Journey from Sagagahdah to Mokoito, general direction W.S.W., time marching four hours.—Meet old friends.—Conversation upon origin of the Dankalli people.—Journey from Mokoito to Ahmahguloff, general direction W.N.W., time marching three hours.—Description of halting-place.
April 20th.—On getting ready to start this morning, I found all had been arranged for the immediate return of Lohitu, evidently, as had been intimated by Ohmed Mahomed, for the purpose of interfering with the peaceable progress of the Kafilah of Mahomed Allee through the country of the Debenee. The latter, fortunately, came up to bid me farewell, as I was superintending the saddling of my mule. He had taken the precaution to bring with him a number of his friends. I took the opportunity of a single moment when I saw that I was not watched, to say to him one word, “Lohitu!” at the same time drawing my hand across my throat, with a look that sufficiently told him the whole conspiracy. His reply was merely the same word, “Lohitu?” as if to ask me if I were quite sure; and taking my nod in the proper sense, he shook hands with me, English fashion, saying, “Tihebe,” (good) and away he hurried with his friends, who, if they were as brave as himself, would, with the others of his Kafilah to aid them, I had no doubt, prove more than a match for even the daring Lohitu and his numerous tribe.
Having mounted my mule, I rode up to Lohitu, and taking out my only remaining spoon, which I knew he coveted, I gave it to him, with two dollars I had ready for the purpose. As I presented them I pointed to Mahomed Allee, mentioning his name, and putting my hand to my breast, said, in the Dankalli language, “Occo,” (friend). Lohitu, with the quick perception characteristic of the whole nation, comprehended me at once, and receiving my present, put his hand to his breast in the same manner he had seen me do, and repeated the same word, “Occo,” in a tone of sincerity that at once removed my fears for Mahomed Allee. The pleasure I felt in consequence, at having thus frustrated the infamous design of my Tajourah friends, who stood scowling by, enabled me to return with interest their looks of disdain, as I rode alone for above an hour afterwards, before any of them chose to come up and speak to me. At last Ebin Izaak trotted his mule up to my side, and after riding a little time in silence, produced from beneath his shield, which hung as usual over the left knee from the bow of his saddle, the three bones of a leg of a sheep, united by the ligaments of the joint, and with scarcely any meat upon them. Pushing one extremity of the continuous bones towards me, he said very abruptly, “Yarcul” (eat). I could not help smiling at the scanty appearance of the repast, but immediately assented to the proposal, and catching hold of my end, we began twisting and pulling to separate the bones, till at last when they did go, and I got possession of the thigh bone for my share, both of us nearly lurched over on opposite sides of our mules, and we had each to grip fast hold of the mane, with the hand that was at liberty, to retain our seats in the saddle. What little meat was on the bones was soon stript off with our teeth, during which time Ebin Izaak accounted for his possession of the treat, no sheep having been killed in our Kafilah, by saying that it was the generous gift of some valued friend, belonging to the Kafilah of Mahomed Allee.
Our road lay along a smooth level plain of yellow marl, cracked in every direction by the baking heat of the sun, whilst the mirage before us mocked the dryness of the soil, by the affectation of the appearance of nature’s most refreshing gift, either to animals or to the equally thirsty earth.
The distortion of all objects that could be perceived in the mirage was very remarkable; small stones became huge rocks, and thin tufts of grass assumed the figure of ostriches; and I was taken in most certainly, much to the amusement of Ebin Izaak, who told me as I went after them that they were nothing but grass; yet so distinct was the appearance, and so natural the motion given to their well-defined image by the flickering of the vapour, that I did not hesitate to go in pursuit, feeling convinced that he must be mistaken.
Izaak, after stripping everything eatable off the bones, very carefully deposited them again in the hollow of his shield, observing, at the same time, they would do for a boxeish for some of the camel-drivers. We now proceeded in very friendly conversation, respecting the likelihood of a marriage taking place between my Queen and Salie Selasse, the King of Shoa, which some of the wiser people of Tajourah could alone surmise, as the probable cause of the numerous valuable presents, which had been sent up to that monarch. Whilst I was endeavouring to explain the impossibility of such a thing, and turning in my mind to what reasonable object I could attribute our present intercourse with Shoa, we were suddenly hailed by a voice I knew, and looking in the direction from whence it proceeded, saw before us, in a low jungle, the slave-boy of Ohmed Mahomed, who was evidently on the watch for our approach.
