GOVERNMENT OF ABYSSINIA — THE EMPEROR AND HIS GENEALOGY — THE THREE DISTRICTS AND THEIR RULERS — THE MINOR CHIEFS AND THEIR DISTINGUISHING EMBLEMS — KING THEODORE — A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE — CAREER FROM THE RANKS TO THE THRONE — HIS ATTEMPTS AT REFORM — ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE — A MODERN SOLOMON — MODES OF PUNISHMENT — THE LADIES’ GAME — ABYSSINIAN PLEADING — THE TRIAL BY WAGER — QUARRELSOME CHARACTER OF THE ABYSSINIANS — THEIR VANITY AND BOASTFULNESS — THE LAW OF DEBT — HOSPITALITY AND ITS DUTIES — COOKERY AND MODES OF EATING — THE RAW FLESH FEAST — PEPPER SAUCE — THE USE OF THE SHOTEL — A WEDDING FEAST — ABYSSINIAN DIGESTION.

The government of the Abyssinians has varied several times, but has mostly settled down into a sort of divided monarchy.

There is an Emperor, supreme king, or Negust, who must be a lineal descendant of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and who must be crowned by the high priest or Abuna, an ecclesiastic who corresponds very nearly with the Greek Patriarch. Mostly, the king holds but nominal sway over the fierce and insubordinate chiefs of provinces, and, as is likely, the fiercest, cleverest, and most unscrupulous chief generally contrives to manage the king much as he likes. Should the king be strong-minded enough to hold his own opinions, the chiefs become dissatisfied, and by degrees fall into a state of chronic rebellion, as was the case during the last years of Theodore’s life.

Each of the great districts has its own Ras, chief, or prince, according to the title that may be used, and his authority is absolute in his own province. The Ras appoints under him a number of great chiefs, who bear the title of Dejasmatch (commonly contracted into Dejatch), corresponding in some degree with our ducal rank. Under these great chiefs are lesser officers, and each of them is appointed by beat of the great drum of ceremony and proclamation by the heralds. Men so appointed have the privilege of drums beating before them on a march or in battle, and their rank, that of “addy negarie,” or men of honor, confers the same practical power as that of Dejasmatch, the title alone being wanting.

It may be as well to mention that the late King Theodore held the title of Dejasmatch before he had himself named King of Ethiopia; and as the history of this remarkable man gives some idea of the Abyssinian mode of government, a very brief sketch will be given of his progress to the throne.

Putting together the various histories that have appeared, and rejecting their many discrepancies, we come to the following series of events.

Kassai, for such was his name before he changed it to Theodorus, was the son of a very small chief named Hailu Weleda Georgis, whose only distinction seems to have been his reputed descent from the Queen of Sheba, a tradition of which Kassai afterward took advantage. When he died, his little property was seized by his relations, and his widow was forced to support herself by selling the “kosso,” the popular remedy for the tape-worm, a creature which is singularly prevalent in this country. Kassai, then a boy, took refuge in a monastery, where he might have remained until this day, had not a Dejasmatch, who had turned rebel after their custom, attacked the monastery, burned the huts of which it was composed, and killed the boys who inhabited it by way of avenging himself on their parents. Kassai, however, escaped the massacre, and fled to a powerful and warlike relation, the Dejasmatch Coufu, under whom he learned the management of arms, and as much of the art of war as was known.

His uncle however died, and his two sons immediately fought for the patrimony; and, while they were quarrelling, another powerful Dejasmatch saw his opportunity, swept down suddenly upon them, and made himself master of the best and most fertile part of the district.

Again ejected from a home, Kassai contrived to get together a band of followers, whom we should not wrong very greatly by calling robbers, and for some years lived a wandering life marvellously resembling that of David in his earlier years. By degrees his band increased until some of the petty chiefs joined him with their followers, and he became a man of such importance that the well-known Waisoro Mennen, the crafty and ambitious mother of Ras Ali, finding that he could not be beaten in the field, gave him in marriage the daughter of the Ras. She, however, proved a faithful wife to him, and would have nothing to do with the schemes of her grandmother. At last Kassai and Waisoro Mennen came to an open rupture, and fought a battle, in which the former was victorious, and captured both the lady and her fine province of Dembea. The latter he kept, but the former he set at liberty.

