HARAR--THE MOSLEM ABYSSINIA--THE TIMBUCTOO OF EAST AFRICA, THE
EXPLORATION OF WHICH HAD BEEN ATTEMPTED IN VAIN BY SOME THIRTY
TRAVELLLERS.
Richard returned up the Red Sea to Egypt, and much enjoyed the rest
and safety for a short time, and then returned to Bombay, his leave
being up; but the wandering fever was still upon him, and as the most
difficult place for a white man to enter was Harar, in Somali-land,
Abyssinia, he determined that that should be his object. It is
inhabited by a very dangerous race to deal with, and no white man had
ever penetrated to Harar. The first white man who went to Abyssinia
was kept prisoner till he died. The East India Company had long wished
to explore it, because Berberah, the chief port of Somali-land, is the
safest and best harbour on the western side of the Indian Ocean--far
better than Aden. They went to work with that strange mixture of
caution and generosity with which they treated those of their servants
who stepped out of what Richard calls their "quarter-deck" routine,
that is, to let him go as a private traveller, and the Government to
give him no protection, but would allow him to retain the same pay that
he would enjoy whilst on leave. Dr. Carter and others refused to do
more than to coast along in a cruiser.
Richard applied for Lieutenant Herne, of the 1st Bombay Fusiliers,
Lieutenant Stroyan, Indian Navy, and Lieutenant Speke, 46th Bengal
Native Infantry. Herne was distinguished by his surveys, photography,
and mechanics on the west coast of India, in Scinde, and on the Punjaub
rivers; Stroyan as amateur surveyor; and Speke, collector of the Fauna
of Tibet and the Himalayas and sportsman. Assistant-Surgeon Ellerton
Stocks, botanist, traveller, and a first-rate man in all ways, died
before the expedition started.
Jealousy, as usual, immediately rose up in opposition. First, Sir
James Outram, Political Resident at Aden, called it a tempting of
Providence, and Dr. Buist, the editor of the _Bombay Times_, was told
to run down the Somali Expedition, in which task he was assisted by the
unpopular chaplain. This was not very gratifying to four high-spirited
men; so, instead of using Berberah as a base of operations, then
westward to Harar, and then south-east to Zanzibar, the Resident
changed the whole scheme and made it fail. Herne was to go to Berberah,
where he was joined later by Stroyan. Speke was to land in a small
harbour called Bunder Guray, and to trace the watershed of the Wady
Nogal, to buy horses and camels, and collect red earth with gold in it;
but his little expedition failed through his guide's treachery. Herne
and Stroyan succeeded. Richard reserved for himself the post of danger.
Harar was as difficult to enter as Mecca. It is the southernmost
masonry-built settlement in North Equatorial Africa. He would go as an
Arab merchant. Harar had never been visited, has its own language, its
own unique history and traditions. The language was unwritten, but he
wrote a grammar, and a vocabulary in which the etymology is given, and
there he had enough savage anthropology to interest him. He writes--
"In the first place, Berberah is the true key of the Red Sea, the
centre of East African traffic, and the only safe place for shipping
upon the Western Erythræan shore, from Suez to Guardafui, backed by
lands capable of cultivation, and by hills covered with pine and other
valuable trees, enjoying a comparatively temperate climate, with a
regular, though thin monsoon. This harbour has been coveted by many a
foreign conqueror. Circumstances have thrown it into our arms, and if
we refuse a chance, another and a rival nation will not be so blind.
[We have since given it away, and kept the far inferior Aden.] We are
bound to protect the lives of subjects on this coast. In 1825 the crew
of the _Mary Ann_ brig was treacherously murdered by the Somal. They
continued in that state, and if to-morrow a Peninsular and Oriental
Company steamer by any chance fell into their power, it would be
the same history. Harar, scarcely three hundred miles distance from
Aden, is a counterpart of the ill-famed Timbuctoo. A tradition exists
that with the entrance of the first Christian, Harar will fall. All
therefore who have attempted it were murdered. It was therefore a
point of honour with me to utilize my title of Haji, by entering this
City, visiting its Ruler, and returning in safety, after breaking the
Guardian's spell."
[Sidenote: _He starts for Harar in Somali-land._]
This exploration of Harar was one of Richard's most splendid and
dangerous expeditions, and, for some reason or other, the least
known; the reason being, as I think, that his pilgrimage to Mecca was
still making a great noise, and that the Crimean War had cropped
up, deadening the interest in all _personal_ adventure. He therefore
thought himself fortunate in being able to persuade Lord Elphinstone,
Governor of Bombay, to patronize an expedition into Somali-land.
He was away four months. The journey was useful; at least, it has
proved so to the Egyptians, to the English, and now to the Italians.
He sailed away, leaving Herne, Stroyan, and Speke, each engaged on his
respective work, and arrived at Zayla.
"My ship companions," he writes, "were the wildest of the wild, and
as we came into port Zayla a barque came up to give us the bad news.
Friendship between the Amir of Harar and the Governor of Zayla had
been broken; the road through the Eesa Somal had been closed by the
murder of Masúd, a favourite slave and adopted son of Sharmarkay;
all strangers had been expelled the City for some misconduct by the
Harar chief; moreover, small-pox was raging there with such violence
that the Galla peasantry would allow neither ingress nor egress. The
tide was out, and we waded a quarter of a mile amongst giant crabs,
who showed gristly claws, sharp coralline, and seaweed so thick as to
become almost like a mat. In the shallower pacts the sun was painfully
hot even to my well-tried feet. I was taken immediately to the
Governor at Zayla, a fellow Haji, who gave me hospitality.
"The well-known sounds of El Islam returned from memory. Again the
melodious chant of the _muezzin_--no evening bell can compare with it
for solemnity and beauty--and in the neighbouring Mosque, the loudly
intoned 'Amin' and 'Allaho Akbar,' far superior to any organ, rang in
my ear. The evening gun of camp was represented by the _nakkarah_, or
kettle-drum, which sounded about seven p.m. at the southern Gate; and
at ten a second drumming warned the paterfamilias that it was time
for home, and thieves and lovers, that it was the hour for bastinado.
Nightfall was ushered in by the song, the dance, and the marriage
festival--here no permission is required for 'native music in the
lines'--and muffled figures flitted mysteriously through the dark
alleys.
* * * * *
"After a peep through the open window, I fell asleep, feeling once
more at home.
[Sidenote: _Preparations at Zayla._]
"I was too much of an Arab to weary of the endless preparations for
forming a caravan. I used to provide myself with a Korán and sit
receiving visitors, and would occasionally go into the Mosque, my
servant carrying the prayer carpet, three hundred pair of eyes staring
at me, and after reciting the customary two-bow prayer, in honour of
the Mosque, I would place a sword and rosary before me, and, taking
the Korán, read the cow-chapter, No. 18, in a loud and twanging voice.
This is the character I adopted. You will bear in mind, if you please,
that I am a Moslem merchant, a character not to be confounded with the
notable individuals seen on ''Change.' Mercator, in the East, is a
compound of tradesmen, divine, and T.G. Usually of gentle birth, he is
everywhere welcomed and respected; and he bears in his mind and manner
that, if Allah please, he may become Prime Minister a month after he
has sold you a yard of cloth. Commerce appears to be an accident, not
an essential, with him, yet he is by no means deficient in acumen.
He is a grave and reverend seignior, with rosary in hand and Korán
on lip; is generally a pilgrim; talks at dreary length about Holy
Places; writes a pretty hand; has read and can recite much poetry;
is master of his religion; demeans himself with respectability; is
perfect in all points of ceremony and politeness, and feels equally at
home whether Sultan or slave sit upon his counter. He has a wife and
children in his own country, where he intends to spend the remnant of
his days; but 'the world is uncertain'--'Fate descends, and man's eyes
seeth it not'--'the earth is a charnel-house;' briefly, his many old
saws give him a kind of theoretical consciousness that his bones may
moulder in other places but his fatherland.
"For half a generation we have been masters of Aden, filling Southern
Arabia with our calicos and rupees--what is the present state of
affairs there? We are dared by the Bedouins to come forth from behind
our stone walls and fight like men in the plain,--British _protégés_
are slaughtered within the range of our guns,--our allies' villages
have been burned in sight of Aden,--our deserters are welcomed and
our fugitive felons protected,--our supplies are cut off, and the
garrison is reduced to extreme distress, at the word of a half-naked
bandit,--the miscreant Bhagi, who murdered Captain Mylne in cold
blood, still roams the hills unpunished,--gross insults are the sole
acknowledgements of our peaceful overtures,--the British flag has been
fired upon without return, our cruisers being ordered to act only on
the defensive,--and our forbearance to attack is universally asserted
and believed to arise from mere cowardice. Such is, and such will be,
the opinion and the character of the Arab!
