Puslapio vaizdai
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reticent, giving us an answer worthy of a European diplomatist. He said, "Only God and his Majesty know that." We then retired till our sable friend should become more communicative.

Asmara, where we camped for a time with Alula, is a village of at least 2000 inhabitants. The houses are built of stone, and are circular in form, with thatched, extinguisher-shaped roofs. Its church is also of the same material, and is highly decorated with crude pictures of the Virgin and Child, the apostles and saints. Before the sun left the plateau, presents came into camp, and Abyssinian hospitality began. Grain, chopped straw, thin cakes of unleavened bread, jars of honey, and horns of tedge, with two or three beeves and some black sheep, were the gifts for the day. The next morning we unpacked our presents for Alula and his lieutenant, Gabru. To the great chief we presented shot-guns, rifles, ammunition, and accoutrements, some pieces of silk, a carpet, and a Turkish ewer and basin, in brass-the latter not a reflection on his lack of ablution, for he was the cleanest native we had yet met. Gabru received a rifle, a carpet, and some whisky-the lastmentioned gift being more in accord with his taste than the ewer and basin, for we had our suspicions that he would have made a shield of the basin, and a jar for alcoholic drink of the ewer.

At sunrise on the third day of our advent into Abyssinia, we began our journey across the great table-land to Adowa, escorted by Alula with his whole army. The infantry in irregular masses ran on in advance; the cavalry in rough formations moved in our rear. As we journeyed at a quick walking-pace, the stream of footsoldiers in our front was augmented by stragglers who had been billeted in the adjacent villages. At a nod from Ras Alula, who rode on the right hand of the envoys, the cavalry would send forth. warriors galloping from each flank to do mimic battle with one another for

of dust raced one another to the camp, struggling up the rocky and almost perpendicular height on which stood the stronghold, three hundred feet above us.

The following day we said good-by for a time to Ras Alula, and started en route for Adowa. Traveling in a southerly direction, we left the Ras's stronghold on our left rear. Our route lay through roughly plowed patches of ground, between low, rocky hills, from which Addi Techlai, though impregnable to primitive modes of attack, could be made untenable by means of modern artillery.

In this part of the country our surgeon was kept busy with many operations. He had just extracted a stone bullet which had been in a man's foot for two years. The patient showed his gratitude by bringing in some cakes and honey. With the exception of a few cow-doctors and herbalists, these poor people are without medical aid. Disease is rampant everywhere, consumption prevailing; scrofula and other loathsome complaints come next. Seven out of every ten persons have some kind of disease that shows itself in sores and eruptions. No doubt their excessive dislike for water is one of the principal causes. The fashions of the women's headgear are various, and do not differ much

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our amusement, showing their dexterity Fred Willis

with lance or saber, each man seem-
ingly fighting desperately, trying to gain
a smile of approbation from his chief.
The nearer we approached Addi Techlai,
Alula's permanent camp, the warmer grew the
mimic fight; the warriors being stimulated
by the sight of their women watching their
prowess from the heights. A few hot-headed
youths used their swords in earnest, and blood
began to flow; but a signal from the Ras stop-
ped further mischief, and, the rough sport com-
ing to an end, the horsemen rejoined in our
rear. Suddenly, without any perceptible orders,
the cavalry broke into a gallop, and in a cloud

LAME CHILD.

ENGRAVED BY J. NAYLOR.

from the mode of the men. The hair is worn short and curly, or in thin plaits taken from the forehead back over the cranium in corduroy fashion to the nape of the neck, where it narrows and is fixed up in a knot. Young girls will shave their scalps close, leaving a halo of fringe, perhaps terminating in loose streamers behind. This fashion is indeed very pretty, especially when framing handsome faces, which are by no means uncommon in Abyssinia. Drapery thrown about their well-shaped figures (worn

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after death; that once every year he dips himself in the river on the festival of St. John the Baptist, and regularly every morning he wets the end of his toga with the moisture from his mouth and freshens up his eyes. Whenever he feels his hide harsh and uncomfortable, he anoints himself with mutton fat. Of a morning one may see the jeunesse dorée of a town stalking with body erect, and with about a pound of butter stuck on their heads, gradually melting under the increasing power of the sun. The men may look a shade cleaner occasionally, caused not by any act of their own, but through the accident of being for hours in a rain-storm, which at this season occurs daily; but even then the odor of rancid mutton fat impregnates the atmosphere wherever they may be.

