The next morning, about ten o’clock, taking Hagi Saleh and Yasine with me, and dressed in my Moorish dress, I went to Ayto Aylo, and found him with several great plates of bread, melted butter, and honey, before him, of one of which he and I ate; the rest were given to the Moors, and other people present. There was with him a priest of Koscam, and we all set out for that palace as soon as we had ate breakfast. The rest of the company were on mules. I had mounted my own favourite horse. Aylo, before his fright at Sennaar, was one of the first horsemen in Abyssinia; he was short, of a good figure, and knew the advantage of such make for a horseman; he had therefore a curiosity to see a tall man ride; but he was an absolute stranger to the great advantage of Moorish furniture, bridles, spurs, and stirrups, in the management of a violent, strong, high-mettled horse. It was with the utmost satisfaction, when we arrived in the plain called Aylo Meydan, that I shewed him the different paces of the horse. He cried out with fear when he saw him stand upright upon his legs, and jump forward, or aside, with all four feet off the ground.
We passed the brook of St Raphael, a suburb of Gondar, where is the house of the Abuna; and upon coming in sight of the palace of Koscam, we all uncovered our heads, and rode slowly. As Aylo was all-powerful with the Iteghé, indeed her first counsellor and friend, our admittance was easy and immediate. We alighted, and were shewn into a low room in the palace. Ayto Aylo went immediately to the queen to inquire about Welled Hawaryat, and his audience lasted two long hours. He returned to us with these news, that Welled Hawaryat was much better, by a medicine a saint from Waldubba had given him, which consisted in some characters written with common ink upon a tin plate, which characters were washed off by a medicinal liquor, and then given him to drink. It was agreed, however, that the complaint was the small-pox, and the good it had done him was, he had ate heartily of brind, or raw beef after it, tho’ he had not ate before since his arrival, but called perpetually for drink. Aylo said he was to remain at Koscam till towards evening, and desired me to meet him at his own house when it turned dark, and to bring Petros with me, if he was returned.
Petros was returned when I arrived, and waited for me at Hagi Saleh’s house. Although he shewed all the signs of my being welcome, yet it was easy to read in his countenance he had not succeeded according to his wish, in his interview with Michael, or that he had met something that had ruffled and frightened him anew. And, indeed, this last was the case, for going to the Ras’s tent, he had seen the stuffed skin of the unfortunate Woosheka, with whom he was well acquainted, swinging upon a tree, and drying in the wind. He was so terrified, and struck with such horror, at the sight, that he was in a kind of hysteric fit, cried, started, laughed hideously, and seemed as if he had in part lost his senses.
I was satisfied by the state I saw him in, though he had left Ibaba three days, that, as the first sight of Woosheka’s stuffed skin must have been immediately before he went to the Ras, he could not have had any distinct or particular conversation with him on my account; and it turned out after, that he had not spoken one word upon the subject from fear, but had gone to the tent of Negadè Ras Mahomet, who carried him to Kefla Yasous; that they, too, seeing the fright he was in, and knowing the cause, had gone without him to the Ras, and told him of my arrival, and of the behaviour of Abba Salama, and my fear thereupon, and that I was then in the house of Hagi Saleh, in the Moorish town. The Ras’s answer was, “Abba Salama is an ass, and they that fear him are worse. Do I command in Gondar only when I stay there? My dog is of more consequence in Gondar than Abba Salama.” And then, after pausing a little, he said, “Let Yagoube stay where he is in the Moors town; Saleh will let no priests trouble him there.” Negadé Ras Mahomet laughed, and said, “We will answer for that;” and Petros set out immediately upon his return, haunted night and day with the ghost of his friend Woosheka, but without having seen Ras Michael.
I thought, when we went at night to Ayto Aylo, and he had told the story distinctly, that Aylo and he were equally afraid, for he had not, or pretended he had not, till then heard that Woosheka had been flayed alive. Aylo, too, was well acquainted with the unfortunate person, and only said, “This is Esther, this is Esther; nobody knew her but I.” Then they went on to inquire particulars, and after, they would stop one another, and desire each other to speak no more; then they cried again, and fell into the same conversation. It was impossible not to laugh at the ridiculous dialogue. “Sirs,” said I, “you have told me all I want; I shall not stir from the Moors town till Ras Michael arrives; if there was any need of advice, you are neither of you capable of giving it; now I would wish you would shew me you are capable of taking mine. You are both extremely agitated, and Peter is very tired; and will besides see the ghost of Woosheka shaking to and fro all night with the wind; neither of you ate supper, as I intend to do; and I think Peter should stay here all night, but you should not lie both of you in the same room, where Woosheka’s black skin, so strongly impressed on your mind, will not fail to keep you talking all night in place of sleeping. Boil about a quart of gruel, I will put a few drops into it; go then to bed, and this unusual operation of Michael will not have power to keep you awake.”
