or tax collectors, or head-men of the village, was very insolent; he
brought three coolies, and asked an exorbitant price. I said I would
not give it; he then walked away laughing, followed by the coolies,
saying, "Well, you won't get them at all now." I thought to myself,
"My friend, you shall pay for this." I then politely asked him to walk
into our enclosure, shut the door, and made a prisoner of him; put a
guard over him, and told him he should wait.
Kirkham's and the Galla boys were delighted; they thought, the young
rascals, there was a chance of a fight. We waited till the afternoon,
when, coming across the plain, we saw the chief, followed by a large
retinue, some on mules, some with shields, spears, and guns, holding
little plaited straw umbrellas over their heads. I made arrangement
that only the chief himself and a few of his followers should be
allowed inside our little enclosure. When he arrived I met him at the
door, and escorted him inside the house. We then told him all that had
happened, and had the prisoner brought in. The chief questioned him,
and then ordered him outside to be thrashed; but he was not punished,
as he implored to be let off, and said he would use his best
endeavours to get people of the village to carry our baggage. We gave
our Egyptian soldiers a present, and they went back to Massowah.
We here changed our plans, as K. said it was only a waste of time
going to Adowa on our way to the shooting on the Mareb and Tackazzee,
and we might do it coming back. Eventually, after the chief's soldiers
and followers had hunted up the villagers, and dragged them, kicked
them, and beat them, they were made to carry our baggage. We started
about one hour before sunset, the coolies having gone in front. The
reason that the soldiers treated the villagers in this way was, that
the king, who was far away, had heard there were some Englishmen
coming into the country, and had given orders to the chiefs or
governors that we were to be treated with respect, and everything that
we wanted done for us.
We travelled across a large table-land with not a vestige of foliage
to be seen, and no sound to be heard but now and then the bleating of
the sheep as they were driven to their pens near the villages for the
night. The moon rose, and we very soon found ourselves near a village
called Adouguada. All our coolies had stopped; the lazy fellows had
scarcely been travelling for two hours; they had handed our baggage
over to the head-man of the village. This is a usual mode of
proceeding in Abyssinia; one is passed on from village to village, and
if the villages happen to be close together the day is spent in
quarrelling and in looking over and counting the baggage. When I rode
up they were all talking at once and making a horrid noise, as is
usual on such occasions. I asked for a hearing, and informed the
villagers of Adouguada that if they did not carry our baggage I should
take two cows and two sheep from the village, and stop there all that
night with my servants; under these circumstances they would have to
provide us with bread, etc. Brou, the interpreter, advised me to do
this; he said, "It is the only way to get on, and you are travelling
in the king's name, and can have what you want." H. then came up with
K., and we procured something to eat and some coffee. The villagers
made much noise and gesticulation, and then at last picked up _half_
our things and went off.
We then started for Sellaadarou, the place we were going to camp at
that night. It was bright moonlight, and the moon in the East, as some
of my readers probably know, appears very different from our moon at
home. It was a beautiful ride, but a little cold. We arrived at
Sellaadarou about nine P.M., or perhaps a little later. K., like an
old soldier as he was, pitched the camp just outside the village, in
a sort of little garden that the villagers had made to grow their
capsicums in; it was surrounded by a thick thorn hedge, made of boughs
cut from the thorny acacia. This hedge provided us with wood without
any trouble; so we made two large bonfires to warm ourselves, ate some
supper, and turned in after a long worrying day. The other half of the
baggage had not come up when we retired to our tents.
_Jan. 16: Sellaadarou._--After breakfast this morning I went out
shooting, taking with me a native of the village to show me the way. I
"put up" some partridges, among them a young florican, which I shot,
much to the astonishment of the Abyssinian. They never can make out
how birds can be shot while on the wing, as their plan is to get as
near as possible, and then "pot" the birds on the ground--a very good
one too, if the sportsman is hungry. I never knew before that there
were floricans in Abyssinia; there are plenty in some parts of India.
The bird was delicious eating. I saw two dark mouse-brown deer, but
could not get at them, and, of course, for a long shot I wanted my
Express rifle. When I came into camp I found that some of the
villagers of Sellaadarou had carried on a few of our things. H. had
been round the village with some of our servants to beat up the
natives; he said it was great fun running from house to house trying
to catch the men, the women swearing that their husbands or sons were
away. Abyssinian servants, on occasions like these, always filch any
little things they can quietly lay their hands on, and bring them to
their master afterwards; I had on several occasions to punish servants
for this, and make them take the things back. H. started in the
afternoon with a little more of the baggage. I told him we must force
our way on, and, as he was now on the move, to go as far as he could.
It will be seen afterwards he did a capital march.
Chickut was the name of the village K. told us we could camp at. It
was rather a short march, and I knew H. would go farther, for we had
been very much annoyed by these continual delays, so we agreed that he
should go on to the next village beyond Chickut. K. then went back to
Adouguada to fetch up the other half of our baggage left behind; I
said I would wait for him. Time went on, and it got later and later.
