“Of course,” responded the descendant of the chief justice, “there can be no disputing that fact.”
“A tail, too, is a tail, or I am much mistaken,” continued the logician, pursuing his thesis,—and this axiom was also unhesitatingly admitted as beyond all controversy. “Well, then,” resumed Kásim, whose intellects had been sharpened by a pilgrimage to the shrine at Medina; “no Káfilah can possess two heads; and so long as Ali Mohammad, who is in fact the tail, continues these underhand attempts to usurp the authority vested in the brother of the Sultán of Tajúra, our acknowledged head, matters can never go on smoothly.”
The old man was quietly reminded that the raw tobacco, which had given rise to so much heart-burning, bickering, and dispute, was the sole property of the British party, and that, with every deference to Izhák’s supreme authority, some control might with propriety be conceded to the owners over their own wares; but that as to any interference in the quarrel for the Ras el Káfilah-ship, the thing was clearly impossible—the business having already been fully discussed and arranged with due Danákil patience, by the Sultán, in some twenty tedious conferences with the camel-owners and chiefs of Tajúra. Izhák, who had been listening to this conversation with a dark scowl upon his brow, now entered as if by accident, twirling his scanty locks, and beaming with smiles; proof of his restoration to good humour being immediately afforded in the extension of his right hand, not to perform the usual ceremony of reconciliation, but in view to the palm being filled with a sufficiency of Dr Ruddiman’s Irish blackguard, to admit of indulgence in his favourite recreation.
Hopes were now reasonably entertained of an amicable adjustment, the real cause of dispute having meanwhile been traced to a jealousy respecting the reward which it was conjectured the leader of the caravan would receive at the hands of His Majesty of Shoa. Mohammad Ali had already been privately satisfied upon this point; and Izhák, in order to strengthen his own claim, falsely asserted himself to have received by the Kázi’s son a letter from Sáhela Selássie, appointing the Sultán of Tajúra to the charge of all his European friends who might desire to visit Southern Abyssinia. But the congress still sat as usual. The dispute arranged to-night was renewed at morning’s dawn, as though it had never formed the subject of deliberation; and at a period when the near approach of rain in the higher regions, and the consequent flooding of the Háwash, rendered every hour one of the utmost importance, not the slightest prospect of departure could be discovered, beyond the oft-repeated assurance, as often followed by disappointment—“Bád bokra Inshállah,” “If it please God, the day after to-morrow.”
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Seven.
Persecutions of the Gathered Clans—Parting Interview with the Avaricious Chieftains.
Throughout this period of irksome detention, the thermometer stood daily at 112 degrees, and the temperature of the small tent, already sufficiently oppressive, was rendered doubly unbearable by the unceasing obtrusions of the wild, dirty, unmannerly rabble who filled the ravine. Imperiously demanding, not suing for snuff, beads, and tobacco, with paper whereon to write charms and spells for defence against evil spirits, swarms forced in their greasy persons from the first dawn of day to the mounting of the guard at night. Treating the pale-faced proprietors with the most marked insult and contumely, they spat upon the beds, excluded both air and light, and tainted the already close atmosphere with every abominable smell. Not one of the greasy crowd could be persuaded that the “cloth house,” as the tent was denominated, had not been each day re-erected solely for his individual use and accommodation. Many attempted with their creeses to curtail the much coveted blue calico with which it was lined, and one lank ruffian, who was detected leisurely searching for a peg whereon to hang the skin and entrails of a newly killed he-goat, wrought himself into a positive fury on being civilly apprised that he must look for shambles elsewhere.
Neither on the part of those composing the caravan was much privacy allowed during the sultry day, when seclusion was so highly desirable. Here, as throughout the march, offensive camel-drivers obtruded themselves without any regard either to time or season; occupying the chairs, composing themselves to sleep in groups upon the beds or on the table; and, whilst they picked their ears and teeth with the pens, or employed the knives in the pleasing operation of paring their filthy talons, spitting without remorse wheresoever they listed. Hating and despising a Frank with all the zeal of the bigot, they yet insisted upon shaking hands, on each intrusion, with the most scrupulous attention to Danákil etiquette, and with unhesitating alacrity devoured the biscuits and swallowed the coffee of the “Christian dogs.”