"I stayed here for twenty-six days, rising at dawn; then went to
the Terrace to perform my devotions, and make observation of my
neighbours; breakfast at six, then coffee, pipe, and a nap; then
receive visitors, who come by dozens with nothing to do or say. When
they were only Somal, I wrote Arabic, or extracted from some useful
book. When Arabs were there, I would recite tales from the 'Arabian
Nights,' to their great delight. At eleven, dinner, more coffee and
pipes; then the natives would go to sleep, and I wrote my journals and
studies. At about two p.m. more visitors would come, and at sunset
again to the Terrace, or walk to a mosque, where games are going on,
or stroll to a camp of Bedawi. The Gates are locked at sunset, and the
keys are carried to the Haji. It is not safe to be without the City
later. Then comes supper.
"After it we repair to the roof to enjoy the prospect of the far
Tajarrah Hills and the white moonbeams sleeping upon the nearer sea.
The evening star hangs like a diamond upon the still horizon; around
the moon a pink zone of light mist, shading off into turquoise blue
and a delicate green-like chrysopraz, invests the heavens with a
peculiar charm. The scene is truly suggestive; behind us, purpling in
the night air and silvered by the radiance from above, lie the wolds
and mountains tenanted by the fiercest of savages, their shadowy
mysterious forms exciting vague alarms in the traveller's breast.
Sweet as the harp of David, the night-breeze and the music of the
water comes up from the sea; but the ripple and the rustling sound
alternate with the hyæna's laugh, and the jackal's cry, and the wild
dog's lengthened howl.
[Sidenote: _Desert Journey._]
"This journey, which occupied nearly four months, was to be through a
savage, treacherous, ferocious, and bloodthirsty people, whose tribes
were in a constant state of blood-feud. The party consisted of nine,
an _abban_ or guide, three Arab matchlock men, two women cooks, who
were called Shehrazade and Deenarzade after the 'Arabian Nights,' a
fourth servant, and a Bedawin woman to drive a donkey, which camels
will follow and which is the custom. We had four or five mules,
saddled and bridled, and camels for the baggage. Every one wept over
us, and considered us dead men. The _abban_ objected to some routes on
account of avoiding tribes with which he had a blood-feud."
This was, as I have said, far the most dangerous of Richard's
explorations, quite as difficult as Mecca, and far more difficult than
anything Stanley has ever done, with his advantages of men, money,
and luxuries. The women seemed to be much hardier than the men; they
carried the pipe and tobacco, led the camels, adjusted the burdens, at
the halt unloaded the cattle, disposed the baggage, covered them with a
mat tent, cooked the food, made tea and coffee, and bivouacked outside
the tent.
He writes--
"The air was fresh and clear; and the night breeze was delicious
after the stormy breath of day. The weary confinement of walls made
the weary expanse a luxury to the sight, whilst the tumbling of the
surf upon the near shore, and the music of the jackal, predisposed to
sweet sleep. We now felt that at length the die was cast. Placing my
pistols by my side, with my rifle butt for a pillow, and its barrel as
a bed-fellow, I sought repose with none of the apprehension which even
the most stout-hearted traveller knows before the start. It is the
difference between fancy and reality, between anxiety and certainty;
to men gifted with any imaginative powers the anticipation must ever
be worse than the event. Thus it happens, that he who feels a thrill
of fear before engaging in a peril, exchanges it for a throb of
exultation when he finds himself hand to hand with the danger."
The description of the journey is filled in his notes by being hindered
and almost captured by Bedawi, lamed with thorns, the camels casting
themselves down from fatigue, famishing from hunger, and, worse, from
thirst--the only water being sulphurous, which affected both man and
beast--and attacks from lions, sleep being disturbed by large ants,
three-quarters of an inch long, with venomous stings. Everywhere
they went, everybody wept over them, as dead men. He finds time,
nevertheless, to remark, that at the height of 3350 feet he found a
buttercup and heard a woodpecker tapping, that reminded him of home. He
describes a sham attack of twelve Bedawi, who, when they saw what his
revolver could do, said they were only in fun.
At one of the kraals he gives an account of how, being surrounded by
Somals, they were boasting of their shooting, and of the skill with
which they used the shield, but they seemed not to understand the
proper use of the sword.
"Thinking it was well to impress them with the superiority of arms, I
requested them to put up one of their shields as a mark. They laughed
very much, but would not comply. The Somal hate a vulture, because it
eats the dead and dying; so, seeing a large brown bare-necked vulture
at twenty paces distance, I shot it with my revolver; then I loaded a
gun with swan-shot, which they had never seen, and, aiming at a bird
that they considered far out of gunshot distance, I knocked it over
flying. Fresh screams followed this marvellous feat, and they said,
'Lo! he bringeth down the birds from heaven.' Their Chief, putting his
forefinger in his mouth, praised Allah, and prayed to be defended from
such a calamity; and always after, when they saw me approach, they
said, 'Here comes the Shaykh who knows knowledge.' I then gave a stick
to the best man; I provided myself in the same way, and allowed him
to cut at me as much as ever he liked, easily warding off the blows
with a parry. After repeated failures, and tiring himself enormously,
he received a sounding blow from me upon the least bony part of his
person. The crowd laughed long and loud, and the knight-at-arms
retired in confusion.
"Every now and then we got into difficulties with the Bedawi, who
would not allow us to proceed, declaring the land was theirs. We
did not deny the claim, but I threatened sorcery, death, and wild
beasts, and foraging parties to their camels, children, and women.
It generally brought them to their senses. They would spit on us for
good luck, and let us depart. Once a Chief was smitten by Shehrazade's
bulky charms, and wanted to carry her off. Once in the evening we came
upon the fresh trail of a large Habr Awal cavalcade, which frightened
my companions dreadfully. We were only nine men and two women, to
contend against two hundred horsemen, and all, except the Hammal and
Long Guled, would have run away at the first charge. The worst of the
ride was over rough and stony road, the thorns tearing their feet and
naked legs, and the camels slipping over the rounded pebbles.
"The joy of coming to a kraal was great, where the Chiefs of the
village appeared, bringing soft speech, sweet water, new milk, fat
sheep and goats, for a _tobe_ of Cutch canvas. We passed a quiet,
luxurious day of coffee and pipes, fresh cream and roasted mutton.
After the great heats and dangers from horsemen on the plain, we
enjoyed the cool breeze of the hills, cloudy skies, and the verdure of
the glades which refreshed our beasts. Here I shot a few hawks, and
was rewarded with loud exclamations of 'Allah preserve thy hand! may
thy skill never fail thee before the foe.' A woman ran away from my
steam kettle, thinking it was a weapon. They looked upon my sunburnt
skin with a favour they denied to the lime-white face. The Somali
Bedawi gradually affiliated me to their tribes.
"At one village the people rushed out, exclaiming, 'Lo! let us look at
the Kings;' at others, 'Come and see the white man; he is the Governor
of Zayla.' My fairness (for, brown as I am, I am fair to them) and the
Arab dress made me sometimes the ruler of Aden, the Chief of Zayla,
the Haji's son, a boy, an old woman, a man painted white, a warrior in
silver armour, a merchant, a pilgrim, a head priest, Ahmed the Indian,
a Turk, an Egyptian, a Frenchman, a Banyan, a Sheríf, and, lastly, a
calamity sent down from heaven to weary out the lives of the Somal.
Every kraal had its own conjecture.
"On December 9th, I rode a little off my way to visit some ruins,
Darbíyah Kola, or Kola's Fort, so called on account of its Galla
queen. There were once two cities, Aububah, and they fought like the
Kilkenny cats till both were eaten up. This was about three hundred
years ago, and the substantial ruins have fought a stern fight with
Time.
"Remnants of houses cumber the soil, and the carefully built wells are
filled with rubbish. The palace was pointed out to me, with its walls
of stone and clay, intersected by layers of woodwork. The Mosque is
a large, roofless building, containing twelve square pillars of rude
masonry, and the _mihrab_, or prayer niche, is denoted by a circular
arch of tolerable construction. But the voice of the _muezzin_ is
hushed for ever, and creepers now twine around the ruined fane. The
scene was still and dreary as the grave; for a mile and a half in
length all was ruins--ruins--ruins.
"Leaving this Dead City, we rode towards the south-west between two
rugged hills. Topping the ridge, we stood for a few minutes to observe
the view before us. Beneath our feet lay a long grassy plain--the
sight must have gladdened the hearts of our starving mules--and for
the first time in Africa horses appeared grazing free amongst the
bushes. A little further off lay the Aylonda Valley, studded with
graves and dark with verdure. Beyond it stretched the Wady Haráwwah,
a long gloomy hollow in the general level. The background was a bold
sweep of blue hill, the second gradient of the Harar line, and on its
summit, closing the western horizon, lay a golden streak, the Marar
Prairie. Already I felt at the end of my journey.
