A VISIT TO RÁS MAKUNAN OF HARAR, 1893
Project to explore Gállaland—News of Colonel Carrington’s
party—A Bulhár feud—Start from Bulhár—Gadabursi dance to
the English—Esa raid—A rival sportsman—Awálé Yasin breaks
his leg—Native surgery—Adventures with leopards—Following a
wounded leopard by moonlight—A plucky home charge—Exciting
encounter—An oryx hunt—On the Marar Prairie again—Quantities of
game—Arrival at Jig-Jiga, and visit from Abyssinians—Attempted
arrest of the caravan by an Abyssinian general—Exciting
adventure—Arrival of Gabratagli—Character of Banagúsé—A letter
to the Rás—Interviews with Banagúsé—Bertiri complaints against
Abyssinians—An answer from the Rás—Picturesque journey to
Harar—Hospitality of Basha-Basha, an Abyssinian general—Enter
Harar—Meet Signor Felter—First interview with the Rás in
the audience-room—Entertained by Allaka Gobau Desta—My
servant wounded—Meet Count Salimbeni, M. Guigniony, and the
Archbishop of Gállaland—Interviews with the Rás and exchange of
presents—Farewells in Harar—Leave Harar for the Webbe.
In the winter of 1892 I found myself able to undertake a project which
I had long formed,—that of spending my long leave in Somáliland, and
penetrating through the country to explore Gállaland and the sources of
the Juba, five hundred miles inland. Having thought for several years
of undertaking this journey, when I was at last in possession of the
opportunity I had all the arrangements in my head. It occurred to me
that Rás Makunan’s invitation, received by me at Gildessa, might be very
useful, because such a visit would ensure respectful treatment from any
marauding Abyssinian soldiers whose path I might cross on my route
to the Webbe. On the other hand, there was a chance that Rás Makunan
might put obstacles in my way; but as he would get news of my journey
in any case, whether I went to Harar or not, I considered it best to
visit him, and laying before him my project, to trust in his intelligent
co-operation. I, moreover, thought Harar would be an interesting place
to visit, and I knew that Rás Makunan would be glad of such a chance of
exchanging ideas with a British officer. I mentioned my project to the
political authorities, who, though not in a position to use my services,
kindly allowed me to go in from British ports. Eventually I started for
Harar, armed with eighteen Snider carbines, which were my own property,
a letter of recommendation to “all tribes whose countries I might pass
through” drawn up at the Residency, Aden; a note to Rás Makunan from
Signor Cecchi, the Italian Consul-General; and a “round robin” in Arabic,
from Sheikh Mattar of Hargeisa, to all the mullahs, widads, and chiefs of
the Malingúr and Rer Amáden Somális, and of the Geriré Gállas beyond Imé.
The caravan, which I got together at Berbera on this occasion, was the
best equipped and manned that I have ever done work with. The men were
twenty-four picked Somális, all of whom I had had under my command on
many expeditions, and they were chosen from among some two hundred
applicants for this particular trip.
In Aden I bought three Arab trotting camels and at Berbera thirty-three
Somáli baggage camels. I engaged Adan Yusuf as caravan leader and
interpreter, Géli and Hassan as hunters, Dowra Warsama as guide, a cook,
butler, and eighteen camelmen—in all twenty-four men.
To Adan Yusuf I lent a Martini-Henry carbine, my hunters carried my own
spare big-game rifles, and the rest of the men carried two Martini and
eighteen Snider carbines. I took one hundred and fifty rounds of ball
ammunition per man, a box of buckshot cartridges, and a box of blank
ones for firing salutes and signals, and for skirmishing drill. Fifty
rounds per man of the ball ammunition I expended in Bulhár and during the
journey in field-firing at targets.
Organising the caravan at Berbera, I marched to Bulhár, and there
remained a week to drill the men and put them through their target
practice, during which time I was the guest of Mr. Malcolm Jones, the
political officer. While I was at Bulhár Mr. Seton Karr arrived on a
shooting trip, and left for the south-west on the same day; I also
heard that Colonel Carrington of Poona was starting from Zeila into the
Gadabursi country to look for elephants.
My own private weapons were a double four-bore elephant rifle carrying
fourteen drs. of powder and a spherical ball, and weighing twenty-one
pounds; a double eight-bore Paradox, a double .577 Express, all
by Holland and Holland; and a long Lee-Metford magazine rifle, a
Martini-Henry, and a double twelve-bore pistol.
There was a row going on among the coast people while we were at Bulhár.
Near Eil Sheikh, on the shore, fourteen miles west of Bulhár, two men had
fought in the jungle, a man of the Ayyal Gadíd being killed by a man of
the Rer Gédi section of the Ba-Gadabursi Shirdone clan; after the duel
the Shirdone man had run away to his karia.
The whole of the Ayyal Gadíd sub-tribe who were in Bulhár at once
assembled to drive the Shirdone out of the town, and Mr. Jones promptly
shut up five of the slayer’s relatives in the lock-up to prevent their
being lynched. Next day he sent half a dozen police, mounted on fast
camels, to catch the murderer, and in the evening I walked out with my
host to a crowd of Gadíd, who were burying the dead man wrapped up in a
white tobe, and we found that he had already been partly eaten by hyænas
before being brought in, as one fleshless arm-bone was standing out from
under the tobe.
We left Bulhár on 16th February, marched about twelve miles, and camped
at Eil Sheikh, between Elmas Mountain and the sea. We took up eighty
gallons of water at Eil Sheikh for the waterless march of fifty miles
to Kabri Bahr. On the following day I got an _aoul_ buck with the
Martini-Henry while on the march, the meat being very welcome. I saw
a good many oryx and followed a pair of ostriches, but both without
success, the flat-topped _khansa_ bushes being very thick and thorny, and
difficult to get through. We reached Kabri Bahr on the 19th, and Digan on
the evening of the same day.
Here one of Colonel Carrington’s men came into camp from the west, he
having been sent to look for elephants. I sent a note to the Colonel,
whom I had met in India, giving him notice that I was on a trip to the
far interior, and would not therefore interfere with his hunting ground;
and I marched to Ali Maan, where I found the country very much dried up,
and water scarce, owing to a very dry _Jilál_ season and the failure
of the _Dair_ or winter rains. The Rer Nur, Gadabursi, gave a dance
of fifty men, on foot, with spear and shield, in my honour; and, as a
return courtesy, I took a photograph of them. There were two large karias
here. The men professed themselves, as usual all over Somáliland, to be
English _ryots_ (subjects),[35] and they made complaints against their
neighbours, which they wished me to settle. While I was at Ali Maan the
Esa attacked some Gadabursi and killed one of them, and in leaving I
passed a party of young men going out to try and find an Esa to kill, and
so square off the score.
In the Dibiri-Wein country, by a beautiful reed-margined river-bed,
in the wet sand I found the footmarks of a herd of elephants which
had passed about twenty-four hours before. Following these for a mile
I discovered, to my horror, imprinted over them the uncompromising
outline of an European boot! The herd had been followed, not by Colonel
Carrington, but by another traveller. I left these footprints in deep
disgust, without even inquiring the name of their owner, and marching on
in haste I reached Gebili a few days later.
