Chapter IX

We remained two days at Korata in order to replenish our stock of grain and other provisions. During this time I watched the birds of prey as closely as I could. They are of the same species as those found in the Soudan, and my rough and brief observations, so far as they went, altogether confirmed the interesting remarks of Sir S. Baker on the subject. The passage illustrates so well the brilliant combination in that explorer of keen sportsmanship, and rare ability in the study of natural history that I need offer no apology for quoting it:—

“A question has been frequently discussed whether the vulture is directed to his prey by the sense of smell, or by keenness of vision; I have paid much attention to their habits, and, although there can be no question that their power of scent is great, I feel convinced that all birds of prey are attracted to their food principally by their acuteness of sight. If a vulture were blind it would starve; but were the nostrils plugged up with some foreign substance to destroy its power of smell, it would not materially interfere with its usual mode of hunting. Scent is always stronger near the surface of the ground: thus hyenas, lions, and other beasts of prey will scent a carcase from a great distance, provided they are to leeward; but the same animals would be unaware of the presence of the body if they were but a short distance to windward.

“If birds of prey trusted to their nostrils, they would keep as near the ground as possible, like the carrion crow, which I believe is the exception that proves the rule. It is an astonishing sight to witness the sudden arrival of vultures at the death of an animal, when a few moments before not a bird has been in sight in the cloudless sky. I have frequently lain down beneath a bush after having shot an animal, to watch the arrival of the various species of birds in regular succession; they invariably appear in the following order:—

“No. 1, the black and white crow: this knowing individual is most industrious is seeking for his food, and is generally to be seen either perched upon rocks or upon trees; I believe he trusts much to his sense of smell, as he is never far from the ground; at the same time he keeps a vigilant look-out with a very sharp pair of eyes.

“No. 2 is the common buzzard; this bird, so well known for its extreme daring, is omnipresent, and trusts generally to sight, as it will stoop at a piece of red cloth in mistake for flesh; thus proving that it depends more upon vision than smell.

“No. 3 is the red-faced small vulture.

“No. 4 is the large bare-throated vulture.

“No. 5 the marabou stork, sometimes accompanied by the adjutant.

“When employed in watching the habits of these birds it is interesting to make the experiment of concealing a dead animal beneath a dense bush. This I have frequently done; in which case the vultures never find it unless they have witnessed its death; if so, they will already have pounced in their descent while you have been engaged in concealing the body. They will then upon near approach discover it by the smell. But, if an animal is killed in thick grass, eight or ten feet high, the vultures will seldom discover it. I have frequently known the bodies of large animals, such as elephants and buffaloes, to lie for days beneath the shade of the dense nabbuk bushes, unattended by a single vulture; whereas, if visible, they would have been visited by these birds in thousands.

“Vultures and the marabou stork fly at enormous altitudes. I believe that every species keeps to its own particular elevation, and that the atmosphere contains regular strata of birds of prey, who, invisible to the human eye at that enormous height, are constantly resting upon their wide-spread wings, and, soaring in circles, watching with telescopic sight the world beneath. At that great elevation they are in an exceedingly cool temperature, therefore they require no water; but some birds that make long flights over arid deserts, such as the marabou stork and the bustard, are provided with water-sacs; the former in an external bag a little below the throat, the latter in an internal sac, both of which carry a large supply. As the birds of prey that I have enumerated invariably appear at a carcase in their regular succession, I can only suggest that they travel from different distances or altitudes. Thus, the marabou stork would be farthest from the earth; the large bare-necked vulture would be the next below him, followed by the red-faced vulture, the buzzard, and the crow that is generally about the surface. From their immense elevation, the birds of prey possess an extraordinary field of vision; and, although they are invisible from the earth, there can be no doubt that they are perpetually hunting in circles within sight of each other. Thus, should one bird discover some object upon the surface of the earth below, his sudden pounce would be at once observed and imitated by every vulture in succession. Should one vulture nearest the earth perceive a body, or even should he notice the buzzards collecting at a given point, he would at once become aware of a prey; his rush towards the spot would act like a telegraphic signal to others, that would be rapidly communicated to every vulture at successive airy stations.

“If an animal be skinned, the red surface will attract the vultures in an instant; this proves that their sight, and not their scent, has been attracted by an object that suggests blood. I have frequently watched them when I have shot an animal, and my people have commenced the process of skinning. At first, not a bird has been in sight, as I have lain on my back and gazed into the spotless blue sky; but hardly has the skin been half withdrawn, than specks have appeared in the heavens, rapidly increasing. ‘Caw, caw,’ has been heard several times from the neighbouring bushes; the buzzards have swept down close to my people, and have snatched a morsel of clotted blood from the ground. The specks have increased to winged creatures, at the great height resembling flies, when presently a rushing sound behind me, like a whirlwind, has been followed by the pounce of a red-faced vulture, that has fallen from the heavens in haste with closed wings to the bloody feast, followed quickly by many of his brethren. The sky has become alive with black specks in the far distant blue, with wings hurrying from all quarters. At length a coronet of steady soaring vultures forms a wide circle far above, as they hesitate to descend, but continue to revolve around the object of attraction. The great bare-necked vulture suddenly appears. The animal has been skinned, and the required flesh secured by the men; we withdraw a hundred paces from the scene. A general rush and descent takes place; hundreds of hungry beaks are tearing at the offal. The great bare-necked vulture claims respect among the crowd; but another form has appeared in the blue sky, and rapidly descends. A pair of long, ungainly legs, hanging down beneath the enormous wings, now touch the ground, and Abou Seen (father of the teeth or beak, the Arab name for the Marabou) has arrived, and he stalks proudly towards the crowds, pecking his way with his long bill through the struggling vultures, and swallowing the lion’s share of the repast. Abou Seen, last but not least, had arrived from the highest region, while others had the advantage of the start. This bird is very numerous through the Nile tributaries of Abyssinia, and may generally be seen perched upon the rocks of the waterside, watching for small fish, or any reptile that may chance to come within his reach. The well-known feathers are situated in a plume beneath the tail.”[81]

On the night of January 23, the thermometer sank to 29° F. just before sunrise, so no one turned out with alacrity, and we were later than usual in starting.

