Part 23

On the morning of the 6th of November, while at breakfast, Bruce received the agreeable intelligence that three servants had arrived from Tigrè; one from Jamai, the Greek, the other two from Ras Michael, both wearing the royal livery. Ras Michael’s letters to the naybe were short. He said the king’s health was bad, and that he wondered the physician sent to him by Metical Aga from Arabia had not been instantly forwarded to him at Gondar, as he had heard of his having been some time at Masuah. He therefore commanded the naybe to despatch the physician without loss of time, and to furnish him with all necessaries.

To these peremptory orders the naybe felt himself compelled to yield obedience; and accordingly Bruce was at length suffered to depart. In order, however, to make one attempt more at murdering the stranger, for which the old man appeared to have acquired a kind of passion, he furnished him with a guide and several attendants, who, it was suspected by the nephew, had received secret orders to cut him off upon the road. To counteract the designs of this worthy old relative, Achmet removed these attendants, and replaced them by servants of his own; and prevailing upon Bruce to proceed by a different route from that recommended by the naybe, for which purpose he supplied him with another guide, he took his leave, saying, “He that is your enemy is mine. You shall hear from me by Mohammed Gibberti.”

Bruce now proceeded over a plain partly covered with groves of acacia-trees, in full flower, towards the mountains, upon the ascent to which he met with considerable numbers of the wild mountain shepherds, descending with their families and flocks to the seashore, drawn thither by the fresh grass which springs up in October and November all along the coast. Their path, from the time they had reached the acclivity, lay over a broken, stony road, along the bed of a mountain torrent; but having reached a small green hill at some distance from the stream, they pitched their tent; and, it being near evening, prepared to pass the night there. The weather, which had hitherto been fine, now seemed to threaten rain. The loftier mountains, and a great portion of the lower ones, were quite hidden by thick clouds; the lightning was very frequent, broad, and deeply tinged with blue; and long peals of thunder were heard at a distance. “The river,” says Bruce, “scarcely ran at our passing it. All on a sudden, however, we heard a noise on the mountains above, louder than the loudest thunder. Our guides upon this flew to the baggage, and removed it to the top of the green hill; which was no sooner done than we saw the river coming down in a stream about the height of a man, and breadth of the whole bed it used to occupy. The water was thickly tinged with red earth, and ran in the form of a deep river, and swelled a little above its banks, but did not reach our station on the hill.”

During this day’s march he first saw the dung of elephants, full of thick pieces of undigested branches; and observed in the tracks through which they had passed several trees thrown down or broken in the middle, while the ground was strewed with half-eaten branches. The wild tribes who inhabited these mountains were a small, active, copper-coloured race, who lived in caves, or cages covered with an ox’s hide, and large enough to hold two persons. Though possessed of numerous herds of cattle, they abstained, like the Brahmins, from animal food, and subsisted entirely upon milk.

For some time after leaving this station their road lay through groves of acacia-trees, the prickly branches of which striking against their faces and hands quickly covered them with blood. They then proceeded through grassy valleys, and over mountains, bleak, bare, and desolate, until they arrived at a place called Tubbo, a picturesque and agreeable station, where they pitched their tent, and remained several hours. The mountains were here very steep, and broken abruptly into cliffs and precipices. The trees were thick, in full leaf, and planted so closely together that they seemed to have been intended for arbours, and afforded abundance of dark cool shade. Their boughs were filled with immense numbers of birds, variegated with an infinity of colours, but destitute of song; others, of a more homely and more European appearance, diverted the travellers with a variety of wild notes, in a style of music still distinct and peculiar to Africa; as different, says Bruce, in the composition from that of our linnet and goldfinch as our English language is from that of Abyssinia. Yet, from frequent and attentive observation, he found that the skylark at Masuah sang the same notes as in England.

The whole country between this and Mount Taranta abounded in game, and more particularly in partridges and antelopes, the latter of which, without exhibiting any signs of fear, moved out of the way to let them pass; or stood still and gazed at them. When they arrived at the foot of the mountain, the difficulties which presented themselves were appalling. The road, if it deserved the name, was of incredible steepness, and intersected almost at every step by large hollows and gullies formed by the torrents, and by vast fragments of rock, which, loosened from the cliffs above by the rains, had rolled down into the chasm through which their path lay. To carry Bruce’s telescopes, timekeeper, and quadrant through such a path as this was by the majority of the party declared to be impossible; and the bearers of the quadrant now proposed to drag it along in a way which would have quickly shattered it to pieces. To prevent so undesirable a catastrophe Bruce himself, assisted by a Moor named Yasine, who, being on his way to Abyssinia, had attached himself to our traveller’s party, undertook the task, and after extraordinary exertions, during which their clothes were torn to pieces, and their hands and knees cut in a shocking manner, they succeeded in placing the instrument in safety, far above the stony parts of the mountain. By this means their companions were shamed into exertion, and every one now striving to surpass the rest, all the instruments and other baggage were quickly got up the steep.

