Chapter VI: Part 6

In appearance, the Eesa are distinguished from other Somal by blackness, ugliness of feature, and premature baldness of the temples; they also shave, or rather scrape off with their daggers, the hair high up the nape of the neck. The locks are dyed dun, frizzled, and greased; the Widads or learned men remove them, and none but paupers leave them in their natural state; the mustachios are clipped close, the straggling whisker is carefully plucked, and the pile--erroneously considered impure--is removed either by vellication, or by passing the limbs through the fire. The eyes of the Bedouins, also, are less prominent than those of the citizens: the brow projects in pent-house fashion, and the organ, exposed to bright light, and accustomed to gaze at distant objects, acquires more concentration and power. I have seen amongst them handsome profiles, and some of the girls have fine figures with piquant if not pretty features.

Flocks and herds form the true wealth of the Eesa. According to them, sheep and goats are of silver, and the cow of gold: they compare camels to the rock, and believe, like most Moslems, the horse to have been created from the wind. Their diet depends upon the season. In hot weather, when forage and milk dry up, the flocks are slaughtered, and supply excellent mutton; during the monsoon men become fat, by drinking all day long the produce of their cattle. In the latter article of diet, the Eesa are delicate and curious: they prefer cow's milk, then the goat's, and lastly the ewe's, which the Arab loves best: the first is drunk fresh, and the two latter clotted, whilst the camel's is slightly soured. The townspeople use camel's milk medicinally: according to the Bedouins, he who lives on this beverage, and eats the meat for forty-four consecutive days, acquires the animal's strength. It has perhaps less "body" than any other milk, and is deliciously sweet shortly after foaling: presently it loses flavour, and nothing can be more nauseous than the produce of an old camel. The Somal have a name for cream--"Laben"--but they make no use of the article, churning it with the rest of the milk. They have no buffaloes, shudder at the Tartar idea of mare's-milk, like the Arabs hold the name Labban [50] a disgrace, and make it a point of honor not to draw supplies from their cattle during the day.

The life led by these wild people is necessarily monotonous. They rest but little--from 11 P.M. till dawn--and never sleep in the bush, for fear of plundering parties, Few begin the day with prayer as Moslems should: for the most part they apply themselves to counting and milking their cattle. The animals, all of which have names [51], come when called to the pail, and supply the family with a morning meal. Then the warriors, grasping their spears, and sometimes the young women armed only with staves, drive their herds to pasture: the matrons and children, spinning or rope-making, tend the flocks, and the kraal is abandoned to the very young, the old, and the sick. The herdsmen wander about, watching the cattle and tasting nothing but the pure element or a pinch of coarse tobacco. Sometimes they play at Shahh, Shantarah, and other games, of which they are passionately fond: with a board formed of lines traced in the sand, and bits of dry wood or camel's earth acting pieces, they spend hour after hour, every looker-on vociferating his opinion, and catching at the men, till apparently the two players are those least interested in the game. Or, to drive off sleep, they sit whistling to their flocks, or they perform upon the Forimo, a reed pipe generally made at Harar, which has a plaintive sound uncommonly pleasing. [52] In the evening, the kraal again resounds with lowing and bleating: the camel's milk is all drunk, the cow's and goat's reserved for butter and ghee, which the women prepare; the numbers are once more counted, and the animals are carefully penned up for the night. This simple life is varied by an occasional birth and marriage, dance and foray, disease and murder. Their maladies are few and simple [53]; death generally comes by the spear, and the Bedouin is naturally long-lived. I have seen Macrobians hale and strong, preserving their powers and faculties in spite of eighty and ninety years.

FOOTNOTES

[1] By this route the Mukattib or courier travels on foot from Zayla to Harar in five days at the most. The Somal reckon their journeys by the Gedi or march, the Arab "Hamleh," which varies from four to five hours. They begin before dawn and halt at about 11 A.M., the time of the morning meal. When a second march is made they load at 3 P.M. and advance till dark; thus fifteen miles would be the average of fast travelling. In places of danger they will cover twenty-six or twenty-seven miles of ground without halting to eat or rest: nothing less, however, than regard for "dear life" can engender such activity. Generally two or three hours' work per diem is considered sufficient; and, where provisions abound, halts are long and frequent.

[2] The Mikahil is a clan of the Habr Awal tribe living near Berberah, and celebrated for their bloodthirsty and butchering propensities. Many of the Midgan or serviles (a term explained in Chap. II.) are domesticated amongst them.

[3] So the Abyssinian chief informed M. Krapf that he loved the French, but could not endure us--simply the effect of manner.

[4] The first is the name of the individual; the second is that of her father.

[5] This delicate operation is called by the Arabs Daasah (whence the "Dosch ceremony" at Cairo). It is used over most parts of the Eastern world as a remedy for sickness and fatigue, and is generally preferred to Takbis or Dugmo, the common style of shampooing, which, say many Easterns, loosens the skin.

[6] The Somal, from habit, enjoy no other variety; they even showed disgust at my Latakia. Tobacco is grown in some places by the Gudabirsi and other tribes; but it is rare and bad. Without this article it would be impossible to progress in East Africa; every man asks for a handful, and many will not return milk for what they expect to receive as a gift. Their importunity reminds the traveller of the Galloway beggars some generations ago:--"They are for the most part great chewers of tobacco, and are so addicted to it, that they will ask for a piece thereof from a stranger as he is riding on his way; and therefore let not a traveller want an ounce or two of roll tobacco in his pocket, and for an inch or two thereof he need not fear the want of a guide by day or night."

[7] Flesh boiled in large slices, sun-dried, broken to pieces and fried in ghee.

