The source of the Blue Nile

Just before dinner there was a commotion close to our tents, and we found that one of the soldiers of our escort had tried to stab Walda Mariam,[82] the assistant of Johannes, with whom he had come to meet us at Gallabat. We immediately disarmed the soldier, and then discovered that both had been to a village near by to get tedj, and were drunk. So we disarmed the deputy-interpreter also, and I was sorry to see him in disgrace, for he had always been willing, hard-working, and cheery on the journey. We placed the soldier under arrest, and warned him that if he were found brawling again he would be flogged. Then, order being restored, we went to dinner.

In this part of Abyssinia the mountain air sharpened our appetites, and I must own that we were sturdy trenchermen. Each would tackle a whole guinea-fowl or duck for lunch, and be ready for another in the evening. We had puddings “of sorts” too, and yet, like Oliver Twist, we “asked for more.”

On the morning of January 26, the quarrelsome soldier, now sober and crestfallen, was brought up for a formal reprimand. He was told that his case would be reported at Gallabat, and that he would be punished there according to military law. Then his arms were returned to him. Walda Mariam also attended, looking sheepish and sorry for himself, and his weapons too were restored to him.

After this the medicine-chest was unloaded, and I redeemed my promise to patients. One family—father, mother, and two children—had come from a distance to consult me at Korata. They had arrived too late, and had followed us to Woreb. The father was suffering from necrosis of the lower jaw, and I had to draw three teeth for him. The mother had come to hear what instructions were given about the children—a little boy and a little girl. They were suffering from strumous, tuberculous glands of the neck. I had as “hospital orderly” a soldier who understood Arabic and Amharic, and could therefore put me en rapport with my patients. After an examination of the children, I concluded that the right thing would be an operation with the knife. I told this to the woman, and the soldier interpreted what I said word for word. As soon as the little girl heard the word “knife,” she gave vent to the loudest, most piercing scream that she could utter, and fairly flew from the spot. The noise created a sensation among the Habashes and boys, who seemed to think that I was killing a patient. It would have been awkward in any case to operate in camp, and on this occasion I had no opportunity. Nothing short of brute force would have brought the little girl back, and I think the word “knife” conveyed to her mother and brother the notion of the butcher’s rather than the surgeon’s implement.

My companions had mounted their mules and started on an exploring journey, intending to select a good site as a camping-ground close to the river. But by the time they returned they had decided that our present position could not be bettered, as the river-banks were low ground covered with papyrus swamps, and any halting-place there would be very unhealthy. They had also found that all the points from which they wished to make observations were easy of access from the spot that we had chosen.

I had a rather sharp touch of fever in the afternoon, and was obliged to give up work and lie down. These attacks are unavoidable at times in that country. They make one feel extremely helpless and depressed while they last, but soon yield to quinine and a little rest.

The next morning, January 26, I was better, but felt shaky when I got on my mule and started with my companions. At a short distance from the camp we left the animals in a hollow and climbed a steep hill about five hundred feet high. It was covered with tall grass and the soil was stony, so that I was soon out of breath. But when we reached the summit a lovely scene lay in front of us. The Blue Nile, winding away from its outlet in the lake, was bright in the sunshine. The green banks on either side were delightful to the eyes, and here and there in the stream were little islands, vivid in colour, where the papyrus grew to a height of twelve or fourteen feet. There were many dark dots in the water—heads of hippopotami, which swarm in these upper reaches of the Blue Nile. Mountains rise above the river-valley on both sides, and the stream curves among the spurs at their base, till it is lost to sight. The view from the high land is far-reaching, and the clearness of the air makes even distant outlines very distinct. I can scarcely imagine a scene at once so charming, tranquil, and impressive as this prospect of lake, river, and mountains. It is impossible to convey in words the effect of the simple, strong colouring—the blue lake, the flashing stream, the verdurous islands and swamps, the cloudless, lustrous sky, the chromes and grays and purplish shadows among the ridges that sweep upward and recede from the valley in splendid lines. And upon the peace of this landscape at least, the personally conducted tripper will not intrude just yet.

I noticed several cataracts, but none of any great extent. The water in these rapids was rushing over and between rocks, and they must be ugly places when the lake rises. In other parts the river was smooth and still. In one pool we counted eighteen hippos taking the air, just their snouts being out of water.