Ras Ali then tried to rid himself of his troublesome son-in-law by assigning Dembea to Berru Goshu, a powerful Dejasmatch, who accordingly invaded the district, and drove Kassai out of it. This happened in 1850. In less than two years, however, Kassai reorganized an army, attacked the camp of Berru Goshu, shot him with his own hand, and got back his province. Thinking that matters were now becoming serious, Ras Ali took the field in person and marched against Kassai, who conquered him, drove him among the Gallas for safety, and took possession of the whole of Amhara.

Having secured this splendid prize, he sent to Ras Oubi, the Prince of Tigré, and demanded tribute. Oubi refused, led his army against Kassai, and lost both his province and his liberty. The conqueror kept him in prison until 1860, when his first wife died, and he married the daughter of Oubi, whom he released and made a tributary vassal.

Being now practically master of the whole country, he sent for Abba Salama, the then Abuna or Patriarch, and had himself crowned by the title of Theodorus, King of the kings of Ethiopia. This event took place in 1855; and from that time to his death Theodore maintained his supremacy, his astonishing personal authority keeping in check the fierce and rebellious spirits by whom he was surrounded. How he really tried to do the best for his country we all know. Semi-savage as he was by nature, he possessed many virtues, and, had he known his epoch better, would still have been on the throne, the ruler of a contented instead of a rebellious people. But he was too far ahead of his age. He saw the necessity for reforms, and impatiently tried to force them on the people, instead of gently paving the way for them. The inevitable results followed, and Theodore’s mind at last gave way under the cares of empire and the continual thwartings of his many schemes. Still, even to the last he never lost his self-reliance nor his splendid courage, and, though the balance of his mind was gone, and he alternated between acts of singular kindness and savage cruelty, he fought to the last, and not until he was deserted by his soldiers did he die by his own hand at the entrance of his stronghold.

He saw very clearly that the only way to establish a consolidated kingdom was to break the power of the great chiefs or princes. This he did by the simple process of putting them in chains until they yielded their executive powers, and contented themselves rather with the authority of generals than of irresponsible rulers. He was also desirous of doing away with the custom that made every man an armed soldier, and wished to substitute a paid standing army for the miscellaneous horde of armed men that filled the country. He was anxious to promote agriculture, and, according to his own words, not only to turn swords into reaping-hooks—a very easy thing, by the way, with an Abyssinian sword—but to make a ploughing ox more valuable than a war-horse. To his own branch of the Church he was deeply attached, and openly said that he had a mission to drive Islamism from his country, and for that reason was at war with the Gallas, who, as well as the Shooas and other tribes, profess the religion of Mohammed. That being done, he intended to march and raze to the ground Mecca and Medina, the two sacred cities of Islam; and even projected a march to Jerusalem itself.

His most difficult task, however, was the suppression of the immorality that reigns throughout Abyssinia, and which, according to Mr. Parkyns, has a curious effect on the manners of the people. Neither men nor women seem to have any idea that the least shame can be attached to immorality, and the consequence is that both in word and manner they are perfectly decorous. To cope with so ingrained a vice seems an impracticable task, and such it turned out to be. He set the example to his people by only taking one wife, and when she died he had many scruples about the legality of taking another, and did not do so until after consultation with European friends and careful examination of the Bible. He could not, however, keep up the fight against nature, and in his last years he had resorted to the old custom of the harem.

As the reader would probably like to see what kind of a man was this Theodorus, I give a portrait on page 652, taken from a sketch made of him while he was in the enjoyment of perfect health of body and mind, and while he was the irresponsible ruler of his country, knowing of none greater than himself, and having his mind filled with schemes of conquest of other lands, and reform of his own. The portrait was taken by M. Lejean, some ten years before the death of Theodorus; and, in spite of the loss of his hair, which he wore short in the last years of his life, and of the ravages which time, anxiety, and misdirected zeal had made in his features, the face is essentially the same as that of the dead man who lay within the gates of Magdala on the fatal Good Friday of 1868.