"It was not an unusual thing in the dusk to see a large animal
following us with quick stealthy strides, and that I, sending a rifle
ball as correctly as I could in the direction, put to flight a large
lion.
"The nearer I got to Harar, the more I was stopped by parties of
Gallas, and some went on to report evil of me, and many threats were
uttered. The 'End of Time' in the last march turned tail. 'Dost thou
believe me to be a coward, O Pilgrim?' 'Of a truth I do,' I answered.
Nothing abashed, and with joy at his heart, he hammered his mule with
his heel, and rode off, saying, 'What hath man but a single life, and
he who throweth it away, what is he but a fool?'"
He gives a good account of elephant-hunting, but they did not get
near any. The water was in some places so hard it raised lumps like
nettle-stings, and they had to butter themselves. At one place the
inhabitants flocked out to stare at them. He fired his rifle by way
of salute over the head of the prettiest girl. The people, delighted,
exclaimed, "Mod! Mod! honour to thee!" and he replied with shouts of
"Kulliban! may Heaven aid thee!"
"When there is any danger a Somali watchman sings and addresses
himself in dialogue, with different voices, to persuade thieves that
several men are watching. Ours was a spectacle of wildness as he
sat before the blazing fire. The 'End of Time' conceived the jocose
idea of crowning me King of the country, with loud cries of 'Buh!
Buh! Buh!' while showering leaves from a gum tree and water from a
prayer-bottle over my head, and then with all solemnity bound on my
turban. I was hindered and threatened in no end of places, and my
companions threatened to desert me, saying, 'They will spoil that
white skin of thine at Harar.' Still I pushed on. The Guda Birsi
Bedawi number ten thousand spears.
"One night we came upon a sheet of bright blaze, a fire threatening
the whole prairie.
"At last came the sign of leaving the Desert. The scene lifted, and we
came to the second step of the Ethiopian highlands. In the midst of
the valley beneath ran a serpentine of shining waters, the gladdest
spectacle we had yet witnessed. Further in front, masses of hill
rose abruptly from shady valleys, encircled on the far horizon by
a straight blue line of ground resembling a distant sea. Behind us
glared the desert. We had now reached the outskirts of civilization,
where man, abandoning his flocks and herds, settles, cultivates, and
attends to the comforts of life.
"We saw fields, with lanes between, the daisy, the thistle, and the
sweet-briar, settled villages, surrounded by strong _abatis_ of
thorns, which stud the hills everywhere, clumps of trees, to which
the beehives are hung, and yellow crops of holcus, or grain. The
Harvest-Home-song sounded pleasant to my ears, and, contrasting with
the silent desert, the hum of man's habitation was music. They
flocked out to gaze upon us, unarmed, and welcomed us. We bathed in
the waters, on whose banks were a multitude of huge Mantidæ, pink and
tender green. I now had ample time to see the manners and customs of
the settled Somali, as I was conducted to the cottage of the Gerad's
pretty wife, and learned the home, and the day, and the food. They
spoke Harari, Somali, Galla, Arabic, and dialects. My kettle seems to
have created surprise everywhere.
"Here the last preparations were made for entering this dreadful
City. All my people, and my camels, and most of my goods, had to be
left here for the return journey, and it was the duty of this Chief
(Gerad) to accompany me. I happened to hear one of them say, 'Of what
use is his gun? Before he could fetch fire I should put this arrow
through him.' I wheeled round, and discharged a barrel over their
heads, which threw them into convulsions of terror. The man I had now
to depend upon was Adan bin Kaushan, a strong wiry Bedawin. He was
tricky, ambitious, greedy of gain, fickle, restless, and treacherous,
a cunning idiot, always so difficult to deal with. His sister was
married to the father of the Amir of Harar, but he said, 'He would as
soon walk into a crocodile's mouth as go into the walls of Harar.'
He received a sword, a Korán, a turban, an Arab waistcoat of gaudy
satin, about seventy _tobes_, and a similar proportion of indigo-dyed
stuff--he privily complained to me that the Hammal had given him but
twelve cloths. A list of his wants will best explain the man. He
begged me to bring him from Berberah a silver-hilted sword and some
soap, one thousand dollars, two sets of silver bracelets, twenty guns
with powder and shot, snuff, a scarlet cloth coat embroidered with
gold, some poison that would not fail, and any other little article
of luxury which might be supposed to suit him. In return he was to
present me with horses, mules, slaves, ivory, and other valuables: he
forgot, however, to do so before he departed.
"Whilst we were discussing the project, and getting on satisfactorily,
five strangers well mounted rode in. Two were citizens, and three were
Habr Awal Bedawi, high in the Amir's confidence; they had been sent to
settle blood-money with Adan. They then told him that I, the Arab, was
not one who bought and sold, but a spy; that I and my party should be
sent prisoners to Harar. Adan would not give us up, falsely promising
to present our salaams to the Amir. When they were gone he told me how
afraid he was, and that it was impossible for him to conduct me to the
City. I then relied upon what has made many a small man Great, my good
star and audacity.
"Driven to bay, I wrote an English letter from the Political Agent
at Aden, to the Amir of Harar, intending to deliver it in person; it
was 'neck or nothing.' I only took what was necessary, Sherwa the son
of Adan, the Bedawi Actidon and Mad Said, and left everything behind
me, excepting some presents for the Amir, a change of clothes, an
Arab book or two, a few biscuits, ammunition, and a little tobacco.
I passed through a lovely country, was stopped by the Gallas, and by
the Habr Awal Bedawi, who offered, if we could wait till sunrise, to
take us into the City; so I returned a polite answer, leading them
to expect that I should wait till eight a.m. for them. I left my
journals, sketches, and books in charge of Adan.
[Sidenote: _He enters the City in Triumph._]
"The journey was hard, and I encountered a Harar Grandee, mounted
upon a handsomely caparisoned mule, and attended by servants. He was
very courteous, and, seeing me thirsty, ordered me a cup of water.
Finally arriving, at the crest of a hill, stood the City--the end
of my present travel--a long, sombre line, strikingly contrasting
with the white-washed towns of the East. The spectacle, materially
speaking, was a disappointment; nothing conspicuous appeared but two
grey minarets of rude shape; many would have grudged exposing three
lives to win so paltry a prize. But of all that have attempted it,
none ever succeeded in entering that pile of stones; the thoroughbred
traveller will understand my exultation, although my two companions
exchanged glances of wonder. Stopping while my companions bathed, I
retired to the wayside and sketched the town. We arrived at three
p.m., and advancing to the gate, Mad Said accosted a warder whom he
knew, sent our salaams to the Amir, saying we came from Aden, and
requested the honour of audience. The Habr Awal collected round me
_inside_ the town, and scowling, inquired why we had not apprised them
of our intention of entering the City; but it was 'war to the knife,'
and I did not deign to answer.
TEN DAYS AT HARAR--THE MOST EXCITING TRIAL OF ALL.
"We were kept waiting half an hour, and were told by the warder to
pass the threshold. Long Guled gave his animal to the two Bedawi,
every one advising my attendants to escape with the beasts, as we
were going to be killed, on the road to this African St. James. We
were ordered to run, but we leisurely led our mules in spite of the
guide's wrath, entered the gate, and strolled down the yard, which was
full of Gallas with spears, and the waiting gave me an opportunity to
inspect the place. I walked into a vast hall, a hundred feet long,
between two long rows of Galla spearmen, between whose lines I had
to pass. They were large half-naked savages, standing like statues,
with fierce movable eyes, each one holding, with its butt end on the
ground, a huge spear, with a head the size of a shovel. I purposely
sauntered down them coolly with a swagger, with my eyes fixed upon
their dangerous-looking faces. I had a six-shooter concealed in my
waist-belt, and determined, at the first show of excitement, to run up
to the Amir, and put it to his head, if it were necessary, to save my
own life.
[Sidenote: _Interview with the Amir._]
"The Amir was like a little Indian Rajah, an etiolated youth about
twenty-four or twenty-five years old, plain, thin bearded, with a
yellow complexion, wrinkled brows, and protruding eyes. His dress was
a flowing robe of crimson cloth, edged with snowy fur, and a narrow
white turban tightly twisted round a tall conical cap of red velvet,
like the old Turkish headgear of our painters. His throne was a
common Indian _kursi_, or raised cot, about five feet long, with back
and sides supported by a dwarf railing; being an invalid, he rested
his elbow upon a pillow, under which appeared the hilt of a Cutch
sabre. Ranged in double line, perpendicular to the Amir, stood the
'Court,' his cousins and nearest relations, with right arms bared
after the fashion of Abyssinia.