Almost at once we set to work and piled up a heap of stones, and fixed in the centre of it a long pole as a landmark. This was a straight, thin branch which we cut from a tree near at hand. After this we set up three more “cairns” on selected spots, and then descended to the low ground, where the mules were waiting. I remained in the valley, for exertion soon tires one out after the fever. My friends climbed other hills and erected more landmarks before returning to lunch. In the meanwhile I tried my luck at angling in the river, but caught nothing, and soon gave up the attempt, and lounged under a palm-tree, reading.

My companions started on their mules after lunch to continue their survey, and I went back to camp and was glad to be idle. The day’s work was ended before evening, and I believe we were the first Britishers who had five-o’clock tea beside the head waters of the Blue Nile.

Next morning (January 27) I had instructions to set up a stone-heap on a little hill about four miles from camp. I made my way to it direct through a tangle of jungle-growths, and from the summit obtained the photograph of the source of the river at the point of outflow from the lake which forms the frontispiece of this book. I believe this to be the only photo of the place in existence.

I descended the hill, and walked along the riverbank towards the place where we had arranged to lunch. The soil was boggy, covered in some parts by reed-grass and in others by jungle-growths. Hippo spoor was everywhere. This tract is not well-wooded; there are a few palms, and some scattered trees of other kinds, chiefly mimosas. The bed of the river is hard rock, and the water was clear and drinkable. The depth varied very greatly, from a few inches in the rapids to some six metres in the pools. I saw the stream at its lowest. Watermarks showed clearly that in flood time it rises sixteen to eighteen feet above this level.

When I reached the place where we were to lunch, I saw a big herd of hippos basking on the surface of the river. Crawley and I walked towards them, and when they saw us, they sank, leaving only their snouts visible. These offered an interesting target for rifle-fire, and for awhile the hippos watched our practice with unconcern. Then a shot told—there was a “general post”—and not a sign of the huge beasts remained in sight.

After this I took my rod and tried for a fish in a pool below a rapid. While I was standing there, I saw a large white eagle, a splendid fellow, which had been watching me fishing, swoop from the branch of a high tree. He circled twice above me, and then pounced upon a young duck, that was hiding under a ledge in the river-bed, and bore it off. The parent birds were close at hand, and I heard their loud, frightened, and indignant cackling. I do not think wild duck are plentiful hereabouts. No doubt they are harried by these eagles and have to find safer breeding-places. We saw only a very few. I landed a plump fish of the perch tribe, which weighed about four pounds. He showed no fight, but came tamely into shallow water, where the boy who was with me picked him up. My friends came late into camp after a hard day’s work upon their survey.

The high ground beside the head waters of the Blue Nile is pleasant and healthy and could support a large population. The maximum temperature in the day, when we were there, was about eighty-five degrees. Usually a cool, exhilarating breeze was blowing, and we did not feel the heat disagreeably. If this place were more easily accessible, it would be a perfect pleasure-resort and a most valuable sanatorium for residents in the Soudan.

The event of January 28, was the appearance of potatoes at table. I had often gazed at this unvarying factor in one’s diet with indifference if not slightingly, and had wondered why the things were served so constantly at European tables. It was not till we missed the daily luxury that we appreciated it. The roast fowl was another bird with this accompaniment. These were the only potatoes that we saw in Abyssinia; they were very small. The cook had discovered them in a remote hamlet. I can offer no explanation of their presence in that place. He purchased a sackful for one salt and an empty lime-juice bottle, and returned to camp in triumph, shouting at the top of his voice that he had found “batatas” at last. Perhaps as he failed to discover any more, the expedition denuded the country of its whole stock.

CHAPTER X

We made an early start on the morning of the 30th. I went to the ferry and had our Berthon boat put together. We found that our plan answered excellently. Our boat, loaded with baggage, was easily hauled over, and by a quarter to ten half a score of donkeys had been carried across in tow of the ferrymen’s tankoa. Some of the boys would put their arms under a donkey and lift it bodily into place by the ferryboat at the starting-point, where the water was shallow. It was a scrambling, pushing, splashing business, and they thoroughly enjoyed standing in the stream and basking in the sunshine. A number of Habashes from Woreb helped, and our crossing was a merry, pleasant scene. The mules did not go “by ferry,” but swam over with men beside them, as at other deep water passages. It was all done and we had landed in Godjam without mishap of any kind by a quarter-past one. The last load that I took over in our boat consisted of nine of our men, rather more passengers, I fancy, than I was “licensed to carry.” We scrambled up some rocks on the further side, and then found ourselves on level ground, where travelling would be easy.