Knowing the character of the people over whom he reigned, Theodore made liberal use of external accessories for the purpose of striking awe into them, such as magnificent robes and weapons adorned with the precious metals. Among the most valued of these accessories were four tame lions, of which he was very fond. These animals travelled about with him, and even lived in the same stable with the horses, never being chained or shut up in cages, but allowed to walk about in perfect liberty. They were as tame and docile as dogs, and M. Lejean states that the only objection to them was the over-demonstrative affection of their manners. Like cats they delighted to be noticed and made much of, and were apt to become unpleasantly importunate in soliciting caresses.

They were, however, somewhat short-tempered when travelling over the mountain ranges, the cold weather of those elevated regions making them uncomfortable and snappish. With an idea of impressing his subjects with his importance, an art in which he was eminently successful, Theodore was accustomed to have his lions with him when he gave audience, and the accompanying portrait was taken from a sketch of the Lion of Abyssinia seated in the audience-chamber, and surrounded with the living emblems of the title which he bore, and which he perpetuated in his royal seal.

Justice is administered in various modes, sometimes by the will of the chief, and sometimes by a sort of court or council of elders. The former process is generally of a very summary character, and is based on the old Mosaic principle of an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. If one man murders another, for example, and the culprit be detected, the Ras will direct the nearest relation of the murderer to kill him in precisely the same manner that he killed his victim. One very odd case was investigated by Oubi, the Ras or Prince of Tigré.

Two little boys, the elder eight and the younger five years of age, had been walking together, when they saw a tree laden with fruit. After some difficulty, the elder climbed into the tree, and, standing on a branch, plucked the fruit and threw it to his little companion who stood below him. By some accident or other he fell from the tree upon the head of his playfellow, and killed him on the spot. The parents of the poor child insisted that the boy who killed him should be arraigned for murder, and, after a vast amount of consultation, he was found guilty. Ras Oubi then gave sentence. The culprit was to stand under the branch exactly where had stood the poor little boy. The eldest brother was then to climb up the tree and fall on the other boy’s head until he killed him.

Theft is generally punished with flogging, the whip being a most formidable weapon, made of hide, and called, from its length and weight, the “giraffe.” A thief is sometimes taken into the market-place, stripped to the waist, and led by two men, while a third delivers a terrific series of blows with the giraffe whip. After each blow the delinquent is forced to exclaim, “All ye who see me thus, profit by my example.”

Many other offences, such as sacrilege, rebellion, and the like, are punished by the loss of a hand or a foot, sometimes of both. The forfeited member is amputated in a very clumsy way, with a small curved knife, so that a careless or maladroit executioner can inflict frightful suffering. The culprit generally gives a fee to the executioner, who will then put as keen an edge as possible on the knife, and tell the sufferer how to arrange his hand, and spread his fingers, so that the tendons may be stretched, and the joint separated easily. One man of rank, who had been condemned to lose his left hand, suffered the operation without moving a muscle of his countenance, and when the hand was severed, he took it up with his right, and flung it in the face of the presiding chief, with the exclamation that he still had a hand wherewith to fling a spear. With the same equanimity he dipped the bleeding stump into the boiling oil which is generally used as a styptic. Sometimes, however, the use of the hot oil is forbidden, and the sufferer is left to bleed to death.

The Abyssinians, however, are as little sensitive to pain as most African tribes, and endure with ease injuries which would kill an European. The young men have a curious amusement, which well exemplifies their insensibility to pain. “When a party of young men are seated together, the ladies present will bring bits of the pith of millet stems, cut to about an inch long, and of the thickness of a man’s thumb, or, what is better still, pieces of old rag, rolled tight, so as to form a pellet of similar dimensions. These are arranged in patterns by each lady on the extended arm of any one whom she may choose, and their tops lighted.

“The only merit in the man is to allow them to burn themselves out entirely, without moving his arm so as to cause them to fall, or evincing the slightest consciousness of pain either by word, look, or gesture. On the contrary, he must continue a flow of agreeable conversation, as if nothing were occurring. The lady operator usually blows her fires to keep them going, and the material, whether pith or rag, being of a very porous nature, and burning slowly like tinder, the action of the fire is felt on the skin long before it actually reaches it. It is, in fact, an operation similar to the ‘moxa’ of European surgery. When the pellets are completely burned out, the lady rubs her hand roughly over the cauterized parts, so as to remove the burnt skin. On a copper-colored person the scars, when well healed, assume a polished black surface, which contrasts very prettily with the surrounding skin.”