I was riding at noon ahead of the caravan, and had just stopped to look
at some old stone ruins half-buried in rocks and grass, when my guide
Daura ran up and reported, “Awálé is killed,” and when the caravan came
up it was headed by Awálé Yasín strapped on a camel, in great pain,
with his leg broken below the knee, the tibia sticking out of the flesh
for two or three inches. He had been fixing a loose load when the camel
had fallen on him, crushing his leg. I gave him chlorodyne to try and
alleviate the pain. Then as we neared the camp we lifted him off the
camel, and four men bore him down the steep descent of fifty feet to the
Gebili watercourse, to the south of which I pitched my tent. Following a
sheep track, we soon found a few shepherds of the Jibril Abokr, who were
returning from watering their flocks. They sent a mounted messenger to
their karias, lying ten miles to the south, and next morning a native
expert at bone-setting arrived on the scene. I explained I was not a
doctor, and that the sick man might choose between us; and he chose
the Somáli, while I stood by to help and to see fair-play. I am not
responsible for the following method:—
First they washed the leg with warm water. There was a gash some two
inches wide, where the bone had come through. The limb was pulled
violently to get it straight, and the knee was then bent till the calf
pushed against the back of the thigh; more pulling was done to get the
broken bones in a straight line, and then the bandaging began.
Cutting a tobe into strips we wound it round and round the bent leg, a
neat hole being made with the point of a spear wherever the bandage came
over the gash in the flesh, so as to keep the wound exposed and thus
allow of future inspection. The whole of the bandage was covered with
_subug_, or clarified butter, as the work progressed.
Over the tobe bandage was wound a final wrapping of soft _keirán_
leather. The whole of this dressing was to remain on for seven days, and
then to be opened; if the bones had not joined at the end of that time
they were to be reset by the aid of a wooden splint. If they had joined,
a light bandage would be again put on, and in a month he should be able
to walk.
Awálé bore the pain without a sound, under circumstances which would
probably have caused an Asiatic or European to yell, and next day I
sent him off to the Jibril Abokr karias strapped on a camel, with about
two months’ rations of rice and dates, and plenty of cloth to buy more;
but it afterwards transpired that the _hákim_, native-like, had bolted
with the whole of this and left Awálé to shift for himself. However, he
managed to get attended to by a good Samaritan from a passing caravan, in
the shape of a distant relation, who took him to Berbera, where I found
him four months afterwards; he was then able to walk, but rather lame.
A broken leg may not seem a great matter, but happening away from any
transport except a baggage camel, and perhaps miles away from water in an
uninhabited wilderness, it becomes a terrible misfortune.
I went out for a stroll on the evening of 1st March from Camp Gebili,
quite alone, and walked along the sandy river-bed, which is surrounded
by rocky and bush-covered country; and here I saw a hyæna rolling about
in the sand, one hundred and fifty yards away; and pitching up my rifle
I hit him, breaking his back, and walking up I finished his violent
struggles with a ball from my pistol. As I reached my tent a large
panther was heard coughing in the jungle to the east, no doubt prowling
round camp looking for one of my goats; so we tied up a kid a hundred
yards from my tent on the slope of the river bank, and raising a small
screen of thorn branches, I sat up with my hunter Géli, five yards from
the goat, to watch for the panther by the light of the rising moon.
After an hour, just as we had begun to get tired of watching, and were
nodding off to sleep, the panther charged the goat and carried it away.
The loop-hole which we had prepared in our brushwood screen had been too
small, allowing no room laterally for a moving shot.
The panther carried away the kid at a gallop, and we rushed after him in
the moonlight over the rocky ground and scrub, and made him drop it when
he had gone some two hundred yards from camp; we then dragged the carcase
back and secured it in the same place, tying its leg with a stout rope to
a stake hammered into the ground, the rope being smeared with muddy water
to make it less conspicuously white. We also fastened a live goat by the
side of the dead one.
After another wait of half an hour Hassan the Midgán, who sat on my left,
touched me gently and pointed. Looking up I saw a panther’s head five
yards from the goat, gray and ghostlike, and next second in a flash he
had sprung on the live goat’s neck, but finding it fastened to the stake
he let go and bounded on, giving no time for a shot. I searched all next
day in the thick _ergín_ jungle round camp, but failed to put him up, but
we found a cave which had evidently been his lair.
On the next night I again went for a walk along the river-bed alone,
and saw the mate of the hyæna I had killed the night before; but I held
my fire for fear of driving away any panthers or leopards from the
neighbourhood.
I sat up again, and at eight o’clock, while it was still nearly dark,
a large leopard charged the goat at full gallop, and I fired without
looking along the sights, the light being too dim for me to see the
platinum bead. I fired a snap-shot with my eyes thrown upon the bait
as the grey silhouette of the leopard pounced on to it, and pulled the
trigger at random as it for a moment obscured the white form of the
goat; the leopard left the goat struggling and bounded away across the
river. The smoke hung heavily, and even when it had cleared away I could
only make out the white outline of the goat in front, lying in its death
throes; beyond that the black silhouette of the bush-covered hill, and
the white light in the sky which would soon be replaced by the disc of
the rising moon. I distinctly heard the leopard spring up the hill on the
other side of the river; and then she stopped, growling at intervals, and
evidently badly wounded, for I could hear the cracking branches of the
thorn bushes and the sound of displaced stones as she rolled about.
I went to camp and fetched a lantern and several men; and taking up
the tracks, holding the lantern close to the ground, we found a great
deal of blood and shreds of her stomach which had been dropped as she
had galloped across the river-bed. We held a whispered conference, and
decided that if we waited till the morning to follow her up, with this
fearful wound she might die in the night and hyænas would spoil the
skin. Several men then began throwing small stones up on to the hillside
amongst the bushes where we thought she must be lying, but she refused to
show her hiding-place.
The Somális offered to form line and drive her out by the light of
the moon. I tried to show them the foolhardiness of this; but as they
were bent on it, and further hesitation on my part would have been
misinterpreted, I arranged a line of twelve men with Snider carbines,
and placing myself at its head, we cautiously worked up the hillside.
The leopard was very quiet now, and gave no sign. The moon was getting
brighter, as it had risen well above the horizon clear of the hill and
bushes, shining down into our faces as we ascended.
The men were straggling and would not keep proper line, in spite of my
constant directions. We had made three unsuccessful casts up and down
the hill, when the leopard charged down from the top, with a coughing
roar, right in our faces. The men bunched up round me and I could not
fire,—indeed no one had time to fire. She came down the hill in three
or four tremendous bounds, and the next second her shadowy form had
sprung on Esmán Abdi, who was next to me on the left, and leopard and
man, locked together, rolled down the hill, brushing past my leg. Libán
Gúri, the man on the farther side of Esmán Abdi, placed the muzzle of his
carbine against the leopard’s shoulder, actually singeing the skin, the
bullet passing through the leopard and ricochetting within a few inches
of my foot, scattering the gravel over me; the brute let go Esmán Abdi,
or rather Esmán let go her, for he had had her safe by the throat from
the first; and she rolled over in her last agony, fixing her claws into
everything within reach, until I fired with the muzzle against her ribs
and settled her.