[8] The Bahr Assal or Salt Lake, near Tajurrah, annually sends into the interior thousands of little matted parcels containing this necessary. Inland, the Bedouins will rub a piece upon the tongue before eating, or pass about a lump, as the Dutch did with sugar in the last war; at Harar a donkey-load is the price of a slave; and the Abyssinians say of a _millionaire_ "he eateth salt."

[9] The element found upon the maritime plain is salt or brackish. There is nothing concerning which the African traveller should be so particular as water; bitter with nitre, and full of organic matter, it causes all those dysenteric diseases which have made research in this part of the world a Upas tree to the discoverer. Pocket filters are invaluable. The water of wells should be boiled and passed through charcoal; and even then it might be mixed to a good purpose with a few drops of proof spirit. The Somal generally carry their store in large wickerwork pails. I preferred skins, as more portable and less likely to taint the water.

[10] Here, as in Arabia, boxes should be avoided, the Bedouins always believe them to contain treasures. Day after day I have been obliged to display the contents to crowds of savages, who amused themselves by lifting up the case with loud cries of "hoo! hoo!! hoo!!!" (the popular exclamation of astonishment), and by speculating upon the probable amount of dollars contained therein.

[11] The following list of my expenses may perhaps be useful to future travellers. It must be observed that, had the whole outfit been purchased at Aden, a considerable saving would have resulted:--

Cos. Rs.
Passage money from Aden to Zayla............................ 33
Presents at Zayla...........................................100
Price of four mules with saddles and bridles................225
Price of four camels........................................ 88
Provisions (tobacco, rice, dates &c.) for three months......428
Price of 150 Tobes..........................................357
Nine pieces of indigo-dyed cotton........................... 16
Minor expenses (cowhides for camels, mats for tents,
presents to Arabs, a box of beads, three handsome
Abyssinian Tobes bought for chiefs).....................166
Expenses at Berberah, and passage back to Aden.............. 77
----
Total Cos. Rs. 1490 = L149
====

[12] I shall frequently use Somali terms, not to display my scanty knowledge of the dialect, but because they perchance may prove serviceable to my successors.

[13] The Somal always "side-line" their horses and mules with stout stiff leathern thongs provided with loops and wooden buttons; we found them upon the whole safer than lariats or tethers.

[14] Arabs hate "El Sifr" or whistling, which they hold to be the chit- chat of the Jinns. Some say that the musician's mouth is not to be purified for forty days; others that Satan, touching a man's person, causes him to produce the offensive sound. The Hejazis objected to Burckhardt that he could not help talking to devils, and walking about the room like an unquiet spirit. The Somali has no such prejudice. Like the Kafir of the Cape, he passes his day whistling to his flocks and herds; moreover, he makes signals by changing the note, and is skilful in imitating the song of birds.

[15] In this country camels foal either in the Gugi (monsoon), or during the cold season immediately after the autumnal rains.

[16] The shepherd's staff is a straight stick about six feet long, with a crook at one end, and at the other a fork to act as a rake.

[17] These utensils will be described in a future chapter.

[18] The settled Somal have a holy horror of dogs, and, Wahhabi-like, treat man's faithful slave most cruelly. The wild people are more humane; they pay two ewes for a good colley, and demand a two-year-old sheep as "diyat" or blood-money for the animal, if killed.

[19] Vultures and percnopters lie upon the wing waiting for the garbage of the kraals; consequently they are rare near the cow-villages, where animals are not often killed.

[20] They apply this term to all but themselves; an Indian trader who had travelled to Harar, complained to me that he had always been called a Frank by the Bedouins in consequence of his wearing Shalwar or drawers.

[21] Generally it is not dangerous to write before these Bedouins, as they only suspect account-keeping, and none but the educated recognise a sketch. The traveller, however, must be on his guard: in the remotest villages he will meet Somal who have returned to savage life after visiting the Sea-board, Arabia, and possibly India or Egypt.

[22] I have often observed this ceremony performed upon a new turban or other article of attire; possibly it may be intended as a mark of contempt, assumed to blind the evil eye.

[23] Such is the general form of the Somali grave. Sometimes two stumps of wood take the place of the upright stones at the head and foot, and around one grave I counted twenty trophies.

[24] Some braves wear above the right elbow an ivory armlet called Fol or Aj: in the south this denotes the elephant-slayer. Other Eesa clans assert their warriorhood by small disks of white stone, fashioned like rings, and fitted upon the little finger of the left hand. Others bind a bit of red cloth round the brow.

[25] It is sufficient for a Bedouin to look at the general appearance of an animal; he at once recognises the breed. Each clan, however, in this part of Eastern Africa has its own mark.

[26] They found no better word than "fire" to denote my gun.

[27] "Oddai", an old man, corresponds with the Arab Shaykh in etymology. The Somal, however, give the name to men of all ages after marriage.

[28] The "Dihh" is the Arab "Wady",--a fiumara or freshet. "Webbe" (Obbay, Abbai, &c.) is a large river; "Durdur", a running stream.

[29] I saw these Dihhs only in the dry season; at times the torrent must be violent, cutting ten or twelve feet deep into the plain.

[30] The name is derived from Kuranyo, an ant: it means the "place of ants," and is so called from the abundance of a tree which attracts them.

[31] The Arabs call these pillars "Devils," the Somal "Sigo."

[32] The Cape Kafirs have the same prejudice against fish, comparing its flesh, to that of serpents. In some points their squeamishness resembles that of the Somal: he, for instance, who tastes the Rhinoceros Simus is at once dubbed "Om Fogazan" or outcast.

