There was no great difficulty with the mules. One gave a lead, and then the rest swam across, the boys swimming beside them. But with the donkeys it was a different matter. The men tried coaxing them, leading them, whacking them. It was all no good. The donkeys settled into the firm, resolute stubbornness of their kind, which is invincible, and it seemed as if the expedition would be left in the condition of a wasp that has been cut through the middle—the active half in one place and the “portage and storage” half in another. Sunset began before progress had been made, and the air was quickly becoming colder. Finally we solved the problem by brute force. Five fixed nooses were tied in a long rope, and five donkeys’ heads were put in the nooses. Then we, on the further side of the stream, hauled on to the rope. It was a “tug of war,” and we moved the donkeys. Then one of us took the rope back in the boat, and the next batch came over by “cable ferry.” There was a chance that the donkeys would struggle and strangle or drown themselves, but all were pulled across without casualties. The last three made the journey just after six o’clock. Of course our men had to be in the water with the beasts to steady them, and keep them in place, and all worked with a will. Some were in the stream, off and on, for three or four hours, and the cold was sharp when the sun sank. Unluckily there was no wood near our camping-ground, so they had no fire to cheer them afterwards, and could not dry their wet clothes. The Habashes, when they cross a ford of this kind, roll all their garments into a bundle, which they carry on their heads while they swim or wade. We were all sorry for the mischance which denied the boys warmth after a wetting, and we served out a nip of green chartreuse to those who had been in the water longest.
On the next day, January 16, we had before us the business of fording the river Gumara, and, to avoid a repetition of the trouble with the donkeys, we determined to strike away from the lakeside, so as to reach the stream where we could go over on foot. Dupuis found that this route would bring him close to the Debra Tabor road, and at once resolved to set off, on the following morning, with a light baggage train, to pay a visit of thanks to Ras Gouksha, who was at that place. Crawley was to accompany him, while I stayed in charge of the camp.
It was a short march from our halting-place beside the Reb to the ford by which we were to cross the Gumara, and we did not start till eleven o’clock. The baggage animals were able to have a feed of grass, and they and the boys alike were warmed by the sun before our journey began. All needed a little rest and comfort after the previous day’s work.
It is a plain country between the Reb and the Gumara, partly covered at that season by tall, dry grass, and partly by swamp-grass standing in ooze. In the wet months the whole tract is a morass.
Many Habashes assembled to see us start. They were tiresome, but quite friendly. I was much struck by the prevalence of eye disease among them; trachoma is very common, and most of the cases which came under my notice were beyond hope of cure. A crowd gathered round me to gaze at my camera, which was an unknown marvel in this land; for Western Abyssinia has seldom been visited by Europeans, and I heard of none who had been in the district since Stecker had passed through it more than twenty years before. Even cigarettes were a novelty. I put one between my lips when I had shut up my camera, and offered another to a young man who was standing close to me. He did not know what it was, and hesitated about taking it. To gratify my curiosity, I pressed it on him, and he held it at arm’s length, and looked at it with wonder and suspicion. But when he saw me light mine and smoke issuing from my mouth, he dropped his cigarette as if it were a live shell with a fuse smouldering in it and ran. Crawley gave a cigarette one day to a Habash, who ate it, paper and all, and said he liked it.
We reached the Gumara at half-past two, and pitched our camp beside the ford; it is an unpleasant place, in the line of a frequented highway. During the afternoon we passed the donkeys in review, and picked out the best for Dupuis’s expedition to Debra Tabor. We also made a selection of stores for the journey, which was expected to last five days in all.
CHAPTER VIII
On the way between our camp and the Gumara River we passed many villages. In one I saw a leper in an advanced stage of the disease. Thereupon I made inquiry, and was told that leprosy is very prevalent throughout Abyssinia. Almost all the maladies that work havoc among the people could be gradually checked by adequate medical control under European administration.
On Saturday, January 17, I said good-bye to my two companions, who started for Debra Tabor at nine in the morning. It was the proper course to see Ras Gouksha, and thank him personally for allowing us to travel through his territory, and we desired to obtain from him a letter of introduction and recommendation to Tecla Haimanot, the King of Godjam, whose dominions lie on the other side of the lake. This potentate is named after the most popular, venerated—and apocryphal—saint in the well-filled Abyssinian calendar. I shall refer to his miraculous exploits and experiences in another chapter. They are unequalled by anything to be found in the Golden Legend, and one can only regret that the late “Thomas Ingoldsby” had never heard of him.