Esmán ran down the hill, and we all followed him, calling out to know how
much he was wounded; and when we overtook him he said he wasn’t running
from the _shabél_, but was very much afraid of our bullets! He was badly
clawed about the arms, but having caught the leopard by the throat in the
first rush, and never let go his hold, he had got off without feeling her
teeth, although he had several abrasions from falling among the rocks.
We took the leopard to my tent and skinned it by firelight, while by the
same fire I dressed Esmán Abdi’s wounds with carbolic oil. The first shot
fired at the leopard as she charged the goat had taken her in the centre
of the belly, and torn quite half of the intestines away, and with this
wound she had waited quietly for us, and had died game!
On the 3rd of March we left Gebili, and at the end of an afternoon march
of three and a half hours halted at noon on the northern edge of the
great Marar Prairie, at Ujawáji, near the spot where I had been mauled
by a lion a few months before. A glorious view lay before us, the row
of conical hills called Subbul rising out of the plain some twenty-five
miles away; and another twenty-five miles beyond could be seen the long
blue line of the Harar Highlands, at the edge of which lay Jig-Jiga the
Abyssinian post by which I must pass before marching to the city of
Harar. By the evening of the 4th of March we had reached Júk, a grassy
bottom in the undulating bush-covered country leading up to Subbul Odli,
which is a dome-shaped hill, the top being two or three hundred feet
above the surrounding ground and some six thousand feet above the level
of the sea. Between Bulhár and Júk the whole country passed over had been
under the influence of a very severe _Jilál_, or dry season, but at Júk
we found that recent rain had fallen, and young grass was just shooting
up all over the plain, the thorn bushes being already a mass of green.
On the evening of our arrival at Júk I left the three trotting camels in
camp and strolled out on foot; I found oryx abundant here, and after a
careful crawl through old high grass, hit two mortally with a right and
left, but, to my sorrow, night closed in while I was following them, and
I had to leave them to die in the bush.
At dawn the next morning the caravan marched on for Subbul Odli, while I
went back on foot with Géli and Hassan to look for the oryx wounded the
night before. I found one, a large cow, still standing, and gave her a
finishing shot; and two or three hundred yards farther I found the other,
a bull, already killed and eaten by hyænas; but the skull, carrying a
very fine pair of horns, I took away, and as much of the meat of the cow
as we could carry.
Soon after overtaking the caravan I started a large herd, followed by
what is perhaps the greatest meat delicacy, a young calf oryx; and as
the meat of the cow was scarcely enough for my followers, I shot him.
At noon we reached Subbul Odli and camped half a mile from the hill,
in open park-like country. There was at the foot of Subbul Odli a
beautiful forest of the _wádi_, a thorn-tree with an upright light gray
or lemon-yellow stem, bare to about ten feet from the ground, and then
spreading out flat at the top into small stems in the form of an inverted
cone. It is a tree of great beauty, and is covered with thorns two or
three inches long. This tree gives out a gum which the Somális eat. It
was now the _Kalíl_, or great heat before the monsoon, and we experienced
the first thunder-storms while at this camp.
Continuing our journey towards Jig-Jiga, I saw immense quantities of
hartebeests on the open plains, one herd containing quite a thousand
individuals, and three herds of about five hundred each; and plenty of
smaller herds and solitary bulls were scattered about near the horizon.
All the game was rather wild, but I shot two buck Sœmmering’s gazelles
by a right and left, as a long line of these animals galloped past me
extended at full speed, the setting sun glancing on their sleek hides;
and we camped where they had fallen, on the short grass of the open
plains, my tent being within half a mile of Gumbur Dug, a small rounded
hillock which takes its name from the _Dúg_, or large gadfly. Four Ayyal
Yunis traders came to me here, to lay before me, as a representative of
the English, complaints against the Abyssinians; and some of the Jibril
Abokr tribe joined us, with their flocks, for protection while passing
the frontier.
[Illustration: HARTEBEEST (_Bubalis swaynei_).]
Marching into Jig-Jiga on the side of rising ground, opposite the
Abyssinian stockaded earthwork, I was promptly visited by a _Shúm_, or
petty officer, and twenty Abyssinian soldiers, who all carried sabres
and Remington rifles. Rumours were afloat that the Abyssinian leader,
Banagúsé, having heard that an English force was marching up to take
Jig-Jiga, was bringing an army against me from his place at Gojar in the
hills. The Bertiri said that the soldiers at Jig-Jiga had been on the
point of leaving in a fright, but that we had come unexpectedly early in
the day, and so caught them in the stockade.
I sat up for a panther in the evening, in a wretched shelter, when it
was pitch dark; and a spotted hyæna charged my goat and took it away
from under my very nose; but the light was too bad for me to fire, and I
returned much disgusted to camp, picking my way home in the dark.
At midnight my caravan leader, Adan Yusuf, woke me up to say that he
had received news that Banagúsé was coming to-morrow with two hundred
soldiers, and had sent for a reinforcement of two hundred more; and that
Banagúsé had said to his people that he would arrest me, whoever I was,
and find out the reason of my coming afterwards.
Accordingly, next morning Banagúsé marched into the Jig-Jiga Valley with
the large escort of nearly four hundred horse and foot, armed chiefly
with Remington rifles. The force was one of organised troops, so far
as the Abyssinian military system goes, and the rifles were superior
to the Snider carbines of my escort. I watched them for many miles
as they advanced over the plain, by the aid of a large astronomical
telescope, which we set up on a tripod in camp. The force halted outside
the Abyssinian zeríba, eight hundred yards from my camp, a dip of open
grass-land, forming the Jig-Jiga Valley, lying between us. Banagúsé
went into the zeríba, the bulk of the soldiers squatting down outside,
gossiping and holding the horses of those Abyssinian chiefs who had been
mounted.
Soon Banagúsé’s headman or _Shúm_, Abadigal, came spurring across the
valley to my camp, mounted on a beautiful gray Abyssinian mare, with a
message to the effect that the great man was “at home” in the zeríba, and
that he had sent for me. Remembering what had been told me of Banagúsé’s
intention to arrest me, I sent back Abadigal to say I would meet Banagúsé
half-way if he would go into the valley with a few men only; and I
pointed out a conspicuous red ant-hill where we might meet. Abadigal soon
returned, saying his master expected me to go to the zeríba, and that he
would wait for me there.
Mounting my Arabian trotting camel, and followed by all my nineteen men,
leaving only one sentry in camp, I rode out to the ant-hill, and sat
there for ten minutes; but Banagúsé not arriving, being tired of the hot
sun, I trotted back again; and on Abadigal coming on one of his frequent
errands across the valley, I sent him to tell Banagúsé that he might go
back to Harar if he liked, but that I should stop where I was, and unless
he behaved civilly I would prefer not seeing him at all; moreover, I
warned him that my men were few, and that if he brought his crowd with
him to my camp I should take it as a hostile act, but that if he came
with only a small party I should be glad to welcome him, and give him a
reception befitting a man of such rank.
