Chapter X: Part 10

Continuing to stem the current of the Nile, admiring as they moved along the extraordinary scenery which its banks presented, they arrived at the village of Nizelet ul Arab, where the first plantations of sugar-cane which Bruce had met with in Egypt occurred. A narrow strip of green wheat bordered the stream during the greater part of its course, while immediately behind a range of white mountains appeared, square and flat like tables on the summit, and seeming rather to be laid upon the earth than to spring out of and form a part of it. The villages on the shore were poor, but intermingled with large verdant groves of palm-trees, contrasting singularly with the arid and barren aspect of the rocky ridges behind them; and presenting many features of novelty, they were not without their interest.

On arriving at Achmim he landed his quadrant and instruments for the purpose of observing an eclipse of the moon; but the heavens soon after her rising became so obscured by clouds and mist, that not a star of any size was to be seen. Malaria here produced extraordinary effects upon the inhabitants, or rather on the female portion of them; for while the men were vigorous and active, from their constant motion and change of air, the women, who remained more at home, were of a corpse-like colour, and looked more aged at sixteen than many Englishwomen at sixty. They were nubile, however, at ten years old; and Bruce saw several who had not yet attained the age of eleven who were about to become mothers.

In the afternoon of December 24th they arrived in the vicinity of Dendera, which they visited next morning, and found it in the midst of a thick grove of palm-trees. Having examined its gigantic temples, sculptures, and hieroglyphics, he returned to his station on the river. It was in this neighbourhood that he first saw the crocodiles. They were lying in hundreds, like large flocks of cattle, upon every island, yet inspired little or no terror in the inhabitants, who suffered their beasts of every kind to stand in the water for hours; while the women and girls who came to fetch water in jars waded up to their knees in the stream.

They arrived, January 7, 1769, at El Gourni, which in Bruce’s opinion formed a part of ancient Thebes. The stupendous character of the ruins, the temples, the palaces, the sepulchres, the sarcophagi, the antique paintings,—every thing appeared equally to deserve attention; but his time was short, and he employed it in copying a curious fresco executed in brilliant colours on the wall of a tomb. He would have remained longer, but his guides, pretending apprehension of danger from the robbers of the neighbouring mountain, refused to continue their aid, and, dashing their torches against the walls, retreated, leaving him and his people in the dark. He then visited Saxor and Karnac, where he observed two beautiful obelisks and two vast rows of mutilated sphinxes, which, with similar lines of dog-headed figures, probably formed the avenue of some magnificent structure.

From thence they proceeded to Sheikh Ammor, the encampment of the Ababdé Arabs. Bruce had met with Ibrahim, the sheikh’s son, at Furshoot; and now, upon his arrival, this young man came forth with twelve armed followers to meet him, and, conducting him into a tent, presented him to his father, Sheikh Nimmer, or the “Tiger Chief.” The old man was ill, and Bruce’s medical knowledge now enabled him, by allaying the sufferings of the sheikh, to acquire a powerful and a grateful friend. Observing the hospitable and friendly manner of Nimmer, our traveller said, “Now tell me, sheikh, and tell me truly upon the faith of an Arab,—would your people, if they met me in the desert, do me any wrong?”

The old man upon this rose from his carpet and sat upright, and a more ghastly and more horrid figure, says Bruce, I never saw. “No,” he replied; “cursed be those of my people or others that ever shall lift up their hands against you, either in the deserts or the _tell_ (the uncultivated land). As long as you are in this country, or between this and Kosseir, my son shall serve you with heart and hand. One night of pain from which your medicines have relieved me would not be repaid were I to follow you on foot to _Misr_” (Cairo).

They then discussed together the means of facilitating Bruce’s entrance into Abyssinia, and, after much consideration, it was agreed that the most practicable route was by way of Kosseir and Jidda. The principal persons of the tribe then bound themselves by an oath not to molest or injure the traveller; but, on the contrary, in case he should ever require it, to protect him at the hazard of their lives. They would have extended their liberality still further, intending to present him with seven sheep, but these, as he was going among Turks who were obliged to maintain him, he requested they would keep for him until his return. They then parted.

