Part 20

This morning there was another row, which at one time really threatened to come to fighting. One of the natives came inside our lines when the men were at work upon the entrenchments. The policeman—a soldier armed with a stick—warned him back; but he refused to go. Having spoken several times, the sentry pushed him. Whereupon the native drew his sword and rushed upon the soldier, who met him, however, with a tremendous blow of his stick, which knocked him backwards into the ditch with a broken head. The man set up his war-cry, and the natives flocked up, shouting and brandishing their spears. They refused to retire when ordered by the officer to do so, and continued to threaten an attack until Colonel Cameron ordered fifty of his men to load and fix bayonets, and told the natives that unless they retired he should order his men to advance. This was sufficient; and the place was speedily cleared. These little fracas, although trifling in themselves, sufficiently show that the natives are an extremely independent race, and are quite ready for a fight upon the smallest provocation. At present we are so strong as to render any open attack upon their part a hopeless proceeding; but when this post is left with only four or five hundred men I should not be at all surprised if the natives came to blows with us upon some trifling matter or other. The three cannon which are to be left here will no doubt have a salutary effect. The natives are astonished at them, and say that they are much bigger than those of Theodore.

Three of the officers of the 4th regiment saw, the other day, at Fokado, an operation which was described by Bruce, but which has been denied by all subsequent travellers, and by the Abyssinians themselves. This was the operation of cutting a steak from the body of a living ox. They came upon the natives just as they were in the act of performing it. The unfortunate bullock was thrown down, and its four legs were tied together. The operator then cut an incision in the skin near the spine, just behind the hip-joint. He blew into this to separate the skin from the flesh, and then cut two other incisions at right angles to the first, and then lifted a flap of skin four or five inches square. From this he cut out a lump of flesh, cutting with the knife under the skin, so that the amount of flesh taken out was larger than the portion uncovered. The operator then filled up the hole with cow-dung, replaced the flap of skin, plastered it up with mud, untied the feet of the poor animal, which had kept up a low moaning while the operation was going on, gave it a kick to make it get up, and the whole thing was over. I should mention that the operator cut two or three gashes in the neighbourhood of the wound, apparently as a sign that the animal had been operated upon in that part. The officers observed that several of the other cattle of the same herd were marked in a precisely similar manner. They returned in half an hour, and found the animal walking about and feeding quietly. I have not mentioned that it bled very little at the time the operation was being performed. It certainly is very singular that, after so many years, Bruce’s story, which has been always considered as a traveller’s tale, should have been confirmed. All travellers have denied it. Mr. Speedy, who was a year among them, tells us that he never saw or heard of its being done, and that the Abyssinians, of whom he had inquired respecting the truth of Bruce’s statement, had always most indignantly denied it, and indeed had asserted that it would be entirely contrary to their religion, for that they strictly keep the Mosaic law, to eat no meat unless the throat of the animal had been cut and the blood allowed to escape. Anatomists have denied the possibility of an animal when such an operation had been performed being able to walk afterwards. Here, however, was the indisputable fact. The operation was performed, and the ox did walk afterwards. It is true that it might not have been done by Abyssinians proper. The party may have been some wandering tribe belonging to the low country who might have come up for trading purposes. It is very unfortunate that neither Mr. Speedy nor any of the interpreters were at hand to find out the exact tribe to which these savages belonged.

I am unable to give you any reliable account of Major Grant’s visit to the King of Tigre. He was, I know, hospitably received, and the horsemen of the King performed various feats, such as riding in and out between poles, and cutting at them; but I am unable to say more, as Sir Robert Napier, no doubt for some good reason of which I am ignorant, refused to allow us to see Major Grant’s report, or to have a _précis_ of it given to us. It is still reported that the King himself is coming to meet the General, and a place two days on our march towards Antalo is mentioned as the appointed place. We even hear that the King has set out from Adowa for that spot; but I confess that until I see his sable Majesty I shall not have much faith in his coming. Still, these very slippery men always do exactly the thing which one would expect that they would not do; and on this theory only it is quite possible that Kassa may appear _in propriâ personâ_. If he does come it will no doubt be a very much more stately affair than the pantomime I described in my last letter, and I hope that our elephants and cannon will open his Majesty’s eyes to the fact that we are a people whom it would be vastly safer to leave alone.