[33] This superstition may have arisen from the peculiarity that the camel's milk, however fresh, if placed upon the fire, breaks like some cows' milk.

[34] "Bori" in Southern Arabia popularly means a water-pipe: here it is used for tobacco.

[35] "Goban" is the low maritime plain lying below the "Bor" or Ghauts, and opposed to Ogu, the table-land above. "Ban" is an elevated grassy prairie, where few trees grow; "Dir," a small jungle, called Haija by the Arabs; and Khain is a forest or thick bush. "Bor," is a mountain, rock, or hill: a stony precipice is called "Jar," and the high clay banks of a ravine "Gebi."

[36] Snakes are rare in the cities, but abound in the wilds of Eastern Africa, and are dangerous to night travellers, though seldom seen by day. To kill a serpent is considered by the Bedouins almost as meritorious as to slay an Infidel. The Somal have many names for the reptile tribe. The Subhanyo, a kind of whipsnake, and a large yellow rock snake called Got, are little feared. The Abesi (in Arabic el Hayyeh,--the Cobra) is so venomous that it kills the camel; the Mas or Hanash, and a long black snake called Jilbis, are considered equally dangerous. Serpents are in Somali-land the subject of many superstitions. One horn of the Cerastes, for instance, contains a deadly poison: the other, pounded and drawn across the eye, makes man a seer and reveals to him the treasures of the earth. There is a flying snake which hoards precious stones, and is attended by a hundred guards: a Somali horseman once, it is said, carried away a jewel; he was pursued by a reptile army, and although he escaped to his tribe, the importunity of the former proprietors was so great that the plunder was eventually restored to them. Centipedes are little feared; their venom leads to inconveniences more ridiculous than dangerous. Scorpions, especially the large yellow variety, are formidable in hot weather: I can speak of the sting from experience. The first symptom is a sensation of nausea, and the pain shoots up after a few minutes to the groin, causing a swelling accompanied by burning and throbbing, which last about twelve hours. The Somal bandage above the wound and wait patiently till the effect subsides.

[37] These are tightened in case of accident, and act as superior ligatures. I should, however, advise every traveller in these regions to provide himself with a pneumatic pump, and not to place his trust in Zaal, garlic, or opium.

[38] The grey rat is called by the Somal "Baradublay:" in Eastern Africa it is a minor plague, after India and Arabia, where, neglecting to sleep in boots, I have sometimes been lamed for a week by their venomous bites.

[39] In this country the jackal attends not upon the lion, but the Waraba. His morning cry is taken as an omen of good or evil according to the note.

[40] Of this bird, a red and long-legged plover, the Somal tell the following legend. Originally her diet was meat, and her society birds of prey: one night, however, her companions having devoured all the provisions whilst she slept, she swore never to fly with friends, never to eat flesh, and never to rest during the hours of darkness. When she sees anything in the dark she repeat her oaths, and, according to the Somal, keeps careful watch all night. There is a larger variety of this bird, which, purblind daring daytime, rises from under the traveller's feet with loud cries. The Somal have superstitions similar to that above noticed about several kinds of birds. When the cry of the "Galu" (so called from his note Gal! Gal! come in! come in!) is heard over a kraal, the people say, "Let us leave this place, the Galu hath spoken!" At night they listen for the Fin, also an ill-omened bird: when a man declares "the Fin did not sleep last night," it is considered advisable to shift ground.

[41] Throughout this country ostriches are exceedingly wild: the Rev. Mr. Erhardt, of the Mombas Mission, informs me that they are equally so farther south. The Somal stalk them during the day with camels, and kill them with poisoned arrows. It is said that about 3 P.M. the birds leave their feeding places, and traverse long distances to roost: the people assert that they are blind at night, and rise up under the pursuer's feet.

[42] Several Acacias afford gums, which the Bedouins eat greedily to strengthen themselves. The town's people declare that the food produces nothing but flatulence.

[43] "Subhan' Allah!" an exclamation of pettishness or displeasure.

[44] The hills not abounding in camels, like the maritime regions, asses become the principal means of transport.

[45] This barbarous practice is generally carried out in cases of small- pox where contagion is feared.

[46] Fear--danger; it is a word which haunts the traveller in Somali-land.

[47] The Somali Tol or Tul corresponds with the Arabic Kabilah, a tribe: under it is the Kola or Jilib (Ar. Fakhizah), a clan. "Gob," is synonymous with the Arabic Kabail, "men of family," opposed to "Gum," the caste-less. In the following pages I shall speak of the Somali _nation_, the Eesa tribe, the Rer Musa _clan_, and the Rer Galan _sept_, though by no means sure that such verbal gradation is generally recognised.

[48] The Eesa, for instance, are divided into--

1. Rer Wardik (the royal clan). 6. Rer Hurroni.
2. Rer Abdullah. 7. Rer Urwena.
3. Rer Musa. 8. Rer Furlabah.
4. Rer Mummasan. 9. Rer Gada.
5. Rer Guleni. 10. Rer Ali Addah.

These are again subdivided: the Rer Musa (numbering half the Eesa), split up, for instance, into--

1. Rer Galan. 4. Rer Dubbah.
2. Rer Harlah. 5. Rer Kul.
3. Rer Gadishah. 6. Rer Gedi.

[49] Traces of this turbulent equality may be found amongst the slavish Kafirs in general meetings of the tribe, on the occasion of harvest home, when the chief who at other times destroys hundreds by a gesture, is abused and treated with contempt by the youngest warrior.

[50] "Milk-seller."

[51] For instance, Anfarr, the "Spotted;" Tarren, "Wheat-flour;" &c. &c.