Fully half of the donkeys had been reloaded by the time we finished lunch, and we moved ahead with this detachment. The country on the further side of the Nile seemed to me to be in a more prosperous state. There was more cultivation of dhurra and grain. The natives were fatter and looked, by comparison, “well-to-do.” I heard afterwards that the ruler here is not so extortionate as certain other chieftains. I believe that we were the first Europeans to traverse this part of Godjam.

After a journey of three-quarters of an hour we approached the village of Bahardar Georgis. Before entering the hamlet we had to conform to a singular usage. Two men had stationed themselves beside the track, one on each side of it, and they held a shama across it. We asked Johannes what this meant, and he told us that it was to protect the villagers from the power of the “evil eye.” This is lost if the stranger who may possess it passes under the shama. We had to move the greasy robe aside and go beneath it, hoping rather than believing that it was not verminous. The Habashes are extremely superstitious in this respect. It is customary to screen a person of rank with a shama when he drinks, to safeguard him from the same peril, and such persons are frequently kept from view likewise while they eat their meals. Mr. Hormuzd Rassam, being a high dignitary, was carefully shielded in this way to his no slight disgust. He wrote: “As the generality of the garments spread out for our seclusion had not been washed for months, and probably not since they were first worn, the reader’s imagination may be left to conceive the odour which surrounded us on these occasions. But even if they had been washed no later than the previous day, the disagreeable smell of rancid butter with which the natives besmear their heads would suffice to render any such curtain almost intolerable.”[83]

We had to use care in the selection of our camping-ground near Bahardar Georgis. Much of the ground is covered by the papyrus plant, and this shows dampness and, by consequence, risk of fever. We finally selected a spot on some high ground, where there was a dry, red soil. This happened to be close to a little settlement of the curious people called Waitos, who are only found in this district. They inhabited two or three huts near the village. Mr. Rassam has given a concise and interesting account of them: “The Waitos are Mussulmans of the Maliky sect, and although Mohammedanism recognizes no castes among its adherents, nevertheless these people, who subsist upon the flesh of the hippopotamus” (which is considered unclean by all other Abyssinians), “are looked down upon by their co-religionists, who consider it a degradation to associate with them. A few among them cultivate a little grain, but the flesh of the hippopotamus forms their staple food. . . . I was unable to obtain any satisfactory account of the origin of this peculiar people. It is just possible, however, that there may be some relationship between them and the Watos, a tribe of Gallas inhabiting the banks of the Hawash, south of Shoa, who are also said to live on the flesh of the hippopotamus.”[84] Stecker, who was scrupulously accurate in almost every particular which he mentioned, said that the Waitos were, “strictly speaking, a Pagan sect (eigentlich Heiden-secte)”[85] but in this he was mistaken. Oddly enough, these people, though they are, in a sense, outcasts, are exclusive, and proud of their isolation.

On the morning of January 31 my companions took the Berthon boat and a whole cargo of surveyors’ gear, and started to complete the work for which the expedition had been organized. A full account of the results will be found in Sir William Garstin’s official Report on the Sources of the Nile. My services were not requested, and I certainly have had more practice in surveying symptoms than ground. I stayed in camp for awhile, and then walked to the river with angling-tackle, and landed a fair-sized fish with a spoon-bait. It was of the perch family.

The country around Bahardar Georgis is flat, as I have said, and in places swampy. The marshy tracts are overgrown by papyrus, and it is not easy to distinguish them before one is both on and in them. On this moist ground we saw flocks of wild geese and various species of ibis. In the neighbourhood of the village I first observed the bird known as buphaga Africana. It pitched upon the backs of any of our donkeys that had sores, and caught the flies that settled there. The bodies of these birds are gray, and scarcely distinguishable from the donkey’s hide. Their beaks are red, and, at a little distance, I noticed that they exactly resembled a sore on the beasts which they infested. This colouring seems a remarkable example of evolution in the direction of “protective mimicry.” They worry cattle also, and it is well known that they peck the animals to make raw places, which then attract the flies that are caught upon them. I believe that they also use their beaks to mimic sores, for my attention was first drawn to the birds by the semblance of abrasions on the spinal area of some of the donkeys, where I knew that none existed. No doubt the beaks, used thus, are a successful trap.