The courts of justice, to which allusion has been made, are composed of elders; or not unfrequently the chief of the district acts as the magistrate. When two persons fall into a dispute and bring it before the court, an officer comes for the litigants, and ties together the corner of their quarries. Holding them by the knot, he leads them before the magistrate, where each is at liberty to plead his own cause. From the moment that the knot is tied, neither is allowed to speak, under penalty of a heavy fine, until they have come before the magistrate; and when the trial has begun, (see engraving No. 2, p. 652,) the plaintiff has the first right of speech, followed by the defendant in reply. Neither is allowed to interrupt the other under pain of a fine; but, in compassion to the weakness of human nature, the non-speaker may grunt if he likes when the adversary makes any statement that displeases him.

The oddest part of the proceeding is the custom of betting, or rather paying forfeits, on the result of the investigation. A plaintiff, for example, offers to bet one, two, or more mules, and the defendant feels himself bound to accept the challenge, though he may sometimes modify the amount of the bet. When the case is determined, the loser pays the sum, not to the winner, but to the chief who decides the case. A “mule,” by the way, does not necessarily mean the animal, but the word is used conventionally to represent a certain sum of money, so that a “mule” means ten dollars, just as among English sporting men a “pony” signifies £25.

This practice is carried on to such an extent that Mr. Parkyns has seen ten mules betted upon the payment of a small quantity of corn, worth only two or three shillings. The object of the “bet” seems to be that the offer binds the opposite party to carry out the litigation, and when it is offered, the chief forces the loser to pay under the penalty of being put in chains.

It may be seen from the foregoing observations that the Abyssinians are rather a quarrelsome people. This arises chiefly from their vanity, which is extreme, and which culminates to its highest point when the brain is excited and the tongue loosened by drink. It was this national characteristic which induced King Theodore to imagine himself the equal of any monarch on the face of the earth, and to fancy that he could cope successfully with the power of England.

Mr. Mansfield Parkyns gives a very amusing account of this national failing.

“Vanity is one of the principal besetting sins of the Abyssinians, and it is to this weakness, when brought out by liquor, that the origin of most of their quarrels may be traced. I remember more than once to have heard a remark something like the following made by one of two men who, from being ‘my dear friends,’ had chosen to sit next to each other at table: ‘You’re a very good fellow, and my very dear friend; but (hiccup) you aren’t half so brave or handsome as I am!’ The ‘very dear friend’ denies the fact in a tone of voice denoting anything but amity, and states that his opinion is exactly the reverse. The parties warm in the argument; words, as is usual when men are in such a state, are bandied about without any measure, and often without much meaning; insults follow; then blows; and if the parties round them be in a similar condition to themselves, and do not immediately separate them, it frequently happens that swords are drawn.

“Dangerous wounds or death are the consequence; or, as is not uncommon, others of the party, siding with the quarrellers, probably with the idea of settling the affair, are induced to join in the row, which in the end becomes a general engagement. I have noticed this trait of vanity as exhibiting itself in various ways in a drunken Abyssinian. I always found that the best plan for keeping a man quiet, when in this state, was to remark to him that it was unbecoming in a great man to behave in such a way, that people of rank were dignified and reserved in their manners and conversation. And thus I have argued very successfully with my own servants on more than one occasion, flattering them while they were tipsy, and then paying them off with a five-foot male bamboo when they got sober again.

“I recollect one fellow who was privileged, for he had asked my leave to go to a party and get drunk. On returning home in the evening, he staggered into my room in as dignified a manner as he could, and, seating himself beside me on my couch, embraced me with tears in his eyes, made me a thousand protestations of attachment and affection, offering to serve me in any way he could, but never by a single expression evincing that he considered me as other than a dear friend, and that indeed in rather a patronizing fashion, although the same fellow was in the habit of washing my feet, and kissing them afterward, every evening, and would, if sober, have no more thought of seating himself, even on the ground, in my presence, than of jumping over the moon.