I waited another half-hour, and then I saw through the telescope that
the people squatting round the zeríba began to stir, and Banagúsé and
his chiefs came out and formed the whole force into a long line facing
my camp. The chief mounted, and the line began to cross the valley in
my direction; and very picturesque they looked. I longed for a shot at
them with my “Ideal” hand camera, but not anticipating such a subject I
had put in no plates the night before. As they got nearer I could see
the silver-mounted shields and black sheepskin capes of the men, and the
rich trappings of the horses, some of the bridles being hung with rows of
silver dollars, glittering in the sun. Banagúsé rode in the centre on a
white horse, and the line was an irregular formation about two or three
deep. On my right a large crowd of Bertiri Somáli horsemen had assembled
to watch the expected disturbance, and the whole picture was one of the
brightest and most exciting I have ever seen in Somáliland.
I was determined that if Banagúsé wanted to arrest me he would have to
use force; and I knew he could not do this because, after the attempted
arrest of my brother and myself at Gildessa the year before, Rás Makunan
had given strict orders to his frontier generals to treat British
travellers with courtesy; so on the whole I decided that if in the game
of “bluff” I preserved a tolerably firm attitude, Banagúsé would simply
have to give in, and my expedition to Ogádén would be saved from failure.
Calling my men, twenty in all, and forming them into an irregular line,
I went out on foot into the valley to meet Banagúsé, hoping devoutly
that he would halt his people and come on with two or three in a proper
manner. But the Abyssinians continued to advance! I was intensely
annoyed that Banagúsé should insist on bluffing, and we all determined
not to give in. A few seconds only would decide the matter now, as the
array had come to within a hundred and twenty yards, and was every moment
getting nearer. I now ordered my men to lie down, and advancing with two
of them I waved to Banagúsé to come forward to meet me, and to halt his
people. My signs being taken no notice of I blew a whistle, and the men
ran up and formed round me into a rallying group, outer circle kneeling
and inner circle standing, and a cartridge was shoved into the breech of
every rifle. Several of the Abyssinians dropped down ready to fire at a
word from their chief, and my Somális made ready, on the order, to aim at
the little man on the white horse, riding in the middle of the throng.
Banagúsé wheeled his horse quickly and addressed his people. He had at
last been beaten in the game, and a wave passed along the opposing line
which we had been watching with such concentrated interest, and they
all sat down. Banagúsé trotted forward on his white horse, followed by
Abadigal and two others, and I walked towards him with my interpreter,
Adan Yusuf, and two men. Banagúsé took the sheepskins from the shoulders
of the two soldiers and spread them on the ground; and we sat down side
by side on the open plain, near my original ant-hill, the dark Abyssinian
force being eighty yards in front, and my camelmen ten yards behind;
and about a hundred Bertiri horsemen, sitting in the saddle, formed a
picturesque group on my right.
Banagúsé complimented me on my military movements, and asked the reason
of them. I asked why he had advanced with all his force, against my wish,
distinctly made known to him through Abadigal. “Oh!” he said, “this crowd
was brought in your honour; it is the custom.” So, not to be behind him
with a soft answer, I said, “This is also an English custom, to do you
honour;” and so we parted, shaking hands; and I marched back my own men
to my camp, and Banagúsé crossed the valley to his zeríba, followed by
his little army.
In the afternoon an Abyssinian named Gabratagli came to me with a small
escort, having just arrived from Daríma, a village in the Highlands
about a day’s march distant. He was an agent of Menelek, and had been
appointed to inspect routes and regulate caravan fees. He reported that
Rás Makunan had just arrived at Harar after his visit to Shoa, but had
not yet had time to hear of my coming. Gabratagli had, however, heard of
it, and had come in haste from Daríma to bid me welcome to the country
on his own responsibility, as he knew of my correspondence with the Rás
at Gildessa last year, and of Makunan’s wish to know British officers.
Gabratagli behaved with great courtesy, and assured me that Rás Makunan
would be delighted to hear that I had come at last. He said that the
people on the frontier were all mad, and suspicious of the English,
but that now he had come all would go well with me. Gabratagli and his
friends finished my small stock of whisky and cigarettes; and cheered by
the comforts of my table, they became very friendly and communicative.
It appears that Banagúsé is a _Taurari_ or “general commanding the
advance guard.”[36] He is in some ways an able man, and is setting up a
place for himself at the advanced post of Gojar under Gureis Mountain,
just inside the Harar Highlands; and it is said he wishes to found
another Harar there. He has the reputation of being disobedient to his
superiors and tyrannical to the Géri and Bertiri Somális. He is unpopular
in Somáliland, and, if all reports are true, he is not likely to forward
British interests. He is the worst of those who extract cattle from
Somáliland without paying, under the pretence of collecting tribute for
the Emperor; he has made many requisitions on the Habr Awal tribe, which
is under British protection; and, moreover, his raids on the Ogádén
cattle are likely to damage our meat-supply at Aden in the near future.
According to a story which I have heard on fairly good authority,
Banagúsé’s history is as follows:—A few years back, in Shoa, he somehow
incurred the displeasure of the Emperor Menelek, and the latter ordered
that he should be disgraced and punished. When the Abyssinians took
Harar, Banagúsé so distinguished himself that Rás Makunan gave him charge
of Jarso District, in which lies the village of Gojar, commanding the
Hilindéra Pass; and the fort of Jig-Jiga, commanding the Karin Marda
Pass, both of which lead from Berbera and Hargeisa to Harar; he appears,
however, to have done nothing for the country, taking quantities of
horses and cattle away to feed the troops, and exacting double road fees
from Berbera caravans. The Emperor Menelek, who had in the meantime
almost forgotten Banagúsé’s existence, hearing the Somáli complaints,
sent Gabratagli to Daríma to check the caravan fees; so naturally the two
officials were not exactly friends.
Gabratagli was a cheery old man, wearing a tobe, a pair of white calico
drawers, and an immense straw hat. He kept a piece of calico soaked in
butter over his shaven skull, under his hat, “to keep his head cool,” as
he said he was a martyr to neuralgia. He rode a white mule, and had an
athletic soldier, dressed in calico drawers, constantly at hand with his
drinking-cup and a mysterious bottle, which did not contain water. I took
a great liking to this old man.
Gabratagli had travelled much, and had often visited Aden; and he asked
me concerning the health of English officers whom he had met many years
before, whose names I had never heard; and on my admitting this, he
remarked, “If you don’t remember these you must be very young.” Before he
left my camp he sent a mounted messenger to Harar with a letter from me
to the Rás, and he asked me to stay at Jig-Jiga for three or four days
till the answer should have had time to arrive.