I have been over to-day to the weekly fair at Attegrat. I was also there last Monday, but had no space to give to its description in my last letter. A more amusing sight I have seldom or never seen. Some two or three thousand people must have been present. The fair or market, as I suppose it should be called, is held upon a flat rocky slope on the other side of the village, and this is packed so close that one moves about among the squatting and standing groups with difficulty. At one end is the cattle-fair. The number each grazier brings into market is not large (seldom over two or three), and there they stand in little quiet groups surrounded by their master and several of his friends, and submitting to be felt, pinched, and examined as well as the best-behaved English cow would do. Here, too, are the donkeys, sturdy little beasts, not much bigger than a Newfoundland dog, but which will carry nearly as great a weight as a mule. I wonder our Transport Corps does not buy a lot of them for carrying commissariat stores. They will take two bags each, that is 150 pounds’ weight, and require no saddles, for the bags are merely laid upon their broad little backs and strapped there with a few strips of hide; they require no grain, and very little hay, and cost only five or six dollars. Any number of them might be purchased. These, like the oxen, stand very quietly, and appear perfectly indifferent as to any possible change in their ownership. They not unfrequently have young ones by their side, little round rough beasts with disproportionately-long ears and shaggy coats. The goats appear to take matters with less indifference. Their masters endeavour to keep them in little circles, with their heads towards the centre; but they are continually trying to escape from this arrangement, and to make a bolt for it. They keep up a constant bleating as a protest against the whole proceeding. Near to them is the grain-market. Here are men and women with their grain-bags, made of skins of goats sewn up, and with only an opening at the neck. They sit about everywhere, while the buyers walk about among them and inspect the samples with a gravity and intentness which would do no discredit to Mark-lane. Their purchases probably will not exceed two or three pounds’ weight, but they are as careful over the matter as a brewer would be who was going to make a bid for a ship’s cargo. The grain is almost entirely barley, and splendid barley too. There are beside, however, a variety of other grain, of which I do not know the names. The natives distil a spirit from their barley, which is said to be something between gin and hollands in flavour. I have not yet tasted any. Very thick is the throng round a Parsee belonging to the commissariat, who is buying up all he can get for Government at a dollar for nineteen pounds. Near him is another little crowd: here another commissariat _employé_ is similarly engaged in buying up ghee—that is, clarified or boiled butter—for the native troops. It does not look very nice, and what does not make the sight the pleasanter is, that the women, when they have emptied the jars into the commissariat casks, invariably wipe them out with their hands, and then plaster the remainder upon their heads. An Abyssinian does not consider himself properly dressed unless his hair is shining with oil, not put on or rubbed on, but plastered on, and running down his neck as the sun melts it. The idea is not, according to our notions, pleasant, but it is a matter of taste. When an Abyssinian really wants to make a great effect he uses butter, not ghee, and puts it on until his head is as white as that of a London footman. Then he is conscious that he has indeed done it, and walks with a dignity befitting his appearance. There were several swells of the period so got up at the market, and as they stood under the shelter of their straw umbrellas—for the sun would melt it and destroy the whole effect—I could not but wonder at and admire the different forms which human vanity takes.

Further on was the cloth mart. Here were women and men selling the black blankets which almost all women here wear, in addition to the ornamented skins, which form the only garments of the Senafe women. These blankets, which are very large, are worn wrapped round the body, and secured on one shoulder by a large iron pin. The blankets are coarse and thin, and have but little warmth. Officers have, however, bought large numbers for their servants, who feel the cold at night much. When we are stationary for a few days the followers construct some sort of tents with gunny-bags and clothes, but upon the march they have, of course, to sleep in the open air. Near to the vendors of blankets for the women are the sellers of the white-cotton cloth for the men. These are always men; I have seen no women engaged in selling cloth. I have no doubt they carry it to the market, but the men take the sale into their own hands. This is, perhaps, the busiest part of the fair. But beyond this we come to the largest and by far the most amusing portion of all. This is the miscellaneous market. Vegetables and herbs occupy by far the largest share of this. Here are women and girls with herbs of every sort and kind, of very few indeed of which I had any previous knowledge. Here, too, are women with tobacco, very coarse, and broken up roughly, instead of being cut. The tobacco, of course, is carried in the skins, which appear to be the receptacles for everything in this country. Here are men with salt, in shape and appearance exceedingly like a mower’s whetstone. These serve as money, and are laid out upon the ground at so many for a dollar, but if the salesman sees a European approaching he will abstract a portion, and demand a dollar for less than half of the number which should be given for that amount. Here are men selling the blue string, which all Christians wear round their neck in token of their faith. Here are men selling the great iron pins, with a rough attempt at ornament upon their heads, which all women use to fasten their blankets upon their shoulders. Here are women with strings of beads, and pumpkins, and watercresses, and dried herbs, and chillies, and honey, and garlic, and potatoes, and young onions for sale. A miscellaneous catalogue, and sold quite as miscellaneously, for the goods are sold by barter more than for money, and each vendor will bring in half-a-dozen small baskets, which she places before her to contain the various articles which she may receive in exchange. Thus, for her beads she may get some grain, a few bulbs of garlic, and a bar or two of salt. Some of these, again, she will barter for a pumpkin, a chicken, and some dried herbs; and so the commerce is carried on. Imagine a large number of these dark-faced, scantily-dressed people, very grave over their purchases, but very merry, as is their wont, in their conversation with each other, the men generally walking about, the women squatting behind their wares, always in groups, and laughing, chattering, and looking after their children—strange little potbellied black figures, with half of their heads shaved, and their sole garment a very small piece of goatskin on their shoulder. Some of the girls are, as I have already said, really pretty, with beautiful brown eyes. They have no objection to be looked at and admired. They pretend, of course, to be very shy, and half hide their faces, and look the other way; but really are very amused and a good deal gratified when a European pauses to look at them. It is singular how similar is the constitution of the female mind in savage and in civilised countries. An English beauty certainly does not betray any consciousness of being looked at and admired, excepting, of course, if she be a milkmaid; but she is no doubt equally conscious, and perhaps just as pleased—except that the sensation is more a matter of course—as is the dark-eyed and dark-skinned Abyssinian girl sitting in her scanty leathern garment and shell-ornamented wrapper in the market at Attegrat.