At Assuan, which he next day reached, he was very politely entertained by the Turkish aga, who had received instructions from the bey to behave respectfully towards the stranger. From thence he proceeded, on beasts furnished by the aga, to the cataracts. On leaving the town they passed over a small sandy plain, where there were numerous tombs with Arabic inscriptions in the Kufic character; and after riding about five miles farther, arrived at the cataracts. The fall of the waters is here so inconsiderable that vessels are able to pass up and down; but the bed of the river, which may perhaps be about half a mile in breadth, is divided into numerous small channels by enormous blocks of granite, from thirty to forty feet in height. Against these the river, running over a sloping bottom, through a channel of insufficient breadth, dashes with extreme noise and violence, and is thrown back in foam and a thousand whirling eddies, which, eternally mingling with each other, produce a disturbed and chaotic appearance which fills the mind with confusion.

On the 26th of January, after much altercation with his host, he embarked in his kanja, and began to descend the river. Having reached Badjoura, he employed himself until the departure of the caravan, with which he was to cross the desert to Kosseir, in examining the observations he had made, and in preparing his journal for publication; in order that, should he perish, the labours he had already achieved might not be lost. This done, he forwarded them to his friends at Cairo till he should return, or news should arrive that he was otherwise disposed of.

On the 16th of February the caravan set out from Ghena (the Cæne Emporium of antiquity), and proceeded over plains of inconceivable sterility towards the Red Sea. “The sun,” says Bruce, “was burning hot, and, upon rubbing two sticks together, in half a minute they both took fire and flamed; a mark how near the country was reduced to a general conflagration!”

It was whispered about in the caravan that the Atouni Arabs were lying in wait for them somewhere on the road; and on their arrival at the wells of El Egheita, therefore, they halted to wait for the coming up of the caravans of Cus, Esneh, and Ebanout, in order to oppose as formidable a number as possible to the enemy. While they were at this place, Abd el Gin, or the “Slave of the Genii,” an Arab whom Bruce had received into his kanja on the Nile, and treated with much kindness, came up to him, and requested that he would take charge of his money, which amounted to nineteen sequins and a half. “What, Mohammed!” said Bruce, “are you never safe among your countrymen, neither by sea nor land?”—“Oh, no,” replied Mohammed; “the difference when we were on board the boat was, we had three thieves only; but when assembled here, we shall have above three thousand. But I have a piece of advice to give you.”—“And my ears, Mohammed,” said the traveller, “are always open to advice, especially in strange countries.”—“These people,” continued Mohammed, “are all afraid of the Atouni Arabs, and, when attacked, they will run away and leave you in the hands of these Atouni, who will carry off your baggage. Therefore, as you have nothing to do with their corn, do not kill any of the Atouni if they come, for that will be a bad affair, but go aside, and let me manage. I will answer with my life, that though all the caravan should be stripped stark naked, and you loaded with gold, not one article belonging to you shall be touched.” And upon putting numerous questions to the man, Bruce was so well satisfied with his replies that he determined to conform in every respect to his advice.

While the minds of all present were busied in calculating the extent of their dangers, and the probabilities of escape, twenty Turks from Caramania, mounted on camels, and well armed, arrived at the camp, and learning that the principal tent belonged to an Englishman, entered it without ceremony. They informed our traveller they were hajjis, going on pilgrimage to Mecca, and had been robbed upon the Nile by those swimming banditti, who, like the Decoits of the Ganges, are indescribably dexterous in entering vessels by night, and plundering in silence. By the people of the country they had, in fact, been ill-treated, they said, ever since their landing at Alexandria; but that having now found an Englishman, whom they regarded as their countryman, since the English, according to their historical hypothesis, came originally from Caz Dangli in Asia Minor, they hoped, by uniting themselves with him, to be able to protect themselves against their enemies. This preference was flattering, and “I cannot conceal,” says Bruce, “the secret pleasure I had in finding the character so firmly established among nations so distant, enemies to our religion, and strangers to our government. Turks from Mount Taurus, and Arabs from the desert of Libya, thought themselves unsafe among their own countrymen, but trusted their lives and their little fortunes implicitly to the direction and word of an Englishman whom they had never before seen!”