I was surprised to find that the boy Zody sought to attach himself to the expedition. While we were preparing to leave Korata he came to us and said, “You are good people and I want to go with you.” We raised no objection, and he joined our party. A little while afterwards he declared his intention of accompanying us to the Soudan. Thereupon he returned to Korata and “realized his capital” by selling the cow which he possessed. Then he overtook the expedition, and served throughout the journey to Gallabat, receiving the same pay as the other boys. He was smart, willing, and useful, soon learned from his comrades what our requirements were, and acted both as indoor and outdoor servant. He had no Arabic, and all intercourse between us was by signs, which he was extremely quick to understand. The motive that prompted him to render us service was undoubtedly his devoted loyalty to Crawley.

Most travellers have given the Habashes a thoroughly bad character. It is said that they are vain, greedy, treacherous, and cowardly. Though we Europeans had but few unpleasant experiences of them while we were in the country, I cannot say that I saw anything which would give me authority to dispute the conclusions of writers who knew them better from longer observation, and it is the more pleasant on this account to record an instance of an Abyssinian’s fidelity and cheerful good-will.

We marched through the familiar dry grass for about half an hour after we left Korata, and then reached the river Gelda at a place where, according to the “tout,” it was fordable. This is a muddy, rapid stream, flowing between earthy banks. Its bed here was soft and yielding, and there was not the least possibility of getting the beasts and baggage across. In fact, our guide had misled us. It was a most annoying waste of time. While we were shooting on the previous day we had seen a fording-place higher up the stream, and now struck towards it in spite of the “tout’s” assertion that the water there would be up to the men’s necks.

When we reached the spot, we found a shallow, fairly fast current flowing over a rocky bed. The guide was entirely unabashed by the fact that he had misdirected us and lied to us. After this we ceased to consult natives and planned our course according to Stecker’s map, and in this way managed the matter well enough. There are some small inaccuracies in the doctor’s work, but it is entirely sufficient for all practical purposes and a worthy record of the German traveller’s high attainments and untiring patience.

The ledges of rock which form the bed of the river at the upper ford are smooth and round, and in consequence very slippery. We had a busy time getting the donkeys over. Men had to be posted in the water to steady them as they crossed, but the real trouble was at the further bank. It was high and steep, and the way up was by a narrow cutting with a hard surface. The first wet donkey that passed along this made it as insecure for foothold as a slide, and the next donkey struggled and scrambled and fell back into the water. We had to tell off boys to shovel relays of earth on to the slope and then others grabbed the donkey’s load, its ear, its tail, or anything they could get a grip of, and shoved it up bodily. Another detachment was on duty on the top of the bank to prevent the animals from straying.

Beyond the river lies a steep hill about five hundred feet high. The ascent is by a track of the usual kind, about a foot and a half wide. The way down from the summit is very precipitous and was full of loose stones. These the donkeys often dislodged, and many rolled along and struck the animals that were moving in front, but we had no trouble with them.

We passed a village which is called Selselima, consisting of the usual tokhuls grouped about a round thatched church. Here I saw an example of Abyssinian methods of administration. A lad of about eighteen was standing in a field, watching us pass. Ras Gouksha’s man, the “tout,” went up to him, grabbed him by his gown, and began to question him. Soon another Abyssinian approached him, grasped the boy’s _shama_ in like manner, and also interrogated him. I inquired what they were asking, and was told they were seeking directions to guide them by the nearest way to the source of the Blue Nile, which was then some four miles distant. Presently without apparent reason, both our fellows began to belabour the lad with their staves. I rode up and ordered them sharply to desist, and explain to me what they were about. Thereupon they made off, and one of our escort told me they had been beating the boy so as to force him to act as their guide—without pay, of course—and accompany them to the river, though he had already given them full directions for the road.

The end of the descent brought us to the lake shore again, and we camped on the further bank of a little stream of clear water running in a rocky bed. It is called the Tschembolo. This is near to the village of Woreb, and is only two miles from the point where the Blue Nile flows from Lake Tsana. We could not proceed further that day, for the march had been a long one, and it was late already. So we halted upon this spot by the brook, as it was a very suitable camping-ground with a clean drinking supply, and determined to move on the morrow to a more central position, if we could find one, for the survey work which Crawley and Dupuis were to undertake.

Patients had followed me from Korata. They were people who had reached our camp there in the morning, after I had packed up the medicine-chest and mounted my mule. Some half a dozen had come over to Woreb after us, and were now waiting to see me. But I was dead tired that evening and refused to attend to them. There were no serious cases, and I told those who wished to have advice to return at nine o’clock the next morning. If I had made myself more accessible than I was, I should have been mobbed not only by the sick in Abyssinia, but by a host of people who fancied they had ailments.

_See p._ 132.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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