At half past nine we again set out, and, a few minutes after, passed the river Abola, which gives its name to the valley into which we had descended, and receives many lesser streams, and is of considerable breadth. I could discover no traces of fish either in it or in any river since we left the Assar, from which circumstance I apprehend, that, in these torrents from the mountains, almost dry in summer, and which run with vast rapidity in winter, the spawn and fish are both destroyed in different seasons by different causes.
After coasting some little time along the side of the valley, we began to ascend a mountain on the right, from which falls almost perpendicularly a small, but very violent stream, one of the principal branches of the Abola, which empties itself into the Nile, together with the other branch, a still more considerable stream, coming from east south-east along the valley between Litchambara and Aformasha. At eleven o’clock our course was south by east, and we passed near a church, dedicated to the Virgin, on our left. The climate seemed here most agreeably mild, the country covered with the most lively verdure, the mountains with beautiful trees and shrubs, loaded with extraordinary fruits and flowers. I found my spirits very much raised with these pleasing scenes, as were those of all my servants, who were, by our conversation, made geographers enough to know we were near approaching to the end of our journey. Both Strates and I, out of the Lamb’s hearing, had shot a variety of curious birds and beasts. All but Woldo seemed to have acquired new strength and vigour. He continued in his air of despondency, and seemed every day to grow more and more weak. At a quarter past eleven we arrived at the top of the mountain, where we, for the first time, came in sight of Sacala, which extends in the plain below from west to the point of south, and there joins with the village of Geesh.
Sacala, full of small low villages, which, however, had escaped the ravages of the late war, is the eastermost branch of the Agows, and famous for the best honey. The small river Kebezza, running from the east, serves as a boundary between Sacala and Aformasha; after joining two other rivers, the Gometti and the Googueri, which we presently came to, after a short course nearly from S. E. to N. W. it falls into the Nile a little above its junction with the Abola.
At three-quarters past eleven we crossed the river Kebezza, and descended into the plain of Sacala; in a few minutes we also passed the Googueri, a more considerable stream than the former; it is about sixty feet broad, and perhaps eighteen inches deep, very clear and rapid, running over a rugged, uneven bottom of black rock. At a quarter past twelve we halted on a small eminence, where the market of Sacala is held every Saturday. Horned cattle, many of the greatest beauty possible, with which all this country abounds; large asses, the most useful of all beasts for riding or carriage; honey, butter, ensete for food, and a manufacture of the leaf of that plant, painted with different colours like Mosaic work, are here exposed to sale in great plenty; the butter and honey, indeed, are chiefly carried to Gondar, or to Buré; but Damot, Maitsha, and Gojam likewise take a considerable quantity of all these commodities.
At a quarter after one o’clock we passed the river Gumetti, the boundary of the plain: we were now ascending a very steep and rugged mountain, the worst pass we had met on our whole journey. We had no other path but a road made by the sheep or the goats, which did not seem to have been frequented by men, for it was broken, full of holes, and in other places obstructed with large stones that seemed to have been there from the creation. It must be added to this, that the whole was covered with thick wood, which often occupied the very edge of the precipices on which we stood, and we were everywhere stopt and entangled by that execrable thorn the kantussa, and several other thorns and brambles nearly as inconvenient. We ascended, however, with great alacrity, as we conceived we were surmounting the last difficulty after the many thousands we had already overcome. Just above this almost impenetrable wood, in a very romantic situation, stands St Michael, in a hollow space like a nitch between two hills of the same height, and from which it is equally distant. This church has been unfrequented for many years; the excuse they make is, that they cannot procure frankincense, without which, it seems, their mass or service cannot be celebrated; but the truth is, they are still Pagans; and the church, having been built in memory of a victory over them above a hundred years ago, is not a favourite object before their eyes, but a memorial of their inferiority and misfortune. This church is called St Michael Sacala, to distinguish it from another more to the southward, called St Michael Geesh.