"I entered this second avenue of Galla spearsmen with a loud 'Peace
be upon ye!' to which H.H. replying graciously, and extending a hand,
bony and yellow as a kite's claw, snapped his thumb and middle finger.
Two chamberlains stepping forward, held my forearms, and assisted me
to bend low over the fingers, which, however, I did not kiss, being
naturally averse to performing that operation upon any but a woman's
hand. My two servants then took their turn: in this case, after the
back was saluted, the palm was presented for a repetition.[1] These
preliminaries concluded, we were led to, and seated upon a mat in
front of the Amir, who directed towards us a frowning brow and an
inquisitive eye.
"I made some inquiries about the Amir's health: he shook his head
captiously, and inquired our errand. I drew from my pocket my own
letter: it was carried by a chamberlain, with hands veiled in his
_tobe_, to the Amir, who, after a brief glance, laid it upon the
couch, and demanded further explanation. I then represented in Arabic
that we had come from Aden, bearing the compliments of our _Daulah_,
or Governor, and that we had entered Harar to see the light of
H.H.'s countenance: this information concluded with a little speech
describing the changes of Political Agents in Arabia, and alluding to
the friendship formerly existing between the English and the deceased
Chief Abubakr.
"The Amir smiled graciously.
"This smile, I must own, was a relief. We had been prepared for
the worst, and the aspect of affairs in the Palace was by no means
reassuring.
"Whispering to his Treasurer, a little ugly man with a baldly shaven
head, coarse features, pug nose, angry eyes, and stubbly beard, the
Amir made a sign for us to retire. The _baisé main_ was repeated,
and we backed out of the audience-shed in high favour. According to
grandiloquent Bruce, 'the Court of London and that of Abyssinia are,
in their principles, one;' the loiterers in the Harar palace-yard, who
had before regarded us with cut-throat looks, now smiled as though
they loved us. Marshalled by the guard, we issued from the precincts,
and, after walking a hundred yards, entered the Amir's second palace,
which we were told to consider our home. There we found the Bedawi,
who, scarcely believing that we had escaped alive, grinned in the joy
of their hearts, and we were at once provided from the Chief's kitchen
with a dish of _shabta_, holcus cakes soaked in sour milk, and thickly
powdered with red pepper, the salt of this inland region.
"When we had eaten, the Treasurer reappeared, bearing the Amir's
command that we should call upon his Wazir, the Gerad Mohammad. We
found a venerable old man, whose benevolent countenance belied the
reports current about him in Somali-land. Half rising, although his
wrinkled brow showed suffering, he seated me by his side upon the
carpeted masonry-bench, where lay the implements of his craft--reeds,
inkstands, and whitewashed boards for paper--politely welcomed me,
and, gravely stroking his cotton-coloured beard, desired to know my
object in good Arabic.
"I replied almost in the words used to the Amir, adding, however, some
details, how in the old day one Madar Faríh had been charged by the
late Sultan Abubakr with a present to the Governor of Aden, and that
it was the wish of our people to re-establish friendly relations and
commercial intercourse with Harar.
"'Khayr Inshallah! it is well, if Allah please!' ejaculated the Gerad.
I then bent over his hand, and took leave.
"Returning, we inquired anxiously of the Treasurer about my servants'
arms, which had not been returned, and were assured that they had
been placed in the safest of storehouses, the Palace. I then sent a
common six-barrelled revolver as a present to the Amir, explaining its
use to the bearer, and we prepared to make ourselves as comfortable
as possible. The interior of our new house was a clean room, with
plain walls, and a floor of tamped earth; opposite the entrance were
two broad steps of masonry, raised about two feet, and a yard above
the ground, and covered with hard matting. I contrived to make upon
the higher ledge a bed with the cushions which my companions used
as _shabracques_, and after seeing the mules fed and tethered, lay
down to rest, worn out by fatigue and profoundly impressed with the
_poésie_ of our position. I was under the roof of a bigoted prince
whose least word was death; amongst a people who detest foreigners;
the only European that had ever passed over their inhospitable
threshold; and, more than that, I was _the fated instrument of their
future downfall_."
He gives a very detailed account of the City of Harar, its inhabitants,
and all he saw during his ten days there, for which I refer people to
"First Footsteps in East Africa," one large volume, 1856. He says--
"The explorer must frequently rest satisfied with descrying from
his Pisgah, the knowledge which another more fortunate is destined
to acquire. _Inside_ Harar, I was so closely watched, that it was
impossible to put pen to paper. It was only when I got back to Wilensi
that I hastily collected the grammatical forms, and a vocabulary which
proves that the language is not Arabic; that it _has_ an affinity with
the Amharic. Harar has its own tongue, unintelligible to any save the
citizens. Its little population of eight thousand souls is a distinct
race. A common proverb is, 'Hard as the heart of Harar.' They are
extremely bigoted, especially against Christians, and are fond of a
religious war, or _jehád_, with the Gallas. They hold foreigners in
hate and contempt, and divide them into two classes, Arabs and Somal.
"The Somals say that the State dungeon is beneath the palace, and
that he who once enters it lives with unkempt beard and untrimmed
nails till the day when death sets him free. There is nothing more
terrible; the captive is heavily ironed, lies in a filthy dungeon, and
receives no food, except what he can obtain from his own family, or
buy or beg from his guards. The Amir has bad health; I considered him
consumptive. It is something in my favour that, as soon as I departed,
he wrote to the acting Political Resident at Aden, earnestly begging
to be supplied with a Frank physician, and offering protection to any
European who might be persuaded to visit his dominions. His rule was
severe, if not just, and it has all the prestige of secrecy. Even the
Gerad Mohammad, even the Queen Dowager, are threatened with fetters if
they offer uncalled-for advice. His principal occupation is spying his
many stalwart cousins, indulging in vain fears of the English and the
Turks, amassing treasure by commerce and cheating.
"The Amir Ahmed is alive to the fact that some State should hedge in
a Prince. Neither weapons nor rosaries are allowed in his presence;
a chamberlain's robe acts as spittoon; whenever anything is given
to or taken from him his hand must be kissed; even on horseback two
attendants fan him with the hems of their garments. Except when
engaged on the Haronic visits, which he, like his father, pays to
the streets and byways at night, he is always surrounded by a strong
body-guard. He rides to Mosque escorted by a dozen horsemen, and a
score of footmen with guns and whips precede him; by his side walks
an officer, shading him with a huge and heavily fringed red-satin
umbrella--from India to Abyssinia the sign of princely dignity. Even
at his prayers, two or three chosen matchlockmen stand over him with
lighted fusees. When he rides forth in public, he is escorted by a
party of fifty men; the running footmen crack their whips and shout,
'Let! Let!' (Go! go!), and the citizens avoid stripes by retreating
into the nearest house, or running into another street.
[Sidenote: _Has Great Success._]
"Immediately on our arrival we were called upon by all sorts of Arabs;
they were very civil to me at first, but when the Amir ceased to send
for me, just as at civilized Courts, they prudently cut me. The moment
the Amir sent for me, my Habr Awal enemies, seeing the tide of fortune
setting in my favour, changed their tactics, and proposed themselves
as my escort to return to Berberah, which I politely refused. They
did me all the harm they could, but my good star triumphed. After one
day's rest, I was summoned to wait upon the Gerad Mohammad, who was
Prime Minister. Sword in hand, and, followed by my two attendants, I
walked to the Palace, and found him surrounded by six counsellors;
they were eating _jat_, which has somewhat the effect of hashish.
"He sat me by his right hand on the dais, where I ate _jat_, being,
fortunately, used to these things, and fingered the rosary. Then
followed prayer, and then a theological discussion, in which,
fortunately, I was able to distinguish myself. My theology won general
approbation and kind glances from the elders. In a very short time I
was sent for by the Amir, and this time was allowed to approach the
outer door with covered feet. I entered as ceremoniously as before,
and the prince motioned me to sit near the Gerad, on a Persian rug to
the right of the throne; my attendants on humble mats at a greater
distance. After sundry inquiries of what was going on at Aden, the
Resident's letter was suddenly produced by the Amir, who bade me
explain its contents, and wished to know if it was my intention to buy
and sell at Harar. I replied, 'We are neither buyers nor sellers; we
have become your guests to pay our respects to the Amir, who may Allah
preserve, and that the friendship between the two Powers may endure.'
The Amir was pleased, and I therefore ventured to hope that the Prince
would soon permit me to return, as the air of Harar was too dry for
me, and that we were in danger of small-pox, then raging in the town,
and through the Gerad, the Amir said, 'The reply will be vouchsafed,'
and the interview was over.