Having accomplished their laborious task, they found themselves too much fatigued to attempt the pitching of their tents; though, had it been otherwise, the scantiness of the soil, which was too shallow to hold a tent-pin, would have prevented them; they therefore betook themselves to the caves which they discovered in the rocks, and there passed the night. Next morning they proceeded to encounter the remaining half of the mountain, which, though steeper, was upon the whole less difficult than the part they had already passed; and in two days came in sight of Dixan, a city built on the summit of a hill, perfectly in the form of a sugar-loaf, surrounded on all sides by a deep valley like a trench, and approached by a road which winds spirally up the hill till it ends among the houses.

The inhabitants of this place enjoyed throughout the country the reputation of superior wickedness, and appeared fully to deserve it; for, whether Christians or Moors, the only traffic in which they were engaged was in children. These were stolen in Abyssinia, frequently by the priests; and being brought to Dixan, were there delivered over to the Moors, who conveyed them to Masuah, from whence they were transported to Arabia or India. Bernier found this trade in active operation in his time; and it has probably subsisted from the earliest ages, since Abyssinian girls have always been in request among the Arabs, while the boys are more valued farther eastward, where they are generally converted into eunuchs.

From Dixan they set forward November 25, and encamped at night under a tree. They had now been joined by about twenty loaded asses and two loaded bulls driven by Moors, who, in consideration of the protection they expected from our traveller, bound themselves by an oath to obey him punctually during the journey, and in case of attack to stand by him to the last. Next morning they proceeded over a plain covered with wheat and Indian corn, and on looking back towards Taranta, beheld its summit capped with black clouds, which emitted vivid streams of lightning, and frequent peals of thunder. Towards noon they encamped at the foot of a mountain, on the top of which was a village, the residence of an Abyssinian nobleman, called the Baharnagash, who, with a very ragged retinue, visited Bruce in his tent. Among the horses of his attendants there was a black one which Bruce desired to possess. When the chief had returned to his village he therefore despatched two persons to him to commence negotiations. The bargain, however, was soon concluded, and the money, about 12_l._, paid in merchandise; but by the time he had reached the encampment, the black horse had been converted into a brown one, which, if he wanted an eye, had the recommendation of great age and experience. This ancient charger was returned, and, after considerable shuffling and equivocation, the genuine black horse, sixteen and a half-hands high, and of the Dongola breed, was obtained. The noble animal, which had been half-starved by the Baharnagash, was named Mirza, and intrusted to the care of an Arab from the neighbourhood of Medina, a man well versed in all equestrian affairs. “Indeed,” observes Bruce, “I might say I acquired that day a companion that contributed always to my pleasure, and more than once to my safety; and was no slender means of acquiring me the first attention of the king.”

Their road now lying through a country into which the Shangalla, whom Bruce terms the ancient Cushites, were in the habit of making incursions, the whole party carefully examined the state of their firearms, and cleaned and charged them anew. In this day’s journey they passed through a wood of acacia-trees in flower, with which was intermingled another species of tree with large white flowers, yielding a scent like that of the honeysuckle; and afterward another wood, so overgrown with wild oats that, like the jungle grass of Bengal, it covered the men and their horses. This plain was perhaps the most fertile in Abyssinia, but, owing to the inveterate feuds of the villages, had long been suffered to lie waste, or, if a small portion were cultivated, the labours of sowing-time and harvest were performed by the peasantry in arms, who rarely completed their task without bloodshed.

Having crossed this plain, they entered a close country covered with brushwood, wild oats, and high grass, rough with rocks, and traversed by narrow difficult passes. At one of these, called the pass of Kella, they were detained three days by the farmers of the customs, who demanded more than they thought proper to pay. During this delay a kind of fair or bazaar was opened in the caravan, to which hundreds of young women from the neighbouring villages repaired, to purchase beads and other articles of African finery; and so eager were they to get possession of these toys, that they could be restrained from stealing them only by being beaten unmercifully with whips and sticks. Of chastity these Abyssinian beauties had no conception, and abandoned themselves to the desires of strangers without so much as requiring a reward.

