"This," says Bruce, "is, I suppose, one of the hottest countries in the known world. On the 1st day of March, at three o'clock in the afternoon, Fahrenheit's thermometer, in the shade, was 114°, which was at 61 at sunrise, and 82 at sunset. And yet this excessive heat did not make a proportional impression upon our feelings. The evenings, on the contrary, rather seemed cold, and we could hunt at midday; and this I constantly observed in this sultry country, that what was hot by the glass never appeared to carry with it anything proportionate in our sensations."
Some time before Bruce left Gondar he had been threatened with an attack of dysentery. On his arrival at Hor Cacamoot it grew worse, and had assumed many unpromising symptoms, when he was cured by the advice and application of a common Shangalla.
Bruce's faithful friend, Yasine, had made every exertion to secure him a good reception from Fidele, the sheikh of Atbara. The Sheikh of Beyla, by name Mohammed, was a man of high character for courage and probity; and Bruce had often corresponded with him upon the subject of horses for the king while he was at Gondar. He was greatly tormented with a most painful disorder, and, through Yasine, Bruce had several times sent to him soap-pills and lime, with directions how to make lime-water. Bruce therefore despatched a servant with a letter to the Sheikh of Beyla, mentioning his intention of coming to Sennaar by the way of Teawa and Beyla, and desiring him to forward his servant to Sennaar. But while he was making these vigorous exertions to advance, his exhausted body was gradually becoming more and more unable to follow. Trembling under the burning heat of the climate, and feeble from the effects of the most debilitating of disorders, "Yagoube, the white man," would probably have ended his career at his petty government of Ras el Feel, had it not been for the kind attention of Yasine, and the skilful treatment of the woolly-headed physician. But kindness, medicine, and time at last recruited his strength; and, after a delay of two months, he set out on the 17th of March from Hor Cacamoot to proceed to Teawa, the capital of Atbara. His path was through thick brushwood: his companions were eleven naked men, driving before them asses laden with salt.
The second morning they reached Surf el Shekh, which is the boundary of Ras el Feel; and here Bruce took a painful and affectionate leave of his sincere friend Yasine, who showed at parting that love and steady attachment which he had maintained since their first acquaintance. The last tie which connected Bruce's heart with Abyssinia was now severed. He had said farewell to his last friend, and, with a burning desert under his feet, and a still more burning sun over his head, he had now, in danger, sickness, and solitude, to pursue his dreary way.
At half past seven in the evening he came to Engaldi, a large basin or cavity, about thirty feet deep and several hundred yards in length, made for the Arabs who encamp there after the rains. The water was almost exhausted, and the little that remained had an intolerable stench. Thousands of Guinea-fowls, partridges, and other kinds of birds had crowded around it to drink; but it was a melancholy omen to see that they were reduced to absolute skeletons.
At eight they came to Eradeeba, where is neither village nor water, but only a resting-place about half a mile square, which has been cleared from wood, that travellers who pass to and from Atbara might have an esplanade to guard themselves from being attacked unawares by the banditti which resort to these deserts.
At a quarter past eleven Bruce arrived at Quaicha, the bed of a torrent where there was no water: the wood now seemed to be growing thicker, and to be full of wild beasts, especially lions and hyænas. These did not fly from them as those which they had hitherto seen, but came boldly up, especially the hyæna, with apparently a determination to attack them. On lighting a fire, however, they retired for a time, but towards morning they approached in greater numbers than before. A lion carried off one of the asses, and a hyæna attacked one of the men, tore his cloth from his middle, and wounded him in the back. "As we now expected," says Bruce, "to be instantly devoured, the present fear overcame the resolution we had made not to use our firearms unless in the utmost necessity. I fired two guns, and ordered my servants to fire two large ship-blunderbusses, which presently freed us from our troublesome guests. Two hyænas were killed; and a large lion, being mortally wounded, was despatched by our men in the morning. They came no more near us; but we heard numbers of them howling at a distance till daylight, either from hunger or the smarts of the wounds they had received—perhaps from both; for each ship-blunderbuss had fifty small bullets; and the wood towards which they were directed, at the distance of about twenty yards, seemed to be crowded with these animals."
Though this first day's journey from Falatty and Ras el Feel to Quaicha occupied eleven hours, the distance travelled was not more than ten miles; for the beasts were heavily laden, and it was with the utmost difficulty that they could force their way through the thick woods, which scarcely admitted the rays of the sun. From this station, however, they enjoyed a most magnificent sight, the mountains, in almost every direction, being in a flame of fire.
The Arabs feed all their flocks upon the branches of trees. When, therefore, the water is entirely dried up, and they can remain no longer, they set fire to the underwood, and to the dry grass below it. The flame runs under the trees, and scorches the leaves and the new wood, without consuming the body of the tree. After the tropical rains begin, vegetation immediately returns, the springs increase, the rivers run, and the pools are again filled with water. Verdure being now in the greatest luxuriance, the Arabs revisit their former stations. This conflagration is resorted to twice in the year—in October and March.