"I sent my salaam to one of the Ulema, Shaykh Jámi; he accepted the
excuse of health and came to see me. He was remarkably well read in
the religious sciences, and a great man at Mecca, with much influence
with the Sultan, and employed on political Missions amongst the
Chiefs. He started with the intention of winning the Crown of Glory by
murdering the British Resident at Aden, but he was so struck with the
order of justice of our rule, he offered El Islam to that officer, who
received it so urbanely, that the simple Eastern, instead of cutting
the Kaffir's throat, began to pray fervently for his conversion. We
were kindly looked upon by a sick and decrepid eunuch, named Sultán. I
used to spend my evenings preaching to the Gallas.
[Sidenote: _Damaging Reports._]
"The Gerad Mohammad was now worked upon by the Habr Awal, my enemies,
to make inquiries about me, and one of the Ayyal Gedíd clan came up
and reported that three brothers[2] had landed in the Somal country,
that two of them were anxiously waiting at Berberah the return of
the fourth from Harar, and that, though dressed like Moslems, they
were really English spies in Government employ, and orders were
issued for cutting off Caravans. We, however, were summoned to the
Gerad's, where, fortunately for me, I found him suffering badly from
bronchitis. I saw my chance. I related to him all its symptoms, and
told him that if I could only get down to Aden, I could send him
all the right remedies, with directions. He clung to the hope of
escaping his sufferings, and begged me to lose no time. Presently
the Amir sent for him, and in a few minutes I was sent for alone.
A long conversation ensued about the state of Aden, of Zayla, of
Berberah, and of Stamboul. The Chief put a variety of questions about
Arabia, and every object there; the answer was that the necessity of
commerce, confined us to the gloomy rock Aden. He used some obliging
expressions about desiring our friendship, and having considerable
respect for a people who built, he understood, large ships. I took the
opportunity of praising Harar in cautious phrase, and especially of
regretting that its coffee was not better known amongst the Franks.
The small wizen-faced man smiled, as Moslems say, the smile of
Umar;[3] seeing his brow relax for the first time, I told him that,
being now restored to health, we requested his commands for Aden. He
signified consent with a nod, and the Gerad, with many compliments,
gave me a letter addressed to the Political Resident, and requested me
to take charge of a mule as a present. I then arose, recited a short
prayer, the gist of which was that the Amir's days and reign might be
long in the land, and that the faces of his foes might be blackened
here and hereafter, bent over his hand, and retired. Returning to the
Gerad's levée-hut, I saw by the countenances of my two attendants that
they were not a little anxious about the interview, and comforted them
with the whispered word, 'Achha!' (all right!)
"Presently appeared the Gerad, accompanied by two men, who brought
my servants' arms, and the revolver which I had sent to the prince.
This was a _contretemps_. It was clearly impossible to take back the
present; besides which, I suspected some _finesse_ to discover my
feelings towards him. The other course would ensure delay. I told the
Gerad that the weapon was intended especially to preserve the Amir's
life, and, for further effect, snapped caps in rapid succession, to
the infinite terror of the august company. The Minister returned to
his Master, and soon brought back the information that, after a day or
two, another mule should be given to me. With suitable acknowledgments
we arose, blessed the Gerad, bade adieu to the assembly, and departed
joyful; the Hammal, in his glee, speaking broken English, even in the
Amir's courtyard.
"Shaykh Jámi was rendered joyful by the news he told me when I
arrived; he had been informed that in the Town was a man who had
brought down the birds from heaven, and the citizens had been thrown
into a great excitement by my probable intentions. One of the
principal Ulema, and a distinguished Haji, had been dreaming dreams in
my favour, and sent their salaams. My long residence in the East had
made me grateful to the learned, whose influence over the people, when
unbiased by bigotry, is for the good. On January 11th, I was sent for
by the Gerad, and given the second mule; he begged me not to forget
his remedies as soon as I reached Aden, and I told him that I would
start on the morrow. I scarcely had got in, when there were heavy
showers and thunder. When I got up to mount early on Friday morning,
of course a mule had strayed; then Shaykh Jámi would not go till
Monday. Now, as I had been absent from my goods and chattels a whole
fortnight, as the people at Harar are immensely fickle, as you never
know the moment that the Amir may change his mind, for all African
Cities are prisons on a large scale--you enter by your own will, but
you leave by another's--I longed to start; however, the storms warned
me to be patient, and I deterred my departure till next morning.
[Sidenote: _He leaves Harar safely._]
"Long before dawn on Saturday, January 13th, the mules were saddled,
bridled, and charged with our scanty luggage. After a hasty breakfast
we shook hands with old Sultán, the eunuch, mounted and pricked
through the desert streets. Suddenly my weakness and sickness left
me--so potent a drug is joy--and, as we passed the Gates, loudly
salaaming to the warders, who were crouching over the fire inside, a
weight of care and anxiety fell from me like a cloak of lead.
"Yet I had time, on the top of my mule, for musing upon how melancholy
a thing is Success. Whilst failure inspirits a man, attainment reads
the sad prosy lesson that all our glories
'Are shadows, not substantial things.'
Truly said the _sayer_, 'Disappointment is the salt of life'--a
salutary bitter which strengthens the mind for fresh exertion, and
gives a double value to the prize.
"This shade of melancholy soon passed away. We made in a direct line
for Kondura. At one p.m. we safely threaded the Gallas' pass, and
about an hour afterwards we exclaimed, 'Alhamdulillah,' at the sight
of Sagharrah and the distant Marar Prairie. Entering the village,
we discharged our firearms. The men gave cordial _poignées de
mains_--some danced with joy to see us return alive; they had heard
of our being imprisoned, bastinadoed, slaughtered; they swore that
the Gerad was raising an army to rescue or revenge us--in fact, had
we been their kinsmen, more excitement could not have been displayed.
Lastly, in true humility, crept forward the "End of Time," who, as he
kissed my hand, was upon the point of tears.
"A pleasant evening was spent in recounting our perils, as travellers
will do, and complimenting one another upon the power of our star.
"At eight next morning we rode to Wilensi, and as we approached, all
the villagers and wayfarers inquired if we were the party that had
been put to death by the Amir of Harar.
"Loud congratulations and shouts of joy awaited our arrival. The
Kalendar was in a paroxysm of delight; both Shehrazade and Deenarzade
were affected with giggling and what might be blushing. We reviewed
our property and found that the One-eyed had been a faithful steward,
so faithful indeed that he had wellnigh starved the two women.
Presently appeared the Gerad and his sons, bringing with them my
books; the former was at once invested with a gaudy Abyssinian
_tobe_ of many colours, in which he sallied forth from the cottage
the admired of all admirers. The pretty wife, Sudíyah, and the good
Khayrah were made happy by sundry gifts of huge Birmingham ear-rings,
brooches and bracelets, scissors, needles, and thread. The evening as
usual ended in a feast.
"We were obliged to halt a week at Wilensi to feed, for both man and
beast to lay in a stock of strength for the long desert march before
us, to buy onions, tobacco, spices, wooden platters, and a sort of
bread called _karanji_. Here I made my grammar and vocabulary of the
Harari tongue, under the supervision of Mad Said and Ali the poet, a
Somali educated at Harar, who knew Arabic, Somali, Galla, and Harar
languages.
"On January 21st I wanted to start, but Shaykh Jámi appeared with
all the incurables of the country. Nobody can form an idea of the
difficulties that an Eastern will put in your way when you want to
start, and unfortunately in nine cases out of ten the ruses they have
resort to, _do_ prevent your starting. Now, in this case, I decided
that talismans were the best and safest medicines in these mountains.
The Shaykh doubted them, but when I exhibited my diploma as a
Master-Sufi, a new light broke in upon him and his attendants. 'Verily
he hath declared himself this day!' whispered each to his neighbour,
sorely mystified. Shaykh Jámi carefully inspected the document, raised
it reverently to his forehead, muttered prayers, and owned himself my
pupil.
[Sidenote: _A Fearful Desert Journey._]
"Now, however, all my followers had got some reason why they could
not go, so I sauntered out alone, attended only by the Hammal, and,
in spite of the Chief summoning me to halt, I took an abrupt leave
and went off, and entered the Marar Prairie with pleasure. The
truants joined us later on, and we met a party whose Chief, a Somali,
expressed astonishment at our escaping from Harar, told us that the
Berberi were incensed with us for leaving the direct road, advised us
to push on that night, to 'ware the bush, whence the Midjans would
use their poisoned arrows. The Berberi had offered a hundred cows
for our person dead or alive. Then my party sat down to debate; they
palavered for three hours. They said that the camels could not walk,
that the cold of the prairies was death to man, till darkness came on.
Experience had taught me that it was waste of time to debate overnight
about dangers to be faced next day, so I ate my dates, drank my milk,
and lay down to enjoy sweet sleep in the tranquil silence of the
desert. Although I did not know it till after my return from Berberah,
Gerad Adan was my greatest danger. If his plotting had succeeded it
would have cost him dear, but would also have proved fatal to me.
