In the distance might be seen the village of Asmarra; the houses flat-roofed and built into the side of the low hill on which the village stands. About ten or twelve of the natives came out to meet us; they saluted us respectfully, and we touched our hats. They had come out not only to meet us but also to stop our baggage-bullocks from coming any farther than the top of the hills, as there was cattle disease among the herds of the Shoho Arabs, and an order had been issued all through Abyssinia that no cattle were to travel, or be allowed to go to or from infected districts: this is worthy the notice of our sanitary commissioners at home. Kirkham had trotted on, to make arrangements at his house for us. We left the village of Asmarra, and on our left the ground fell; as we rode on we passed several pools. In the distance flocks of fat-tailed sheep might be seen cropping the short grass, they were of the breed spoken of before, and celebrated throughout Abyssinia. One fat sheep costs a Maria Theresa dollar;[6] but two small ones can be bought for the same money.

We saw Kirkham's little house, with a roof like an extinguisher, in front of us; it was perched on a high cliff that overlooked the plain, which was dotted about with water-pools. Kirkham had told us they were famous places for ducks, and sometimes snipe.

We soon arrived at the house; it was surrounded by the usual hedge to be seen round all Abyssinian houses; this hedge is not growing, but made of thorn-branches and stakes. The few houses which composed the village of Beatmohar were close by. Kirkham at once produced some honey-wine, called "tej" in Abyssinia; it was excellent, and proved very refreshing after our ride. "Tej" is made in the following way: to one part of honey are added seven parts of water, and well mixed; then some leaves of a plant called "geshoo" are put into the mixture, to make it ferment; it is put outside in the shade and left for a day or two. A piece of cotton cloth is strained over the mouth of the large earthenware jar, or "gumbo," and through this the "tej" is poured; the servant tapping the cloth with his fingers to make the liquid run freely. If one wants to make it stronger, the first brew is used instead of the water; adding honey and geshoo leaves in the same way. In the time of King Theodore that monarch had tej five years old, which made any one drunk in a very short time; but those were the "good old times" which we read of.

We ate some lunch, and I took out my gun and went for a stroll; I shot a large blue crane, and saw some ducks. I went out again with H. in the evening to look out for ducks; a flock of teal just as it was getting dark came whistling over my head, but I was not quick enough for them. On my way home I shot an owl, which I presented to Fisk for stuffing. He informed me it was identically the same as the barn owl at home. I was rather disgusted, as I thought an Abyssinian owl must be different from the home species; but he insisted that he had shot lots of them in Norfolk, and said the skin of it was not worth the carriage home. Over this I got rather "chaffed," so I resolved not to shoot any more Abyssinian owls. I believe it is considered very unlucky to shoot an owl!

Jan. 14.—This night we were very comfortable, sleeping in a sort of divan that Kirkham had put up, round the inner room of his house. It was a great relief to know before turning into it that the sleeper would not be the unwilling victim of a leaky roof.

We had settled, H. and I, and Fisk, to go at dawn of day to try and get some duck in a pool just at the foot of the high rock on which the house stood, so next morning off we started. It was bitterly cold and a white frost on the ground. We crept down to the pool and let fly all six barrels into the middle of the flock. Sad to relate, only three fell, which were not picked up; one of Kirkham's Galla boys was sent down later in the day and discovered two.

We then proceeded up the pools; I flushed a snipe and knocked him down, he was rather a lean specimen of his kind. On our way home I saw those large cranes again coming towards me, so I squatted down as close to the ground as I could and waited; the flock kept coming on, making a great noise and screeching, but they saw me and wheeled away. One old gentleman, rather in advance of the others, wheeled rather close to me; I let fly my 16-bore No. 1 shot: it did not seem to affect him in the least, when after going a little way, all of a sudden he fell like a stone. I ran as hard as I could and found him quite dead, with his backbone cut right through by the shot; how he could possibly have kept flying in this state I do not know. His shank-bones will make excellent pipe stems.

The rest of this day we were engaged in again shifting our provisions, etc., into skin bags; as boxes are very bad things to carry either by coolies, mules, or donkeys. It is the custom in Abyssinia to have all one's baggage, as far as possible, packed in these bags, and then the coolies do not mind carrying them so much. A box is so hard it hurts a man's shoulder when he carries it, and as for mules and donkeys it means sore backs at once; besides, the leather thongs that bind the box on to the mule are always slipping. We paid a Maria Theresa for two of these bags, and found it rather difficult to get them. Kirkham had gone to Asmarra to make arrangements for coolies, and when he came back, he said everything was completed, and that we should start to-morrow at sunrise. Vain hope, as the reader will see; for, instead of starting at sunrise, we started at sunset. The people who dwell in the gorgeous East have no idea of time, and always think that Europeans are in a hurry, and that to-morrow will do as well as to-day.

We had sent a message to Belata Keda Kedan, the chief of this province: he lives at a town called Tzazega, about half a day's journey from Beatmohar.

Jan. 15.—In the morning no coolies appeared: one of the "chickers," or tax collectors, or head-men of the village, was very insolent; he brought three coolies, and asked an exorbitant price. I said I would not give it; he then walked away laughing, followed by the coolies, saying, "Well, you won't get them at all now." I thought to myself, "My friend, you shall pay for this." I then politely asked him to walk into our enclosure, shut the door, and made a prisoner of him; put a guard over him, and told him he should wait.