On the 19th they continued their journey over the desert between mountains of granite, porphyry, marble, and jasper, and pitched their tents at _Mesag el Terfowy_, in the neighbourhood of the Arab encampment. This, under most circumstances, is a position of considerable danger; for, as there are generally thieves in all caravans, as well as in all camps, marauders from one side or the other commonly endeavour to exercise their profession in the night, and embroil their companions. Such was the case on the present occasion. The thieves from the Arab camp crept unseen into Bruce’s tent, where they were detected, endeavouring to steal a portmanteau. One of them escaped; but the other, less nimble, or less fortunate, was taken, and beaten so severely, that he shortly afterward died. At this moment Bruce was absent; but on his return, a messenger from Sidi Hassan, chief of the caravan, summoned him to appear before him. It being late, our traveller refused. Other messengers followed—the camp was kept in unintermitted anxiety all night—and after much altercation and gasconading on both sides, fear of the Atouni Arabs at length induced them to calm their passions and consult their interest.

Proceeding in their course, however, without encountering an enemy of any kind, they arrived on the morning of the 21st in sight of the Red Sea, and in little more than an hour after entered Kosseir. Here he established himself in a house, and amused himself with observing the manners of the motley crowds assembled in the town. Next morning, being in a fishing-dress on the beach, seeking for shells, a servant came running in great haste to inform him that the Ababdé Arabs, to the number of four hundred, had arrived, and that having met with Mohammed Abd el Gin, whom they discovered to be an Atouni, had hurried him away with intent to cut his throat, there being blood between his tribe and theirs.

Together with this news the servant had brought a horse, and Bruce, without a moment’s reflection, sprang upon his back, and driving through the town in the direction which had been pointed out, quickly arrived at the Ababdé encampment. Upon his drawing near a number of them surrounded him on horseback, and began to speak together in their own language. The traveller now began to think he had advanced a step too far. They had lances in their hands, one thrust of which would have stretched him upon the earth; and by their looks he did not think they were greatly averse to using them. However, there was no retreating, so he inquired whether they were Ababdé, from Sheikh Ammor, and if so, how was the Nimmer, and where was Ibrahim. Upon their acknowledging that they were Ababdé, he gave them the _salaam_; but, without returning it, one of them demanded who he was. “Tell me first,” replied Bruce, “who is this you have before you?”—“He is an Arab, our enemy,” said they, “guilty of our blood.”—“He is my servant,” replied the traveller; “a Howadat, whose tribe lives in peace at the gates of Cairo!—but where is Ibrahim, your sheikh’s son?”—“Ibrahim is at our head, he commands us here; but who are you?”—“Come with me, and show me Ibrahim, and you shall see!” replied Bruce.

They had already thrown a rope about the neck of their prisoner, who, though nearly strangled, conjured Bruce not to leave him; but the latter, observing a spear thrust up through the cloth of one of the tents, the mark of sovereignty, hastened towards it, and saw Ibrahim and one of his brothers at the door. He had scarcely descended, and taken hold of the pillar of the tent, exclaiming _Fiar duc_, “I am under your protection,” when they both recognised him, and said, “What, are you Yagoube, our physician and friend?”—“Let me ask you,” replied Bruce, “if you are the Ababdé of Sheikh Ammor, who cursed yourselves and your children if ever you lifted a hand against me or mine, in the desert or in the ploughed field? If you have repented of that oath, or sworn falsely on purpose to deceive me, here I am come to you in the desert.”—“What is the matter?” said Ibrahim; “we _are_ the Ababdé of Sheikh Ammor—there are no other—and we still say, ‘Cursed be he, whether our father or children, who lifts his hand against you, in the desert or in the ploughed field!’”—“Then,” replied Bruce, “you are all accursed, for a number of your people are going to murder my servant.”—“Whew,” said Ibrahim, with a kind of whistle, “that is downright nonsense. Who are those of my people who have authority to murder and take prisoners while I am here! Here, one of you, get upon Yagoube’s horse, and bring that man to me.” Then turning to Bruce, he desired him to go into the tent and sit down; “for God renounce me and mine,” said he, “if it is as you say, and one of them hath touched the hair of his head, if ever he drinks of the Nile again!”

Upon inquiry it was discovered that Sidi Hassan,[11] the captain of the caravan, had been the cause of this attempt at murder; having, in revenge for Ab del Gin’s discovering the robber in Bruce’s tent, denounced him to the Ababdé as an Atouni spy.

