April 5th.—We were on the march this morning by sunrise, our road continuing over broad fields of a thin stratum of black lava, overlaying a light-coloured and very finely-grained sandstone, beneath which was the same cretaceous formation with shells I had observed in several places yesterday. Dykes of a hard rock stood like high fences in a direction from east to west, and on one occasion we passed some distance actually along the interior of one, the centre of softer material having been denuded, leaving two thin walls of the outer and much harder stone.
After a short time, we came to the watering-place of Aleex’ Shaitan, which was a little to the left of our road, consisting of natural reservoirs, or pools of small dimensions, which contained some sweet, but very dirty water. A wada, or small valley, extended a short distance to the right, in which were larger and greener mimosa-trees than any I had met with before. I learnt that this was to have been our halting-place of yesterday, but that it was preoccupied by a Kafilah coming from Owssa to Tajourah, which was now passing us, and with whom an interchange of civilities and salutations took place.
In saluting each other, the Dankalli place the palms of their right hands together, and slowly slide them off again. A particular and very long form of greeting then takes place, a number of questions are asked in succession by one of the parties, and are replied to by a corresponding string of answers. The other party then asks his questions, is answered in the same manner, the right hands are again slided over each other, and the parties separate to encounter other friends. The greatest mistrust characterizes all their dealings with each other, and the hand grasped during the salutation, I was told was a certain signal of treachery, for numbers had been murdered by others standing by, whilst thus held by supposed friends.
The women, when they meet their male friends, put on an affectation of shyness, which, I suppose, passes amongst them for modesty. They take and hold the proffered hand in theirs for some time, carry it to their lips, and then taking each of the fingers, they press them in succession one by one. All this ceremonial I observed performed, even by a mother to her own son, who stood very majestically receiving this homage, as if it were nothing but his due.
The road now began to take the course of the valley, between high and barren hills of a sombre red colour, and of the same igneous origin with the whole of the surrounding country; white bands of chalk with shells lying upon and below layers of this rock, told of two different eras of volcanic energy, between the times of which the limestone stratum had been deposited in the estuary of a river that must here have entered the sea, and which was probably before the separation from the sea, of the salt lake of Assal. The shores of the latter, which, in a direct line, were not two miles distant, we were now approaching by a long circuitous ravine of some miles in length.
It must be kept in mind, that from the sea in the Goobat ul Khhrab to the Bahr Assal, the crow line would not be more than six miles, although from the rough and precipitous character of the fissured lava which intervenes, the journey of our Kafilah across occupied three days, from our halting-place on the gulf at Bulhatoo to Gunguntur, on the opposite side of the lake.
As the valley of Alephanta, which we were now entering, contracted suddenly, the bases of the conical hills on each side approached very near to each other, and around them in a most serpentine course our road now lay. Scarcely a trace of vegetation appeared to enliven this land of desolation; it was most truly “the valley of the shadow of death;” for at very short distances lay the bleaching half-eaten bones of the skeletons of camels and mules that had here found the last difficulty of the journey from Tajourah too much for their powers of endurance, and falling, had been deserted by their owners. The monarch of the place, a magnificent lion, stood on a small rocky ledge, about half way up one of the surrounding hills. He kept his face steadily turned towards the Kafilah, moving round as its long line marched silently past. My carabine was cocked in a moment, for I concluded that he was meditating an attack; but my companions intimated, that if we left him alone he would keep his distance, and not molest us. Once I gave the long-drawn death-halloo of the chase, but all the natives gathered hurriedly around me to prevent my repeating it; and I found that I had only succeeded in frightening them, without having had any other effect upon the lion but the slow lashing with his tail of his yellow sides, a movement that indicated anger rather than fear. He, however, respected our numbers, and we left him still gazing in his original position, until the last of the camels had placed the shoulder of a projecting hill between him and them. It was proposed, in order to shorten the distance, that I and a party of the Kafilah men, with Garahmee and Moosa, should take a short cut over the hills, rather than the much longer, though more pleasant road around their base; and as I wished to impress Garahmee, whose abilities as a plotter I began to think were of the first order, that I could still trust myself with him and his associates, and at the same time be determined to take care of myself, I made no objection to the proposal, but insisted upon walking the last in the line, affecting to wish that I might see the lion again, and get the opportunity of a shot at him. We followed a narrow path, ascending and descending the steep sides of numerous low conical-formed hills of large loose stones that occasionally detached themselves from under the feet, and went dashing with increasing velocity to a little secondary ridge of the debris, accumulating at the bottom. All around me were these hills of stones, treeless, shrubless, herbless; a greater impression of desolation never occurred to my mind, greater even than that produced by the widely-spreading open deserts of Arabia, or the long and dark valleys between the wave mountains of the seas to the south of the Cape, which, under a gloomy sky, struck me, I recollect, when I was amidst them, as more nearly allied to the character of human despair than anything I could have imagined in the physical world. This is the idea that dreary scenes are apt to suggest, and to which, perhaps, they owe that impress of horror with which we always contemplate them.
Two hours were occupied in passing through this valley “where the devil lies stoned.” It was likened, and very justly I should suppose, to one so called near Mecca, by a “hadji,” or pilgrim, who was returning to his tribe with us. We now saw in the distance the spot on the southern border of the lake, where the salt is broken and packed up for conveyance to Abyssinia; and on the broad extensive field of this purely white and glistening crystallized surface, a group of natives, busily engaged in collecting it with their camels and asses, reminding me of a scene not unlike one in the panorama of the Arctic voyages, representing the Esquimaux with their sledges and dogs upon the surface of the snow.
We soon descended the very gradual descent from the Alephanta Pass, through which we had just come, and commenced walking across one portion of the salt crust of the lake, which now extended in its full proportions before us. Its appearance was very novel, and I examined it with considerable interest, as it is a very remarkable feature of the country of Adal, and a most important one to the inhabitants, being the chief source of wealth and a great inducement to useful occupation to the different tribes who surround it for the distance of several days’ journey.