I often visited those valleys with, the vain hope of seeing a phenomenon very rare in Europe. During the summer season caravans repose or march in perfect safety under a serene sky, when suddenly the practised ear of a native hears a strange noise in the distance, rapidly increasing in loudness. He cries out, "The torrent!" and climbs breathlessly up the nearest height. In less than half a minute after, the whole valley disappears under a broad and deep stream, which carries with it trees, pieces of rock, and even wild beasts. Rising in an instant, those torrents vanish in a day, and leave no trace of their passage, save ruins of all sorts, and pools of stagnant water in the indentations of the soil. The general nakedness of the mountains explains these strange phenomena. From the bottom of the funnel in which the traveller stands when he is in one of those valleys, he cannot see the small clouds which let fall their liquid burdens with an abundance unknown out of the tropical climates. There is very little loam, and still less of roots of trees to absorb this sudden rain; so that it rolls from rock to rock, as on a roof, rushes through every little valley, and mingles in one common river, as frightful as it is transitory. One day, as I arrived just too late to behold it in all its grandeur, I found a solitary individual, who, with a stupefied look, regarded the still humid earth. "God save you," said I, "what news have you? Where are your arms? Can a man like you remain without lance or buckler?" "May you live long and well!" he replied. "The torrent has carried away my lance, my buckler, my ass, my camel, and my whole substance, my wife and my children. Woe is me! Woe is me!" I then turned to my guide and asked him: "Does thy brother speak truly?" "Doubtless," answered he, "and if the torrent came at this moment, unless we were warned of its approach by the small noise of which I have spoken, it is not the most swift-footed, but the most lucky, who would be saved." Then turning toward the son of his tribe—"May God console thee, my brother!" We all repeated this pious wish, and continued our route, without being able to give anything to this wretched man, for we had neither victuals nor money; and from the summit of the neighboring hills we could hear him repeating for a long time, "Woe is me! Woe is me!"
For more than two centuries the civilization and native wealth of Ethiopia have been concentrated around Lake Tana. Just on its shores stands Quarata, the largest city of oriental Africa—proud of its sanctuary and its twelve thousand inhabitants. A little further on is Aringo, the Versailles of the dusky kings. Near it is Dabra Tabor, the capital, or rather the camp of the last chiefs, as well as of the actual sovereign; and finally, on a spur of mountain which projects to the south, appears Gondar—the famous Gondar, which I have seen, still powerful, although reduced to eight thousand inhabitants, only a fourth of its former population. Of all the faults of King Theodore, that which the Ethiopians will be least ready to forgive is his having systematically burned the city of Gondar. Of seventeen churches, only two have escaped this cool and useless cruelty of the despot.
The Ethiopians are a people of very mixed origin. Languages, institutions, usages, and prejudices, even the shades of color and the formations of the human body, are placed in strange juxtaposition with one another. Except the Somal, who afford instances of tall stature, the Ethiopians are of medium height, have thick lips, white and well-formed teeth, and are of slender frame. Their hair is curly; but straight hair, though rare, is sometimes seen. The Semites have often the aquiline nose of the Europeans. As to the color of the skin, all degrees, from the copper color of the Neapolitan to the jet black of the negro, are found. This latter color is often allied to European features. There is an unconscious and natural grace in all the movements and actions of the Ethiopians. Our sculptors might study their gestures and drapery with profit.
