The Shrew of Mahhfood.
Bidding adieu to the hospitable host, we continued our journey along the eastern side of the Turmáber range, through a country considerably improved in point of beauty. There was a warmth of appearance about the numerous hamlets, quite in unison with the increased temperature of this lower tract. Gayer flowers bloomed by the way-side; more brilliant birds fluttered among the thick corinda hedges, through which peeped the eglantine, the honeysuckle, and the blackberry; and the entire prospect, although exceedingly broken, was covered with the most luxuriant grass, in every spot where the hand of the cultivator had not been busy. The slope of each hill and abrupt eminence was wooded with junipers and other fantastic evergreens; fields of yellow safflower glowed in golden tints; and teff, growing in the depths of the valleys, resembled greatly the waving rice-fields of Asia.
Dame Twotit, one of the king’s choristers, who accompanied the army to Garra Gorphoo, and was now making a professional tour of the provinces, joined us en route, carrying a small wicker parasol; and as she ambled along upon her mule, with the butter pouring in streams over her shoulders, through the influence of the solar rays, the good lady was pleased to chant extemporaneous couplets in honour of the war about to be waged against the beasts of the forest. “The Gyptzis will slay the elephant, whereof all the warriors of Amhára are afraid”—whilst it formed the burden of her song, conveyed an opinion diametrically opposed to that entertained by the public; and the followers, inspired by the words of a woman, took up the sentiment, and made the valleys re-echo to their martial chorus, which attracted to the roadside the inhabitants of every hamlet in the vicinity.
Mahhfood, a village hemmed in by high kolquál hedges, formed the termination of the march. Its natural fortifications having uniformly proved insurmountable, this district has never been conquered either by the Galla or Mohammadans. The residence of the governor, who has been honoured with the hand of Wo?zoro Birkenich, daughter of Queen Besábesh by her former marriage, stands on the apex of the loftiest of the many isolated hills; and in accordance with the precaution invariably taken to prevent surprise on these disturbed frontiers, it is surrounded by a formidable fence. Our camp was pitched at the foot; and the thermometer having stood in the morning at 32 degrees on the summit of Dokáket, the difference in temperature was considerably felt during the afternoon, when the mercury mounted to 90° under the flimsy palls which formed our only screen.
Having been specially recommended to Ayto Gádeloo, whose acquaintance I had formed during the late foray, we paid him a visit of ceremony in the cool of the evening, and were received and entertained according to the perfection of Abyssinian etiquette. The whole of the dirty domestics and household slaves were mustered on the occasion, to witness the presentation of gifts brought for the “Emabiet,” (i.e. “The mother of the house”—a title of honour employed in speaking of the queen, the princesses royal, the mistress of a family, and the holy Virgin, who is usually styled “Our Lady.”) who, like the rest of the princesses royal, displayed unequivocal signs of being sole and undisputed mistress of the establishment. Fat, fair, and forty, she was seated in a gloomy recess, upon an “alga,” and partially screened from view by the intervention of a lusty handmaiden. The good man, who occupied a corner of the throne, presented in his owlish features the very personification of a well-trained, hen-pecked husband, for years accustomed to the iron rule of the shrew—and so complete was her monopoly, that he could be said to boast of little beyond the empty title of governor of Mahhfood.
The lady put a few preliminary questions touching the number of wives we each possessed, and appeared highly to approve of the matrimonial code that limited the number to one. But throughout the dingy mansion there was a miserable assumption of regal dignity which considerably retarded conversation, by imparting to the whole ceremony an air of unbending stiffness. The host, who was either unable or unwilling to answer any interrogatories respecting his own country, subjected us to a tiresome catechism; and like the Arab Bedouin, who formed his estimate of the poverty of Europe by the fact of its producing neither dates nor camels, Ayto Gádeloo conceived a passing indifferent idea of Great Britain, from the discovery that it boasted of no mules.
“Have you máshela, and dáboo, and túllah in your country?” (Anglice, “maize, bread, and beer”) he inquired, whilst his fair partner feasted her eyes upon the “pleasing things” presented, in none of which it was evident the lord of the creation was destined to participate—“Oh, you have all these; well, and have you oxen and sheep, and horses and mules?”—“How, no mules?” he shouted in derision, while the slaves tittered and hid their black faces, and their mistress laughed outright—“Why, what a miserable country yours must be!”
Shortly after daybreak we resumed our journey through very thriving crops, descending to the valley of the Robi, where the eye was greeted by a perfect scene of Eastern cultivation. Juwarree, fifteen feet high, teff, chilies, onions, oil-plant, and cotton, in many parts artificially irrigated, flourished with the utmost luxuriance on a rich-black soil, under a climate resembling that of the more favoured spots in Western India. The scenery of this richly-wooded and well-watered valley was not a little enhanced by the beauty of the surrounding mountains, of which the numerous peaks were tufted with trees, and crowned by populous hamlets, whilst the redundance of vegetation, and the growth and quality of the cotton, with a soil adapted for the production of sugar, coffee, and rice, proclaimed the locality to possess the very highest natural advantages as an emigrating settlement.