[52] It is used by the northern people, the Abyssinians, Gallas, Adail, Eesa and Gudabirsi; the southern Somal ignore it.

[53] The most dangerous disease is small-pox, which history traces to Eastern Abyssinia, where it still becomes at times a violent epidemic, sweeping off its thousands. The patient, if a man of note, is placed upon the sand, and fed with rice or millet bread till he recovers or dies. The chicken-pox kills many infants; they are treated by bathing in the fresh blood of a sheep, covered with the skin, and exposed to the sun. Smoke and glare, dirt and flies, cold winds and naked extremities, cause ophthalmia, especially in the hills; this disease rarely blinds any save the citizens, and no remedy is known. Dysentery is cured by rice and sour milk, patients also drink clarified cows' butter; and in bad cases the stomach is cauterized, fire and disease, according to the Somal, never coexisting. Haemorroids, when dry, are reduced by a stick used as a bougie and allowed to remain in loco all night. Sometimes the part affected is cupped with a horn and knife, or a leech performs excision. The diet is camels' or goats' flesh and milk; clarified butter and Bussorab dates--rice and mutton are carefully avoided. For a certain local disease, they use senna or colocynth, anoint the body with sulphur boiled in ghee, and expose it to the sun, or they leave the patient all night in the dew;--abstinence and perspiration generally effect a cure. For the minor form, the afflicted drink the melted fat of a sheep's tail. Consumption is a family complaint, and therefore considered incurable; to use the Somali expression, they address the patient with "Allah, have mercy upon thee!" not with "Allah cure thee!"

There are leeches who have secret simples for curing wounds. Generally the blood is squeezed out, the place is washed with water, the lips are sewn up and a dressing of astringent leaves is applied. They have splints for fractures, and they can reduce dislocations. A medical friend at Aden partially dislocated his knee, which half-a-dozen of the faculty insisted upon treating as a sprain. Of all his tortures none was more severe than that inflicted by my Somali visitors. They would look at him, distinguish the complaint, ask him how long he had been invalided, and hearing the reply--four months--would break into exclamations of wonder. "In our country," they cried, "when a man falls, two pull his body and two his legs, then they tie sticks round it, give him plenty of camel's milk, and he is well in a month;" a speech which made friend S. groan in spirit.

Firing and clarified butter are the farrier's panaceas. Camels are cured by sheep's head broth, asses by chopping one ear, mules by cutting off the tail, and horses by ghee or a drench of melted fat.

CHAP. VI.

FROM THE ZAYLA HILLS TO THE MARAR PRAIRIE.

I have now, dear L., quitted the maritime plain or first zone, to enter the Ghauts, that threshold of the Ethiopian highlands which, beginning at Tajurrah, sweeps in semicircle round the bay of Zayla, and falls about Berberah into the range of mountains which fringes the bold Somali coast. This chain has been inhabited, within History's memory, by three distinct races,--the Gallas, the ancient Moslems of Adel, and by the modern Somal. As usual, however, in the East, it has no general vernacular name. [1]

The aspect of these Ghauts is picturesque. The primitive base consists of micaceous granite, with veins of porphyry and dykes of the purest white quartz: above lie strata of sandstone and lime, here dun, there yellow, or of a dull grey, often curiously contorted and washed clear of vegetable soil by the heavy monsoon. On these heights, which are mostly conoid with rounded tops, joined by ridges and saddlebacks, various kinds of Acacia cast a pallid and sickly green, like the olive tree upon the hills of Provence. They are barren in the cold season, and the Nomads migrate to the plains: when the monsoon covers them with rich pastures, the people revisit their deserted kraals. The Kloofs or ravines are the most remarkable features of this country: in some places the sides rise perpendicularly, like gigantic walls, the breadth varying from one hundred yards to half a mile; in others cliffs and scaurs, sapped at their foundations, encumber the bed, and not unfrequently a broad band of white sand stretches between two fringes of emerald green, delightful to look upon after the bare and ghastly basalt of Southern Arabia. The Jujube grows to a height already betraying signs of African luxuriance: through its foliage flit birds, gaudy-coloured as kingfishers, of vivid red, yellow, and changing-green. I remarked a long-tailed jay called Gobiyan or Fat [2], russet-hued ringdoves, the modest honey-bird, corn quails, canary-coloured finches, sparrows gay as those of Surinam, humming-birds with a plume of metallic lustre, and especially a white-eyed kind of maina, called by the Somal, Shimbir Load or the cow-bird. The Armo-creeper [3], with large fleshy leaves, pale green, red, or crimson, and clusters of bright berries like purple grapes, forms a conspicuous ornament in the valleys. There is a great variety of the Cactus tribe, some growing to the height of thirty and thirty-five feet: of these one was particularly pointed out to me. The vulgar Somal call it Guraato, the more learned Shajarat el Zakkum: it is the mandrake of these regions, and the round excrescences upon the summits of its fleshy arms are supposed to resemble men's heads and faces. On Tuesday the 5th December we arose at 6 A.M., after a night so dewy that our clothes were drenched, and we began to ascend the Wady Darkaynlay, which winds from east to south. After an hour's march appeared a small cairn of rough stones, called Siyaro, or Mazar [4], to which each person, in token of honor, added his quotum. The Abban opined that Auliya or holy men had sat there, but the End of Time more sagaciously conjectured that it was the site of some Galla idol or superstitious rite. Presently we came upon the hills of the White Ant [5], a characteristic feature in this part of Africa. Here the land has the appearance of a Turkish cemetery on a grand scale: there it seems like a city in ruins: in some places the pillars are truncated into a resemblance to bee-hives, in others they cluster together, suggesting the idea of a portico; whilst many of them, veiled by trees, and overrun with gay creepers, look like the remains of sylvan altars. Generally the hills are conical, and vary in height from four to twelve feet: they are counted by hundreds, and the Somal account for the number by declaring that the insects abandon their home when dry, and commence building another. The older erections are worn away, by wind and rain, to a thin tapering spire, and are frequently hollowed and arched beneath by rats and ground squirrels. The substance, fine yellow mud, glued by the secretions of the ant, is hard to break: it is pierced, sieve-like, by a network of tiny shafts. I saw these hills for the first time in the Wady Darkaynlay: in the interior they are larger and longer than near the maritime regions.