It was not till nearly sunset that Banagúsé came over, bringing his
whole force across the valley to my camp. I fired a salute as he came
in, my men being very pleased, and thinking themselves great soldiers
after the morning’s display. I insisted on his halting his people two
hundred yards from camp, and bringing only twenty men with him; and to
show him that I did not like his methods, I ordered my men to squat down
in a circle round the door of my reception tent, and leading Banagúsé
and a few chiefs through a lane of my men, I sat down among them with my
loaded rifle leaning against a chair and my revolver on. The few soldiers
whom Banagúsé brought with him were allowed to wander about the camp at
will, one sentry keeping a watchful eye over them. They treat their long
Remington rifles shamefully, leaning on them with the muzzles half buried
in the earth. Their custom is to keep these rifles loaded while on the
Somáli frontier, but not, I believe, in Harar.
I found Banagúsé very intelligent, and his features are well cut and
regular, very unlike those of the coarse-featured soldiers. I noticed
the Somális have much better features than the Abyssinian soldiers, and
smaller hands and feet. I should think Banagúsé must have Arab blood in
his veins; although polite, he was not at all disposed to be friendly to
me; he knew that I had taken photographs of his stockade on my last visit
while he was away, and complained of him to the British Government.
There was a report in my camp that the force he had collected at Gojar
was getting ready to attack an Italian who was said to have settled
down on the Milmil-Imé route at Sassamani, in Ogádén. At the time I
thought of Prince Ruspoli, but subsequently found that the object of the
attack, which never came off, was to have been Colonel Paget, who had, I
afterwards heard, with great justice restored some looted camels to the
Ogádén while on a shooting trip in their country.
During my interview with Banagúsé, Mahomed Ahmed, the poor Gerád or
sultan of the Bertiri Somális, sat in my tent looking dejected and never
daring to utter a word; it appears his dignity had suffered at the hands
of the Abyssinians during the last few months, he being obliged to “trot
about like a dog” between the karias to fetch cows for the soldiers to
eat. The Gerád was slightly built, and had the intelligent face and
well-cut features of the best kind of Somáli, a great contrast to the
coarse-featured soldiers who were allowed to hector over him. Despite his
old, worn-out tobe he still looked dignified. Before the arrival of these
Abyssinians, who came into the Bertiri country like a swarm of locusts
when they took Harar, the Gerád had been a man of some repute. But the
Abyssinians took away all his power, and he is now of little consequence.
My intercourse with Banagúsé depended on several interpreters; he spoke
Amháric to Gabratagli, who passed it on to my interpreter, Adan Yusuf, in
Arabic, and the latter translated into Hindustáni for my benefit. By the
time a sentence reached me Banagúsé was thinking of something else, so we
did not make much progress.
The Abyssinians preferred tea to coffee; and I noticed Banagúsé rather
craned at his cup, and handed it to a friend first, suspecting poison.
But my headman, Adan Yusuf, full of tact, said quietly, “_Mafish khoff_”
(No fear), and giving a short laugh, he took a long draught from the cup,
and filled it again for the great man.
On 9th March, in the early morning, Banagúsé sent over Abadigal to say
he was leaving for Gojar, and requesting that I would visit him in the
stockade; so posting a sentry in camp I took nineteen of the men in line,
rode across the valley, and drew up at the Abyssinian zeríba. Leaving
most of the men outside I entered with four, passing a sentry who saluted
me by presenting arms in Abyssinian fashion; and walking across the
zeríba, I entered Banagúsé’s hut. Here I found his notables assembled,
all seated on the ground. I was invited to take my place on a raised
platform with Banagúsé, while Adan Yusuf and the other interpreters
squatted in front. Banagúsé was polite, but having little to say, he left
Gabratagli to do all the talking.
After a somewhat embarrassing leave-taking I trotted back to camp on my
camel, and Banagúsé issued from the stockade; and, followed by his army,
he marched over the plain towards Gojar; and looking with my telescope
from camp an hour later, I made them out in the far distance, and it was
pleasant to have seen the last of them.
I was glad to halt at Jig-Jiga for a few days, as the plains were dotted
all over with game. My men were a thoroughly good lot of fellows, and I
was particularly pleased with the way in which they had enabled me to
show a bold front to Banagúsé.
One day I went out into the plains with three or four men, and found
immense herds of hartebeests and Sœmmering’s gazelles; but the day being
windy, they were very shy. The gazelles were always galloping about and
starting the masses of oryx and hartebeests. They would draw up in front
of the larger game, appearing to know that I did not want to fire at
them, sometimes giving me very easy chances. At last, seeing no chance
of the larger game, and being in want of meat, I shot two Sœmmering’s
gazelles right and left, one a very good buck with a thick winter coat;
and on the way to camp I saw a bull hartebeest standing, as he thought,
out of range, some four hundred yards away, so I lay prone and brought
him down with a careful shot from the Martini-Henry.
Returning to camp, I found messengers from one Farur Gerád Hirsi, a
relation of the Bertiri Sultán, who was at his karia two miles away, and
had “pains all over his body,” so he had sent his sons to call me. I gave
him twenty drops of chlorodyne and half a dozen quinine pills, one to be
taken daily. I was received with great enthusiasm by a crowd of some two
hundred of his womenfolk and male relations, all calling out “_Nabad_”
(Welcome). The Gerád said he would have had himself carried to my camp,
but not while the hated Abyssinians remained there. The elders flocked
around me to lay complaints before me of the treatment they had received
from the Abyssinian invaders. They said that Banagúsé was lazy, and did
not administer the country a bit; that he and his mob were neither good
at fighting nor governing, and that the only thing they could do was
bullying the karias for the extraction of cattle, which his soldiers
eat raw. The Gerád told me that ten cows were taken last month from his
karia alone. Another man, Ibrahim Gúri (Rer Ali), lost seventy-six
camels, two hundred sheep, and five huts in one day; and he and his wife
were arrested and taken away by the Abyssinians towards Harar. These are
samples of the arbitrary behaviour of frontier officials.
At night I returned to my camp from the Gerád’s karia, across torrent
beds and wait-a-bit thorns, and learnt the lesson that it is much better
to cross one deep ravine low down than the twenty or more tributary
ravines from which it is formed. We got to camp at last, relieved in our
minds, because the presence of a man-eating lion in this neighbourhood
had made us feel rather uncomfortable when stumbling about amongst the
ravines in the darkness of the night.
Next morning I sent a haunch of venison to Gabratagli, done up with clean
white foolscap paper pinned round it, with a pencil memorandum in English
conveying my compliments, as it seemed to me it would do no harm to be
polite. My armed Somáli camelman who took it seemed to think it a great
joke, and trotted across the half mile of valley to the Abyssinian zeríba
in pouring rain, singing cheerfully; and he returned saying my friend was
delighted, but, my Somáli asked, “Why did I waste my good venison on such
pigs?”
At midday on the 11th came news that Rás Makunan had returned to Harar
from Shoa; and at eight o’clock at night Gabratagli sent over the Rás’s
letter, with an interpreter. The Rás expressed himself very pleased that
I had carried out my promise, made last year, to visit him, and hoped I
would come at once, adding that Gabratagli had received orders to make
all arrangements for my coming.