In the broad shallow channel of the Robi, upwards of two hundred yards across, which pours into the Háwash between a belt of verdant acacias two sparkling streams of the clearest water, are found an inexhaustible supply of round pebbles of every size, which being assorted, are used by the Amhára fusiliers in lieu of the usual iron bullets. They are even employed as slugs and shot, and form a large item in the tribute paid by this district, wherein alone they are obtained. Crossing the river, the road entered a thick jungle; and we were warned to be on our guard, as it had long been infested by banditti called Gowezza, composed principally of Christian outcasts, who absconded either from fear of their creditors, or of church censure. During the great famine in the year of Saint Luke, their numbers were augmented by from five to six hundred Christian, Mohammadan, and Galla vagabonds, who formed themselves into a lawless band, and renouncing all forms of religion, took up their permanent abode in the greenwood, where, favoured by the nature of the ground, they could plunder and kidnap with impunity.
To the notes of an Abyssinian war chorus, which still proclaimed our hostile designs on the lordly elephant, the plain was crossed without any demonstrations on the part of the outlaws; and leaving the high peaks of Chureecha and Sangóta on the right, with Mungut and Salla?sh on the left, the road ascended the Gozi mountain by a narrow pass, leading under a peak on which stands a house belonging to Wulásma Mohammad. Abomésa, forming the termination of the range towards the Ada?el frontier, limits his power in this direction, his rights as Abogáz extending westward to Bulga. The district of Gozi is entirely peopled by Mohammadans styled Arablet, whose progenitors are said by tradition to have been left there prior to the reign of Nagási, first king of Shoa. Hoossain, Wahabit, and Abdool Kurreem, generals probably detached from the victorious army of Graan, are represented to have come from Mecca, and to have taken possession of the country—the legend assigning to the first of these warriors as his capital the populous village of Medina, which is conspicuous on a cone among the mountains shortly after entering the valley of the Robi.
Having descended the Gozi range, the road led across an extensive flat, styled “the wilderness of Giddem,” which forms the neutral ground betwixt the Amhára and the Ada?el. But less than four years have elapsed since the great chief of the Gibdósa, at the head of his whole clan, made a sudden inroad, and swept off all the cattle in this district. The Christians pursuing the invaders, slew great numbers in an engagement fought near Rása, and recovered a portion of the spoil; but on their march back, they were in turn overtaken by Anbássa Ali, who destroyed upwards of one thousand.
The valley of Giddem is watered by four fine rivers, which we crossed in succession—the Sower, “mystery,” the Ashmák, “man who deals in sorcery,” the Gásha Bakindee, “shield on my arm,” and the Jow-wahá, “stupid water”—the whole of which, uniting after their escape from the mountains, join the Háwash not far from Mount Azulo. The Gásha Bakindee, the banks of which are precipitous and thickly wooded, is represented to have been the scene of numberless murders on the part of the Wollo Galla, who are here in the constant habit of way-laying travellers through the wilderness. To the eastward of the valley, therefore, the hand of the cultivator has been stayed, and the forest, standing in large gloomy patches, choked with reeds and wild canes, is tenanted by troops of guinea-fowl, by the boar, the lion, and the elephant; but to the westward, on either side of the road, the cultivation is magnificent—the soil, the climate, and the abundant supply of water, with the shelter afforded by the surrounding hills, proving especially favourable to the labours of the agriculturist. Traces of the huge tenants of the shades so worthy of their bulk, were however visible among the adjacent crops, and the dread entertained of their visits was well evinced by numerous elevated platforms, constructed upon the highest trees that bordered the rich plantations of cotton and red pepper.
On the sedge-grown banks of the Sower, beneath the spreading branches of a venerable tamarind, we found Ayto Abaiyo, with a numerous retinue, reposing during the noontide heat, on his way to assume the district of Mungust, to the south-southwest, the late governor having been summarily removed on charges of oppression. In the principal town, Mosábiet, is held one of the chief markets in the kingdom, the high road to Manchettee, the Wollo, and the Yedjow Galla passing through it. The numerous mounted retinue of the haughty functionary had conjured up misgivings in the mind of our guide, who, since leaving Mahhfood, had never ceased allusions to the “Gowezza;” nor was it without much persuasion and remonstrance that he was finally induced to cross the river with us, and to hail from a respectful distance the suspicious band of his own countrymen.
Leaving the valley of Giddem, seven miles in length, the route led over a very broken and stony rise into a third vale, also richly cultivated, whence commenced the ascent of the Kokfári range. We halted for the night at the village of Zumbo, pleasantly situated on a pretty green terrace on the mountain side between Manya and Dai Mariam, and I despatched the King’s messenger in advance to apprise Ayto Tsánna, the governor, of our arrival within his jurisdiction. Supplies poured in from all directions; but although now far beyond the reach of the much-dreaded freebooters, it was not destined that our hours should be passed in peace. Attracted by the smell of honey, a legion of huge black ants swarmed into the tent; and invading every bed, caused one slumberer after the other to start in madness to his feet. In vain we obtained a light, and massacred thousands upon thousands—a fresh army streamed upon the track of the annihilated troops; and so unremitting were their persecutions, that we ultimately found it necessary to strike the camp, and remove to a remote stubble field, where, although fairly beaten from the field, pursuit was fortunately baffled, and their proximity speedily forgotten.