We travelled up the Fiumara in a southerly direction till 8 A.M., when the guides led us away from the bed. They anticipated meeting Gudabirsis: pallid with fear, they also trembled with cold and hunger. Anxious consultations were held. One man, Ali--surnamed "Doso," because he did nothing but eat, drink, and stand over the fire--determined to leave us: as, however, he had received a Tobe for pay, we put a veto upon that proceeding. After a march of two hours, over ground so winding that we had not covered more than three miles, our guides halted under a tree, near a deserted kraal, at a place called El Armo, the "Armo-creeper water," or more facetiously Dabadalashay: from Damal it bore S. W. 190°. One of our Bedouins, mounting a mule, rode forward to gather intelligence, and bring back a skin full of water. I asked the End of Time what they expected to hear: he replied with the proverb "News liveth!" The Somali Bedouins have a passion for knowing how the world wags. In some of the more desert regions the whole population of a village will follow the wanderer. No traveller ever passes a kraal without planting spear in the ground, and demanding answers to a lengthened string of queries: rather than miss intelligence he will inquire of a woman. Thus it is that news flies through the country. Among the wild Gudabirsi the Russian war was a topic of interest, and at Harar I heard of a violent storm, which had damaged the shipping in Bombay Harbour, but a few weeks after the event.

The Bedouin returned with an empty skin but a full budget. I will offer you, dear L., a specimen of the "palaver" [6] which is supposed to prove the aphorism that all barbarians are orators. Demosthenes leisurely dismounts, advances, stands for a moment cross-legged--the favourite posture in this region--supporting each hand with a spear planted in the ground: thence he slips to squat, looks around, ejects saliva, shifts his quid to behind his ear, places his weapons before him, takes up a bit of stick, and traces lines which he carefully smooths away--it being ill- omened to mark the earth. The listeners sit gravely in a semicircle upon their heels, with their spears, from whose bright heads flashes a ring of troubled light, planted upright, and look stedfastly on his countenance over the upper edges of their shields with eyes apparently planted, like those of the Blemmyes, in their breasts. When the moment for delivery is come, the head man inquires, "What is the news?" The informant would communicate the important fact that he has been to the well: he proceeds as follows, noting emphasis by raising his voice, at times about six notes, and often violently striking at the ground in front.

"It is good news, if Allah please!"

"Wa Sidda!"--Even so! respond the listeners, intoning or rather groaning the response.

"I mounted mule this morning:"

"Even so!"

"I departed from ye riding."

"Even so!"

"_There_" (with a scream and pointing out the direction with a stick).

"Even so!"

"_There_ I went."

"Even so!"

"I threaded the wood."

"Even so!"

"I traversed the sands."

"Even so!"

"I feared nothing."

"Even so!"

"At last I came upon cattle tracks."

"Hoo! hoo!! hoo!!!" (an ominous pause follows this exclamation of astonishment.)

"They were fresh."

"Even so!"

"So were the earths."

"Even so!"

"I distinguished the feet of women."

"Even so!"

"But there were no camels."

"Even so!"

"At last I saw sticks"--

"Even so!"

"Stones"--

"Even so!"

"Water"--

"Even so!"

"A well!!!"

Then follows the palaver, wherein, as occasionally happens further West, he distinguishes himself who can rivet the attention of the audience for at least an hour without saying anything in particular. The advantage of _their_ circumlocution, however, is that by considering a subject in every possible light and phase as regards its cause and effect, antecedents, actualities, and consequences, they are prepared for any emergency which, without the palaver, might come upon them unawares.

Although the thermometer showed summer heat, the air was cloudy and raw blasts poured down from the mountains. At half past 3 P.M. our camels were lazily loaded, and we followed the course of the Fiumara, which runs to the W. and S. W. After half an hour's progress, we arrived at the gully in which are the wells, and the guides halted because they descried half-a- dozen youths and boys bathing and washing their Tobes. All, cattle as well as men, were sadly thirsty: many of us had been chewing pebbles during the morning, yet, afraid of demands for tobacco, the Bedouins would have pursued the march without water had I not forced them to halt. We found three holes in the sand; one was dry, a second foul, and the third contained a scanty supply of the pure element from twenty to twenty-five feet below the surface. A youth stood in the water and filled a wicker- pail, which he tossed to a companion perched against the side half way up: the latter in his turn hove it to a third, who catching it at the brink, threw the contents, by this time half wasted, into the skin cattle trough. We halted about half an hour to refresh man and beast, and then resumed our way up the Wady, quitting it where a short cut avoids the frequent windings of the bed. This operation saved but little time; the ground was stony, the rough ascents fatigued the camels, and our legs and feet were lacerated by the spear-like thorns. Here, the ground was overgrown with aloes [7], sometimes six feet high with pink and "pale Pomona green" leaves, bending in the line of beauty towards the ground, graceful in form as the capitals of Corinthian columns, and crowned with gay-coloured bells, but barbarously supplied with woody thorns and strong serrated edges. There the Hig, an aloetic plant with a point so hard and sharp that horses cannot cross ground where it grows, stood in bunches like the largest and stiffest of rushes. [8] Senna sprang spontaneously on the banks, and the gigantic Ushr or Asclepias shed its bloom upon the stones and pebbles of the bed. My attendants occupied themselves with gathering the edible pod of an Acacia called Kura [9], whilst I observed the view. Frequent ant-hills gave an appearance of habitation to a desert still covered with the mosques and tombs of old Adel; and the shape of the country had gradually changed, basins and broad slopes now replacing the thickly crowded conoid peaks of the lower regions.