The gruel was made, and a good large doze of laudanum put into it. I took my leave, and returned with Saleh; but before I went to the door Aylo told me he had forgot Welled Hawaryat was very bad, and the Iteghè, Ozoro Altash, his wife, and Ozoro Esther, desired I would come and see him to-morrow. One of his daughters, by Ozoro Altash, had been ill some time before his arrival, and she too was thought in great danger. “Look,” said I, “Ayto Aylo, the small-pox is a disease that will have its course; and, during the long time the patient is under it, if people feed them and treat them according to their own ignorant prejudices, my seeing him, or advising him, is in vain. This morning you said a man had cured him by writing upon a tin plate; and to try if he was well, they crammed him with raw beef. I do not think the letters that he swallowed will do him any harm, neither will they do him any good; but I shall not be surprised if the raw beef kills him, and his daughter Welleta Selassé, too, before I see him to-morrow.”
On the morrow Petros was really taken ill, and feverish, from a cold and fatigue, and fright. Aylo and I went to Koscam, and, for a fresh amusement to him, I shewed him the manner in which the Arabs use their firelocks on horseback; but with this advantage of a double-barrelled gun, which he had never before seen. I shot also several birds from the horse; all which things he would have pronounced impossible if they had been only told him. He arrived at Koscam full of wonder, and ready to believe I was capable of doing every thing I undertook.
We were just entering into the palace-door, when we saw a large procession of monks, with the priests of Koscam at their head, a large cross and a picture carried with them, the last in a very dirty, gilt frame. Aylo turned aside when he saw these; and, going into the chamberlain’s apartment, called Ayto Heikel, afterwards a great friend and companion of mine. He informed us, that three great saints from Waldubba, one of whom had neither ate nor drank for twenty years of his life, had promised to come and cure Welled Hawaryat, by laying a picture of the Virgin Mary and the cross upon him, and therefore they would not wish me to be seen, or meddle in the affair. “I assure you, Ayto Aylo,” said I, “I shall strictly obey you. There is no sort of reason for my meddling in this affair with such associates. If they can cure him by a miracle, I am sure it is the easiest kind of cure of any, and will not do his constitution the least harm afterwards, which is more than I will promise for medicines in general; but, remember what I say to you, it will, indeed, be a miracle, if both the father and the daughter are not dead before to-morrow night.” We seemed all of us satisfied in one point, that it was better he should die, than I come to trouble by interfering.
After the procession was gone, Aylo went to the Iteghè, and, I suppose, told her all that happened since he had seen her last. I was called in, and, as usual, prostrated myself upon the ground. She received that token of respect without offering to excuse or to decline it. Aylo then said, “This is our gracious mistress, who always gives us her assistance and protection. You may safely say before her whatever is in your heart.”
Our first discourse was about Jerusalem, the Holy Sepulchre, Calvary, the City of David, and the Mountain of Olives, with the situations of which she was perfectly well acquainted. She then asked me to tell her truly if I was not a Frank? “Madam,” said I, “if I was a Catholic, which you mean by Frank, there could be no greater folly than my concealing this from you in the beginning, after the assurance Ayto Aylo has just now given; and, in confirmation of the truth I am now telling, (she had a large bible lying on the table before her, upon which I laid my hand), I declare to you, by all those truths contained in this book, that my religion is more different from the Catholic religion than your’s is: that there has been more blood shed between the Catholics and us, on account of the difference of religion, than ever was between you and the Catholics in this country; even at this day, when men are become wiser and cooler in many parts of the world, it would be full as safe for a Jesuit to preach in the market-place of Gondar, as for any priest of my religion to present himself as a teacher in the most civilized of Frank or Catholic countries.”—“How is it then,” says she, “that you don’t believe in miracles?”