The 23rd of January passed in the same manner, and the explanation
I had with my men was, that on the morrow at dawn I would cross the
Marar Prairie by myself; and we started at dawn on the 24th, giving a
wide berth to the Berberis, whose camp-fires were quite visible at a
distance. As we were about to enter the lands of the Habr Awal, our
enemies, a week would elapse before we could get protection. We had
resolved to reach the coast within the fortnight, instead of which a
month's march was in prospect. Suddenly Beuh appeared, and I proposed
to him that he should escort the Caravans to Zayla, and that I and the
two others who had accompanied me to Harar would mount our mules, only
carrying arms and provisions for four days. I pushed through the land
of our enemies the Habr Awal. In the land we were to traverse every
man's spear would be against us, so I chose the desert roads, and
carefully avoided all the kraals. It was with serious apprehension
that I pocketed all my remaining provisions--five biscuits, a few
limes, a few lumps of sugar. Any accident to our mules, any delay
would starve us; we were traversing a desert where no one would sell
us meat or milk, and only one water-bottle in the whole party.
[Sidenote: _Want of Water._]
"We rode thirty-five miles over awful tracks. Our toil was rendered
doubly dreadful by the Eastern traveller's dread--the demon of Thirst
rode like Care behind us--for twenty-four hours we did not taste
water, the sun parched our brains, the mirage mocked us at every
turn, and the effect was a species of monomania. As I jogged along
with eyes closed against the fiery air, no image unconnected with the
want suggested itself. Water ever lay before me, water lying deep in
the shady well, water in streams bubbling icy from the rock, water in
pellucid lakes inviting me to plunge and revel in their treasures. Now
an Indian cloud was showering upon me fluid more precious than molten
pearl, then an invisible hand offered a bowl for which the mortal part
would gladly have bartered years of life. Then--drear contrast!--I
opened my eyes to a heat-reeking plain, and a sky of that eternal
metallic blue so lovely to painter and poet, so blank and death-like
to us, whose χαλον [Greek: chalon] was tempest, rain-storm, and the
huge purple nimbus. I tried to talk--it was in vain; to sing--in vain;
vainly to think; every idea was bound up in one subject--water.[4]
"As a rule, twelve hours without water in the desert during hot
weather kill a man. We had another frightful journey to the next
water. I never suffered severely from thirst but on this expedition;
probably it was in consequence of being at the time but in weak health
so soon after Mecca. A few more hours and the little party would have
been food for the desert beasts. We were saved by a bird. When we
had been thirty-six hours without water we could go no further, and
we were prepared to die the worst of all deaths. The short twilight
of the tropics was drawing in, I looked up and saw a _katta_, or
sand-grouse, with its pigeon-like flight, making for the nearer hills.
These birds must drink at least once a day, and generally towards
evening, when they are safe to carry water in their bills to their
young. I cried out, 'See, the _katta_! the _katta_!' All revived at
once, took heart, and followed the bird, which suddenly plunged down
about a hundred yards away, showing us a charming spring, a little
shaft of water, about two feet in diameter, in a margin of green. We
jumped from our saddles, and men and beasts plunged their heads into
the water and drank till they could drink no more. I have never since
shot a _katta_.
"With unspeakable delight, after another thirty hours, we saw in the
distance a patch of lively green: our animals scented the blessing
from afar, they raised their drooping ears, and started with us at
a canter, till, turning a corner, we suddenly sighted sundry little
wells. To spring from the saddle, to race with our mules, who now
feared not the crumbling sides of the pits, to throw ourselves into
the muddy pools, to drink a long slow draught, and to dash the water
over our burning faces, took less time to do than to recount. A calmer
inspection showed a necessity for caution; the surface was alive with
tadpoles and insects: prudence, however, had little power at that
time--we drank, and drank, and then drank again. As our mules had
fallen with avidity upon the grass, I proposed to pass a few hours
near the wells. My companions, however, pleading the old fear of
lions, led the way before dark to a deserted kraal upon a neighbouring
hill. We had marched this time about thirty hours _eastward_, and had
entered a safe country belonging to the Bahgoba, our guide's clan.
"There is nothing so dreadful as crossing a country full of blocks
and boulders piled upon one another in rugged steps, and it was such
a ravine, the Splügen of Somali-land, that we had to dismount. To a
laden camel it is almost impossible; the best-fed horses, mules, or
asses, having to perform the work of goats instead of their own, are
worn out by it after a few hours; and this was what I and my party
had to do, and often the boulders were covered with thorns two inches
long, tipped with wooden points as sharp as a needle. After three days
of hard travelling in this way we saw the face of man--some shepherds,
who fled at our approach. We then followed an undulating growth of
parched grass, shaping our course for Jebel Almis, to sailors the
chief landmark of this coast, and for a certain thin blue stripe
on the far horizon,--the sea,--upon which we gazed with gladdened
eyes. That night we arrived at a kraal, unsaddled, and began to make
ourselves comfortable, when we found we had fallen upon the Ayyal
Shirdon, our bitterest enemies. They asked, 'What tribe be ye?' I
boldly answered, 'Of Habr Gerhagis.' Thereupon ensued a war of words;
they rudely insisted on knowing what had taken us to Harar, when a
warrior armed with two spears came forward, recognized the 'End of
Time,' and they retired but spoke of fighting. So we made ready with
our weapons and bade them come on; but while they were considering,
we saddled our mules and rode off. We stopped at three villages, and
the Hammal failed to obtain even a drop of water from his relations.
It was most distressful, as men and beasts were faint from thirst,
so I determined to push forward for water that night. Many times the
animals stopped,--a mute hint that they could go no further;--but
_I_ pushed on, and the rest had learned to follow without a word.
The moon arose, and still we tottered on. About midnight--delightful
sound!--the murmur of the distant sea. Revived by the music, we pushed
on more cheerily. At three in the morning we found some holes which
supplied us with bitter water, truly delicious after fifteen hours'
thirst. Repeated draughts of this element, and coarse stubbly grass,
saved us and our mules. Rain came on, but we slept like the dead.
At six, we resumed our march, going slowly along the seacoast, and
at noon we were able to sit on the sands and bathe in the sea. Our
beasts could hardly move, and slippery mud added to their troubles.
At three p.m. we again got a patch of grass, and halted the animals
to feed; and a mile further some wells, where we again rested them,
watered them, finished our last mouthful of food, and prepared for a
long night march.
[Sidenote: _They reach Berberah--Join Speke, Herne, Stroyan._]
"We managed to pass all our enemies in the dark, and they cursed the
star that had enabled us to slip unhurt through their hands. I was
obliged to call a halt within four miles of Berberah; the animals
could not move, neither could the men, except the Hammal and I, and
they all fell fast asleep on the stones. As soon as we could go on,
a long dark line appeared upon the sandy horizon, the silhouettes of
shipping showing against sea and sky. A cry of joy burst from every
mouth. 'Cheer, boys, cheer! our toils here touch their end.' The 'End
of Time' still whispered anxiously lest enemies might arise; we wound
slowly and cautiously round the southern portion of the sleeping town,
through bone-heaps, and jackals tearing their unsavoury prey, straight
into the quarter of the Ayyal Gedíd, our protectors. Anxiously I
inquired if my comrades had left Berberah, and heard with delight that
they were there. It was two o'clock in the morning, and we had marched
forty miles.
"I dismounted at the huts where my comrades were living. A glad
welcome, a dish of rice, and a glass of strong waters made amends for
past privations and fatigue. The servants and the wretched mules were
duly provided for, and I fell asleep, conscious of having performed a
feat which, like a certain ride to York, will live in local annals for
many and many a year.
"Great fatigue is seldom followed by long sleep. Soon after sunrise
I woke, hearing loud voices, seeing masses of black faces, and tawny
wigs. The Berberah people, who had been informed of our five-day ride,
swore that the thing was impossible, that we _had_ never, _could_
never have been near Harar, but were astonished when they found it
was true. I then proceeded to inspect my attendants and cattle. The
former were delighted, having acquitted themselves of their trust;
the poor mules were by no means so easily restored. Their backs were
cut to the bone by the saddle, their heads drooped sadly, their hams
showed dread marks of the spear-point. I directed them to be washed in
the sea, to be dressed with cold-water bandages, and copiously fed.
Through a broad gap, called Duss Malablay, appear in fine weather the
granite walls of Wagar and Gulays, 5700 feet above the level of the
sea. Lieutenant Herne found it would make an admirable sanitarium.
