Along the route from Addis Abeba to Goré in the west we were much pestered for presents by the Abyssinian military governors. We had been warned about this and were supplied with some automatic pistols. They invariably turned these down and tried to get our rifles, but as invariably accepted the pistols. These gentry have to be reckoned with, as it is within their power to hold up the traveller by simply declaring the road to be dangerous.
At Goré we came under the rule of the famous chief Ras Tasama. He reigned over the whole of the western part of Abyssinia, tolerating no interference from the Emperor, but paying to him a considerable tribute. This tribute was mainly composed of slaves, gold dust and ivory. The dust was gathered annually from the river beds, after the rains, and by the subject races. We were informed that Goré’s quota amounted to 4,000 oz. Ivory was obtained from the negro tribes living in the lowlands below the Abyssinian plateau. One chief with whom we came in contact was required to provide 300 tusks annually, and apparently could do so easily. It will give an idea of the immense numbers of elephant in the country when I mention that this chief had under him quite a modest little tribe, occupying a country which could be traversed in four days of easy marching.
Slaves were raided from tribes which could not or would not provide ivory. We gathered that these raids were extremely brutal affairs, for which the Abyssinian habits of eating raw meat and drinking rawer alcohol seemed peculiarly to fit them, and that just before our arrival at Goré a raid had resulted in the capture of 10,000 men, women and children. This figure is probably an exaggeration, but it was evident from the accounts of witnesses whom we questioned that the numbers must have been very considerable. They said that the mules, with children lashed on them like faggots, required half the day to pass through the town. The only sign of slaving that we ourselves saw was when we met a body of mounted Abyssinians guarding some wild-looking natives from some distant land. Even if their patient phlegm and air of despair had not drawn our attention to them, the fact that they were completely nude, very black, and wore ornaments such as necklaces made up of countless little round discs of ostrich eggshell, otherwise unseen in Abyssinia, would have done so. We were spared the sight of children.
From information gathered, it now became necessary to obtain permission from Ras Tasama to proceed off the beaten track for the purpose of hunting elephant. So far we had followed the well beaten Addis-Gambela-Khartoum track. We stated our wishes at the first interview with the Ras. He was an imposing-looking old man, short of stature, but with the expression of power, authority and dignity so often found in outstanding Africans. Accompanied by our one-eared interpreter, who had lost the other as a punishment for having sided with the Italians in the war, we were received in the hall of his house, a two-storeyed building of oval shape and a fine specimen of Abyssinian architecture. The usual compliments passed between us and the customary present was duly presented by us. It took the form, on this occasion, of a case of liqueur brandy and a little banker’s bag containing fifty golden sovereigns. As is usual in Africa, the gifts were received without demonstration. We then proceeded to state our business, through our interpreter. We were elephant hunters and wished to have the Ras’s permission to hunt and his advice on where to go. Drinks were served. Our choice was old tedg (honey-mead), the national drink. It was clear and sparkling, very good and rather like champagne. The Ras told us it was nine years old. He himself preferred araki, which is almost pure alcohol flavoured with aniseed. He then remarked that he knew of a country where there were many elephant. This remark we thought distinctly promising, but he made no further reference to the subject of so much importance to us. The visit ended.
On our return to camp we asked our interpreter what we should do now. He said we would get what we wanted, but that we should give the Ras another present. We looked about and finally decided to give him one of our sporting rifles. Next day, after arranging to call on him, we duly presented this beautiful weapon together with a lot of cartridges. More hope was doled out to us, without anything definite happening. And so on it went for three weeks. By that time the Ras had become possessed of eight mules, fifteen camels (he asked for these), several firearms and sundry cases of liquor, besides the presents first mentioned. We were then at the end of our resources and in desperation. This the Ras probably knew as well as we did, for at long last the desired permission was given. But only verbally and without witnesses. Once he had given his word, however, the thing was thoroughly well done. A guide was provided to take us to the hunting grounds. This man not only guided us, but as long as we remained in country owing allegiance to the Ras we were provided with everything the country afforded.
After descending the steep edge of the Abyssinian Plateau we arrived at the rolling plains, several thousands of feet lower and very much hotter than Goré. Mosquitoes were to be reckoned with once more. The natives were now very black, naked, Nilotic and pagan, but paid tribute to Ras Tasama in ivory.
The guide furnished us by Ras Tasama took us to the chief of these people. He was a great swell and wore an Abyssinian robe. While at his village he fêted us and our Abyssinians, and in the night came secretly to ask if we wished to buy ivory. We replied guardedly that much depended on the price asked. He then sent for a tusk and we were overjoyed to see that the ivory of the country was large and soft. We asked if that was all he had. He said he had more. Could we see it? Yes, and he led us to a stockade where he had a considerable amount of tusks hidden in a hole and covered with mats. One was very large—about 150 lb., I would say. We then asked him what he wanted for his ivory. “Guineea,” he said. It took us some time before it dawned on us. He wanted guineas, as English or Egyptian sovereigns are called. We were astonished, and wondered how he was acquainted with them. It appeared that at Gambela there was a Greek trader who apparently bought ivory and it was there that our friend had dealt in sovereigns. But of their true value he was ignorant, evidently confusing them with some smaller coin as he asked for an impossible number for a tusk. We knew that this chief was in high favour with Ras Tasama and that he paid tribute of 300 tusks annually. This fact, combined with the sight before our eyes, seemed to denote enormous numbers of elephant somewhere, and yet we had seen no tracks so far. We asked where all this ivory came from. The chief smiled in a superior way, telling us to wait and he would show us so many elephant that we would be afraid to look upon them, let alone hunt them.
He was right about their numbers, for a few days after leaving his village we came upon the trail of a roaming herd. The well-beaten part of this trail was literally several hundreds of yards wide. I am afraid to estimate how many animals must have been in that herd.
Although it was several days old I wanted to follow it. I took it to be a migration of sorts. But the natives said no, there was no need to. There were plenty more. And, sure enough, they were right. We arrived at a small village on the banks of the Gelo.
Looking up our map we found that the Gelo River from Lake Tata down-stream was marked as unknown. Accordingly, we made enquiries among the natives about the country down-stream, and were told that there were no natives for many days, that the whole country was under water at this season and that no one would go.