As the sun sank towards the west, Long Guled complained bitterly of the raw breeze from the hills. We passed many villages, distinguished by the barking of dogs and the bleating of flocks, on their way to the field: the unhappy Raghe, however, who had now become our _protege_, would neither venture into a settlement, nor bivouac amongst the lions. He hurried us forwards till we arrived at a hollow called Gud, "the Hole," which supplied us with the protection of a deserted kraal, where our camels, half-starved and knocked-up by an eight miles' march, were speedily unloaded. Whilst pitching the tent, we were visited by some Gudabirsi, who attempted to seize our Abban, alleging that he owed them a cow. We replied doughtily, that he was under our sandals: as they continued to speak in a high tone, a pistol was discharged over their heads, after which they cringed like dogs. A blazing fire, a warm supper, dry beds, broad jests, and funny stories, soon restored the flagging spirits of our party. Towards night the moon dispersed the thick mists which, gathering into clouds, threatened rain, and the cold sensibly diminished: there was little dew, and we should have slept comfortably had not our hungry mules, hobbled as they were, hopped about the kraal and fought till dawn.

On the 6th December, we arose late to avoid the cold morning air, and at 7 A.M. set out over rough ground, hoping to ascend the Ghauts that day. After creeping about two miles, the camels, unable to proceed, threw themselves upon the earth, and we unwillingly called a halt at Jiyaf, a basin below the Dobo [10] fiumara. Here, white flocks dotting the hills, and the scavengers of the air warned us that we were in the vicinity of villages. Our wigwam was soon full of fair-faced Gudabirsi, mostly Loajira [11] or cow-herd boys, who, according to the custom of their class, wore their Tobes bound scarf-like round their necks. They begged us to visit their village, and offered a heifer for each lion shot on Mount Libahlay: unhappily we could not afford time. These youths were followed by men and women bringing milk, sheep, and goats, for which, grass being rare, they asked exorbitant prices,--eighteen cubits of Cutch canvass for a lamb, and two of blue cotton for a bottle of ghee. Amongst them was the first really pretty face seen by me in the Somali country. The head was well formed, and gracefully placed upon a long thin neck and narrow shoulders; the hair, brow, and nose were unexceptionable, there was an arch look in the eyes of jet and pearl, and a suspicion of African protuberance about the lips, which gave the countenance an exceeding _naivete_. Her skin was a warm, rich nut-brown, an especial charm in these regions, and her movements had that grace which suggests perfect symmetry of limb. The poor girl's costume, a coif for the back hair, a cloth imperfectly covering the bosom, and a petticoat of hides, made no great mystery of forms: equally rude were her ornaments; an armlet and pewter earrings, the work of some blacksmith, a necklace of white porcelain beads, and sundry talismans in cases of tarnished and blackened leather. As a tribute to her prettiness I gave her some cloth, tobacco, and a bit of salt, which was rapidly becoming valuable; her husband stood by, and, although the preference was marked, he displayed neither anger nor jealousy. She showed her gratitude by bringing us milk, and by assisting us to start next morning. In the evening we hired three fresh camels [12] to carry our goods up the ascent, and killed some antelopes which, in a stew, were not contemptible. The End of Time insisted upon firing a gun to frighten away the lions, who make night hideous with their growls, but never put in an appearance.

The morning cold greatly increased, and we did not start till 8 A.M. After half an hour's march up the bed of a fiumara, leading apparently to a _cul de sac_ of lofty rocks in the hills, we quitted it for a rude zig-zag winding along its left side, amongst bushes, thorn trees, and huge rocks. The walls of the opposite bank were strikingly perpendicular; in some places stratified, in others solid and polished by the course of stream and cascade. The principal material was a granite, so coarse, that the composing mica, quartz, and felspar separated into detached pieces as large as a man's thumb; micaceous grit, which glittered in the sunbeams, and various sandstones, abounded. The road caused us some trouble; the camels' loads were always slipping from their mats; I found it necessary to dismount from my mule, and, sitting down, we were stung by the large black ants which infest these hills. [13]

About half way up, we passed two cairns, and added to them our mite like good Somal. After two hours of hard work the summit of this primitive pass was attained, and sixty minutes more saw us on the plateau above the hills,--the second zone of East Africa. Behind us lay the plains, of which we vainly sought a view: the broken ground at the foot of the mountains is broad, and mists veiled the reeking expanse of the low country. [14] The plateau in front of us was a wide extent of rolling ground, rising slightly towards the west; its colour was brown with a threadbare coat of verdure, and at the bottom of each rugged slope ran a stony water-course trending from south-west to north-east. The mass of tangled aloes, ragged thorn, and prim-looking poison trees, [15] must once have been populous; tombs and houses of the early Moslems covered with ruins the hills and ridges.

About noon, we arrived at a spot called the Kafir's Grave. It is a square enceinte of rude stones about one hundred yards each side; and legends say that one Misr, a Galla chief, when dying, ordered the place to be filled seven times with she-camels destined for his Ahan or funeral feast. This is the fourth stage upon the direct road from Zayla to Harar: we had wasted ten days, and the want of grass and water made us anxious about our animals. The camels could scarcely walk, and my mule's spine rose high beneath the Arab pad:--such are the effects of Jilal [16], the worst of travelling seasons in Eastern Africa.