Fisk, who had stayed with me, said he would go out and try to get
something good for dinner, in case we should have to stop the night
here. Just at sunset I saw K. in the distance, kicking his old mule
along as fast as he could; he rode up and said Maria Theresa had won
the day--meaning the dollars. "All right," said I; "let us have
something to eat--then we must start and make a night march of it."
Fisk then came in and we made some soup.
There was nobody to carry the few things that remained here, so we
determined to use our mules as pack animals and walk; and a nice walk
it was, too. Fisk's white mule, bought at Massowah, declined to keep
the baggage on her back, and twice kicked all the things off,
scattering them right and left. Among them was the spirit case and
medicine chest; thank goodness, neither were broken. I had them made
after my own fashion, so this was a severe test for them. The white
mule had to be ridden after all, and poor K. had to give up his
riding-mule to carry the things. We started an hour and a half after
sunset,[7] and walked well right into Chickut, where we arrived about
eight P.M. The whole village was in a deep sleep, and we were only
greeted by a few barking dogs.
The road from Sellaadarou to Chickut is very rugged, and is a steep
descent, but it was a lovely moonlight night, and what we could see of
the view was glorious. Euphorbia, and the wild olive, formed a great
feature in the magnificent scenery. Poor K. stuck to the walking well,
but he had on a thin pair of button boots, which were rather trying
to his poor feet over the rocks. He would insist that H. had stopped
at Chickut, but I knew very well that he had gone on. I then told him
what I had said to him before we started. We had some cold soup we
brought with us, and shared a small biscuit between us. H. had taken
all the provisions on in front with him.
The road descended more or less steeply from Chickut to Deevaroua, and
at last we came to the Mareb. Here it is a small stream, and rises in
a high mountain about four miles from this place. K. told me that the
ground at the foot of the mountain was swampy, and that there were
springs as well all the year round. This river Mareb is the Gash of
the country in and near Kassala. In its course across the desert to
Kassala its waters are absorbed by the desert sands, but it is a
foaming, muddy torrent during the rains. This is one of the Nile
tributaries of Abyssinia, mentioned in Sir Samuel Baker's book. I wish
I had been able to fix the source of this river exactly, but I had no
instruments or other appliances with which to work; I hope to do this
eventually.
The village of Deevaroua, where we were to stop for the rest of the
night, was on the top of the gorge through which the little stream of
the Mareb runs. A large and most beautiful tree, of the species
_Ficus Indica_, spread its branches near the stream. From this we
drank excellent water, and then went up to the village. After a little
wandering about we found where H. had pitched K.'s tent, which he had
taken on with him; all were asleep and snoring. I had a good mind to
"draw" H., but it was a quarter to eleven, so I let him repose in
peace. K. roused up his Abyssinian cook, Blanche[8] by name, and she
made us some coffee. The servants pitched our tent, and I turned in,
very tired but not exhausted. It has been shrewdly observed of the air
on these hills, that it is "like champagne, minus the headache."
_Jan. 17._--We all took a "long lie" this Sunday morning, it being a
day of rest, and when we did get up we found ourselves encamped near
the village, and close to a little Coptic church. The view was
extensive, while across the table-land, which was intersected by
watercourses that looked like broken ditches, might be seen three
pointed rocky hills which rose up out of this bare plain and formed a
marked feature in the landscape. On the side of one of these hills
nestled the village of Terramnee,[9] which was to be our next halt.
After breakfast we agreed to go and see the Coptic church, so we sent
to the priests to say we were coming to pay them a visit. They replied
in a short time, saying they were ready to receive us, and met us at
the gate of the enclosure which surrounds each of these churches; we
then walked up a narrow path to the church door. The priest and his
two attendants all bowed down and touched the threshold of the church
with their heads before entering; it was a round edifice, with the
usual "extinguisher" roof. A narrow passage runs round the inside of
it between the outer wall and the "holy of holies," the entrance to
which was covered by a sort of ragged curtain. The outside wall of the
"holy of holies" was covered with rude frescoes--St. George and the
Dragon, the Virgin Mary, etc. The Virgin was portrayed with very large
eyes like saucers; St. George was a meek-looking creature, sticking
his spear into the dragon, but looking in an exactly opposite
direction. Rude frescoes, very similar in style, may be seen at the
parish church of Chaldon, near Caterham, in Surrey. As we were coming
away I saw some long stones hung up by grass ropes on a pole,
supported by two short sticks; I asked what they were. They said these
were used instead of church bells. They were musical stones, in fact,
which, when struck, gave out a very pretty sound; they were chosen so
as to make a scale of three notes. We gave the priest a dollar for
the good of the church, at which he seemed pleased and astonished.
