Jan. 17.—We all took a "long lie" this Sunday morning, it being a day of rest, and when we did get up we found ourselves encamped near the village, and close to a little Coptic church. The view was extensive, while across the table-land, which was intersected by watercourses that looked like broken ditches, might be seen three pointed rocky hills which rose up out of this bare plain and formed a marked feature in the landscape. On the side of one of these hills nestled the village of Terramnee,[9] which was to be our next halt. After breakfast we agreed to go and see the Coptic church, so we sent to the priests to say we were coming to pay them a visit. They replied in a short time, saying they were ready to receive us, and met us at the gate of the enclosure which surrounds each of these churches; we then walked up a narrow path to the church door. The priest and his two attendants all bowed down and touched the threshold of the church with their heads before entering; it was a round edifice, with the usual "extinguisher" roof. A narrow passage runs round the inside of it between the outer wall and the "holy of holies," the entrance to which was covered by a sort of ragged curtain. The outside wall of the "holy of holies" was covered with rude frescoes—St. George and the Dragon, the Virgin Mary, etc. The Virgin was portrayed with very large eyes like saucers; St. George was a meek-looking creature, sticking his spear into the dragon, but looking in an exactly opposite direction. Rude frescoes, very similar in style, may be seen at the parish church of Chaldon, near Caterham, in Surrey. As we were coming away I saw some long stones hung up by grass ropes on a pole, supported by two short sticks; I asked what they were. They said these were used instead of church bells. They were musical stones, in fact, which, when struck, gave out a very pretty sound; they were chosen so as to make a scale of three notes. We gave the priest a dollar for the good of the church, at which he seemed pleased and astonished.
At Deevaroua I bought a large cured cowskin, to make sandals for our servants when we got into the jungle. This I would recommend travellers to do, as the sharp grass and thorns are too much for even the horny feet of the Abyssinians, and the cowskin proved of great use afterwards.
A RACE FOR A SPEAR.
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About mid-day I started alone with Brou, who was to show me the way to Terramnee, and to get coolies there to carry on our things to Koudoofellassie, when we should be out of this province, which we have had so much difficulty in getting through. I saw a ballaga[10] coming towards me, the mule he was riding kicking and plunging about as viciously as ever I saw any animal do. I said to myself, "I must make the acquaintance of this gentleman;" so I rode up to him and said, "How d'ye do?" and asked him to let me look at his spear. While I was looking at it I edged away, then, giving my mule a good kick, galloped off as hard as I could, spear and all. He was quite taken aback at first, but soon began chasing me. We had a nice little spurt, but, as bad luck would have it, one of these watercourses was in front of me, and the way across it lay to my left, which would bring us almost together. He saw his chance, and whipped up his mule, who had the legs of mine, and caught me; I then pulled up, and he asked for his spear. I delayed a minute or two, and then began laughing. He seemed to understand the joke, and I gave him back his spear; he told Brou, who was following after me, that he really thought I meant to take it away from him. I heard them laughing a little way behind me. Abyssinians are very cheery fellows, always ready for a joke, provided it does not touch their pockets.
When we reached Terramnee I sent for the chicker, or head-man of the village, and they said they would go and fetch him. There was an assembly of natives in the village, all jabbering at once. I asked Brou what it was all about, and he said it was a dispute between a man and his wife; one party takes the wife's part, and another the husband's; judges are appointed, and they "jaw" away as hard as they can. Several natives had come in from neighbouring villages about this. At length, when it was over, they had the civility to attend to me: the old story—the chicker could not be found; he was in the fields; they had sent for him, etc. I asked, "Where's his house?" They showed it me, and I went up to it. The old gentleman was at the bottom of the hill which I had gone up, and in a friend's house. I told him I wanted men to carry our things to Koudoofellassie, and he said he would do his best, but he was not chicker over all the village, and would send round to the others. H. and K., with luggage and servants, came up, and then we had a nice row; the chickers vowed they would have our things carried, but the natives would scarcely obey the chickers. I called my old friend, whom I had first seen, and told him that if we did not go on that day I should take him a prisoner to the chief at Koudoofellassie, in whose province the village of Terramnee was. Bit by bit our luggage was picked up and carried on; only the heaviest part of it remained.
The day wore on, and we got more and more impatient. At last the chicker said, "The people will not obey us; you must go round the village and beat them up with your servants." The natives were hiding away in any available corner. H. and I went into one house where we had been told there was a man; the house was quite dark inside, having no windows or openings of any sort. We struck a lucifer—I do not suppose they had ever seen one before. H. descried a man in a corner and pulled him out, but he turned out to be an aged priest, exempt from doing coolie work. The old fellow was much disturbed, but we apologised and said we were very sorry, and he retired to his corner quietly but grumpily. Such visits as these to the houses of the natives reminded me very much of what is stated of the English soldiers hunting for rebels in 1798. We managed to get a good number of the natives unearthed. Directly one was caught he was sent off under care of one of our servants to where our after baggage was lying; a package was given him, and he was started for Koudoofellassie immediately. The only thing that now remained was H.'s large tin case. Tuckloo, one of the chickers, said there was not a young man left in the village. I said, "It must be carried, or I tie you to my mule and take you into Koudoofellassie to the chief." He considered a moment, and then another man and himself slung it on a pole and carried it off. H., Fisk, and myself now started "by moonlight alone" for Koudoofellassie. The road lay across a plain almost all the way, so we galloped our mules along at a great pace: the old fellow, Belata Keda Kedan, sent with us to guide us safely through his province, shouting at us and telling us to take care of the holes as we rode. We raced into camp about ten P.M., yelling and shouting, being guided by the light of our fires.
We found the camp pitched and dinner ready; K. had gone in front and done all this. Borum Braswouldeselassie, the chief of this province, was waiting by the camp fire for us; a pleasant-looking, middle-aged man, who had seen good service with the king. He said anything we wanted we were to ask him for, and he would come the first thing in the morning and see us again.