At 1 P.M. we unloaded under a sycamore tree, called, after a Galla chieftain [17], "Halimalah," and giving its name to the surrounding valley. This ancient of the forest is more than half decayed, several huge limbs lie stretched upon the ground, whence, for reverence, no one removes them: upon the trunk, or rather trunks, for its bifurcates, are marks deeply cut by a former race, and Time has hollowed in the larger stem an arbour capable of containing half-a-dozen men. This holy tree was, according to the Somal, a place of prayer for the infidel, and its ancient honors are not departed. Here, probably to commemorate the westward progress of the tribe, the Gudabirsi Ugaz or chief has the white canvass turban bound about his brows, and hence rides forth to witness the equestrian games in the Harawwah Valley. As everyone who passes by, visits the Halimalah tree, foraging parties of the Northern Eesa and the Jibril Abokr (a clan of the Habr Awal) frequently meet, and the traveller wends his way in fear and trembling.

The thermometer showed an altitude of 3,350 feet: under the tree's cool shade, the climate reminded me of Southern Italy in winter. I found a butter-cup, and heard a wood-pecker [18] tapping on the hollow trunk, a reminiscence of English glades. The Abban and his men urged an advance in the afternoon. But my health had suffered from the bad water of the coast, and the camels were faint with fatigue: we therefore dismissed the hired beasts, carried our property into a deserted kraal, and, lighting a fire, prepared to "make all snug" for the night. The Bedouins, chattering with cold, stood closer to the comfortable blaze than ever did pater familias in England: they smoked their faces, toasted their hands, broiled their backs with intense enjoyment, and waved their legs to and fro through the flame to singe away the pile, which at this season grows long. The End of Time, who was surly, compared them to demons, and quoted the Arab's saying:--"Allah never bless smooth man, or hairy woman!" On the 8th of December, at 8 A.M., we travelled slowly up the Halimalah Valley, whose clayey surface glistened with mica and quartz pebbles from the hills. All the trees are thorny except the Sycamore and the Asclepias. The Gub, or Jujube, grows luxuriantly in thickets: its dried wood is used by women to fumigate their hair [19]: the Kedi, a tree like the porcupine,--all spikes,--supplies the Bedouins with hatchet-handles. I was shown the Abol with its edible gum, and a kind of Acacia, here called Galol. Its bark dyes cloth a dull red, and the thorn issues from a bulb which, when young and soft, is eaten by the Somal, when old it becomes woody, and hard as a nut. At 9 A.M. we crossed the Lesser Abbaso, a Fiumara with high banks of stiff clay and filled with large rolled stones: issuing from it, we traversed a thorny path over ascending ground between higher hills, and covered with large boulders and step-like layers of grit. Here appeared several Gudabirsi tombs, heaps of stones or pebbles, surrounded by a fence of thorns, or an enceinte of loose blocks: in the latter, slabs are used to make such houses as children would build in play, to denote the number of establishments left by the deceased. The new grave is known by the conical milk-pails surmounting the stick at the head of the corpse, upon the neighbouring tree is thrown the mat which bore the dead man to his last home, and hard by are the blackened stones upon which his funeral feast was cooked. At 11 A.M. we reached the Greater Abbaso, a Fiumara about 100 yards wide, fringed with lovely verdure and full of the antelope called Gurnuk: its watershed was, as usual in this region, from west and south-west to east and north-east. About noon we halted, having travelled eight miles from the Holy Tree.

At half past three reloading we followed the course of the Abbaso Valley, the most beautiful spot we had yet seen. The presence of mankind, however, was denoted by the cut branches of thorn encumbering the bed: we remarked too, the tracks of lions pursued by hunters, and the frequent streaks of serpents, sometimes five inches in diameter. Towards evening, our party closed up in fear, thinking that they saw spears glancing through the trees: I treated their alarm lightly, but the next day proved that it was not wholly imaginary. At sunset we met a shepherd who swore upon the stone [20] to bring us milk in exchange for tobacco, and presently, after a five miles' march, we halted in a deserted kraal on the left bank of a Fiumara. Clouds gathered black upon the hill tops, and a comfortless blast, threatening rain, warned us not to delay pitching the Gurgi. A large fire was lighted, and several guns were discharged to frighten away the lions that infest this place. Twice during the night our camels started up and rushed round their thorn ring in alarm.

* * * * *

Late in the morning of Saturday, the 9th December, I set out, accompanied by Rirash and the End of Time, to visit some ruins a little way distant from the direct road. After an hour's ride we turned away from the Abbaso Fiumara and entered a basin among the hills distant about sixteen miles from the Holy Tree. This is the site of Darbiyah Kola,--Kola's Fort,--so called from its Galla queen. It is said that this city and its neighbour Aububah fought like certain cats in Kilkenny till both were "eaten up:" the Gudabirsi fix the event at the period when their forefathers still inhabited Bulhar on the coast,--about 300 years ago. If the date be correct, the substantial ruins have fought a stern fight with time. Remnants of houses cumber the soil, and the carefully built wells are filled with rubbish: the palace was pointed out to me with its walls of stone and clay intersected by layers of woodwork. The mosque is a large roofless building containing twelve square pillars of rude masonry, and the Mihrab, or prayer niche, is denoted by a circular arch of tolerable construction. But the voice of the Muezzin is hushed for ever, and creepers now twine around the ruined fane. The scene was still and dreary as the grave; for a mile and a half in length all was ruins--ruins--ruins.