On the 13th March we left Jig-Jiga and crossed the plains to Hádo,
just inside the Harar Hills; and we camped at Abadigal’s own village.
We had now left the Marar Prairie, inhabited by Somáli nomads, and had
crossed the border of the Harar Hills, descending by the Marda Pass into
undulating country occupied by the cultivating Géri and Bertiri, whose
permanent villages are clustered about everywhere, and are controlled by
Abyssinian magistrates, whose title is _Shúm_.
The _Shúm_ who was my host was Abadigal, Banagúsé’s right-hand man, whom
I had seen lately at Jig-Jiga; he was a good fellow, broad-shouldered
and good-natured, and looked very imposing in his military dress, with
a black sheepskin cape and a long curved sabre; and although the Bertiri
villagers detest the Abyssinian occupation as a principle, Abadigal
enjoys the personal respect of those under him.
The pass by which we entered the mountains is called Karin Marda, and
is very prettily wooded, the road having a greatest elevation of about
six thousand five hundred feet above sea-level. A great change came over
the landscape as we topped the pass. Behind us lay a thickly-wooded
slope descending to the immense Marar Prairie, covered generally with
short grass without a single bush, which is a thousand square miles in
area, and has a greatest length of fifty miles and a greatest breadth of
thirty-six miles, with a mean elevation of five thousand five hundred
feet above sea-level. In front of us, at our feet, the road wound through
picturesque forest for half a mile, and then the whole face of the
country was covered with _jowári_ cultivation and clusters of substantial
villages. Beyond, to the south-west, rose ridge upon ridge of blue hills
and deep valleys, among which, some forty miles away, lay the city of
Harar. To the right towered the tremendous mass of Kondurá (or Kondudo)
to about ten thousand feet, and beyond Harar a similar mass, called Gara
Muláta, shut out the view to the west.
At this season we found the signs of cultivation to consist only of old
stubble; the land was being ploughed up to receive the new seed, the dry
season being nearly at an end and the monsoon rains expected shortly.[37]
Everywhere, in pairs or singly, oxen were drawing the primitive Bertiri
plough, and the country had a peaceful look after the thorn forests and
open grass plains of the nomad Somális, where sheep and camel paths, and
zeríbas, had been almost the only evidences of human occupation.
The _Shúm_ kindly gave me his house, a very substantial dwelling fifteen
feet high and eighteen feet in diameter, made in a circular form, of
stout saplings and _jowári_ stalks, with a beehive-shaped roof of
the same material, covered by ten inches of neat layers of thatched
grass; and altogether it formed as clean, well-built, and comfortable a
dwelling, for the climate, as one could wish. As we got intensely cold
night winds at this elevation (five thousand five hundred feet), I was
glad indeed to exchange my “Cabul” tent for Abadigal’s hut. The state
of the thermometer, which sometimes can go down to 49° and 50° Fahr. in
the early mornings, does not accurately describe the cutting nature of a
Somáli night wind, the more keenly felt when one has been travelling all
day under a burning _Jilál_ sun.
An Abyssinian soldier brought me a present of fifteen fresh hen’s eggs; I
offered payment, but he refused, saying that eggs were of no value, and
a great many good ones were daily thrown away as refuse. Somalis do not
keep fowls, so I was delighted at the change of food.
Mahomed Ahmed, the Gerád of the Bertiri tribe, visited me at Abadigal’s
hut, with the same old story; he said that the Bertiri wished for the
arrival of anybody in European shape who would administer the country
and save them from the Abyssinians. He said, as an inducement, that
any Europeans taking over the country would make plenty of money; he
added that ever since I had come to Jig-Jiga he had been kept on the
run, carrying messages to various villages many miles away, or looking
for cattle, because the Abyssinians wanted to prevent his coming to me.
He had crept to my hut stealthily by night; and of course I warned him
of the danger he exposed himself to. He said that my arrival threw the
Jig-Jiga garrison into a great state of alarm. My friends the Bertiri,
I found, loving to make mischief, had magnified my difficulties with
Banagúsé into a great British victory over the Abyssinians! I believe
that half the Abyssinian suspicion of English designs on the frontier is
due to Somáli gossip.
We set out from Hádo at daylight, and leaving cultivation after an hour,
we descended by a road, bad for camels, into the beautiful valley of
Helmók, camping by the margin of a running stream. This valley, which
leads into the Tug Fáfan to the south-east, is covered with forest and
dense undergrowth, where the latter has not been burnt off by jungle
fires. It has been a favourite resort of elephants and rhinoceroses, but
since the Abyssinians came to Harar their numbers have diminished, and we
only saw the track of one bull rhinoceros, which had come to drink at the
stream two nights before.
Marching from Helmók in the afternoon, we arrived at the village of
Kanyasmatch Basha-Basha, which lies on the saddle between two very
remarkable hills called Eilalami, the village itself being called Bakaka.
To the west of the Eilalami ridge is Feyambiro, and to the east is Bursúm.
The country between Helmók stream and the Eilalami ridge is a beautiful,
well-watered valley, covered with forest, uncultivated and used as
pasture by the Géri and Bertiri flocks at the proper season. The ascent
to the saddle on which Bakaka village stood was steep for camels, and we
wound through this large village after dark, threading our way through
a crowd of Abyssinian, Gálla, and Harari villagers, and yelping pariah
dogs, till we reached Basha-Basha’s house.
The rank of _Kanyasmatch_ may be described as that of General commanding
the right wing of an Abyssinian army. Fi Taurari Banagúsé and Kanyasmatch
Basha-Basha are the two commanders who respectively lead the Abyssinian
advance into the Bertiri and Habr Awal countries to the north, and the
Ogádén to the east.
I was led into a large stockaded enclosure behind Basha-Basha’s house,
where a tent had been prepared for me. This tent was fourteen feet in
diameter across the floor and of bell shape, with perpendicular walls
seven feet high hanging to the ground all round. The centre pole was
twelve feet high, of male bamboo grown, I think, in Abyssinia, and the
material of the tent was a single thickness of American shirting. We had
to wait outside a while, among a crowd of gaping villagers and dogs,
while the tent was being prepared with carpets for my reception. On
entering it I met Basha-Basha, who welcomed me to his village. He was a
little man, sparely built, and had lost his left eye. He had an abrupt,
peremptory way of talking, but he was said to be very popular and to have
a great reputation for straightforwardness, being kind to his inferiors
and “very terrible in war.” Fortunately I had not to test his fighting
powers, but I found him everything that could be wished for as a host,
and he impressed me more favourably than any of the Abyssinians whom I
had met. He apologised for not being in his dress of ceremony on the
ground that he was in mourning; but next day he very kindly condescended
to put on his cape of lion-skin and a black velvet waistcoat covered with
embroidery, to show me the costume. He admired my big-game rifles, being
much delighted with the double four-bore, weighing twenty-two pounds,
which he said was the right gun to kill elephants with. I heard that
Basha-Basha when a child was adopted by the wife of Rás Makunan, and
through this connection with the family of the Rás and his own ability he
had advanced to his present post.