During the day I received a visit from an Abyssinian artist who lived at Bahardar Georgis. He came to beg colours from us, if we had any; I have no notion how the Habashes compound their pigments. He told me that he had a commission to execute some paintings for the church. I could only give him some pieces of red and blue pencil. He was extremely grateful for these, and bestowed upon me some samples of his art.

I presented him to Dupuis, who was greatly interested by his pictures, and kindly took the trouble to discover, after much rummaging, an old box of paints. This he gave to the youth, whose delight was indescribable. He promised Dupuis works of art in his best style. In the evening he came to our camp again, and I showed him the Christmas Number of Pearson’s Magazine. This pleased him highly, especially when he found that he was to be the possessor of it. The three coloured plates caused him an ecstasy of wonder and pleasure, and the respective artists—and the colour-printers—have a venerating admirer by the lake-side.

My friends returned to camp rather later than they had expected, but were well pleased by the result of the day’s work. They found that at this season of the year the discharge from the lake into the river was at the rate of forty-two cubic metres to the second. And they brought some guinea-fowl to the larder. The future proprietor of the Blue Nile Hotel and pension on Lake Tsana will always be able to offer his guests fish and poultry.

On February 1 my companions started on foot, accompanied by Johannes, a pack-mule and some boys, to see the first falls in the course of the Blue Nile, and the ancient stone bridge which spans the river at this point.[86] These falls are twenty-one miles below the outlet of the stream from the lake.

I remained in charge of the camp, and, to wile away the time, took our boat out upon the lake. This caused a great sensation among the villagers, who had seen nothing of my friends’ excursion in it the previous day. The Habashes flocked to the edge of the water, but whenever I rested on the oars for a few moments, they rushed screaming into their huts. Apparently they regarded me as a naval force, and thought I meant to carry Bahardar Georgis by a coup de main. Perhaps they remembered King Theodore’s descent upon the island of Dek. “He was in pursuit, it appears, of a refractory chief under Ras Ali, who had taken refuge on the island. In less than twenty-four hours he had two hundred canoes constructed, in which he suddenly appeared off the place with five hundred chosen warriors.”[87] I should think that this was the only occasion on which the tankoa was used in war, and have a feeling of compassion for the five hundred warriors.

We noticed that at this place the children seemed especially frightened of white men. Perhaps their mothers used us as bogeys to terrify those that were troublesome. We found that we could soon regain the confidence of the people by giving them any little picture, no matter of what; prints from advertisements of furniture or clothes served quite well. They received these with delight.

On the next day (February 2) my friends returned to camp, having made short work of their tramp of forty-two miles. Crawley had shot an oribi, a species of gazelle, on the way to the falls, and Dupuis secured one on the march back. The former had served as tasty rations to the party on the journey, the latter came into our larder, and the prospect of venison after a long course of guinea-fowl was very pleasant.

They had met a small body of Habashes on the road, who attempted to turn them back, and these men loaded their rifles as a menace. They were probably soldiers of the King of Godjam, but as the Abyssinian troops wear no uniform it is difficult to distinguish those who are “in the service” from those who are not. As among the Boers, the combatant can at any time become a non-combatant if he has time to hide his rifle and cartridges. My friends took no notice of the hostile demonstration and rode on. Nothing came of it. Probably the threat was intended to extort money. Usually we were well received, and I attribute this to the sound judgment of our chief, who took care to leave the villages near which we camped a little richer than we found them.

The bridge is a most interesting relic of the times of Portuguese ascendency in Abyssinia. I am indebted to Dupuis for permission to reproduce his photograph of it. The following account of its construction is taken from Dr. Johnson’s translation of Father Jerome Lobo’s[88] “Voyage to Abyssinia.” I quote the passage in extenso because it contains a reference to a question which has been much discussed, though it has merely an academic interest, viz. whether Lake Tsana, or the river which is its principal tributary, should be regarded as the true source of the Blue Nile.

