Our tent was pitched at the head of Ingerohha, on the north of the plain of Tabulaqué. This river rises among the rocks at the bottom of a little eminence, in a small stream, which, from its source, runs very swiftly, and the water is warm. The peasants told us, that, in winter, in time of the rains, it became hot, and smoked. It was in taste, however, good; nor did we perceive any kind of mineral in it. Tabulaqué, Anderassa, and Mentesegla belong to the Shum of Addergey, and the viceroy of Samen, Ayto Tesfos. The large town of Hauza is about eight miles south-and-by-east of this.

On the 28th, at forty minutes past six o’clock in the morning, we continued our journey; and, at half past seven, saw the small village Motecha on the top of the mountain, half a mile south from us. At eight, we crossed the river Aira; and, at half past eight, the river Tabul, the boundary of the district of Tabulaqué thick covered with wood, and especially a sort of cane, or bamboo, solid within, called there Shemale, which is used in making shafts for javelins, or light darts thrown from the hand, either on foot or on horseback, at hunting or in war.

We alighted on the side of Anderassa, rather a small stream, and which had now ceased running, but which gives the name to the district through which we were passing. Its water is muddy and ill-tasted, and falls into the Tacazzè, as do all the rivers we had yet passed. Dagashaha bears N. N. E. from this station. A great dew fell this night; the first we had yet observed.

The 29th, at six o’clock in the morning, we continued our journey from Anderassa, through thick woods of small trees, quite overgrown, and covered with wild oats, reeds, and long grass, so that it was very difficult to find a path through them. We were not without considerable apprehension, from our nearness to the Shangalla, who were but two days journey distant from us to the W. N. W. and had frequently made excursions to the wild country where we now were. Hauza was upon a mountain south from us; after travelling along the edge of a hill, with the river on our left hand, we crossed it: it is called the Bowiha, and is the largest we had lately seen.

At nine o’clock we encamped upon the small river Angari, that gives its name to a district which begins at the Bowiha where Anderassa ends. The river Angari is much smaller than the Bowiha: it rises to the westward in a plain near Mentesegla; after running half a mile, it falls down a steep precipice into a valley, then turns to the N. E. and, after a course of two miles and a half farther, joins the Bowiha a little above the ford.

The small village Angari lies about two miles S. S. W. on the top of a hill. Hauza (which seems a large town formed by a collection of many villages) is six miles south, pleasantly situated among a variety of mountains, all of different and extraordinary shapes; some are straight like columns, and some sharp in the point, and broad in the base, like pyramids and obelisks, and some like cones. All these, for the most part inaccessible, unless with pain and danger to those that know the paths, are places of refuge and safety in time of war, and are agreeably separated from each other by small plains producing grain. Some of these, however, have at the top water and small flats that can be sown, sufficient to maintain a number of men, independent of what is doing below them. Hauza signifies delight, or pleasure, and, probably, such a situation of the country has given the name to it. It is chiefly inhabited by Mahometan merchants, is the entre-pot between Masuah and Gondar, and there are here people of very considerable substance.

The 30th, at seven in the morning, we left Angari, keeping along the side of the river. We then ascended a high hill covered with grass and trees, through a very difficult and steep road; which ending, we came to a small and agreeable plain, with pleasant hills on each side; this is called Mentesegla. At half past seven we were in the middle of three villages of the same name, two to the right and one on the left, about half a mile distance. At half past nine we passed a small river called Daracoy, which serves as the boundary between Addergey and this small district Mentesegla. At a quarter past ten, we incamped at Addergey, near a small rivulet called Mai-Lumi, the river of limes, or lemons, in a plain scarce a mile square, surrounded on each side with very thick wood in form of an amphitheatre. Above this wood, are bare, rugged, and barren mountains. Midway in the cliff is a miserable village, that seems rather to hang than to stand there, scarce a yard of level ground being before it to hinder its inhabitants from falling down the precipice. The wood is full of lemons and wild citrons, from which it acquires its name. Before the tent, to the westward, was a very deep valley, which terminated this little plain in a tremendous precipice.

The river Mai-Lumi, rising above the village, falls into the wood, and there it divides itself in two; one branch surrounds the north of the plain, the other the south, and falls down a rock on each side of the valley, where they unite, and, after having run about a quarter of a mile further, are precipitated into a cataract of 150 feet high, and run in a direction south-west into the Tacazzé. The river Mai-Lumi was, at this time, but small, although it is violent in winter; beyond this valley are five hills, and on the top of each is a village. The Shum resides in the one that is in the middle. He bade us a seeming hearty welcome, but had malice in his heart against us, and only waited to know for certainty if it was a proper time to gratify his avarice. A report was spread about with great confidence, that Ras Michael had been defeated by Fasil; that Gondar had rebelled, and Woggora was all in arms; so that it was certain loss of life to attempt the passage of Lamalmon.

For our part, we conceived this story to be without foundation, and that, on the contrary, the news were true which we had heard at Siré and Adowa, viz. That Michael was victorious, and Fasil beaten; and we were, therefore, resolved to abide by this, as well knowing, that, if the contrary had happened, every place between the Tacazzè and Gondar was as fatal to us as any thing we were to meet with on Lamalmon could be; the change of place made no difference; the dispositions of the people towards Michael and his friends we knew to be the same throughout the kingdom, and that our only safety remained on certain and good news coming from the army, or in the finishing our journey with expedition, before any thing bad happened, or was certainly known.

The hyænas this night devoured one of the best of our mules. They are here in great plenty, and so are lions; the roaring and grumbling of the latter, in the part of the wood nearest our tent, greatly disturbed our beasts, and prevented them from eating their provender. I lengthened the strings of my tent, and placed the beasts between them. The white ropes, and the tremulous motion made by the impression of the wind, frightened the lions from coming near us. I had procured from Janni two small brass bells, such as the mules carry. I had tied these to the storm-strings of the tent, where their noise, no doubt, greatly contributed to our beasts safety from these ravenous, yet cautious animals, so that we never saw them; but the noise they made, and, perhaps, their smell, so terrified the mules, that, in the morning, they were drenched in sweat as if they had been a long journey.