On February 16 we reached the bank of the Gundar Warhar. From midday till three o’clock the thermometer showed a temperature of 98° F. We had now entered the region in which robber bands are active. On the 17th we passed two parties of traders and heard from them our first news of the world outside Abyssinia. This was that Slatin Pasha had arrived at Gallabat on a tour of inspection. We thought of Gallabat—by contrast—as a centre of civilization. Our halting-place was a pleasant, shady spot beside the river-bed, in which water was abundant. In the afternoon Crawley shot a water-buck. I secured a much smaller prize in the form of another civet-cat. We heard that a large crocodile had been seen in a pool about two hundred yards from camp, but saw nothing of the beast. At night we were much plagued by mosquitoes and the beetles which swarm on one and do not bite, but are malodorous in death—a most perplexing pest.
On the 18th the temperature rose to 101° F. in the shade. We made a short march, but one of our donkeys succumbed and had to be left for the vultures. We found that the grass about our former camping-ground had been trodden down and a part of it burned. The water, too, was much lower in the pools, the dry season being now far advanced, though it was still abundant to meet all the requirements likely to arise in that country before the rains. At this time of the year the trees cast their leaves, so that there is much less shade along the track. On the 19th we reached the “warsha,” which is the first from Gallabat on the road to Abyssinia and the last on the return journey. The ground was in a filthy state, and it was evident that many people had encamped at the place since we left it. Water was plentiful; it was drawn from a deep pool. To our horror, just as we had settled to rest in our chairs, we saw some of our boys and camp-followers washing their persons and their clothes in the water which we were to drink! One of them was a leprous trader. We raised some first-class trouble about this, and posted a sentry by the pool. But all we could do was to boil and filter the water thoroughly—and think of the other people who had bathed in it since we last tasted it. On Friday, February 20, we arrived at Gallabat.
I will not dilate on the traveller’s delight in seeing again a batch of envelopes addressed to him in familiar handwriting. It is one of the pleasures which is becoming rare, but a trip into Western Abyssinia still provides an opportunity for it. In the town I met the Doctor of Kassala. He was then making a tour of inspection with the object of discovering cases of leprosy. The Egyptian Government has wisely ordained that lepers shall be compulsorily segregated; there is a hospital for them at Gallabat, which serves as a receiving station. An attempt is being made to form a colony of these stricken people, where they may cultivate the land and live by their labour.
The water which we had drunk at “Warsha No. 1” punished us rather severely for our rashness. And while suffering from this inward infirmity, I saw the camels that were waiting to wreak their eccentricities upon us during the remainder of the journey. It was our intention to follow the upper course of the river Atbara through Sofi to Kassala. This was formerly a frequented route, but the Dervishes had destroyed all the villages that stood beside it, and, as a consequence, the disused track had become impassable. It was then being repaired, but the work was still some way short of completion, and it seemed that we might be compelled, after all, to return as we had come by the road through Gedaref. However, our chief telegraphed to Mr. Flemming, asking him to send a gang of men, if possible, to the spot where the track was in the worst condition, and this he did. So we were able to carry out our plan, and had the satisfaction of being the first travellers who journeyed by the repaired highway from Gallabat to Kassala.
On February 22 we paid off the escort and followers who had gone into Abyssinia with us. Johannes received as presents a revolver and a watch, the others a gift of money. We found that nearly all preferred a settlement by means of drafts on Colonel Harrington at Addis Abbiba. If they carried cash through the “rain country” they would run a great risk of losing both their money and their lives. Before we bade farewell to Johannes, he told us that we had on one occasion, unconsciously, been in no small danger in Abyssinia. At a certain village a rumour was spread that King Menelek had sold the lake to the British. The supposed transfer was by no means to the taste of the Habashes—and we represented the English interest. Disregarding the niceties of French grammar, Johannes remarked that he had beaucoup de peur at the time. In our case ignorance was bliss.
On this day we said good-bye to Zodi. He had decided to return to his own country with Johannes. We all wished that he could have finished the journey with us, but felt that we should not be justified in discharging him finally in a country where he was ignorant of the language. He took his leave of us, bowing to the ground and addressing us in his own tongue. His face bore an expression which it is difficult to describe; he was showing his spotlessly white teeth in a smile, but he was half crying nevertheless. I have always wished that I could have engaged him as my servant. He was an excellent and faithful lad, and I believe that he did us valuable service when we were near Zegi, and the Fituari’s son was inclined to give trouble. Zody, as a native of the lakeside (Korata), was able to influence his neighbours on the opposite shore when a Habash from another district might have been disregarded or set at naught.
My two companions went out with their rifles in the afternoon, and there was no slight commotion in Gallabat when they were heard firing at antelopes in the distance. During our absence, as I have already mentioned, an Abyssinian band had raided two villages and carried off thirty-eight men and boys into slavery. The noise of the discharges made the natives think that the slave-raiders were at their work again. The very serious political consequences which these incursions will certainly cause sooner or later have been alluded to before.
It may interest my readers, if, before saying the last word about Gallabat, I give a brief account of the battle which took place there in March, 1889, between King John of Abyssinia and the Dervishes. Perhaps no incident in modern history so strangely combines the oriental and the mediæval atmospheres, or so oddly illustrates the effect of weapons of precision in warfare of the biblical type. A detailed narrative has been given by Mr. Augustus Wylde.[106]
The Dervishes had invaded Abyssinia in 1887, at a time when the forces of the Negus were scattered. They defeated Tecla Haimanot and devastated the region to the north of Lake Tsana. In 1888 they renewed the invasion, but in the meanwhile the King of Godjam’s army had been reinforced and his troops had been rearmed. The Dervishes suffered a severe defeat. The Negus completed his preparations in the winter of 1888-9, and gave notice to the Khalifa of his intention to march upon Omdurman. The Dervishes massed about seventy thousand men at Gallabat, where they occupied a large zareba which was protected by a dyke and some redoubts. They also had artillery in the fort where the scorpions have now become so formidable. But they were badly supplied with small-arms, whereas King John’s men had a plentiful stock of effective rifles of a French pattern.
The Dervish position was surrounded by the Abyssinian army. The Khalifa’s men were crowded in their enclosure, and, owing to its construction, could not fire from it without exposing themselves. The Abyssinian marksmen did terrible execution, and finally a body of King John’s horse, supported by a hot rifle-fire at short range, burned the thorns of the zareba at several points and filled up the ditch. The position was then “rushed,” and only a few of the Dervishes, aided by the smoke and the confusion, escaped.