But Mr. Salt absolutely forgets himself; for in vol. iii., p. 12, speaking of "a semicircular ridge of mountains, over which there is but one pass by which it is possible to ascend," he says, "in steepness and ruggedness this hill may be compared to Tarenta, though its height is considerably inferior." And in his "Travels to Abyssinia," page 201, he again says, "on the 10th the party ascended Senafé, which is said to be full as high, though not so difficult to pass, as Tarenta."
The trifling, cavilling remarks made against Bruce's character by Lord Valentia and Mr. Salt, admitting his history of Abyssinia, as they do, and his general descriptions, to be correct, remind one of Shakspeare's description of the sun:
"When envious clouds seem bent to dim his glory,
And check his bright course to the occident."
The plain on the summit of the mountain of Tarenta was in many places sown with wheat, which was just ready to be cut. The grain appeared to be clean and of a good colour, but inferior in size to that of Egypt. It did not, however, grow thick, nor was its stalk above fourteen inches high. The water here was very bad, being only what remained of the rain that had been collected in hollows of the rocks, or in pits artificially prepared for it. Being greatly fatigued, Bruce and his party pitched their tents on the top of the mountain. The night felt dreadfully cold to them, accustomed as they had been to the heat of the low country of Masuah: the dew fell heavily, yet the sky was so clear that the smallest stars were discernible.
The people who live on the mountain of Tarenta are of a dark, sallow complexion. Their heads are wholly uncovered, a goat's skin is thrown over their shoulders, they wear a piece of cotton cloth about their waist, and sandals on their feet. Their hair is cut short, and curled artificially, to look like the wool of a negro. The men usually carry two lances, a shield made of bull's hide, and a very long, broad knife stuck in their girdles. All sorts of cattle are here in great plenty. The cows are generally white, with large dewlaps hanging down to their knees, hair like silk, and wide horns. The sheep are of good size and black: they have large heads, which they carry very erect, and small ears, and are covered with hair instead of wool.
Early on the morning of the 22d, Bruce and his party eagerly descended the mountain. The cedar-trees, which had been so tall and beautiful on the top and on the east side of Tarenta, degenerated on the west into small shrubs and scraggy bushes. Lower down the people were busy with their harvest, and cows and bullocks were seen treading out the corn, the straw being burned or left to rot upon the ground. In the evening they reached the town of Dixan. Salt says, "We passed over the highest part of the irregular hill on which Dixan is built, and which Bruce has very accurately described when he compared it to a sugar-loaf."
Dixan, like most frontier towns, is a rendezvous for the bad people of the two contiguous countries. "The town," says Bruce, "consists of Moors and Christians, and is very well peopled; yet the only trade of either is a very extraordinary one, that of selling children. The Christians bring such as they have stolen in Abyssinia to Dixan, and the Moors, receiving them there, carry them to a sure market to Masuah, whence they are sent to Arabia or India."
Rather a curious instance of this barbarous traffic occurred between two priests, who were slaves in the naybe's house, while Bruce was at Masuah.
These two men had formerly dwelt at Tigré as most intimate friends—the youngest living with a woman by whom he had two sons. One day the old priest came to the young one to say that, as he had no children of his own, he would provide for one of the boys, who was accordingly most gratefully committed to his care. The old wretch, however, took him to Dixan, and, after selling him there as a slave, returned to his friend with a fine account of his son's reception, treatment, and brilliant future prospects. The other child, who was about eight years old, hearing of the wonderful good fortune of his elder brother, entreated to be permitted to pay him a visit. The old man said that he did not altogether disapprove of his design, but at the same time observed that he felt a sort of scruple—a kind of repugnance—in short, that he was unwilling to be responsible for the safety of so very young a boy, unless his mother would accompany him; and as mothers yearn for their children in Abyssinia as elsewhere, the woman most readily consented to attend her son, under the protection of the old priest, who kindly took them to Dixan and—sold them both!