Footnote 11:

Upon parting with Ibrahim, Bruce, enraged at the baseness and
treachery of Sidi Hassan, entreated the young chief to revenge his
wrongs upon this man, which was solemnly promised. Upon coolly
considering the action, when he came to write his travels, he says, “I
cannot help here accusing myself of what, doubtless, may be well
reputed a very great sin.” Major Head, relating this transaction,
quotes the following addition to the above sentence: “the more so,
that I cannot say I have yet heartily repented of it.” This would have
argued extreme cold-heartedness, to say the least of it; but the words
are not found in the original quarto edition, whatever they may be in
others of comparatively no authority.

While waiting for a ship bound for Tor, he undertook a short voyage to the Mountains of Emeralds, or Jibbel Zumrud, where he found the ancient pits, and many fragments of a green crystalline mineral substance, veiny, clouded, but not so hard as rock-crystal. This he supposed was the _smaragdus_ of the Romans, and the _siberget_ and _bilur_ of the Ethiopians, but by no means identical with the genuine emerald, which is equal in hardness to the ruby. Returning to Kosseir, he forthwith commenced his survey of the Red Sea. Having visited the northern portion of the gulf, he arrived, almost overcome with fatigue, and suffering much from ague, at Jidda, where there were a great number of Englishmen, from whom he very naturally expected a hospitable reception.

It must be acknowledged, however, that on this occasion, as on many others, Bruce’s conduct bordered strongly upon the absurd. His dress and whole appearance were those of a common Turkish sailor, which as long as he remained on board might be very prudent; but when he came to present himself before his countrymen, from whom he expected the treatment due to a gentleman, it would have been decorous either to have improved his costume, or have given two or three words of explanation. He did neither, but desired the servant of the _Emir el Bahr_, or “harbour-master,” who had run over the names of all the English captains then in port, to conduct him to a relation of his own, who, when they arrived, was accidentally leaning over the rail of the staircase leading up to his own apartment. Bruce saluted him by his name, but without announcing his own; and the captain, no less hasty than himself, fell into a violent rage, called him “villain, thief, cheat,” and “renegado rascal,” declaring that if he attempted to proceed a step farther, he would throw him over the stairs. The traveller went away without reply, followed by the curses and abuse of his polite relative.

“Never fear,” said the servant, shrugging up his shoulders, “I will carry you to the best of them all.” He was now conducted to the apartment of Captain Thornhill, but having entered the room, “I was not,” says Bruce, “desirous of advancing much farther, for fear of the salutation of being thrown down stairs again. He looked very steadily, but not sternly, at me; and desired the servant to go away and shut the door. ‘Sir,’ says he, ‘are you an Englishman? You surely are sick, you should be in your bed: have you been long sick?’ I said, ‘Long, sir,’ and bowed. ‘Are you wanting a passage to India?’ I again bowed. ‘Well,’ says he, ‘you look to be a man in distress; if you have a secret I shall respect it till you please to tell it me, but if you want a passage to India, apply to no one but Thornhill of the Bengal Merchant. Perhaps you are afraid of somebody, if so, ask for Mr. Greig, my lieutenant, he will carry you on board my ship directly, where you will be safe.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I hope you will find me an honest man: I have no enemy that I know, either in Jidda or elsewhere, nor do I owe any man any thing.’ ‘I am sure,’ says he, ‘I am doing wrong in keeping a poor man standing who ought to be in his bed. Here! Philip, Philip!’ Philip appeared. ‘Boy,’ says he, in Portuguese, which, as I imagine, he supposed I did not understand, ‘here is a poor Englishman that should be either in his bed or his grave; carry him to the cook, tell him to give him as much broth and mutton as he can eat. The _fellow_ seems to have been starved—but I would rather have the feeding of ten to India, than the burying of one at Jidda.’”

Bruce kept up the farce some time longer; despatched the mutton and the broth; and then threw himself at full length upon the mat in the courtyard, and fell asleep. The arrival of the Vizier of Jidda, who, in the traveller’s absence, had opened his trunks, and been terrified at the sight of the grand seignior’s firman, now disclosed Bruce’s rank and consequence to the English factory, and his acting the poor man was laughed at and excused.