I do not know when the rainy season begins; indeed, it is a moot point, authorities varying in their dates from April to July; but I know we had a thunderstorm here the other day which nearly washed us out of camp. It began at three o’clock in the afternoon, and found us quite unprepared, as we have had so many threatening-looking skies that we had ceased to believe in rain. However, this time there was no mistake about it. It came up in a dense black cloud from behind the mountain beyond Attegrat. The thunder roared, the lightning was for a while terrific, and for about an hour a tremendous storm of rain and hail poured down upon us. Being an old campaigner, one of my first cares upon pitching my tent had been to have a trench dug round it; but very many officers, relying upon the fine weather, had neglected taking this precaution. Knowing what the state of things would be, immediately the rain ceased I sallied out. The camp was completely under water. As I have mentioned in a former letter, it is pitched upon the gradual slope of a hill, and down this slope a perfect stream of water came nearly two inches deep. As the rain held up, a few figures might be observed peering out of their tents to examine the skies, and as soon as it was quite certain that the rain was over, the camp, which had five minutes before appeared perfectly deserted, was like an ant-hill suddenly disturbed. Great was the devastation the flood had wrought. Through many of the tents it had swept in a flood two inches deep, soaking everything placed upon the ground. Here we saw the servants bringing out a bed, which, having been placed upon the ground, was drenched with water; here was another party bringing out hay with which some particular man had carefully carpeted his tent; here was an officer emptying out his trunks to see if the things at the bottom had suffered. As I wandered about I met Major Minion, the principal commissariat-officer here. He was hastening to the Chief for authority to issue first-class flour instead of second to the troops, as a great deal of the first quality had got wetted, and must be issued at once to prevent its being spoiled. Of course the native followers and others who had no tents suffered most of all; and the camp in a short time presented the appearance of undergoing a general washing-day, so many were the garments hung out to dry. Of course, in accordance with the old proverb of shutting the door after the horse was stolen, there was at once a great demand for picks and shovels, and everyone who had not already done so set to work at digging a trench round their tents. The night after the storm was much less cold than the preceding one had been, and the whole country looks fresher and brighter for the washing. And now as to our most absorbing topic, the advance. It takes place positively to-morrow. Sir Robert Napier himself goes on, and is accompanied by the Artillery, 3d Native Cavalry, five companies of the 4th King’s Own, and the remaining three companies of the 10th Native Infantry. The Beloochees were also to have gone forward, but there is not sufficient transport, and they will follow in a day or two. The little party of Engineers also go forward with the photographic and signalling apparatus. The two elephants will also form part of the train. The march hence to Antalo is eight days’ journey, which are divided as follows: Mai Wahiz, 13 miles; Ad Abaga, 15; Dongolo, 12; Agula, 14; Dowlo, 19; Haig Kullat, 9; Afzool, 9; Antalo, 5: total, 96 miles. Colonel Phayre, who has again gone ahead, reports that the road presents no great difficulties; but it does not appear as if the first day’s march were by any means an easy business, for the baggage-guard of the 33d regiment, which left here at nine o’clock in the morning, did not arrive at its destination until six o’clock on the following morning. The Commander-in-chief rode out next day, and found the road really impracticable at two or three places. He was exceedingly angry that the corps which has gone ahead nominally to make this road should have left it in such a state. A party of the Beloochees were at once set on, and it is to be hoped that by to-morrow they will have made it passable. The party of Bombay Sappers and Miners, who have done such good work in the pass, have gone on to-day, with instructions to keep a day’s march ahead of the Chief. They will improve, as far as they can, any very difficult places; but as they will have to progress as fast as the troops, they will of course be able to do very little. The last two days’ march even Colonel Phayre reports to be exceedingly difficult, as, instead of the flat sheets of sandstone over which much of the preceding day’s journey passes, we here have to cross sheets of bare limestone, upon which horses can stand with difficulty. He states that it will be necessary to strew soil or sand upon the rocks to make them at all passable. It is evident, therefore, that we shall have some serious