At three quarters after one we arrived at the top of the mountain, whence we had a distinct view of all the remaining territory of Sacala, the mountain Geesh, and church of St Michael Geesh, about a mile and a half distant from St Michael Sacala, where we then were. We saw, immediately below us, the Nile itself, strangely diminished in size, and now only a brook that had scarcely water to turn a mill. I could not satiate myself with the sight, revolving in my mind all those classical prophecies that had given the Nile up to perpetual obscurity and concealment. The lines of the poet came immediately into my mind, and I enjoyed here, for the first time, the triumph which already, by the protection of Providence, and my own intrepidity, I had gained over all that were powerful, and all that were learned, since the remotest antiquity:—
Arcanum natura caput non prodidit ulli,
Nec licuit populis parvum te, Nile, videre;
Amovitque sinus, et gentes maluit ortus
Mirari, quam nôsse tuos.——
Lucan.
I was awakened out of this delightful reverie by an alarm that we had lost Woldo our guide. Though I long had expected something from his behaviour, I did not think, for his own sake, it could be his intention to leave us. The servants could not agree when they last saw him: Strates and Aylo’s servant were in the wood shooting, and we found by the gun that they were not far from us; I was therefore in hopes that Woldo, though not at all fond of fire-arms, might be in their company; but it was with great dissatisfaction I saw them appear without him. They said, that, about an hour before, they had seen some extraordinary large, rough apes, or monkeys, several of which were walking upright, and all without tails; that they had gone after them thro’ the wood till they could scarce get out again; but they did not remember to have seen Woldo at parting. Various conjectures immediately followed; some thought he had resolved to betray and rob us; some conceived it was an instruction of Fasil’s to him, in order to our being treacherously murdered; some again supposed he was slain by the wild beasts, especially those apes or baboons, whose voracity, size, and fierce appearance were exceedingly magnified, especially by Strates, who had not the least doubt, if Woldo had met them, but that he would be so entirely devoured, that we might seek in vain without discovering even a fragment of him. For my part, I began to think that he had been really ill when he first complained, and that the sickness might have overcome him upon the road; and this, too, was the opinion of Ayto Aylo’s servant, who said, however, with a significant look, that he could not be far off; we therefore sent him, and one of the men that drove the mules, back to seek after him; and they had not gone but a few hundred yards when they found him coming, but so decrepid, and so very ill, that he said he could go no farther than the church, where he was positively resolved to take up his abode that night. I felt his pulse, examined every part about him, and saw, I thought evidently, that nothing ailed him. Without losing my temper, however, I told him firmly, That I perceived he was an impostor; that he should consider that I was a physician, as he knew I cured his master’s first friend, Welleta Yasous: that the feeling of his hand told me as plain as his tongue could have done, that nothing ailed him; that it told me likewise he had in his heart some prank to play, which would turn out very much to his disadvantage. He seemed dismayed after this, said little, and only desired us to halt for a few minutes, and he should be better; for, says he, it requires strength in us all to pass another great hill before we arrive at Geesh.
“Look you, said I, lying is to no purpose; I know where Geesh is as well as you do, and that we have no more mountains or bad places to pass through; therefore, if you choose to stay behind, you may; but to-morrow I shall inform Welleta Yasous at Buré of your behaviour.” I said this with the most determined air possible, and left them, walking as hard as I could down to the ford of the Nile. Woldo remained above with the servants, who were loading their mules; he seemed to be perfectly cured of his lameness, and was in close conversation with Ayto Aylo’s servant for about ten minutes, which I did not choose to interrupt, as I saw that man was already in possession of part of Woldo’s secret. This being over, they all came down to me, as I was sketching a branch of a yellow rose-tree, a number of which hang over the ford.
The whole company passed without disturbing me; and Woldo, seeming to walk as well as ever, ascended a gentle-rising hill, near the top of which is St Michael Geesh. The Nile here is not four yards over, and not above four inches deep where we crossed; it was indeed become a very trifling brook, but ran swiftly over a bottom of small stones, with hard, black rock appearing amidst them: it is at this place very easy to pass, and very limpid, but, a little lower, full of inconsiderable falls; the ground rises gently from the river to the southward, full of small hills and eminences, which you ascend and descend almost imperceptibly. The whole company had halted on the north side of St Michael’s church, and there I reached them without affecting any hurry.