On the coast, to the north of Zullah, live the Tigre, whose language, traditions, and customs entitle them to be considered among the descendants of Sem, like the Hebrews and Arabs. The same must be said of the Tigray, who inhabit the neighboring plateau, and speak a kindred idiom to that of the Tigre. The Amaras, more lively, more intelligent, and more civilized, live in the interior, and use a language of Semitic origin, yet modified by associations with the sons of Cham. This is the language used by most European travellers, for it is commonly employed by the merchant, by the learned, and in diplomacy. The Giiz, or Ethiopian, closely connected with the Tigre, is the dead language, the Latin of those distant countries. It is used in quotations, in philosophical and religious discussions, and sometimes to conceal the sense of a conversation from the vulgar. From Tujurrah to the environs of Zullah, a common language, entirely different from those which we have mentioned, unites all the fractions of the Afar nation, often called Dankalis, but improperly, for the Dankalas, the Adali, etc., are only tribes of the Afar. The Sahos, who are the most numerous among the inhabitants of Zullah, and extend along all the slopes of the neighboring plain, consider themselves as strangers to the Afar, and speak a distinct but affiliated dialect. Another idiom much more important by the number of the nations who use it, has also the same origin as the Afar tongue. We mean the Ylmorma used by the Oromos, whose name in war is Gallei or Galla, and who, by reason of their conquests, have extended their sway from the Afar country as far as to the still unknown regions of interior Africa. Called Gallas by all the Christians of Ethiopia, the Oromos threaten, by their proximity, the stronghold of Magdala, where the English prisoners have been awaiting for four years the arrival of their avenging countrymen.
A serious calculation of the population of any African nation has never been made. As to the centres of population, a fatigued and disgusted traveller, looking at them from a distance and but for a moment, might state the census of such or such a city to be ten thousand souls. An optimist, on the contrary, might gravely affirm that at least thirty thousand should be admitted as the correct number. It is, in fact, almost impossible to form a proper estimate of the population of Ethiopia. Considering its extent of territory, I should say there are three or four millions in it, though if some other traveller were to maintain that it contains six or eight millions I could not refute his opinion, owing to the fact that I do not know the proportion between the inhabited and the desert portions of the country.
II.
The Jews were formerly numerous in Abyssinia. There are not eighty thousand of them left now, and they are gradually disappearing under the influence of the powerful civilization of the Amara.
The origin of the Ethiopian Jews probably dates from the time of the prophet Jeremias, when commerce was carried on between Alexandria and Aksum. At a later period, similar facilities brought to Ethiopia the first Christian missionaries. This happened in the beginning of the fourth century, when the inhabitants of Gaul, or France, were still plunged in the darkness of paganism. The truth, however, progressed slowly in Abyssinia; for the local Judaism, though notably separated from that of the Hebrews, preserved its political power during five or six hundred years, notwithstanding the wonderful efforts of native missionaries, whose feasts and martyrdoms are still celebrated in the country. Even up to the 14th century there were pagans in it; and there are, very probably, some there still.
After the Mussulman invasion of the fifteenth century, Islamism filtered through Egyptian society. The Christianity of the country became corrupt, and we can liken it to nothing better now than to those lepers who abound in this part of Africa, whose bodies are at first attacked in their extremities, and fall away piecemeal. In the same way, her Christianity perished on the frontiers of Ethiopia. Twenty years before our arrival among the Tigre, they were Christians, or rather they lived in the recollection of their faith; but without baptism or sacrifice, and guided in their prayers by the descendants of their last priests. They became Mussulmans under our eyes, with the exception of their principal chief, who said, with a touching and proud respect for ancient usages, that "a king ought to die in the faith of his fathers." One becomes irritated on reflecting that two or three fervent missionaries could have, at the beginning of this century, rolled back the tide of advancing Mohammedanism, by evangelizing or rather reviving that ancient Christianity whose history goes back as far as St. Athanasius, and which we have seen expire after ages of agony.
If we study Christianity in the centre of Ethiopia, we find a somewhat confused schism, but of all schisms the one least removed from Catholic orthodoxy. The only dogmatic points which we regret in this schism are the one procession of the Holy Ghost, which has been condemned among us only at a late period, and the belief in only one nature in Jesus Christ, which is publicly professed by the African schools. But the term in the Abyssinian vernacular which we translate by nature, has such a vague and obscure signification that, if the word could be destroyed, the schism would no longer exist. It must be remembered that the Ethiopians do not understand the art of defining; and when I restricted this ambiguous term according to our method, they understood the dogma exactly as we, and congratulated themselves on being, without knowing it, attached to the same faith as Rome, that seat of St. Peter which always commands their respect.