The emporium of Eastern Africa has a salubrious climate, abundance
of sweet water, a mild monsoon, a fine open country, an excellent
harbour, a highly productive soil, is the meeting-place of commerce,
has few rivals, and for half the money wasted on Aden, might have
been covered with houses, gardens, and trees. My companions and I,
after a day's rest, made some excursions. We had a few difficulties
about our _Abans_, or protectors. We did not choose to be dictated
to, so there was a general council of the elders. It took place upon
the shore, each Chief forming a semicircle with his followers,
all squatting on the sand, with shield and spear planted upright
in the ground. I entered the circle sword in hand, and sat down in
their midst. After much murmuring had gone on the Chief asked, in a
loud voice, 'Who is thy protector?' The reply was, 'Burhale Nuh,'
followed by an Arabic speech as long as an average sermon, and then,
shouldering my blade, I left the circle abruptly. It was a success;
they held a peace conference, and the olive waved over the braves of
Berberah. On the 5th of February, 1855, I left my comrades _pro tem._,
and went on board _El Kásab_, or the Reed, the ill-omened name of our
cranky craft, and took with me the Hammal, Long Guled, and the 'End
of Time,' who were in danger, and rejoiced at leaving Berberah with
sound skins. I met with opposition at landing. I could not risk a
quarrel so near Berberah, and was returning to moralize on the fate
of Burckhardt--after a successful pilgrimage refused admittance to
Aaron's tomb at Sinai--when a Bedawin ran to tell us that we might
wander where we pleased.
[Sidenote: _He sails for Aden._]
"The captain of the _Reed_ drew off a great deal further than I
ordered, and when I went down to go on board, the vessel was a mere
speck upon the sea horizon. He managed to cast anchor at last, after
driving his crazy craft through a bad sea. I stood on the shore making
signs for a canoe, but he did not choose to see me till about one p.m.
As soon as I found myself on quarter-deck--
"'Dawwír el farmán!' (Shift the yard!) I shouted, with a voice of
thunder.
"The answer was a general hubbub. 'He surely will not sail in a sea
like this?' asked the trembling captain of my companions.
"'He will!' sententiously quoth the Hammal, with a Burleigh nod.
"'It blows wind,' remonstrated the _rais_.
"'And if it blew fire?' asked the Hammal, with the air _goguenard_,
meaning that from the calamity of Frankish obstinacy there was no
refuge.
"A kind of death-wail rose, during which, to hide untimely laughter,
I retreated to a large drawer in the stern of the vessel, called a
cabin. There my ears could distinguish the loud entreaties of the
crew, vainly urging my attendants to propose a day's delay. Then one
of the garrison, accompanied by the Captain, who shook as with fever,
resolved to act forlorn hope, and bring a _feu d'enfer_ of phrases to
bear upon the Frank's hard brain. Scarcely, however, had the head of
the sentence been delivered, before he was playfully upraised by his
bushy hair and a handle somewhat more substantial, carried out of the
cabin, and thrown, like a bag of biscuit, on the deck.
"The case was hopeless. All strangers plunged into the sea--the
popular way of landing in East Africa--the anchor was weighed, the ton
of sail shaken out, and the _Reed_ began to dip and rise in the yeasty
sea laboriously, as an alderman dancing a polka.
"For the first time in my life I had the satisfaction of seeing the
Somal unable to eat--unable to eat mutton!! In sea-sickness and
needless terror, the Captain, crew, and passengers abandoned to us
all the baked sheep, which we three, not being believers in the Evil
Eye, ate from head to trotters with especial pleasure. That night the
waves broke over us. The 'End of Time' occupied himself in roaring
certain orisons which are reputed to calm stormy seas; he desisted
only when Long Guled pointed out that a wilder gust seemed to follow,
as in derision, each more emphatic period. The Captain, a noted
reprobate, renowned on shore for his knowledge of erotic verse and
admiration of the fair sex, prayed with fervour; he was joined by
several of the crew, who apparently found the charm of novelty in the
edifying exercise. About midnight a _sultan el bahr_, or sea-King--a
species of whale--appeared close to our counter; and as these animals
are famous for upsetting vessels in waggishness, the sight elicited a
yell of terror, and a chorus of religious exclamations.
"On the morning of Friday, the 9th of February, 1855, we hove in
sight of Jebel Shamsan, the loftiest peak on the Aden crater. And ere
evening fell, I had the pleasure of seeing the faces of friends and
comrades once more.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Returns with Forty Men._]
"If I had 'let well alone,' I should have done well; but I wanted
to make a new expedition Nile-wards, _viâ_ Harar, on a larger and
more imposing scale. For that I went back to Aden. On April 7th,
1855, I returned successful. Lieutenant King, Indian Navy, commanded
the gunboat _Mahi_, and entered the harbour of Berberah with us on
board. I was in command of a party of forty-two men, armed, and we
established an agency, and selected the site of our camp in a place
where we could have the protection of the gunboat; but the Commander
of the schooner had orders to relieve another ship, and so could not
remain and superintend the departure of the Expedition. It was the
time after the Fair, and one might say that Berberah was empty, and
that there was scarcely any one but ourselves. Our tents were pitched
in one line--Stroyan's to the right, Herne and myself in the middle,
and Speke on the left. The baggage was placed between our tents, the
camels were in front, the horses and mules behind us. Two sentries
all night were regularly relieved and visited by ourselves. We were
very well received, and they listened with respectful attention to a
letter, in which the Political Resident at Aden enjoined them to treat
us with consideration and hospitality. We had purchased fifty-six
camels; Ogadayn Caravan was anxious for our escort. If we had departed
then, perhaps all would have been well; but we expected instruments
and other necessaries by the mid-April mail from Europe. Three days
afterwards, a craft from Aden came in with a dozen Somals, who wanted
to accompany us, and fortunately I feasted the Commander and the crew,
which caused them to remain. We little knew that our lives hung upon
a thread, and that had the vessel departed, as she would otherwise
have done, the night before the attack, nothing could have saved us.
Between two and three a.m. of April 19th, there was a cry that the
enemy was upon us, three hundred and fifty strong. Hearing a rush of
men, like a stormy wind, I sprang up, and called for my sabre, and
sent Herne to ascertain the force of the foray. Armed with a 'Colt,'
he went to the rear and left of the camp, the direction of danger,
collecting some of the guards--others having already disappeared--and
fired two shots into the assailants. Then finding himself alone, he
turned hastily towards the tent; in so doing, he was tripped up by
the ropes, and, as he arose, a Somali appeared in the act of striking
at him with a club. Herne fired, floored the man, and, rejoining me,
declared that the enemy was in great force and the guard nowhere.
Meanwhile, I had aroused Stroyan and Speke, who were sleeping in the
extreme right and left tents. The former, it is presumed, arose to
defend himself, but, as the sequel shows, we never saw him alive.
Speke, awakened by the report of firearms, but supposing it to be the
normal false alarm--a warning to plunderers--remained where he was;
presently, hearing clubs rattling upon his tent, and feet shuffling
around, he ran to my _rowtie_, which we prepared to defend as long as
possible.
[Sidenote: _They are attacked--A Desperate Fight._]
"The enemy swarmed like hornets, with shouts and screams, intending to
terrify, and proving that overwhelming odds were against us. It was by
no means easy to avoid in the shades of night the jobbing of javelins,
and the long, heavy daggers thrown at our legs from under and through
the opening of the tent. We three remained together; Herne knelt by
my right, on my left was Speke guarding the entrance, I stood in the
centre, having nothing but a sabre. The revolvers were used by my
companions with deadly effect; unfortunately there was but one pair.
When the fire was exhausted, Herne went to search for his powder-horn,
and, that failing, to find some spears usually tied to the tent-pole.
Whilst thus engaged, he saw a man breaking into the rear of our
_rowtie_, and came back to inform me of the circumstance.
"At this time, about five minutes after the beginning of the affray,
the tent had been almost beaten down--an Arab custom, with which we
were all familiar--and had we been entangled in its folds, like mice
in a trap, we should have been speared with unpleasant facility. I
gave the word for escape, and sallied out, closely followed by Herne,
with Speke in the rear. The prospect was not agreeable. About twenty
men were kneeling and crouching at the tent entrance, whilst many
dusky figures stood further off, or ran about shouting the war-cry,
or with shouts and blows drove away our camels. Among the enemy were
many of our friends and attendants; the coast being open to them,
they naturally ran away, firing a few useless shots, and receiving a
modicum of flesh-wounds.
"After breaking through the mob at the tent entrance, imagining
that I saw the form of Stroyan lying upon the sand, I cut my way
with my sabre towards it amongst dozens of Somal, whose war-clubs
worked without mercy, whilst the Balyuz, who was violently pushing
me out of the fray, rendered the strokes of my sabre uncertain.
This individual was cool and collected. Though incapacitated by a
sore right thumb from using the spear, he did not shun danger, and
passed unhurt through the midst of the enemy. His efforts, however,
only illustrated the venerable adage, 'Defend me from my friends.'