The next day, after leaving Kella, they discovered in the distance the mountains of Adowa, which in no respect resemble those of Europe, or of any other country. “Their sides were all perpendicular, high, like steeples or obelisks, and broken into a thousand different forms.” On the 6th of December they arrived at Adowa, having travelled for three hours over a very pleasant road, between hedgerows of jessamine, honeysuckle, and many other kinds of flowering shrubs. This town, which was made the capital of Tigrè by Ras Michael, consisted of about three hundred houses, but each house being surrounded by a fence or screen of trees and shrubs, like the small picturesque homesteads which skirt the Ghauts on the coast of Malabar, the extent of ground covered was very considerable, and from a distance the whole place had the appearance of a beautiful grove. Within, however, were crime and wretchedness. The palace of the governor, which was now occupied by his deputy, stood upon the top of the hill, and resembled a huge prison. Upwards of three hundred persons were there confined in irons, some of whom had been imprisoned more than twenty years, solely, in most instances, for the purpose of extorting money from them; but when they had complied with their captor’s demands, their deliverance by no means followed. Most of them were kept in cages like wild beasts, and treated with equal inhumanity.

Here he was received in the most hospitable manner by Janni, the Greek officer of the customs, to whom he had been recommended by the patriarch of Cairo. In this town there was a valuable manufacture of coarse cotton cloth, which circulated instead of silver money throughout Abyssinia. The houses were built with rough stone, cemented with mud instead of mortar—which was used only at Gondar,—and had high conical roofs, thatched with a reedy sort of grass, rather thicker than wheat straw.

From this place he proceeded on the 10th of January, 1770, to visit the ruins of the Jesuits’ convent at Fremona, two miles to the north-east of the town. It resembled a vast fortress, being at least a mile in circumference, and surrounded by a wall, the remains of which were twenty-five feet high, with towers in the flanks and angles, and pierced on all sides with holes for muskets.

Leaving Adowa on the 17th, they arrived next morning at the ruins of Axum, which, extensive as they were, consisted entirely of public buildings. Huge granite obelisks, rudely carved, strewed the ground, having been overthrown by earthquakes or by barbarians, one only remaining erect. Colossal statues of the _latrator anubis_, or dog-star, were discovered among the ruins, evidently of Egyptian workmanship; together with magnificent flights of granite steps, and numerous pedestals whereon the figures of sphinxes were formerly placed. Axum was watered by a small stream, which flowed all the year, and was received into a magnificent basin of one hundred and fifty feet square, whence it was artificially conveyed into the neighbouring gardens.

Continuing their journey through a beautiful country, diversified with hill and dale, and covered so thickly with flowering shrubs that the odours exhaling from their blossoms strongly perfumed the air, they overtook three men driving a cow, and Bruce had an opportunity of witnessing an operation which, on the publication of his travels, was almost universally treated as a fiction. On arriving on the banks of a river, where it was supposed they were to encamp, the three men, who from their lances and shields appeared to be soldiers, tripped up the cow; and as soon as she had fallen, one of them got across her neck, holding down her head by the horns, another twisted the halter about her fore-feet, while the third, who held a knife in his hand, instead of striking at the animal’s throat, to Bruce’s very great surprise got astride upon her belly, and gave her a very deep wound in the upper part of her buttock. He now of course expected that the cow was to be killed, but, upon inquiring whether they would sell a portion of her, was informed that the beast was not wholly theirs, and that therefore they could not sell her. “This,” says the traveller, “awakened my curiosity. I let my people go forward and staid myself, till I saw, with the utmost astonishment, two pieces, thicker and longer than our ordinary beefsteaks, cut out of the higher part of the buttock of the beast. How it was done I cannot positively say; because, judging the cow was to be killed from the moment I saw the knife drawn, I was not anxious to view that catastrophe, which was by no means an object of curiosity: whatever way it was done, it surely was adroitly, and the two pieces were spread on the outside of their shields.”

After this, the skin which covered the wounded part was drawn together, and fastened by small skewers or pins. A cataplasm of clay was then placed over all, and the poor beast, having been forced to rise, was driven on as before. This mode of cutting beefsteaks from a living animal is no doubt extraordinary, but I can see nothing in it that should render it incredible, particularly to persons who make no difficulty in believing that men eat each other, or fasten their own bodies on swings, by hooks driven into the muscles of their backs, and thus suspended, whirl round in indescribable agony for the amusement of the bystanders. Yet this is indubitably done every day in Hindostan. The scorn with which Bruce met the incredulity of his critics was natural and just. But the skepticism of the public has now ceased. In fact, to avow it would be to plead guilty of a degree of ignorance of which few persons in the present day would care to be suspected.

Proceeding on his journey, Bruce learned at Siré that Ras Michael had defeated the rebel Fasil, who had long made head against the royal troops, with the loss of ten thousand men; and this intelligence struck terror into the numerous disaffected persons who were found throughout the country.