On the 15th I remained all day in Basha-Basha’s tent, occasionally
appearing at the entrance to show myself to the crowd which had come to
see me. In the evening I wanted to go for a walk, so, as an excuse, I
proposed to visit Feyambiro. I had the greatest difficulty in persuading
Basha-Basha and Gabratagli that I was not going to choose the site for
an English fort there. They thought it most extraordinary that I should
want to go for a walk, and Basha-Basha quietly ordered a detachment of
soldiers to go with me! I carried out my intention, going four miles
along a very uninteresting public path covered with people passing to
and fro, between cultivated fields, and we came to a few huts belonging
to a caravan of Berbera traders; and this, I was told, was Feyambiro,
where all caravans from Somáliland unload and change to donkey transport,
leaving the camels to graze at Feyambiro, as the road ahead, over the
twenty-five miles to Harar, winds through deep gorges and is too rough
for camels. Gabratagli asked why I should want to see Feyambiro, when I
would pass it on the morrow while going to Harar. I got the exercise, but
did not enjoy the trip, because I was dogged the whole way by a hundred
Gálla peasants and Abyssinian soldiers.
We set out from Basha-Basha’s on the morning of the 16th March at seven
o’clock. I left all the camels and camp at Feyambiro, taking on with me
only my servants and a little personal baggage, the transport of mules
and porters being supplied free of charge by Gabratagli. Passing over
very hilly country intersected by deep gorges, we arrived at Harar at 2
P.M., being escorted for the last two or three miles by several companies
of the soldiers of the Rás, in clean white dress, to the number, as I
subsequently ascertained, of about a thousand.
As we arrived at the head of each company, the men presented arms in
the Abyssinian way, and were marched off in front or in rear of the
procession according to the place assigned to them, the whole being
under the command of a _Gerasmatch_, or General of the Left.
Near Harar I caught sight of an European white helmet, and was met by
Signor Felter, an Italian merchant, who spoke French fluently, and very
kindly offered to come with me as far as Makunan’s house. Count Salimbeni
and Signor Felter and another gentleman formed the Italian community at
Harar at the time of my visit. The former had represented the Italian
Government, but was shortly leaving for Aden.
I had an interview with the Rás at his audience-house in the centre of
the town, the members of his household and leading men of Harar being
present. The audience-room or shed was decorated with carpets, a raised
dais at one end being reserved for the Rás; an European easy-chair or
two occupied one side of the room, while the natives squatted on their
heels on the carpets. The interview was short, as is the custom on first
meeting, the visitor being supposed to be tired after his journey. Rás
Makunan asked me a few questions about Aden. It seems that he not long
ago went to Rome, where he received a decoration. He is well informed on
European subjects.
After this interview I was taken to the house of Alaka Gobau Desta. He
appeared to be a learned man, and his position in England would have been
something similar to that of a college “Don,” though I think _Alaka_
simply means “chief.” He spoke excellent English, and said he was a
native of Gondar in Abyssinia. In the trimming of his hair and beard he
called to mind pictures of Spanish gentlemen about the time of Queen
Elizabeth. He was formerly in a mission at Zanzibar, where he learnt
English; and he married a Goanese from India, since dead, who could
paint in water-colours, and whose sketches were hanging on the walls of
his house. My friend had furnished it as far as possible in the English
style, and while there I enjoyed the comforts of an English lodging free
of cost, besides good champagne and roast beef cooked by the wife of an
Armenian who works for the Rás. I have nothing but pleasant recollections
of the very graceful and kind hospitality of the Abyssinians at Harar,
and of Signor Felter and his charming wife.
[Illustration: JUNGLE OF “WÁDI” THORN-TREES AND “HIG” ALOES; SUBUL ODLI,
HAUD.
_From a Photograph by the Author._]
My baggage not arriving on the 16th, I rode out five miles, on a mule,
along the road, to look for it. When it at last arrived in the evening,
I found my servant Ibrahim, a Somáli boy of nineteen, had met with an
accident; an angry Abyssinian, armed with a spear, had been chasing his
own servant, when the latter ran to Ibrahim for protection; the aggressor
turned on Ibrahim and threw his spear, and trying to ward off the blow
he received the spear through the palm of his hand. It was a very bad
cut, severing an important vein, so that the hand had been bleeding at
intervals for nearly two days; and Ibrahim arrived in a very weak state.
I complained to the Rás, and the culprit was caught and put into prison,
Ibrahim receiving the small compensation of twenty-five piastres, or
about three rupees. I told the police officials that all my servants
had orders to use their carbines, if necessary, in self-defence, and I
expressed astonishment at Ibrahim’s forbearance.
On 17th March I had a long interview with Rás Makunan, when he expressed
great friendship for the British; and I conveyed to him the kind regards
of General J. Jopp, C.B., Political Resident of Aden, and the Italian
Consul-General Cecchi, and of other officers known to him personally or
by correspondence. After the audience I met Count Salimbeni at dinner at
the house of Signor Felter.
On the following day I called on M. Gabriel Guigniony, a French merchant,
and Monseigneur Taurin Cahagne, officially “Vicaire Apostolique des
Gálla.” He has been many years in the country, and probably knows more
about Gálla history than any man living.
In the afternoon I spent a long time with the Rás, and gave him a
photograph album of Indian scenes, and also a tiger skin mounted on red
cloth. The Rás was very much struck with some of the photographs, which
represented Indian elephants in a “khedda”; and he asked me whether he
could get experts from India to try their hands at taming the African
elephant.
I showed him Sir Richard Burton’s book, _First Footsteps in East Africa_,
which contains such a graphic and true description of Harar, and in which
there is a sketch of the city. Gobau Desta read Burton’s historical
account of Harar to the Rás, translating as he went along; and he said
it was true in every detail. I also showed the Rás my photo of two
rhinoceros heads. He is said to have been a keen hunter, and he sent for
my Express rifle, by Holland, and took down the number, saying he would
like to order one like it to shoot lions with, as “he preferred English
rifles for big game.”
I took a ride with the Italians to Jebel Hákim and round Harar; and in
the evening I dined with M. Guigniony, who proved a charming host.
On the 19th I called on Count Salimbeni, and in the afternoon had another
interview with the Rás. Having come to the city only as a private
visitor, I was careful to steer clear of politics in our conversations.
But the Rás insisted on looking on my visit as partly political, and
seized the opportunity of stating his ideas, through Gobau Desta, to an
English traveller. After the interview I took down notes, from Gobau
Desta’s dictation, concerning Abyssinian ideas, which were read to the
Rás and approved of. He particularly wished me to get them published in
England.
The notes referred chiefly to Abyssinian dealings with foreigners.