“The Nile, which the natives call Abavi” (Abai), “that is the father of waters, rises first in Sacala, a province of the kingdom of Goiama” (Godjam), “which is one of the most fruitful and agreeable of all the Abyssinian dominions. This province is inhabited by a nation of the Agaus, who call themselves Christians, but by daily intermarriages they have allied themselves to the Pagan Agaus, and adopted all their customs and ceremonies. These two nations are very numerous, fierce, and unconquerable, inhabiting a country full of mountains, which are covered with woods, and hollowed by nature into vast caverns, many of which are capable of containing several numerous families and hundreds of cows. To these recesses the Agaus betake themselves when they are driven out of the plain, where it is almost impossible to find them and certain ruin to pursue them. This people increases extremely, every man being allowed so many wives as he hath hundreds of cows; and it is seldom that the hundreds are required to be complete.

“In the eastern part of this kingdom, on the declivity of a mountain, whose descent is so easy that it seems a beautiful plain, is that source of the Nile which has been sought after at so much expense of labour, and about which such variety of conjectures hath been formed without success. This spring, or rather these two springs, are two holes, each about two feet diameter, a stone’s cast distant from each other. The one is but about five feet and a half in depth, at least we could not get our plummet farther, perhaps because it was stopped by roots, for the whole place is full of trees. Of the other, which is somewhat less, with a line of ten feet we could find no bottom, and were assured by the inhabitants that none ever had been found. It is believed here that these springs are the vent of a great subterraneous lake; and they have this circumstance to favour their opinion, that the ground is always moist, and so soft that the water boils up underfoot as one walks upon it: this is more visible after rains, for then the ground yields and sinks so much, that I believe it is chiefly supported by the roots of trees that are interwoven one with another. Such is the ground round about these fountains. At a little distance to the south is a village named Guix, through which the way lies to the top of the mountain, from whence the traveller discovers a vast extent of land, which appears like a deep valley, though the mountain rises so imperceptibly that those who go up or down it are scarce sensible of any declivity.

“On the top of this mountain is a little hill, which the idolatrous Agaus have in great veneration. Their priest calls them together at this place once a year; and having sacrificed a cow, throws the head into one of the springs of the Nile; after which ceremony every one sacrifices a cow or more according to their different degrees of wealth or devotion. The bones of these cows have already formed two mountains of considerable height, which afford a sufficient proof that these nations have always paid their adorations to this famous river. They eat these sacrifices with great devotion, as flesh consecrated to their deity. Then the priest anoints himself with the grease and tallow of the cows, and sits down on a heap of straw on the top and in the middle of a pile which is prepared. They set fire to it, and the whole heap is consumed without any injury to the priest; who, while the fire continues, harangues the standers by, and confirms them in their present ignorance and superstition. When the pile is burnt, and the discourse at an end, every one makes a large present to the priest, which is the grand design of this religious mockery.

“To return to the course of the Nile. Its waters, after the first rise, run to the eastward for about a musket-shot; then turning to the north, continue hidden in the grass and weeds for about a quarter of a league, and discover themselves for the first time among some rocks; a sight not to be enjoyed without some pleasure by those who have read the fabulous accounts of this stream delivered by the ancients, and the vain conjectures and reasonings which have been formed upon its original, the nature of its water, its cataracts, and its inundations, all which we are now entirely acquainted with, and eye witnesses of.”[89]

The Nile “rolls away from its source with so inconsiderable a current that it appears unlikely to escape being dried up by the hot season, but soon receiving an increase from the Gemma, the Kelta, the Bransu, and other less rivers, it is of such a breadth in the plain of Boad, which is not above three days’ journey from its source, that a ball shot from a musket will scarce fly from one bank to the other. Here it begins to run northward, deflecting, however, a little towards the east, for the space of nine or ten leagues; and then enters the so much talked of lake of Dambia” (Tsana), “called by the natives Barhar Sena, the resemblance of the sea, or Barhar Dambia, the sea of Dambia. It crosses this lake only at one end, with so violent a rapidity that the waves of the Nile” (Abai) “may be distinguished through all the passage, which is six leagues.[90] Here begins the greatness of the Nile. Fifteen miles farther, in the land of Alata, it rushes precipitately from the top of a high rock, and forms one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the world. I passed under it without being wet, and resting myself there for the sake of the coolness, was charmed with a thousand delightful rainbows which the sunbeams painted on the water in all their shining and lively colours. The fall of this mighty stream, from so great a height, makes a noise that may be heard to a considerable distance. . . . The mist that rises from this fall of water may be seen much farther than the noise can be heard. After this cataract, the Nile again collects its scattered stream among the rocks which seem to be disjoined in this place only to afford it a passage. They are so near each other, that, in my time, a bridge of beams, on which the whole Imperial army passed, was laid over them. Sultan Segued[91] hath since built here a bridge of one arch in the same place, for which purpose he procured masons from India” (i.e. the Portuguese Indies).[92] “This bridge, which is the first the Abyssinians have seen on the Nile, very much facilitates a communication between the provinces, and encourages commerce among the inhabitants of his Empire.”