On the 26th they crossed the Tacazzè, one of the pleasantest rivers in the world, shaded with fine lofty trees, its banks covered with bushes, inferior in fragrance to no garden in the universe; its waters limpid, excellent, and full of fish, while the coverts on its banks abound with game. It was about two hundred yards broad, and about three feet deep; and in the middle of the ford they met a deserter from Ras Michael’s army, with his firelock on his shoulder, driving before him two miserable girls about ten years old, stark naked, and almost famished to death, the part of the booty which had fallen to his share after the battle. From this wretch, however, they could gain no intelligence.

The country through which they now passed was covered with ruined villages, “the marks,” says Bruce, “of Michael’s cruelty or justice, for perhaps the inhabitants had deserved the chastisement they had met with.” The scenery on all sides was now highly picturesque and beautiful. At Addergey, where they encamped near the small river Mai-Lumi, or the “River of Limes,” in a small plain, they were surrounded by a thick wood in form of an amphitheatre, behind which arose a sweep of bare, rugged, and barren mountains. Midway in the cliff was a miserable village, which seemed rather to hang than to stand there, scarcely a yard of level ground being between it and the edge of the precipice. The wood was full of lemons and wild citrons, from which circumstance it derived its name. Before them, towards the west, the plain terminated in a tremendous precipice.

After a series of disputes with the chief of this village, a malignant, avaricious barbarian, who seems to have designed to cut them off, they proceeded towards Mount Lamalmon, one of the highest points of Abyssinia. On the way they discovered on their right the mountains of Waldubba, inhabited by monks and great men in disgrace. The monks are held in great veneration, being by many supposed to enjoy the gift of prophecy and the power of working miracles. To strengthen their virtue, and encourage them in their austere way of life, they are frequently visited by certain young women, who may be called nuns, and who live upon a very familiar footing with these prophets and workers of miracles. Nay, many of these, says Bruce, thinking that the living in community with this holy fraternity has not in it perfection enough to satisfy their devotion, retire, one of each sex, a hermit and a nun, sequestering themselves for months, to eat herbs together in private upon the top of the mountains.

On the 7th of February they began to ascend the mountains which skirt the base of Lamalmon; and on the next day commenced the climbing of that mountain itself. Their path was scarcely two feet wide in any part, and wound in a most tortuous direction up the mountain, perpetually on the brink of a precipice. Torrents of water, which in the rainy season roll huge stones and fragments of rock down the steep, had broken up the path in many places, and opened to the travellers a view of the tremendous abyss below, which few persons could look upon without giddiness. Here they were compelled to unload their baggage, and by slow degrees crawl up the hill, carrying it a little at a time on their shoulders round those chasms which intersected the road. The acclivity became steeper, the paths narrower, and the breaches more frequent as they ascended. Scarcely were their mules, though unloaded, able to scramble up, and fell perpetually. To enhance their difficulty and danger, large droves of cattle were descending, which, as they came crowding down the mountain, threatened to push their whole party into the gulf. However, after vast toil they at length succeeded in reaching the small plain near the summit, where both man and beast halted simultaneously, perfectly exhausted with fatigue.

The air on Lamalmon was pleasant and temperate, and their appetite, spirits, and cheerfulness, which the sultry poisonous atmosphere of the Red Sea coasts had put to flight, returned. Next morning they ascended the remainder of the mountain, which was less steep and difficult than the preceding portion, and found that the top, which seemed pointed from below, spread into a large plain, part in pasture, but more bearing grain. It is full of springs, and seems, says Bruce, “to be the great reservoir from whence arise most of the rivers that water this part of Abyssinia. A multitude of streams issue from the very summit in all directions; the springs boil out from the earth in large quantities, capable of turning a mill. They plough, sow, and reap here at all seasons; and the husbandman must blame his own indolence, and not the soil, if he has not three harvests. We saw in one place people busy cutting down wheat; immediately next to it others at the plough, and the adjoining field had green corn in the ear. A little farther it was not an inch above the ground.”

On the 15th of February he arrived at Gondar, when, to his extreme vexation, he found that not only the king and Ras Michael, but almost every other person for whom he had letters, was absent with the army. Petros, the brother of Janni, his Greek friend at Adowa, to whom he had been in an especial manner recommended, had at the news of his coming been terrified by the priests, and fled to Ras Michael for instructions. A friend, however, of one of the Moors, whom Janni had interested in his favour, received him kindly, and conducted him to a house in the Moorish town, where he might, he said, remain safe from the molestations of the priests, until he should receive the protection of the government.