It appears that during the last few years Abyssinia has imported immense
quantities of breech-loading firearms, and has become, so far as the
Abyssinian feudal organisation goes, a military Power; and Abyssinians
are beginning to remember that once their country included parts of
Yemen and the Soudán. Since Theodore’s time they have been trying to
gain possession of a seaport, and now they dream of absorbing the
Somáli tribes till they reach the coast, either of the Red Sea, the
Gulf of Aden, or the Indian Ocean. They declare that they will not be
content till they have full control of one of the seaports to which
their merchandise goes, preferably Massáwa, Jibúti, or Zeila. They hint
that now the African coast-line is being divided among the Europeans
the Africans are entitled to their share. The Abyssinians say that the
expeditions which annually advance farther into Ogádén are undertaken for
the purpose of exacting tribute, thus establishing the Abyssinian claim
to suzerainty over the Somáli tribes; and that, if possessed of one of
the northern ports, their Ogádén expeditions would naturally cease.
However impracticable these ideas may sound to Europeans, they seem to
me interesting as showing what are Abyssinian ambitions, and what may be
the mainspring of the eastern movement which began with the absorption of
Harar, formerly a buffer state between Abyssinia and the Somális.
The Abyssinians regard the European Powers with mixed feelings. They
say that they are wishing for the internal improvement of their country
according to European methods, and promise commercial privileges to the
Power which can bring about such improvement. They are, on the other
hand, shy of the word “Protectorate,” and naturally wish to be recognised
for ever as an independent State. Abyssinians claim to have authority as
far as the confines of the Equatorial Province, and even claim lately to
have done something against the Central African slave trade.
According, therefore, to my friend’s statement, Abyssinia would appear
to be the Power on whose progress the future enlightenment of Central
Africa largely depends. My own hopes fall far short of this; for though
enlightened and honourable Abyssinians, of whom Rás Makunan may be taken
as the type, may have high ambitions, yet the ruck of the people, from
the specimens of soldiers whom I saw at Harar, appear to be certainly no
better than the nomad Somális, except in their possession of rifles.
The Rás was unwell on the 19th, and could not see any one. I received
visits from the Archbishop and M. Guigniony. The medium of conversation
with Europeans in Harar was French; curiously enough, the only person
who could speak English fluently was Gobau Desta, the Abyssinian who
generally acted as my interpreter with the Rás.
On 20th March I received a visit from Count Salimbeni, and after dinner I
had a long farewell interview with the Rás, when he gave me the following
presents:—
(1) The Rás’s photograph.
(2) The Rás’s own drinking-cup.
(3) Three other cups of buffalo and rhinoceros horn.
(4) A buffalo-hide officer’s shield decorated with silver.
(5) Two Abyssinian spears.
(6) A gray riding mule and embroidered equipment.
The mule, which was a strong, pretty, and very useful animal, was sent to
Desta’s house for me, and afterwards accompanied me twice to the Webbe.
The interview of the 20th March, which was held at 8 P.M. by lamplight,
was the last I had with the Rás in his house. As it was a farewell visit,
he had sent for his household and elders, and I amused them by showing
the various English positions in use with the match rifle, several
attempting them on the floor of the audience-room.
The Rás again asked me about taming elephants, a subject which appears to
have impressed him. The presents for me were laid out in front of us all
amid a buzz of admiration from the courtiers. I thanked Makunan for them,
and said that it would crown his kindness if he would give me a letter
to his frontier generals providing for my safe passage through districts
occupied by his soldiers. I had the greatest difficulty in getting this
out of him, as his suspicious officers strongly advised him to put
nothing on paper. By insisting, however, I at last got the letter.
On 21st March I called on Wandi, chief of police, as he had sent a
message to say he was sick and unable to come to me. I found him in bed
with fever.
I then had the presentation mule dressed in all its state satin
embroidery, and, myself clothed in a canvas shooting hat, _kháki_ drill
coat, with a high starched collar, drill breeches, and brown leather
Elcho boots, I sat on the mule and went to meet the Rás, who was leaving
for Jarso on an inspection. Riding half a mile down a path, I came on
the usual procession of soldiers, and found the Rás at its head. We
dismounted and bade each other a final good-bye, the Rás going off to
Jarso and I returning to Harar.
In the evening I rode out with the Italians to Jebel Hákim, and visited
some wonderful caves in the limestone rock, which have their openings
in the top of the hill. They are formed by rain-water collecting in
natural pans on the open grass-covered summit and sinking into the hill,
chemically eroding the limestone, and producing immense well-like chasms.
This water finds its way to the surface round the base of the hill,
where good water is always to be found at every mile or so. This hill
overlooks Harar from a distance of about a mile.
On 22nd March I called on an Armenian and his wife who are employed by
the Rás; and after saying good-bye to the Europeans I took the road to
Feyambiro, with my servants and a dozen soldiers who had been told off as
porters to carry my baggage. Felter and Guigniony came some distance to
see me off, the latter riding a beautiful little Abyssinian horse. These
horses are very pretty and graceful, but restive; in shape they resemble
the Arab, and are about fourteen hands high.
My wounded servant was so weak that he had to ride on a mule. Count
Salimbeni had, however, by careful treatment, stopped the bleeding and
put him in a fair way to recovery, though he was still very weak.
I reached Feyambiro on the same day, being entertained by the _Shúm_,
Basha-Gisáo; and while encamped here I had a curious adventure, probably
unique in the annals of camping out. I was, as usual, sleeping on
the ground inside a Cabul tent. After nightfall I was awakened by a
disturbance going on outside, men running to and fro through the camp
and shouting. I ran out and could see nothing at first, it being a dark
night, and the only forms visible were those of my men and camels, which
loomed out against the sky, and they seemed to be all rushing about
wildly. At my tent door I found Adan Yusuf, who said a Bertiri bull had
gone mad and had broken loose from a cattle-shed in the village, and was
charging about through my camp knocking over everything in its way. It
had already knocked over two men. Presently the bull rushed past me; I
could just make it out, but soon lost its form among those of the running
men. I jumped out of the way, and in another charge, having made a circle
among the camels, he came straight back full tilt into my tent! All the
men rushed for the tent, and I followed, and heard cries inside. Coming
up, I saw an Abyssinian soldier run at the tent door with a drawn sword,
and then there was a confused jumble of shouting men and the bellowing
of the bull. Some one at last produced a torch, and a curious scene was
disclosed. The bull had charged through my tent and entangled his head
in the closed back of it, which had been firmly laced up; and Adan Yusuf
had run in and caught him by the horns. The Abyssinian soldiers had then
hamstrung him with sabre cuts and had cut his throat, so that he had
fallen upon my bedding, a pool of clotted blood from his throat standing
an inch high, covering my pillow, blankets, and all my kit. Taking hold
of his hind leg they had then dragged him out by the front door, carrying
the blankets along with him.
The curious part of the adventure was that with all this disturbance of
my kit, two spring candlesticks with their glass globes, which had been
rolling about under the bull’s feet, were uninjured!
On the 23rd I marched to Hado, and was again the guest of Abadigal. We
then marched to Jig-Jiga, where I rejoined part of my caravan which I
had left behind during the Harar visit. After waiting here for two days
to reorganise my expedition, I started for the Jerer Valley on my way to
Ogádén and the Webbe.
[Illustration: ♂ SŒMMERING’S GAZELLE (_Gazella sœmmeringi_).
Length of horns on curve, 16¾ inches.]
[Illustration: Aoul bucks at play]