At some distance from this point are the royal iron mines, and near them a perpendicular crag, which rears its crumbling form from the very bottom of the vale to the level of the upper stream, marks the suddenness of the descent. The entire lace of the verdant hills that repose above the roaring cataract, were covered with thyme and other aromatic herbs, yielding up their fragrance at every step; and new and lovely flowers, sparkling under the morning dew, carpeted the slope. From the very brink of the dizzy torrent, lofty junipers raised their tall stems, and flung their mossy arms to a vast height, though still appearing but as small twigs; and the white cloud of foam and spray which arose from the gloomy chasm, reflecting the prismatic colours of the rainbow, completed a picture of singular wildness and magnificence.
How different, indeed, is the fate awaiting the waters of one and the same shower discharged over the high ridge of the Abyssinian Alps! A drop, falling on the eastern slope of the shed, wends its short course by the nearest streamlet towards the muddy Háwash; and, if not absorbed by the thirsty plains of the Adaïel, adds its mite to the lagoon of Aussa—to filter, perhaps, through some subterranean channel into the Indian Ocean. But far distant is the pilgrimage that awaits the more ambitious cloud that sinks on the western side. Joining the Beréza, and taking the sudden leap over the dazzling cataract of Debra Berhán, it hurries down the Jumma on its impetuous course to the Bahr el Azreek—rolls through the golden sands of Damot—and, after visiting Meroë and Thebes, and all the stately pyramids, either adds its humble tribute to the blue waves of the Mediterranean, or is sacrificed to the fertility of the land of Egypt:
“Where with annual pomp,
Rich king of floods! o’erflows the swelling Nile.”
Volume Two—Chapter Ten.
The Annual Review.
As the month rolled on, under a cold and pleasant sky, the governors of the adjacent districts flocked with their quotas to Debra Berhán, to be in readiness against the approaching anniversary of “Máskal.” On this festival, which is held in commemoration of the discovery of the Holy Cross by Saint Helena, the rabble militia composing the Amhára forces is marshalled in order of review, and the grassy slope in front of the palace became daily more and more thickly dotted with black booths and mules and neighing steeds. Honours, appointments, and rewards, are now conferred upon the brave and the deserving; and this being also the season of retribution, the forfeited property and the household chattels of delinquent officers add to the fair-like confusion. Herds of cattle, and long files of confiscated slaves, wooden tables, rickety bedsteads, and other paltry prizes of royal seizure, crowded the bustling parade; whilst groups of shivering camels, transferred by writ of execution to an uncongenial clime, took up their cold station on the bare ground, which was in a few days to receive their long scraggy bones.
On the eve of the anxiously expected day of jubilee, the din of the nugáreet, followed by the repeated discharge of heavily-loaded matchlocks, proclaimed the movement of the household troops towards the palace portals, in order to guard the imperial person from any sudden outbreak of the wild host encamped in the environs. Halting in front of the tents of the Embassy, they performed the war-dance in our honour by the light of numerous torches. Whilst the leaders solaced themselves with a cup of our curaçoa, their curvetting chargers, ridden by confidential henchmen, bore gallantly among the dense mass; and the bright metal stars and studs of their appointments gleamed amid the dark ranks of the warriors, as they howled the Amhára death chorus. Bidding us good night, the Master of the Horse declared, amongst the affirmative whoops of his followers, that next to the royal safety, the lives of his much-esteemed foreign friends should be uppermost in his thoughts during the coming vigil.
Most unkingly was the appearance presented by the palace at break of day, for all was disorder and confusion among the court. Dirt and filth reigned paramount in every purlieu—mire to the ankle obstructed every gateway—and the rods of the wearied door-keepers were broken to splinters in their laudable endeavours to check the rush of the eager and greasy mob. The very houses themselves seemed more gloomy, and the time-worn mud plaster of the ancient walls more sombre and dilapidated than usual.