“With his fellow-servants, too, he acted similarly; for though he knew them all, and their characters and positions, he addressed them as his servants, ordering them about, and upbraiding them for sundry peccadilloes which they had doubtless committed, and which thus came to my knowledge. In fact, in every point he acted to perfection the manners and language of a great man; and so often have I seen the same mimicry, that it has led me to believe that the chief mental employment of the lowest fellow in the country is building castles in the air, and practising to himself how he would act, and what he would say, if he were a great man.”

The law of debt is a very severe one. The debtor is thrown into prison, and chained to the wall by the wrist. The ring that encloses the wrist is a broad hoop or bracelet of iron, which is forced asunder far enough to permit the hand to enter, and is then hammered together tightly enough to prevent the hand from being withdrawn. After a while, if the sum be not paid, the bracelet is hammered a little tighter; and so the creditor continues to tighten the iron until it is driven into the flesh, the course of the blood checked, and the hand finally destroyed by mortification.

Should the Government be the creditor for unpaid tribute, a company of soldiers is quartered on the debtor, and he is obliged to feed them with the best of everything under pain of brutal ill-treatment. Of course this mode of enforcing payment often has the opposite effect, and, when a heavy tax has been proclaimed in a district, the people run away en masse from the villages. In such a case the headman of the village is responsible for the entire amount, and sometimes is obliged to make his escape with as much portable property as he can manage to carry off.

When rightly managed, the Abyssinians are a hospitable people. Some travellers take a soldier with them, and demand food and lodging. These of course are given, through fear, but without a welcome. The right mode is, that when a traveller comes to a village, he sits under a tree, and waits. The villagers soon gather round him, question him, and make remarks on his appearance with perfect candor. After he has undergone this ordeal, some one is sure to ask him to his house, and, should he happen to be a person of distinction, one of the chief men is certain to be his host.

When Mr. Parkyns was residing in Abyssinia, he always adopted this plan. On one occasion the headman invited him to his house, and treated him most hospitably, apologizing for the want of better food on the ground that he had lately been made liable for the tribute of a number of persons who had run away, and was consequently much reduced in the world. It proved that sixteen householders had escaped to avoid the tax, and that the unfortunate man had to pay the whole of it, amounting to a sum which forced him to sell his horse, mule, and nearly all his plough oxen, and, even when he was entertaining his visitor, he was in dread lest the soldiers should be quartered on him.

The question of hospitality naturally leads us to the cooking and mode of eating as practised in Abyssinia, about which so many strange stories have been told. We have all heard of Bruce’s account of the eating of raw meat cut from the limbs of a living bullock, and of the storm of derision which was raised by the tale. We will see how far he was borne out by facts.

The “staff of life” is prepared in Abyssinia much after the same fashion as in other parts of Africa, the grain being ground between two stones, and then made into a sort of very thin paste, about the consistency of gruel. This paste is allowed to remain in a jar for a day and night in order to become sour, and is then taken to the oven. This is a very curious article, being a slab of earthenware in which a concave hollow is made, and furnished with a small cover of the same material. A fire is made beneath the oven, or “magogo,” as it is termed, and when it is hot the baker, who is always a woman, proceeds to work.

She first rubs the hollow with an oily seed in order to prevent the bread from adhering to it, and then with a gourd ladle takes some of the thin dough from the jar. The gourd holds exactly enough to make one loaf, or rather cake. With a rapid movement the woman spreads the dough over the entire hollow, and then puts on the cover. In two or three minutes it is removed, and the bread is peeled off in one flat circular piece, some eighteen inches in width, and about the eighth of an inch in thickness. This bread, called “teff,” is the ordinary diet of an Abyssinian. It is very sour, very soft, and very spongy, and requires an experienced palate to appreciate it. There are several other kinds of bread, but the teff is that which is most valued.