difficulties to encounter even between this and Antalo; still, we may expect to be at that town by the end of the month. From thence to Magdala it is 160 miles, or thereabouts; for it is impossible to reckon within twenty miles in a country where the mountains and gorges necessitate such constant windings. I mentioned in my last letter that bets were freely offered and taken that we arrive at Magdala by the 15th of April. The whole question is one of provision and transport; and the most casual examination of the question will show that it will be a very long time before the provision for the onward march can be collected at Antalo. I related in my letters a month since how hard a task it was to feed the troops at Senafe and along the pass, and to accumulate provisions in our advance to Attegrat. Senafe is only five days’ march from Zulla; Antalo is sixteen; and, allowing for the mules to stop one day at Senafe, and one at Attegrat, to rest, which would be absolutely necessary, it is eighteen days from Zulla. We shall have twice as many troops to feed at Antalo as we had at Senafe; and as it is three times as long a journey, it will require six times as many transport-animals to feed the troops at Antalo now to what were required to feed the former force at Senafe. In addition to this, we shall have a body of troops at Attegrat, and another at Senafe, to feed. The Transport Train is more efficient now than it was a month since, but it is not greatly more numerous, as the number of fresh arrivals is almost balanced by the number of mules going daily into hospital, broken down with over-work, bad feeding, and sore backs brought on by the pack-saddles. The fact of the road being now practicable for carts to Senafe, is also an assistance to the Transport Train; but I confess that I cannot see how they will manage to provision all the line, much less to accumulate stores. It is, we have just seen, eighteen days from Zulla to Antalo. Supposing that the mules go regularly up and down, stopping two days at each end to rest, it will take them forty days to make the circuit. Putting the number of available transport-animals at 16,000, which is over the mark, there would be only four hundred a-day to start from the sea-coast. When it is remembered that these four hundred animals would have to carry their own food for those places at which grain cannot be obtained, that they have to carry the rations for their drivers for the forty days, that they have to provision the different minor posts, together with Senafe and Attegrat, it will be seen that the quantity of provisions which will reach Antalo daily will be by no means excessive. And yet, before we can move forward from Antalo, on a journey which, going and returning, and with a pause of a week at Magdala, can hardly be calculated as under two months, we must have accumulated there a sufficient amount of provisions for the whole time we may be absent; and this not only for the troops and animals who go, but for the force which will remain there during our absence. We must also have a supply accumulated at the posts along the road, as we shall take so large a portion of the transport-animals in our further advance, that we must be sure that a stock has accumulated sufficient to last some time. I hear that the number of mules which will go forward with us from Antalo will be about 6000, with two months’ provisions for the column and a certain amount for themselves. Following out the calculation I have made, we prove mathematically that we never can accumulate this 6000 mule-loads at Antalo. Mathematical proofs, fortunately, occasionally are falsified by facts. It was mathematically proved that no steamer could ever cross the Atlantic. The feat was, however, somehow accomplished; and I have no doubt but that, in the teeth of mathematics, we shall somehow or other accumulate provisions at Antalo, and shall march on to Magdala; but it must be some time first. I think the 1st of May to be the very earliest date at which we can hope to leave Antalo. Of course much will depend upon the fruitfulness of the country in the immediate vicinity of that town. If we can only obtain sufficient grain to feed our animals, and to lay in a store of provender for them for the advance, it will greatly lessen our difficulties. As far as we have already come, such has not been the case. Even the extreme prices we have given have barely purchased sufficient grain for the daily supply, and animals upon the route have to be fed upon grain brought from Bombay. Still, we must hope for better things. The date of our advance depends almost entirely upon the state of the grain-market at Antalo. We start to-morrow morning at half-past six, and that means that we must be up and moving before five. I must therefore close this letter, but shall write again in time to save the post from Ad Abaga, where I believe we shall halt for a day.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Ad Abaga, Feb. 20th.