CHAP. III.
Journey from Arkeeko, over the mountain Taranta, to Dixan.
According to Achmet’s desire, we left Arkeeko the 15th, taking our road southward, along the plain, which is not here above a mile broad, and covered with short grass nothing different from ours, only that the blade is broader. After an hour’s journey I pitched my tent at Laberhey, near a pit of rain-water. The mountains of Abyssinia have a singular aspect from this, as they appear in three ridges. The first is of no considerable height, but full of gullies and broken ground, thinly covered with shrubs; the second, higher and steeper, still more rugged and bare; the third is a row of sharp, uneven-edged mountains, which would be counted high in any country in Europe. Far above the top of all, towers that stupendous mass, the mountain of Taranta, I suppose one of the highest in the world, the point of which is buried in the clouds, and very rarely seen but in the clearest weather; at other times abandoned to perpetual mist and darkness, the seat of lightning, thunder, and of storm.
Taranta is the highest of a long, steep ridge of mountains, the boundary between the opposite seasons. On its east side, or towards the Red Sea, the rainy season is from October to April; and, on the western, or Abyssinian side, cloudy, rainy, and cold weather prevails from May to October.
In the evening, a messenger from the Naybe found us at our tent at Laberhey, and carried away our guide Saloomé. It was not till the next day that he appeared again, and with him Achmet, the Naybe’s nephew. Achmet made us deliver to him the thirteen pieces of Surat cloth, which was promised Saloomè for his hire, and this, apparently, with that person’s good-will. He then changed four of the men whom the Naybe had furnished us for hire to carry our baggage, and put four others in their place; this, not without some murmuring on their part; but he peremptorily, and in seeming anger, dispatched them back to Arkeeko.
Achmet now came into the tent, called for coffee, and, while drinking it, said, “You are sufficiently persuaded that I am your friend; if you are not, it is too late now to convince you. It is necessary, however, to explain the reasons of what you see. You are not to go to Dobarwa, though it is the best road, the safest being preferable to the easiest. Saloomé knows the road by Dixan as well as the other. You will be apt to curse me when you are toiling and sweating ascending Taranta, the highest mountain in Abyssinia, and on this account worthy your notice. You are then to consider if the fatigue of body you then suffer in that passage is not overpaid by the absolute safety you will find yourselves in. Dobarwa belongs to the Naybe, and I cannot answer for the orders he may have given to his own servants; but Dixan is mine, although the people are much worse than those of Dobarwa. I have written to my officers there; they will behave the better to you for this; and, as you are strong and robust, the best I can do for you is to send you by a rugged road, and a safe one.”
Achmet again gave his orders to Saloomé, and we, all rising, said the fedtah, or prayer of peace; which being over, his servant gave him a narrow web of muslin, which, with his own hands, he wrapped round my head in the manner the better sort of Mahometans wear it at Dixan. He then parted, saying, “He that is your enemy is mine also; you shall hear of me by Mahomet Gibberti.”
This finished a series of trouble and vexation, not to say danger, superior to any thing I ever before had experienced, and of which the bare recital (though perhaps too minute a one) will give but an imperfect idea. These wretches possess talents for tormenting and alarming, far beyond the power of belief; and, by laying a true sketch of them before a traveller, an author does him the most real service. In this country the more truly we draw the portrait of man, the more we seem to fall into caricature.
On the 16th, in the evening, we left Laberhey; and, after continuing about an hour along the plain, our grass ended, the ground becoming dry, firm, and gravelly, and we then entered into a wood of acacia-trees of considerable size. We now began to ascend gradually, having Gedem, the high mountain which forms the bay of Arkeeko, on our left, and these same mountains, which bound the plain of Arkeeko to the west, on our right. We encamped this night on a rising-ground called Shillokeeb, where there is no water, though the mountains were everywhere cut through with gullies and water courses, made by the violent rains that fall here in winter.
The 17th, we continued along the same plain, still covered thick with acacia-trees. They were then in blossom, had a round yellow flower, but we saw no gum upon the trees. Our direction had hitherto been south. We turned westerly through an opening in the mountains, which here stand so close together as to leave no valley or plain space between them but what is made by the torrents, in the rainy season, forcing their way with great violence to the sea.