As to the meat diet of the Abyssinians, it may be roughly divided into cooked and uncooked meat. Cooked meat is usually prepared from the least valued parts of the animal. It is cut up into little pieces, and stewed in a pot together with other ingredients, a considerable quantity of butter, and such an amount of capsicum pods that the whole mess is of a light red color, and a drop of it leaves a red stain on any garment on which it may happen to fall. This paste is called “dillikh,” and is made by grinding together a quantity of capsicum pods and an equal amount of onions, to which are added ginger, salt, black pepper, and other herbs, according to the taste of the preparer. The poorer class, who cannot afford meat, can still make dillikh paste, and live almost entirely on teff, clotted milk, and dillikh.

But the great treat for an Abyssinian epicure is the “broundo,” or raw meat, about which he is as fastidious as the European bon vivant about his sauces and ragouts. Not an Abyssinian will eat any animal which has incisor teeth in its upper jaw, and, like the Jews, they even reject the camel, because it has not a cloven hoof.

According to the account given by Bruce, when a dinner party is assembled, a cow is brought to the door of the house, bound, flung down, and a few drops of its blood poured on the ground in order to save the letter of the Mosaic law. The butchers then cut large strips of meat from the poor beast, taking care to avoid the vital parts and larger vessels, and managing so as to remove the flesh without much effusion of blood.

The still warm flesh is taken within the house, where it is sliced into strips by the men, and handed to the women who sit by their side. The women cut it up into small squares, lay it on the “teff” bread, season it plentifully with the dillikh paste, roll it up into balls, and push the balls into the mouth of their companion, who eats until he is satisfied, and then reciprocates the attention by making up a couple of similar balls, and putting them into the mouths of the women. (See page 643.) Mead and tedge are then consumed as largely as the meat, and, according to Bruce, a scene of the most abominable licentiousness accompanies the conclusion of the festival.

These statements have been much controverted, but there is no doubt that, in the main, the narrative of Bruce was a truthful one. Many of the facts of which he wrote have since been corroborated, while the changes to which Abyssinia has been subjected will account for unimportant variations. Later travellers, for example, have not witnessed such a scene as has been narrated by Bruce, but that is no reason why such a scene should not have occurred. The most important part of it, namely, the eating of raw flesh, has been repeatedly corroborated, especially by Mansfield Parkyns, who lived so long with the Abyssinians, dressed like them, fed like them, and accommodated himself in most respects to their mode of life.

He found that meat was always, if possible, eaten in the raw state, only the inferior qualities being made fit for consumption by cookery. His description of the mode of eating tallies exactly with that of Bruce. The meat is always brought to the consumer while still warm and quivering with life, as it becomes tough and stringy when suffered to become cold. Each guest is furnished with plenty of teff and the invariable pepper sauce. His fingers take the place of a fork, and his sword, or shotel, does duty for a knife. Holding the broundo in his left hand, he takes into his capacious mouth as much as it can accommodate, and then, with an adroit upward stroke of the sword, severs the piece of meat, and just contrives to avoid cutting off his nose. He alternates the pieces of meat with teff and dillikh, and, when he has finished, refreshes himself copiously with drink.

Such food as this appears to be indescribably disgusting, and very unfit for a nation that prides itself on its Christianity. Many persons, indeed, have said that no one could eat raw meat except when pressed by starvation, and have therefore discredited all accounts of the practice.

Perhaps my readers may remember that after Bruce’s return a gentleman was making very merry with this account in the traveller’s presence, treating the whole story as a fabrication, on the ground that to eat raw meat was impossible. Bruce said nothing, but quietly left the room, and presently returned with a piece of beef rolled and peppered after the Abyssinian fashion, and gave his astonished opponent the choice of eating the meat or fighting him on the spot. As Bruce was of gigantic strength and stature, and an accomplished swordsman to boot, the meat was eaten, and the fact proved to be possible.

Mr. Parkyns, who, when in Abyssinia, very wisely did as the Abyssinians do, found that he soon became accustomed to the taste of raw meat, and learned how to prefer one part of an animal to another. He discovered that a very good imitation of an oyster could be made by chopping up a sheep’s liver very fine, and seasoning it with pepper, vinegar, and a little salt, provided that the consumer shut his eyes while eating it. He even learned to appreciate a dish called chogera, which seems to be about the very acme of abomination. It consists of the liver and stomach chopped up fine, mixed with a little of the half-digested grass found in the stomach, flavored with the contents of the gall bladder, plentifully seasoned with pepper, salt, and onions, and eaten uncooked.