At Deevaroua I bought a large cured cowskin, to make sandals for our
servants when we got into the jungle. This I would recommend
travellers to do, as the sharp grass and thorns are too much for even
the horny feet of the Abyssinians, and the cowskin proved of great use
afterwards.
[Illustration: A RACE FOR A SPEAR.
To face page 70.]
About mid-day I started alone with Brou, who was to show me the way to
Terramnee, and to get coolies there to carry on our things to
Koudoofellassie, when we should be out of this province, which we have
had so much difficulty in getting through. I saw a ballaga[10] coming
towards me, the mule he was riding kicking and plunging about as
viciously as ever I saw any animal do. I said to myself, "I must make
the acquaintance of this gentleman;" so I rode up to him and said,
"How d'ye do?" and asked him to let me look at his spear. While I was
looking at it I edged away, then, giving my mule a good kick, galloped
off as hard as I could, spear and all. He was quite taken aback at
first, but soon began chasing me. We had a nice little spurt, but, as
bad luck would have it, one of these watercourses was in front of me,
and the way across it lay to my left, which would bring us almost
together. He saw his chance, and whipped up his mule, who had the legs
of mine, and caught me; I then pulled up, and he asked for his spear.
I delayed a minute or two, and then began laughing. He seemed to
understand the joke, and I gave him back his spear; he told Brou, who
was following after me, that he really thought I meant to take it away
from him. I heard them laughing a little way behind me. Abyssinians
are very cheery fellows, always ready for a joke, provided it does not
touch their pockets.
When we reached Terramnee I sent for the chicker, or head-man of the
village, and they said they would go and fetch him. There was an
assembly of natives in the village, all jabbering at once. I asked
Brou what it was all about, and he said it was a dispute between a man
and his wife; one party takes the wife's part, and another the
husband's; judges are appointed, and they "jaw" away as hard as they
can. Several natives had come in from neighbouring villages about
this. At length, when it was over, they had the civility to attend to
me: the old story--the chicker could not be found; he was in the
fields; they had sent for him, etc. I asked, "Where's his house?" They
showed it me, and I went up to it. The old gentleman was at the bottom
of the hill which I had gone up, and in a friend's house. I told him
I wanted men to carry our things to Koudoofellassie, and he said he
would do his best, but he was not chicker over all the village, and
would send round to the others. H. and K., with luggage and servants,
came up, and then we had a nice row; the chickers vowed they would
have our things carried, but the natives would scarcely obey the
chickers. I called my old friend, whom I had first seen, and told him
that if we did not go on that day I should take him a prisoner to the
chief at Koudoofellassie, in whose province the village of Terramnee
was. Bit by bit our luggage was picked up and carried on; only the
heaviest part of it remained.
The day wore on, and we got more and more impatient. At last the
chicker said, "The people will not obey us; you must go round the
village and beat them up with your servants." The natives were hiding
away in any available corner. H. and I went into one house where we
had been told there was a man; the house was quite dark inside, having
no windows or openings of any sort. We struck a lucifer--I do not
suppose they had ever seen one before. H. descried a man in a corner
and pulled him out, but he turned out to be an aged priest, exempt
from doing coolie work. The old fellow was much disturbed, but we
apologised and said we were very sorry, and he retired to his corner
quietly but grumpily. Such visits as these to the houses of the
natives reminded me very much of what is stated of the English
soldiers hunting for rebels in 1798. We managed to get a good number
of the natives unearthed. Directly one was caught he was sent off
under care of one of our servants to where our after baggage was
lying; a package was given him, and he was started for Koudoofellassie
immediately. The only thing that now remained was H.'s large tin case.
Tuckloo, one of the chickers, said there was not a young man left in
the village. I said, "It must be carried, or I tie you to my mule and
take you into Koudoofellassie to the chief." He considered a moment,
and then another man and himself slung it on a pole and carried it
off. H., Fisk, and myself now started "by moonlight alone" for
Koudoofellassie. The road lay across a plain almost all the way, so we
galloped our mules along at a great pace: the old fellow, Belata Keda
Kedan, sent with us to guide us safely through his province, shouting
at us and telling us to take care of the holes as we rode. We raced
into camp about ten P.M., yelling and shouting, being guided by the
light of our fires.
We found the camp pitched and dinner ready; K. had gone in front and
done all this. Borum Braswouldeselassie, the chief of this province,
was waiting by the camp fire for us; a pleasant-looking, middle-aged
man, who had seen good service with the king. He said anything we
wanted we were to ask him for, and he would come the first thing in
the morning and see us again.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] Value about 4_s._ 2_d._
[7] Sunset is at six P.M.
[8] Her Abyssinian name was Desta, which means "happy."
[9] Terramnee means "stones in a row." This is a Tigré word, the name
of one of the large divisions or provinces of Abyssinia.
[10] _Ballaga_ is the Amharic for a farmer, or one who cultivates land
The other three classes in Abyssinia are chiefs, soldiers or followers
of chiefs, and merchants.