His countrymen, when his objects and purposes were explained, did whatever was in their power for the furtherance of his views. Letters to the governor of Masuah, the King of Abyssinia, Ras Michael, and the King of Sennaar, were procured from Metical Aga and other influential persons, and a person who required a few weeks to prepare for the journey was appointed to accompany him. The time which must elapse before this man could be ready, Bruce employed in completing his survey of the Red Sea.

Having been joined at Loheia by Mohammed Gibberti, the person commissioned by the authorities of Jidda to accompany him to Masuah, he sailed from that part of Yemen on the 3d of September, 1769, and on the 19th cast anchor in the harbour of Masuah. This is a small island, lying directly opposite the town of Arkeeko, on the Abyssinian shore; and at the time of Bruce’s visit was under the authority of a governor holding his title by firman from the Ottoman Porte, under condition of paying an annual tribute. The Turkish power having greatly decayed in the Red Sea, this governor, or naybe, had gradually assumed the independent authority of a sovereign; though, in order to command a sufficient supply of provisions from Abyssinia, he had agreed to share with the sovereign of that country the customs of the port. Observing, however, the disorderly state of the government, he had lately withheld from the Abyssinian monarch his portion of the revenue, which had so far irritated Ras Michael, then at the head of the government, that he had caused it to be signified to the naybe “that, in the next campaign, he would lay waste Arkeeko and Masuah, until they should be as desert as the wilds of Samhar!”

While affairs were in this position, the naybe received intelligence that an English prince was about to arrive at Masuah on his way to Abyssinia; and it was forthwith debated by him and his counsellors in full divan, whether he should be hospitably received or murdered immediately upon his arrival. Through the influence of Achmet, the nephew and heir-apparent of the governor, pacific measures were resolved upon.

Being desirous of enjoying one night’s repose to prepare him for the toilsome contentions which he foresaw would arise, Bruce did not land until the next day; but Mohammed Gibberti went immediately on shore, and contrived to despatch letters to the court of Abyssinia, announcing Bruce’s arrival, and requesting that some one might be sent to protect him from the well-known rapacity and cruelty of the governor. He then waited upon this petty despot and his nephew, and artfully endeavoured to inspire them with very exalted notions of our traveller’s rank and consequence. The way being thus skilfully paved, Bruce himself landed next morning. He was received in a friendly manner by Achmet, who, when they had seated themselves, after the usual salutation, commanded coffee to be brought in, as a sign to the traveller that his life was not in danger. He then observed, with a somewhat serious air, “We have expected you here some time, but thought you had changed your mind, and were gone to India.”—“Since sailing from Jidda,” replied Bruce, “I have been in Arabia Felix, the Gulf of Mokha, and crossed last from Loheia.”—“Are you not afraid,” said he, “so thinly attended, to venture upon these long and dangerous voyages?”—“The countries where I have been,” Bruce replied, “are either subject to the Emperor of Constantinople, whose firman I have now the honour to present you, or to the Regency of Cairo, and Port of Janizaries—here are their letters—or to the Sheriff of Mecca. To you, sir, I present the sheriff’s letters; and, besides these, one from Metical Aga, your friend, who depending on your character, assured me this alone would be sufficient to preserve me from ill-usage, so long as I did no wrong. As for the danger of the road from banditti and lawless persons, my servants are indeed few, but they are veteran soldiers, tried and exercised from their infancy in arms, and I value not the superior numbers of cowardly and disorderly persons.”

To this Achmet made no reply, but returning him the letters, said, “You will give these to the naybe to-morrow. I will keep Metical’s letter, as it is to me, and will read it at home.” He put it accordingly in his bosom; and on Bruce’s rising to take his leave, he was wet to the skin by a deluge of orange-flower water, poured upon him from silver bottles by his attendants. He was now conducted to a very decent house, which had been assigned him, whither his baggage was all sent unopened.

Late in the evening he was surprised by a visit from Achmet, who came alone, unarmed, and half-naked. Bruce expressed his acknowledgments for the civility which had been shown him in sending his baggage unopened; but Achmet, more solicitous to do good than listen to compliments, at once turned the discourse into another channel; and, after several questions respecting his rank and motives for travelling, advised him by no means to enter Abyssinia, and let fall some few hints respecting the character of the people of Masuah. To express his gratitude, and secure a continuance of his good offices, Bruce begged his acceptance of a pair of pistols.

