“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has been in sight, as I have lain on my back and gazed into the spotless blue sky; but hardly has the skin been half withdrawn, than specks have appeared in the heavens, rapidly increasing.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.