An Abyssinian’s digestion is marvellous, and almost rivals that of a pike, which will digest half of a fish in its stomach while the other half is protruding from its mouth. He will go to any number of feasts in a day, and bring a fine fresh appetite to each of them, consuming at a meal a quantity that would suffice seven or eight hungry Englishmen. Mr. Parkyns once gave a breakfast to fourteen guests, thinking that, as they were engaged for three or four other feasts on the same day, they would perhaps eat but little.

Keeping up, however, the old hospitable customs, he killed a cow and two fat sheep, and provided many gallons of mead and an infinite quantity of “teff.” To his astonishment, the whole of this enormous supply vanished, as he says, “like smoke,” before his guests, who left scarcely a scrap for their servants. And, after this feast, the whole of the party proceeded to another house, where they were treated in a similarly liberal manner, and employed the day in a series of four or five such banquets.

The Abyssinians are very fastidious respecting the part of the animal from which the broundo is cut, and have a vast number of names to express the different qualities of meat. The most valued portion is the hump of the shoulder, the first cut of which is always given to the man of the highest rank. Consequently, when several men of nearly equal rank meet, a polite controversy is carried on for some time, each offering the cut of honor to his neighbor.

On one occasion this piece of etiquette produced fatal results. Several Amhara chiefs were present, together with one Tigréan. The latter, in order to assert the superiority of his own province, drew his sword and helped himself to the first cut, whereupon he was immediately challenged by two Amhara warriors. He accepted the challenge, fought them both, killed them both, and so vindicated the course which he had taken.

The quantity which an Abyssinian will eat when he gets the chance must be seen to be appreciated. See for example Mr. Parkyns’ account of a feast at an Abyssinian wedding:—

“The Abyssinian guests were squatted round the tables in long rows, feeding as if their lives depended on the quantity they could devour, and washing it down with floods of drink. I never could have believed that any people could take so much food, and certainly, if the reader wishes to see a curious exhibition in the feeding line, he has only to run over to Abyssinia, and be present at a wedding-feast.

“Imagine two or three hundred half-naked men and women all in one room, eating and drinking in the way I have described in a former chapter, but with this difference—that the private party is well ordered and arranged, while the public ‘hang-out’ is a scene of the most terrible confusion. Here all decorum is lost sight of; and you see the waiters, each with a huge piece of raw beef in his hands, rushing frantically to and fro in his desire to satisfy the voracious appetites of the guests, who, as he comes within their reach, grasp the meat, and with their long crooked swords hack off a lump or strip, as the case may be, in their eagerness not to lose their share.

“One man was reported on this occasion to have eaten ‘tallak’ and ‘tamash’ of raw beef (each weighing from four to five pounds) and seven cakes of bread, and to have drunk twenty-six pints of beer and ‘tedge.’ From what I saw I can believe a good deal, but this appears rather a ‘stretcher.’

“We of the Frank sect were presented with our share of the ‘broundo;’ but as our thoughtful host had informed us that a dinner, cooked by his own hands in the Turkish style, was awaiting us in an inner apartment, we merely, for formality’s sake, tasted the offered delicacies, and then handed them over to our servants, who, standing behind us, were ready enough to make away with them. The silversmith Michael, before coming to the feast, had, it would appear, been pouring a tolerably copious libation to some god or other, for he was considerably elevated, and, being anxious to show off, commenced eating in the Abyssinian fashion, nor did he stop until he had cut a large gash in his nose.”

The hands are always carefully washed both before and after a meal. Just before the feast is over, the servants come round with baskets to the guests, each of whom places in the basket a portion of his food. As to the little boys, they crawl about under the tables, and among the legs of the guests, and are always ready for any fragments that may be accidentally dropped or intentionally given to them.

The beer, or “tedge,” and mead, which have been mentioned, are favorite drinks among the Abyssinians. The former is very thick and gruel-like, and to a European is very repulsive. The latter, however, is tolerably good, and is kept carefully in large jars. The mouth of each jar is covered with a piece of cotton cloth drawn tightly over it. This is not removed when the mead is poured out, and acts as a strainer.