Dufton visited the district of Tschelga with M. Lejean, the French Consul, who was then taking gifts from the Emperor Napoleon III. to King Theodore. M. Lejean found, when he attempted to make observations in this neighbourhood, that “the ferruginous nature of the rocks destroyed the determinative power of his delicate compass, sometimes, when placed on the ground to a matter of 90 degrees. The presence of iron was further evidenced by the slimy yellow deposits of oxide which some of the mountain rivulets make in their course. Beds of an inferior coal we also found in the plain of Tschelga, laid bare by a small stream which had dug for itself a passage of some forty feet deep. The fact of the presence of coal, not only here but also in many other parts of Abyssinia, seems to point to sources of wealth possessed by this country, which only an enlightened government is required to open out.”[54]
Mr. Vivian considers that the “one insuperable objection” to industrial enterprise in Abyssinia is “the monstrous craft and subtlety of the Abyssinian.” He wrote, “You or I might spend ourselves and our treasures in discovering coal, or copper, or iron, or gold, or emeralds; we might call new industries into being and establish an era of prosperity; but the Abyssinians would take all the profit, and we should be left out in the cold.”[55]
It seems to me, if one may say so without flippancy, that the introduction of a few mineowners from the Rand would soon show the Abyssinian that he is “a child in these matters.” A fertile country with an enormous range of climate, capable of well-nigh infinite variety of production, well watered, well wooded, and endowed with gold, iron, and coal is something more than a small mart for American shirtings and Russian oil.
To return to Tschenkar. The soil in this region is very rich, and there is a considerable cultivation of durrha and other grain and of chillies for cayenne pepper. This is the condiment universally used in Abyssinia. It is cooked with or added to every dish, and the natives, including the children, eat it in quantities which scorch the most hardened European gullet. When it is remembered that the Habashes usually eat their meat raw, not even rejecting uncleansed tripe,[56] and that they are constantly passing from fasts which they observe with superstitious rigour[57] to an excess of gluttony, that they are immoral from their early years,[58] and that drunkenness is an uncensured habit even among the priests, it is surprising that the race has retained its vigour. I am, however, bound to say that the Abyssinian is, normally, hardy and cheery. No doubt the weakly die in infancy or childhood, and the development of those who survive is greatly helped by the fine air in the upland country.
I made inquiry of our interpreter Johannes as to the system of land tenure here, and was interested to learn that the “Lord of the Manor” leased ground to tenants on the métayage system. He himself paid tithe in kind to the Ras. I fancy the landowner takes the lion’s share of the crops; and the peasantry are heavily mulcted by the priests and scribes. In addition, it is the rule that all guests of the Ras, when travelling within his fief, must be supplied with food by every village at which they halt. So the farmers have to thrive on what is left.
We were, officially, guests of the Ras. In consequence we found that gifts of teff, and poultry, and eggs were brought in without stint. All are cheap commodities in Abyssinia. Augustus Wylde calculated that at Bohoro in the Yejju province, when he was there, fowls were selling at a rate which would have given eight hundred and eighty for the pound sterling, and that the same sum would have purchased eight thousand eight hundred eggs.[59] The eggs presented to us were nearly all bad, a fact which might be due to a misapprehension about European taste or to a feeling that waste articles might fairly be got rid of as unrequited tribute. The fowls made good eating, but they are very small birds. I do not think the Habashes, at the end of the reckoning, had much reason to regret our presence.
In the evening we received a visit from the priest, a pleasant, fine-looking old man. He wore the turban of his class. We promised to see him at his church early on the following morning and present an offering.
The dry grass had been fired in places around the village, and the flames showed impressively after nightfall, though their effect was dimmed by the light of the moon, which was nearly full. We had no reason to fear being burned out of our camp, for the stalks had been beaten down all about into a matted mass. But clouds of smoke and showers of blacks from a conflagration close by would have given us more discomfort than we bargained for, and we watched the drift of the fires in the light, varying winds with interest. Luckily, trouble was not for us that night, and we turned in, with all the contentment of the well-fed Briton, and slept in peace.