Both Christians and Mussulmans received an ox on this day in order that they might make biltong for the journey. We bought flour and grain and sheep and fowls, and laid in as large a stock of provisions as we could carry for use in the uninhabited borderland between Delgi and Gallabat.
February 12 was our last day beside Lake Tsana, and the prospect of leaving it filled me with regret. The “Sultan” came into camp again, and in answer to one or two questions gave us the following information: that the rainfall on the margin of the lake in the wet season is not great; the heavy rains descend upon the heights around, and the floods are carried down the rivers and khors in overwhelming torrents, so that all the watercourses are then impassable. This circumstance, of course, has a very important bearing on the possibility of a commercial development of the region.
Before quitting the subject, I will bring to the reader’s notice Dr. Stecker’s thoughtful conclusions as to the present relation of the River Abai to Lake Tsana:—
“I made another extremely interesting discovery in the Gorgora mountains, viz. of a remarkable shell, which by its character reminds one of the oyster.[103] We found both the shells and the living creatures in abundance on the shore. With lemon juice they taste like genuine oysters. But it is remarkable that I had already found this species in the Blue Nile, and that I found it later on the island of Dek, enclosed in unmistakable volcanic rock (tuff). I can only offer this explanation, that, at a time when Lake Tsana already existed, a great eruption took place in the south. According to my view the lake had its origin in tertiary times as a consequence of a great volcanic movement in the north (at the Gorgora range). The Abai, which was previously an unimportant stream, and described the great curve which is indicated on my map by arrows, and now carries it round Dek and Dega, was forced in consequence to the south-western and southern shores, though its original course can still be traced quite distinctly. The second volcanic movement took place, according to my opinion, in the south, and the islands of Dek[104] and Dega in Lake Tsana owe their origin to it, as do a whole series of islands beside the eastern shore of the lake and the masses of rock of volcanic origin which encumber the course of the Blue Nile and lie scattered in the whole valley of that river.”[105]
The moon was full that night, and the lake and the mountains formed a glorious scene, which left in the mind a longing to behold it again. Lake Tsana has that haunting, attractive power which some places possess, and which prompts one to return to them in spite of all that commonsense says about obstacles and discomfort.
On February 13 we made an early start upon our return journey to the Soudan, and reached the top of the plateau at half-past ten. We saw nothing, after all, of Hyli’s men; I did not hear why they failed to join us. As we now retraced our steps over the same ground that we had traversed on the way to the lake, I shall not give any detailed account of our progress. In one day’s journey we covered a distance which had given us an arduous two days’ climb on the upward march, and we came again into the region of the Soudanese heat. The sequence of vegetation according to altitude was strikingly apparent during the descent. Throughout the first half of it we were in the cactus country, then in the bamboo zone, and, finally, among the mimosas and desert scrub. The heat proved trying to man and beast. We Europeans felt fagged and dull; I had three fever patients among our followers in the evening; and the donkeys straggled into camp jaded and spent.
An incident of the journey will show the nature of the road. A little while after we had passed the long and narrow gorge which has already been described, I caught sight of my valise and some other luggage stacked on a bank. Upon asking why it was there, I found that the donkey which had carried the load had slipped from the path and had fallen and rolled about ninety or a hundred feet. The beast seemed none the worse for the adventure, and the boys were bringing up the baggage piecemeal from the ledge which had stopped the donkey. I have no doubt that its burden saved it; a rider might have performed the same service if his remains had kept in place. A mirror and a candle-globe which “accomplished the descent” were not injured.
In spite of the steepness and roughness of the path—the mountains are genuine sierras (saws)—I believe that no great trouble and expense would be needed to make this approach to Western Abyssinia easy and safe, but it would be impossible for camels.
On the following day we reached the banks of the River Gerar, on which there is a thick growth of bamboos. Many of these had fallen across the track. We were not so much impeded by them as we should have been but for our previous experience of this part of the road. We sent men ahead with axes to clear the path as well as they could. In the evening we lost one of our baggage animals for the first time; two donkeys fell on the road exhausted. We left them while we moved on into camp, in the hope that they would recover. One was brought in later, but the other was found to be in such a helpless and pitiable state that nothing remained but to put it out of its misery, and it was shot. Our camp was beside the hot springs which have already been mentioned. We found in the neighbouring huts apparently the same company that we had seen on the upward journey. I was not able to learn anything about the people.
On the following day we left the valley of the Gerar, crossed a high ridge, and then followed the course of the Shemal Warhar. When we reached the place where we had pitched our camp before, we found the trees charred and the ground blackened by fire. There was no shade, and the water in the pools was very low. So we marched about three miles to another camping-ground called Ananta. Here water and shade were plentiful.