In passing through the town of Godafallassi, a place of 350 houses, and boasting a market, we had some hopes of finding the inhabitants in better circumstances and condition. They were in even a worse state than the people of the villages we had passed through. They herded together in their huts with their cattle, fowls, dogs, cats, and a Noah's ark of insects, which they seem to foster with the greatest care, by not touching soap and using very little water. They were more or less civil, but show no particular courtesy to strangers. They preferred cloth or gaudily colored handkerchiefs to money for the coarse food they brought us.

Asmara, en route for the market of Massowah. On arriving on the edge of the plateau, a scene of great beauty presented itself. Our route lay down a wide gorge, opening on an ocean of little blue hills, looking with their purple hues like the wavelets of the Atlantic suddenly arrested in motion. Descending the precipitous sides of the plateau, a crowd of monkeys of all sizes and ages scampered away in great dismay, chattering and shrieking as some of our sportsmen fired in the air. The valley of Gundet, which we were now traversing, became famous by the utter rout of the Egyptians in their fight with the Abyssinians in November, 1876. Here the main body of the invaders, under the gallant young Dane, Colonel Arendrup Bey, was cut to pieces. Further on, toward the Mareb River, the vanguard under Count Zichy left their bones to rot in a forest of mimosa. As we passed this scene, their bleached remnants still lay scattered there, marking the spot where a rallying square had stood to stem the torrent of Abyssinian spearmen, who suddenly rushed down upon them from their rocky cover of enormous granite boulders that hemmed in the defile. Remaining a little in the rear of our party, one of our native guard described to me the manner of the attack: how the Ethiopians crept from their cover on hands and knees; the surprise of the enemy; the short struggle and sub

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sequent flight of the Egyptians, and their utter annihilation. The natives acknowledge to this day that Arendrup's troops fought dearly for their lives. In those days the Egyptians had some mettle in them. The battle of Gundet is memorable, as it was the beginning of the decay of Egyptian power in Ethiopia and the Soudan. Disorder and misfortune have overwhelmed them ever since, and the Turk, who was once regarded with fear and respect, is now looked upon in that part of the world with loathing and contempt. In the valley of Gundet the foliage varies from the monotony of the prickly mimosa to sycamore, butternut, and wild fig of many kinds, and on the banks of the Mareb weeping willows overhang its rocky bed.

Leaving this historical valley, we once more ascended hill after hill covered with dense fo

ENGRAVED BY J. W. EVANS.

liage, and here and there on their slopes were clearings with patches of cultivated ground. Always ascending, we at last reached the great Dari Teelai plain, one day's march from Adowa, our objective point. After traversing a sandy track for six hours, we encamped, but spent the last night of our long march in sleeplessness, on account of the cries of hyenas and jackals, and were made miserable by the visitations of spiders and scorpions, two of the party being severely bitten. In the early dawn we marched for the capital of northern Abyssinia. This last day's journey was considered by some of us the most difficult and trying of all. A magnificent view of the valleys and hills we had passed over in the last six days lay before us. A more picturesque but wild, inhospitable, and rugged-looking country one could hardly imagine. In the far distance, forming the hori

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rugged mountains reared themselves in volcanic confusion, their shapes so eccentric that they seemed to mingle with the thunder-clouds that were beginning to discharge their waters in a distant valley. Reluctantly turning our backs on this grand and impressive scene, we descended into the valley of Adowa. On one of the slopes far away to our left, from out the gray monotony of surrounding habitations, shone the golden Coptic cross on the haythatched cathedral of the city of Adowa.

The capital of Tigré, or northern Abyssinia, appears to have been once a city of much greater importance than it is at the present day. It consists of 800 or 900 habitations, covering the spurs of three hills on the southeast end of the valley, around which are scattered nu

and disjointed appearance for a representative city. As soon as we crossed the Mareb we found that the peasantry treated our advent with great indifference, and were very reluctant, in spite of excellent pay, to bring in supplies to our camp. This was owing, we discovered, to our arrival in the district belonging to the King's son- our powerful protector, Ras Alula, having no control out of his own country, though he was one of the most powerful of the Abyssinian chiefs, and the warden of the marches. The country is split up into petty chieftainships, the ruler of each district receiving all revenues from whatever sources, and having complete power of life and death over his people. His only obligation to the King is to follow him to war with all his available fight

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