Bruce’s description of the source of the Abai differs somewhat from that given by Father Lobo. It is brief, and as an exceptional interest attaches to the spot, it may not be superfluous to quote it.

“Half undressed as I was, by loss of my sash, and throwing my shoes off” (as he had been directed to do in order to conform to a superstitious usage of the natives), “I ran down the hill towards the little island of green sods, which was about two hundred yards distant; the whole side of the hill was thick grown with flowers, the large bulbous roots[93] of which appearing above the surface of the ground, and their skins coming off upon treading upon them, occasioned me two very severe falls before I reached the brink of the marsh. I after this came to the altar of green turf, which was in form of an altar apparently the work of art, and I stood in rapture over the principal fountain, which rises in the middle of it.”[94]

Bruce talked with “the Shum, the priest of the river, whose title was Kefla Abai, or ‘Servant of the river.’ He was a man of about seventy. The honourable charge which he possessed had been in his family, he conceived, from the beginning of the world; and as he was the happy father of eighty-four children, it appeared that his race was likely to flow as long as the Nile itself. He had a long white beard; round his body was wrapped a skin, which was fastened by a broad belt. Over this he wore a cloak, the hood of which covered his head, his legs were bare, but he wore sandals, which he threw off as soon as he approached the bog from which the Nile” (Abai) “rises—a mark of respect which Bruce and his attendants were also required to perform.” The Shum very obligingly presented his comely and sprightly daughter Irepone, aged sixteen, to the Scottish traveller as housekeeper.

Bruce says that at this time the people of the place called the Spirit of the River “The Everlasting God, Light of the World, Eye of the World, God of Peace, Saviour and Father of the Universe.” He asked the Shum if he had ever seen the Spirit, and the old man answered without hesitation, “Yes, very frequently.”[95]

The Abai mentioned above is the main tributary of the Blue Nile, but a glance at the map will show that Lake Tsana receives many other rivers, and the surrounding mountains, of course, add the volume of innumerable torrents and small streams to its waters in the rainy season. For practical purposes the source of the Blue Nile is the lake fed by all the affluents which collectively determine the amount of the discharge into the river.

To return to the camp at Bahardar Georgis. The survey work of the expedition was now completed, and our subsequent stages were upon the homeward journey. On February 3 we visited the village church. I obtained a clear photograph of some of the paintings in the interior. Unfortunately, as I am no archæologist, I cannot pretend to say whether the clothing of St. George, either in his combat or his victorious return, or the conception of the other figures, gives an indication of the origin of the Abyssinian school of ecclesiastical art. I hope that some of my readers who are better informed may be able to throw light upon the subject. It is, perhaps, of considerable interest for the following reason: If the usages of the Abyssinian church, which is strictly conservative, represent a really primitive form of Christianity, they show that the observance of ritual ceremonies was, in the early days, at least as much a matter of concern as the condition of the individual conscience. And the style of the Abyssinian pictures of sacred subjects may help to determine the date when the accepted liturgy took its present form.

In the afternoon the guns of the party added some venison, poultry, and game to the larder, and in the evening we were serenaded—against our will and at our expense. A band of singers and dancers from the village—both men and women—came into camp. They had no intention of showing their skill without remuneration, and as it would have caused ill-will among them and disappointment to our own boys and escort if we had sent them away, we endured their performance and paid for it. One of the instruments which they use is a piece of board, over which strings are stretched, so that it looks like a rude archaic forerunner of the violin. They twang the strings with their fingers, but do not “stop” them to obtain different notes from the same string. Our troupe also played the tomtom and sang in the high nasal voice which is characteristic of the race. We heard the last of them, thankfully, at half-past nine.

While we were at Bahardar Georgis, the Waitos near our camp drove a brisk trade in courbashes.[96] I bought of them some hippo tusks, which they were glad to sell, as they live in great poverty. If I had had some more small change (salt) I could have purchased a quite considerable stock.