I mistook him in the dark and turned to cut him down; he cried
out in alarm. The well-known voice stopped me, and that instant's
hesitation allowed a spearman to step forward, and leave his javelin
in my mouth, and retire before he could be punished. Escaping as by
a miracle, I sought some support. Many of our Somal and servants
lurking in the darkness offered to advance, but 'tailed off' to a man
as we approached the foe. Presently the Balyuz reappeared, and led
me towards the place where he believed my three comrades had taken
refuge. I followed him, sending the only man that showed presence of
mind, one Golab of the Yusuf tribe, to bring back the _Aynterad_ craft
from the Spit into the centre of the harbour. Again losing the Balyuz
in the darkness, I spent the interval before dawn wandering in search
of my comrades, and lying down when overpowered with faintness and
pain. As the day broke, with my remaining strength I reached the head
of the creek, was carried into the vessel, and persuaded the crew to
arm themselves and visit the scene of our disasters.
"Meanwhile, Herne, who had closely followed me, fell back, using the
butt-end of his discharged six-shooter upon the hard heads around
him. In so doing he came upon a dozen men, who, though they loudly
vociferated, 'Kill the Franks who are killing the Somal!' allowed him
to pass uninjured.
"He then sought his comrades in the empty huts of the town, and at
early dawn was joined by the Balyuz, who was similarly employed. When
day broke, he also sent a negro to stop the native craft, which was
apparently sailing out of the harbour, and in due time he came on
board. With the exception of sundry stiff blows with the war-club,
Herne had the fortune to escape unhurt.
"On the other hand, Speke's escape was in every way wonderful.
Sallying from the tent, he levelled his 'Dean and Adams' close to an
assailant's breast. The pistol refused to revolve. A sharp blow of a
war-club upon the chest felled our comrade, who was in the rear and
unseen. When he fell, two or three men sprang upon him, pinioned his
hands behind, felt him for concealed weapons--an operation to which he
submitted in some alarm--and led him towards the rear, as he supposed,
to be slaughtered. There, Speke, who could scarcely breathe from the
pain of the blow, asked a captor to tie his hands before instead of
behind, and begged a drop of water to relieve his excruciating thirst.
The savage defended him against a number of the Somal who came up
threatening and brandishing their spears. He brought a cloth for the
wounded man to lie upon, and lost no time in procuring a draught of
water.
"Speke remained upon the ground till dawn. During the interval he
witnessed the war-dance of the savages--a scene striking in the
extreme; the tallest and largest warriors marching with the deepest
and most solemn tones, the song of thanksgiving. At a little distance
the grey uncertain light disclosed four or five men lying desperately
hurt, whilst their kinsmen kneaded their limbs, pouring water upon
their wounds, and placing lumps of dates in their stiffening hands.[5]
As day broke, the division of plunder caused angry passions to rise.
The dead and dying were abandoned. One party made a rush upon the
cattle, and with shouts and yells drove them off towards the wilds.
Some loaded themselves with goods; others fought over pieces of
cloth, which they tore with hand and dagger; whilst the disappointed,
vociferating with rage, struck at one another and brandished their
spears. More than once during these scenes a panic seized them; they
moved off in a body to some distance; and there is little doubt that,
had our guard struck one blow, we might still have won the day.
[Sidenote: _Richard and Speke desperately wounded._]
"Speke's captor went to seek his own portion of the spoil, when a
Somal came up and asked in Hindostani what business the Frank had in
their country, and added that he would kill him if a Christian, but
spare the life of a brother Moslem. The wounded man replied that he
was going to Zanzibar, that he was still a Nazarene, and therefore
that the work had better be done at once. The savage laughed, and
passed on. He was succeeded by a second, who, equally compassionate,
whirled a sword round his head, twice pretending to strike, but
returning to the plunder without doing damage. Presently came another
manner of assailant. Speke, who had extricated his hands, caught the
spear levelled at his breast, but received at the same moment a blow
which, paralyzing his arm, caused him to lose his hold. In defending
his heart from a succession of thrusts, he received severe wounds
on the back of his hand, his right shoulder, and his left thigh.
Pausing a little, the wretch crossed to the other side, and suddenly
passed his spear clean through the right leg of the wounded man.
The latter, 'smelling death,' then leapt up, and, taking advantage
of his assailant's terror, rushed headlong towards the sea. Looking
behind, he avoided the javelin hurled at his back, and had the good
fortune to run, without further accident, the gauntlet of a score of
missiles. When pursuit was discontinued, he sat down, faint from loss
of blood, upon a sandhill. Recovering strength by a few minutes' rest,
he staggered on to the town, where some old women directed him to us.
Then, pursuing his way, he fell in with the party sent to seek him,
and by their aid reached the craft, having walked and run at least
three miles, after receiving eleven wounds, two of which had pierced
his thighs. A touching lesson how difficult it is to kill a man in
sound health![6] My difficulty was, with my comrades' aid, to extract
the javelin which transfixed my jaws. It destroyed my palate and four
good back teeth, and left wounds on my two cheeks.
"When we three survivors had reached the craft, Yusuf, the Captain,
armed his men with muskets and spears, landed them near the camp,
and ascertained that the enemy, expecting a fresh attack, had fled,
carrying away our cloth, tobacco, swords, and other weapons. The
corpse of Stroyan was then brought on board. Our lamented comrade
was already stark and cold. A spear had traversed his heart, another
had pierced his abdomen, and a frightful gash, apparently of a
sword, had opened the upper part of his forehead. The body had been
bruised with war-clubs, and the thighs showed marks of violence after
death. This was the severest affliction that befell us. We had lived
together like brothers. Stroyan was a universal favourite, and his
sterling qualities of manly courage, physical endurance, and steady
perseverance had augured for him a bright career, thus prematurely cut
off. Truly melancholy to us was the contrast between the evening when
he sat with us full of life and spirits, and the morning when we saw
amongst us a livid corpse.
"We had hoped to preserve the remains of our friend for interment at
Aden. But so rapid were the effects of exposure that we were compelled
most reluctantly, on the morning of the 20th of April, to commit them
to the deep, Herne reading the Funeral Service.
"Then, with heavy hearts, we set sail for the near Arabian shore,
and, after a tedious two days, carried our friends the news of the
unexpected disaster.
"RICHARD F. BURTON."
When Speke wrote the manuscript of this affair, and in _Blackwood_, and
also in his book on the "Sources of the Nile," he said that _he_ was
the Head of the Expedition; _he_ had given the order for the night, it
was before _him_ the spies were brought, _he_ was the first to turn
out, and no one but _he_ had the courage to defend himself. It is
hardly worth while to contradict it. It is obvious that this expedition
could only be commanded by a man who knew Arabic and some of the other
languages, of which he was perfectly ignorant.
So the results of this Expedition, to sum up in short, were, that they
barely escaped being caught like mice in a trap, by having their tents
thrown down upon them, the four fought bravely against three hundred
and fifty Bedawi, poor Stroyan was killed, Herne was untouched, Richard
and Speke were desperately wounded, though they all cut their way
gallantly through the enemy. Poor Speke had eleven wounds, and Richard,
with a lance transfixing his jaws, which carried away four back teeth
and part of his palate, wandered up and down the coast suffering from
his wounds, fever, hunger, and thirst consequent on the wounds; but
they met, they carried off the dead body of their comrade, and were
taken on board the native dhow or boat, which the fortunate accident
of Richard's hospitality had retained there just half an hour, long
enough to save them, and the natives sacked their property. They were
so badly wounded, he had to return to England, and here his wounds
soon healed and he picked up health. He rendered an account of his
explorations before the Royal Geographical Society.[7] After a month's
rest, he obtained leave to volunteer for the Crimea. Here I would
rather give his own original manuscript word for word, because it is so
fresh, and, in a few pages, gives a better insight into outspoken truth
than many other large volumes.
[1] In Abyssinia, according to the Lord of Geesh, this is a mark of
royal familiarity and confidence.
[2] "Speke, Herne, and Stroyan."
[3] "Because it was reported that he had never smiled but once."
[4] I often thought Grant Allen, in the third volume of "The Devil's
Die," drew his account of the journey of Mohammed Ali and Ivan Royle
from Eagle City through the desert to Carthage on the edge of the
desert from Richard's journey from Harar; it is so like it--but he told
me he did not.--I. B.
[5] "The Somal place dates in the hands of the fallen to ascertain the
extent of injury. He that cannot eat that delicacy is justly decided to
be _in articulo_."
[6] "In less than a month after receiving such injuries, Speke was on
his way to England. He never felt the least inconvenience from the
wounds, which closed up like indiarubber."
[7] He began to prepare his public account of Harar in "First Footsteps
in East Africa," one large volume, which, however, did not see the
light till 1856. It might have been called "Harar," to distinguish it
from the trial trip previous to the Great Lake Expedition.