“Let the pistols remain with you,” says Achmet, “till I send you a man to whom you may say any thing; and he shall go between you and me, for there is in this place a number of devils, not men. But, _Ullah kerim_! (God is merciful.) The person that brings you dry dates in an Indian handkerchief, and an earthen bottle to drink your water out of, give him the pistols. You may send by him to me any thing you choose. In the mean time sleep sound, and fear no evil; but never be persuaded to trust yourself to the Kafro of Habesh at Masuah.”

Next morning the governor returned from Arkeeko, attended by three or four servants miserably mounted, and about forty naked savages on foot, armed with short lances and crooked knives. Before him was beaten a drum, formed of an earthen jar, such as they send butter in to Arabia, covered over at the mouth with a skin, like a jar of pickles. Bruce’s reception by this ferocious despot was inauspicious. On his presenting to him the firman of the grand seignior, upon seeing which the greatest pacha in the Turkish empire would have risen, kissed it, and lifted it to his forehead; he pushed it back contemptuously, and said, “Do you read it all to me, word for word.” Bruce replied that it was written in the Turkish language, of which he comprehended not a word. “Nor I neither,” said the naybe, “and I believe I never shall.”

The traveller then gave him his letters of recommendation, which he laid down unopened beside him, and said, “You should have brought a moollah along with you. Do you think I shall read all these letters? Why, it would take me a month!” And while he spoke he glared upon his guest with his mouth open, so extremely like an idiot, that it was with the utmost difficulty Bruce kept his gravity. However, he replied, “Just as you please—you know best.”

After a short conversation in Arabic, which the naybe at first affected not to understand, our traveller brought forward his present, which the naybe understood without the assistance of a moollah, and shortly afterward took his leave.

The inhabitants of Masuah were at this time dying so rapidly of the small-pox, that there was some reason to fear the living would not suffice to bury the dead. The whole island was filled with shrieks and lamentations both day and night; and they at last began to throw the bodies into the sea, which deprived Bruce and his servants of the support they had derived from fish, of which some of the species caught there were excellent.

On the 15th of October, the naybe, having despatched the vessel in which Bruce had arrived, began to put out his true colours, and, under various pretences, demanded an enormous present. Bruce, of course, refused compliance. He then sent for him to his house, and after venting his fury in a storm of abuse, concluded by saying, in a peremptory tone, that unless our traveller were ready in a few days to pay him three ounces of gold, he would confine him in a dungeon, without light, air, or food, until his bones should come through his skin for want. To aggravate the affair, an uncle of his, then present, added, that whatever the naybe might determine respecting his own demands, he could in nowise abate a jot from those of the janizaries; which, however, in consideration of the letter he had brought from the port of the janizaries at Cairo, were moderate—only forty ounces of gold.

To all this Bruce replied firmly, “Since you have broken your faith with the grand seignior, the government of Cairo, the pasha at Jidda, and Metical Aga, you will no doubt do as you please with me; but you may expect to see the English man-of-war the Lion before Arkeeko some morning by daybreak.”

“I should be glad,” said the naybe, “to see that man at Arkeeko or Masuah who would carry as much writing from you to Jidda as would lie upon my thumb-nail. I would strip his shirt off first, and then his skin, and hang him up before your door to teach you more wisdom.”

“But my wisdom,” replied Bruce, “has taught me to prevent all this. My letter has already gone to Jidda; and if in twenty days from this another letter from me does not follow it, you will see what will arrive. In the mean time, I here announce to you that I have letters from Metical Aga and the Sheriff of Mecca, to Michael Suhul, governor of Tigrè, and the King of Abyssinia. I therefore would wish that you would leave off these unmanly altercations, which serve no sort of purpose, and let me continue my journey.”

The naybe now muttered in a low voice to himself, “What, Michael too! then go your journey, and think of the ill that’s before you!” Upon which the traveller left him.

Other altercations, still more violent, ensued, and attempts were made by the creatures of the naybe to break into his house and murder him in the night; but these were constantly defeated by the courage and fidelity of his servants. Achmet, too, the nephew of the naybe, exerted whatever influence he possessed in behalf of the traveller; who, in return, was, under Providence, the means of preserving his life; for Achmet at this time falling ill of an intermittent fever, Bruce assiduously attended and prescribed for him, and in the course of a few days had the satisfaction of pronouncing him out of danger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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