Insects are an annoying pest in this part of the lake side. Hosts of mosquitoes and small beetles of a peculiar species appeared on the flat ground at sunset, and swarmed throughout the neighbourhood for an hour afterwards. The beetles settled upon us in throngs, and crawled into our noses and ears and under our clothes, and we could not even crush them on account of the unendurable smell which their bodies then gave forth. When the first hour after sundown is past, the temperature falls very rapidly, and one sees no more of these insects.

On February 4 we started to complete the circuit of the lake and reach Delgi by way of the Zegi peninsula. Our road lay across flat land, bordered by marshes and full of swamps and quagmires. Sometimes the marshes stretch a long way into the land, and long detours had to be made to avoid them. I saw yams for the first time in Abyssinia growing just above the swampy tracts in this region. We had to cross three rivers with rocky beds, which were made rougher and more slippery by loose stones. To add to our difficulties, our guide twice led us out of the right path, and once to a ford which was impassable for the donkeys. In this way we lost nearly three hours. At lunch time we sent the baggage-train on ahead of us. The latter part of the journey was over a beaten track, and gave us no trouble. We overtook the baggage animals and their escort just as they entered the undulating ground which forms the approach to the peninsula of Zegi. We pitched our camp near the shore of a little bay of which this promontory was the further boundary.

While we were on the road I received a scribbled note from Crawley, who told me that one of his soldiers was ill, had lain down and refused to move. I rode back at his request, and found the invalid under a tree. He said, “Leave me alone. I want to die.” It was evident at a glance that he was suffering from ague. The only remedy which we had at hand was chartreuse. I gave him a big “nip” of the cordial, and it had an excellent effect upon him. He was able to ride to the end of the journey, and was none the worse for the effort. I venture to commend this incident to the consideration of strict teetotalers.

The village near which we were encamped is that which is marked as Furje on Stecker’s map. The district affords a curious example of feudal tenure in Abyssinia. We had quitted Tecla Haimanot’s dominions, and the land on which our camp stood was under the control of a certain chief called Fituari[97] Ali, a feudatory of Ras Mangousha. He dwelt close to the town of Zegi, but had no jurisdiction within its boundary, though his lordship was valid in a region extending beyond the town to the Abai.

The chieftain had gone to attend the marriage of Ras Mangousha’s daughter, and had left his son in authority. So we sent a messenger with an escort to carry the news of our arrival to this young Habash with due formality. He brought back an uncivil reply to the effect that the Fituari’s son was absent, and if we wanted anything we had better go and find him. This was sent by his majordomo. While we were waiting for tea to be served, Johannes reported that the young Habash was approaching, and we saw him at a little distance attended by a band of followers, some of whom carried guns. Our interpreter asked what he should say to this truculent young man, and we bade him explain that we only asked leave to pass through the land, and should require nothing unless it were to purchase a little grain for our animals. We always sought to avoid trouble with the natives, and therefore impressed upon Johannes that he should show we wished to be friendly, and say we hoped the Fituari’s son would come and have a drink with us.

Johannes departed with his message, and presently we heard a great hubbub—many Habashes talking at once at the top of their high-pitched voices. We wondered what gave rise to so much excitement. Presently Johannes emerged from the crowd and approached us slowly. The young man’s answer was that he would speak with us when he had seen the King’s letter. Now, this permit and all our credentials had been dispatched on February 1 from Bahardar Georgis to Ras Mangousha that we might obtain his leave to travel through his territories beyond the Abai, and we did not expect our messenger to return until late on the following day.

It was an uncomfortable situation. The Ras’s reply might be unfavourable. In that case we should be confronted by the necessity of retracing our steps over the whole of the toilsome journey by the lake side. We all longed to kick the tiresome coxcomb who was in our way, and went to dinner in a glum mood.

We were obliged to spend the following day (Feb. 5) in inaction awaiting the return of our messenger with Ras Mangousha’s answer. I busied myself with the camera, having every reason to believe that no photographs of this tract of country had ever been taken.

During the morning we received a visit from the head man of Zegi. We thought it a favourable sign that he gave us a very pleasant and courteous welcome. This young man, Hyli by name, was about nineteen years of age. I learned afterwards that he was studying the ancient Geez language under the tuition of the priests of Zegi, and presume that he intended to “go into the Church.” These candidates for orders are not permitted to smoke or drink strong liquor while they are in statu pupillari. A similar restriction would scarcely be popular in our own ancient universities.

