On February 4 we started to complete the circuit of the lake and reach Delgi by way of the Zegi peninsula. Our road lay across flat land, bordered by marshes and full of swamps and quagmires. Sometimes the marshes stretch a long way into the land, and long detours had to be made to avoid them. I saw yams for the first time in Abyssinia growing just above the swampy tracts in this region. We had to cross three rivers with rocky beds, which were made rougher and more slippery by loose stones. To add to our difficulties, our guide twice led us out of the right path, and once to a ford which was impassable for the donkeys. In this way we lost nearly three hours. At lunch time we sent the baggage-train on ahead of us. The latter part of the journey was over a beaten track, and gave us no trouble. We overtook the baggage animals and their escort just as they entered the undulating ground which forms the approach to the peninsula of Zegi. We pitched our camp near the shore of a little bay of which this promontory was the further boundary.
While we were on the road I received a scribbled note from Crawley, who told me that one of his soldiers was ill, had lain down and refused to move. I rode back at his request, and found the invalid under a tree. He said, “Leave me alone. I want to die.” It was evident at a glance that he was suffering from ague. The only remedy which we had at hand was chartreuse. I gave him a big “nip” of the cordial, and it had an excellent effect upon him. He was able to ride to the end of the journey, and was none the worse for the effort. I venture to commend this incident to the consideration of strict teetotalers.
The village near which we were encamped is that which is marked as Furje on Stecker’s map. The district affords a curious example of feudal tenure in Abyssinia. We had quitted Tecla Haimanot’s dominions, and the land on which our camp stood was under the control of a certain chief called Fituari[97] Ali, a feudatory of Ras Mangousha. He dwelt close to the town of Zegi, but had no jurisdiction within its boundary, though his lordship was valid in a region extending beyond the town to the Abai.
The chieftain had gone to attend the marriage of Ras Mangousha’s daughter, and had left his son in authority. So we sent a messenger with an escort to carry the news of our arrival to this young Habash with due formality. He brought back an uncivil reply to the effect that the Fituari’s son was absent, and if we wanted anything we had better go and find him. This was sent by his majordomo. While we were waiting for tea to be served, Johannes reported that the young Habash was approaching, and we saw him at a little distance attended by a band of followers, some of whom carried guns. Our interpreter asked what he should say to this truculent young man, and we bade him explain that we only asked leave to pass through the land, and should require nothing unless it were to purchase a little grain for our animals. We always sought to avoid trouble with the natives, and therefore impressed upon Johannes that he should show we wished to be friendly, and say we hoped the Fituari’s son would come and have a drink with us.
Johannes departed with his message, and presently we heard a great hubbub—many Habashes talking at once at the top of their high-pitched voices. We wondered what gave rise to so much excitement. Presently Johannes emerged from the crowd and approached us slowly. The young man’s answer was that he would speak with us when he had seen the King’s letter. Now, this permit and all our credentials had been dispatched on February 1 from Bahardar Georgis to Ras Mangousha that we might obtain his leave to travel through his territories beyond the Abai, and we did not expect our messenger to return until late on the following day.
It was an uncomfortable situation. The Ras’s reply might be unfavourable. In that case we should be confronted by the necessity of retracing our steps over the whole of the toilsome journey by the lake side. We all longed to kick the tiresome coxcomb who was in our way, and went to dinner in a glum mood.
We were obliged to spend the following day (Feb. 5) in inaction awaiting the return of our messenger with Ras Mangousha’s answer. I busied myself with the camera, having every reason to believe that no photographs of this tract of country had ever been taken.
During the morning we received a visit from the head man of Zegi. We thought it a favourable sign that he gave us a very pleasant and courteous welcome. This young man, Hyli by name, was about nineteen years of age. I learned afterwards that he was studying the ancient Geez language under the tuition of the priests of Zegi, and presume that he intended to “go into the Church.” These candidates for orders are not permitted to smoke or drink strong liquor while they are in statu pupillari. A similar restriction would scarcely be popular in our own ancient universities.
Hyli, we found, had a large consignment of coffee to send to the market at Gallabat. It is his business to collect the dues payable on this produce before it leaves the village, and the revenue so obtained is handed to Ras Mangousha. Hyli had now come to request that his caravan might join ours during the journey through the “rain-country”—that borderland between Abyssinia and the Soudan, which, as I have said, is infested by bandits. We had every reason to win friends where we could, and every wish to please the young Habash, so we consented willingly. He told us that the coffee was already at Delgi, and that he had been informed of the date of our arrival at that village, at Korata and at Woreb, and had been looking forward to our coming for a month past. In the evening he sent us a present of flour and fowls.
After this visit, I walked to the township of Zegi. It is surrounded by a thick hedge of incense-bush, and this forms the boundary between the Fituari’s jurisdiction and Hyli’s. Zegi very closely resembles Korata. It consists of groups of tokhuls scattered among small, square enclosures where the coffee bushes grow apparently untended. These plantations, with the cottages and churches among them, cover the whole promontory. I should estimate the population, when I saw the place, at about three thousand souls.