At his request we dismounted, and leaving the mules in his charge, we pushed aside the strong thorny boughs of myrrh and young mimosa-trees, and made our way to the edge of a small stream that crept along, shaded from the sun by the grateful bushes it nourished. Here, in a natural arbour, we found fast asleep our two friends, Ohmed Medina and Garahmee, each with his tobe wrapped closely around the body, and also covering the head, which was supported upon a small wooden pillow. Their spears lay upon the ground close to their right hands, and their shields were suspended amidst the bending boughs of the rude bower, which concealed them from the observation of any passing native. The boy, as I supposed, had been posted to watch for our arrival.
The noise we made awakened Garahmee, who, after the usual lengthened salutations, gave Ebin Izaak an account of their journey to Owssa, from whence it appeared they had travelled during the last night, having arrived where we found them some hours before us. Others of the Kafilah now joining us, Ohmed Medina was roused from his slumbers. Finding Lohitu not accompanying us, I could hear him making some inquiries respecting that chief; and not being satisfied with the information he obtained, as soon as he had arranged his dress, he entered into conversation with me, wanting to know what present I had given to Lohitu, and if I were pleased with him. He then directed my attention to a new shield he had, and which he told me had been given to him by the generous Chief, whose many excellent qualities were now his theme for some time. Among other things, he said, improving upon the idea of Ebin Izaak respecting the Queen and Salie Selasse, that the best thing she could do was to marry Lohitu; and the English, and the Dankalli would then be one people. I smiled at the honour so seriously intended, but I laughed outright, when Ohmed Medina, pointing to the slave-boy, to whom Ebin Izaak as a mark of favour had given the two bones, asked me if my lady Queen smoked like that. Only imagine a thin bushy-headed black, whose entire dress consisted of a narrow strip of dirty cloth thrown across the shoulders, sitting apart, that he might not be importuned to share with others, the luxury he was indulging in. His pipe, the long shank bone of a leg of mutton, having the smaller end broken off with a stone, whilst the broader extremity was bruised into a concavity, that admitted a small portion of tobacco to be lodged in its cellular structure. Through this novel meerschaum was the fragrant weed being inhaled, and to the appearance of this party I was referred in order to understand fully the question, “Does your Queen smoke like that?” said in a manner, too, that intimated such an accomplishment on her part would be a great recommendation to the Dankalli, in case of the wedding. I was obliged to say she did not, and looked as if I thought the country, hardly worth the trouble of learning to smoke out of a sheepshank, on purpose to obtain possession of it. Observing, or suspecting this, Ohmed Medina rather sharply closed the conversation, by remarking, “Ah, I see, she does not want a country of stones like this.”
The Kafilah halted for the day close under the southern bank of the plain, a precipitous cliff of an easily disintegrated volcanic stone, the debris of which, from detached rocks of several tons weight to small angular fragments, were strewed along its base some distance into the plain. A little stream was the chief agent of denudation; in a very serpentine course, it flowed towards the other side, each bank fringed with dwarf shrubs, and its crystal waters set in a bright enamel of a most delicate kind of grass, which, like a bed of green soft moss, extended along its borders. It burst through a narrow and very recently formed channel from the lava-strewn plateau of Mahree above, and in the rear of our camp passed with a rushing impetuosity, which gradually decreased into the gentlest ripple, as it flowed over its pebbly bed near to the spot where, on our first arrival, we found our friends Ohmed Medina and Garahmee.
Here, among the thick bushes, I took up my residence for the day, surrounded by the Hy Soumaulee, whose heavy war-knives I had undertaken to improve in outward appearance, by fixing a bright dress naval button into a hollow piece of brass, usually placed as an ornament upon the end of the scabbard, but which, without the button to cover the otherwise bare extremity, presented an appearance that was not satisfactory to my educated Birmingham ideas of what constituted elegance. When I pointed out the defect, and suggested the improvement, it was surprising to observe the numbers who applied for the decoration. The order of the button, in fact, became quite the rage, and it was not until it had become very general indeed, that I lost the popularity which its first establishment had occasioned. Like knighthood, to have been respected, it ought to have been kept select, and the braves alone should have been thus rewarded; but when, moved by selfish considerations, I bestowed it upon Zaido, whose cowardice was the laugh of the whole Kafilah, I found the moral of my influence gone, and the previously much-prized button became valued only as an article of commerce. But the mean in spirit have no idea of personal distinction, as I confessed to myself when I heard, that Zaido had sold honour’s bright badge, for a small bag of tobacco.