Hyli, we found, had a large consignment of coffee to send to the market at Gallabat. It is his business to collect the dues payable on this produce before it leaves the village, and the revenue so obtained is handed to Ras Mangousha. Hyli had now come to request that his caravan might join ours during the journey through the “rain-country”—that borderland between Abyssinia and the Soudan, which, as I have said, is infested by bandits. We had every reason to win friends where we could, and every wish to please the young Habash, so we consented willingly. He told us that the coffee was already at Delgi, and that he had been informed of the date of our arrival at that village, at Korata and at Woreb, and had been looking forward to our coming for a month past. In the evening he sent us a present of flour and fowls.

After this visit, I walked to the township of Zegi. It is surrounded by a thick hedge of incense-bush, and this forms the boundary between the Fituari’s jurisdiction and Hyli’s. Zegi very closely resembles Korata. It consists of groups of tokhuls scattered among small, square enclosures where the coffee bushes grow apparently untended. These plantations, with the cottages and churches among them, cover the whole promontory. I should estimate the population, when I saw the place, at about three thousand souls.

Dr. Stecker’s account of his visit to the town is brief and interesting, and I quote it. I saw nothing of the stone dwellings which he describes, and think they must have been replaced by straw tokhuls since 1881. He wrote:—

“On June 7 I made a tankoa-journey to the peninsula of Zegi, and climbed to the highest peak, Tekla Haimanot (2074 metres above sea-level, according to barometrical measurement), which afforded extremely important survey-bearings.” The traveller then mentions his visit to Livlivo, Adina, and the island of Dek, and adds, “The Zegi peninsula is especially famed for its coffee plantations. Some coffee-trees are as much as a metre in girth. The coffee is mostly exported to Metemmeh” (Gallabat), “less goes to Massowah, but it is not considered so good as that of Korata. Besides coffee the Ensete banana flourishes here conspicuously, and also the edible species (Musa Ensete edulis); but, unfortunately, in recent years these charming plantations have been almost entirely destroyed by a species of pig called Assama (potamochoerus penicillatus),[98] which is found here in hundreds. This remarkable animal feeds almost entirely on the roots of these fine bananas. What struck me here particularly was the neatness of the tokhuls, which are chiefly of stone, and in general all villages on Lake Tsana have a much cleanlier and more pleasant appearance than those inland. There is no lack of clergy on the Zegi Peninsula: there are here no fewer than seven churches with twelve hundred priests and defterers.”[99] I am bound to say that I saw no indication during my brief stay that the population was deplorably priest-ridden!

I was returning to camp about four o’clock in the afternoon, and was still at some distance from it when I met a Habash, who made me understand by signs that our messenger had brought the Ras’s letter, and as I hastened on I noticed that the news was already public property. Upon reaching camp I saw our man, grimy and travel-stained. He and a companion, with one mule to ride, had covered about a hundred and thirty miles in four days over very rough country, and they had waited while the Ras attended to our business; so they had not let the grass grow under their feet. I felt sorry for the mule. Walda Mariam had had charge of this business. We had given him one day’s rest at Bahardar Georgis after his return with Tecla Haimanot’s message, and then dispatched him on this second journey. It is expected of these runners, when they are in charge of a missive from the Negus or a great chief, that they shall not sleep till they have delivered it. The man bowed low, and handed the Ras’s letters to me in a manner which showed that he now made me responsible for their custody. I then learned, by the aid of an Arab interpreter, that the chief’s reply was of the most favourable kind, and that he had sent mandates to all concerned to give us every furtherance on our way round the lake. He also inquired very courteously about our health and our progress, and had sent a soldier from his own guard as a special escort for the party. The Ras, moreover, had even furnished us with letters to chiefs through whose lands we should not pass on the road to Delgi, to be used in case we wished to turn aside from the way and visit the hinterland of the lake district. And, best of all, there was a communication addressed to Fituari Ali’s son, enjoining upon him that he should show us every civility. Johannes, who had been absent from camp when the messenger arrived, had returned by the time my companions came back from an excursion. The despatches were then interpreted to them in French, and we enjoyed the prospect of our enemy’s discomfiture. It was resolved that the mandate to him should be delivered on the following morning. I noticed that the Habashes did not appear to make common cause with Ali’s son, but seemed pleased at our success. Among the Ras’s letters was one to Hyli, which we sent to him immediately, though it was scarcely required in his case. Zody was the bearer of it.

CHAPTER XI