Leaving this dead city, we rode towards the south-west between two rugged hills of which the loftiest summit is called Wanauli. As usual they are rich in thorns: the tall "Wadi" affords a gum useful to cloth-dyers, and the leaves of the lofty Wumba are considered, after the Daum-palm, the best material for mats. On the ground appeared the blue flowers of the "Man" or "Himbah," a shrub resembling a potatoe: it bears a gay yellow apple full of brown seeds which is not eaten by the Somal. My companions made me taste some of the Karir berries, which in color and flavor resemble red currants: the leaves are used as a dressing to ulcers. Topping the ridge we stood for a few minutes to observe the view before us. Beneath our feet lay a long grassy plain-the sight must have gladdened the hearts of our starving mules!--and for the first time in Africa horses appeared grazing free amongst the bushes. A little further off lay the Aylonda valley studded with graves, and dark with verdure. Beyond it stretched the Wady Harawwah, a long gloomy hollow in the general level. The background was a bold sweep of blue hill, the second gradient of the Harar line, and on its summit closing the western horizon lay a golden streak--the Marar Prairie. Already I felt at the end of my journey. About noon, reaching a kraal, whence but that morning our Gudabirsi Abbans had driven off their kine, we sat under a tree and with a pistol reported arrival. Presently the elders came out and welcomed their old acquaintance the End of Time as a distinguished guest. He eagerly inquired about the reported quarrel between the Abbans and their brother-in-law the Gerad Adan. When, assured that it was the offspring of Somali imagination, he rolled his head, and with dignity remarked, "What man shutteth to us, that Allah openeth!" We complimented each other gravely upon the purity of our intentions,--amongst Moslems a condition of success,--and not despising second causes, lost no time in sending a horseman for the Abbans. Presently some warriors came out and inquired if we were of the Caravan that was travelling last evening up a valley with laden camels. On our answering in the affirmative, they laughingly declared that a commando of twelve horsemen had followed us with the intention of a sham-attack. This is favourite sport with the Bedouin. When however the traveller shows fright, the feint is apt to turn out a fact. On one occasion a party of Arab merchants, not understanding the "fun of the thing," shot two Somal: the tribe had the justice to acquit the strangers, mulcting them, however, a few yards of cloth for the families of the deceased. In reply I fired a pistol unexpectedly over the heads of my new hosts, and improved the occasion of their terror by deprecating any practical facetiousness in future.

We passed the day under a tree: the camels escorted by my two attendants, and the women, did not arrive till sunset, having occupied about eight hours in marching as many miles. Fearing lions, we pitched inside the kraal, despite crying children, scolding wives, cattle rushing about, barking dogs, flies and ticks, filth and confinement.

I will now attempt a description of a village in Eastern Africa.

The Rer or Kraal [21] is a line of scattered huts on plains where thorns are rare, beast of prey scarce, and raids not expected. In the hills it is surrounded by a strong fence to prevent cattle straying: this, where danger induces caution, is doubled and trebled. Yet the lion will sometimes break through it, and the leopard clears it, prey in mouth with a bound. The abattis has usually four entrances which are choked up with heaps of bushes at night. The interior space is partitioned off by dwarf hedges into rings, which contain and separate the different species of cattle. Sometimes there is an outer compartment adjoining the exterior fence, set apart for the camels; usually they are placed in the centre of the kraal. Horses being most valuable are side-lined and tethered close to the owner's hut, and rude bowers of brush and fire wood protect the weaklings of the flocks from the heat of the sun and the inclement night breeze.

At intervals around and inside the outer abattis are built the Gurgi or wigwams--hemispheric huts like old bee-hives about five feet high by six in diameter: they are even smaller in the warm regions, but they increase in size as the elevation of the country renders climate less genial. The material is a framework of "Digo," or sticks bent and hardened in the fire: to build the hut, these are planted in the ground, tied together with cords, and covered with mats of two different kinds: the Aus composed of small bundles of grass neatly joined, is hard and smooth; the Kibid has a long pile and is used as couch as well as roof. The single entrance in front is provided with one of these articles which serves as a curtain; hides are spread upon the top during the monsoon, and little heaps of earth are sometimes raised outside to keep out wind and rain.

The furniture is simple as the building. Three stones and a hole form the fireplace, near which sleep the children, kids, and lambs: there being no chimney, the interior is black with soot. The cow-skin couches are suspended during the day, like arms and other articles which suffer from rats and white ants, by loops of cord to the sides. The principal ornaments are basket-work bottles, gaily adorned with beads, cowris, and stained leather. Pottery being here unknown, the Bedouins twist the fibres of a root into various shapes, and make them water-tight with the powdered bark of another tree. [22] The Han is a large wicker-work bucket, mounted in a framework of sticks, and used to contain water on journeys. The Guraf (a word derived from the Arabic "Ghurfah") is a conical-shaped vessel, used to bale out the contents of a well. The Del, or milk pail, is shaped like two cones joined at the base by lateral thongs, the upper and smaller half acting as cup and cover. And finally the Wesi, or water bottle, contains the traveller's store for drinking and religious ablution.

When the kraal is to be removed, the huts and furniture are placed upon the camels, and the hedges and earth are sometimes set on fire, to purify the place and deceive enemies, Throughout the country black circles of cinders or thorn diversify the hill sides, and show an extensive population. Travellers always seek deserted kraals for security of encampment. As they swarm with vermin by night and flies by day [23], I frequently made strong objections to these favourite localities: the utmost conceded to me was a fresh enclosure added by a smaller hedge to the outside abattis of the more populous cow-kraals.