Chapter XIII: Part 13

The mule-train is at present all that can be desired. The number of animals attached to the advanced division is 8000, and comprises the Lahore mule-train, the Raul Pindee mule-train, and the A and D divisions of the transport-train. I have had occasion more than once to speak of the efficiency of the Lahore and Pindee trains, which arrived from Bengal in the most perfect order, and which, being marched straight to Senafe, did not share in the general disruption at Zulla. The A division, under Captain Griffiths, I have also spoken of, as being in excellent condition. This is the division which went up with the exploring party to Senafe, and staying there, partially escaped the crash. The D division is commanded by Captain Twentyman; an officer whose energy and devotedness at Zulla during the worst times helped to pull the transport-train through its greatest difficulties, as I had the pleasure of testifying at the time. These four divisions are under the control of Captain Hand, of the Lahore mule-train, who has been appointed their director. He is an able and energetic officer, and his management of the train gives the highest satisfaction. The transport-train authorities at Zulla have nothing whatever to do with the advanced portion, which is under the sole orders of Captain Hand.

On the morning after our arrival at Mahkan the wing of the 33d was sent on to make the road, the head-quarter camp remaining with only the escort of the 2d Horse and 3d Cavalry. In the afternoon, however, a party of Beloochees and Punjaub Pioneers came in. During the day a man came in with one of the curious lozenge-shaped guitars I have already described, and kept up a monotonous chanting for some time. The words Magdala and Tèdros were the only words generally recognised; and it was supposed that he was singing some song he had composed in our honour. An interpreter, however, who happened to come up, undeceived us by explaining that the singer, relying upon our ignorance of the language, was reciting our certain defeat, and the vengeance that Theodore would take upon us. I have no fear of the man turning out a true prophet; but it is certain that the people of the country generally look upon our chance of victory over Theodore as being a very poor one indeed. Yesterday morning we started at eight o’clock on our march to this place, and, owing to the 33d having gone on, our baggage-train was much smaller, and the difficulties and delays proportionately less. We found, upon mounting the first hill, that we had come on an entirely new and agreeable phase of Abyssinian scenery. Instead of the bare hills and plains over which, interspersed with wooded valleys, we had journeyed since we entered Abyssinia, we were transported at one bound into the very heart of Switzerland. Everywhere to the very mountain-tops was a pine-forest. In some places the trees grew closely together, with a thick underwood, which shut-in the path on both sides, and through which the road had been partially cleared by the 33d. At other times the trees were more thinly scattered about, or stood in clumps, affording every variety of park-like scenery. It was a delightful ride for about six miles through these, the road being smooth and easy. At the end of that time our difficulties began, the way lying over and along steep and very rocky hills covered with forest and brushwood. The General had expected to have found the road to a certain extent cleared by the 33d, but owing to an error, for which Major Cooper was in no way to blame, they had scarcely begun their work when we passed, instead of having been engaged upon it for twenty-four hours. Their orders had been to encamp at a stream five miles on from Mahkan, and then to set to work upon the road; and as they had started twenty-four hours before ourselves, it was anticipated that the road would be perfectly practicable for mules by the next day. The 33d were, however, furnished with no guide, and the spring was not visible from the line of march; consequently they marched past it, and did not find out their error until they were miles ahead. Major Cooper then determined upon the best course to be pursued, namely, to march straight on to this station, to encamp there, and to march his men back at daybreak to work upon the road. They had done a good deal when we arrived; but of course the mules stopped their work for a time. In some places the track was very bad; and at one of these, a rocky wall along a ledge, on the face of which we had to pass, I found Sir Robert Napier himself engaged in planning another road to avoid this obstacle, which was dangerous in a high degree for loaded animals, as the projecting load nearly pushed each one over the edge. No accident, so far as I heard, occurred, and the delays were nothing like so long or tedious as those we had incurred on many previous occasions, while the delightful shade, the songs of innumerable birds, and the fresh odour of the pine-trees rendered these halts most enjoyable. At last we reached the summit of the last ascent, and below us, at a distance of five miles, lay Lake Ashangi, a pretty sheet of water of about three miles in diameter. Its shores are in some places quite flat, but in others hills come down with gradual slopes to its very edge. Looking at England for an illustration, I should say that, except in being smaller, it more resembles Ulleswater than any of our other north-country lakes.

Beyond the lake several mountain-ranges rise one beyond another, and offer no prospect of easy journeys for some time to come. Our camp is pitched half a mile from the lake upon ground which slopes gradually down to the water’s edge, above the level of which we are probably elevated thirty feet. The lake and its shores swarm with ducks and geese. The latter are very tame, and walk about to graze in the most unconcerned manner. A great many have been shot, and are, although rather fishy, fair eating. The great difficulty attending the sport is the exceedingly boggy nature of the ground. The fissures spoken of by Mr. Munzinger, and which I mentioned in my last upon the authority of his letters, are simply nonsense. It is a large and in some places a dangerous bog; but it is simply and purely a bog, and nothing else. I was out yesterday with my gun, as were a dozen others, and although I went in above my boots, I came upon nothing really impassable, nor, with one exception, did I hear of any one else doing so. Captain Hogg, however, of the quartermaster’s department, got upon a very bad part of the bog, and was some time finding his way out; indeed, he fell into one deep place, where he would unquestionably have lost his life had he not had a man with him, who was able to put the end of his gun within reach of Captain Hogg’s hand, and so draw him out of the quagmire, into which he was sinking fast. All round the level shore of the lake, a belt of white mud of sixty or seventy yards wide extends. Upon this the game congregate, and are safe from the sportsmen, as the mud will not support a man’s weight, and the dead birds could not be recovered. The geese in plumage more resemble ducks than geese, being dark brown and green, with a large white patch upon the under part of the wing, and which only shows during their flight. A good many escape, who would fall victims to large shot; but the amount of ammunition in camp is scanty, and the shot generally of small sizes, which merely rattle against a goose’s feather at a distance of fifty yards.

To-day we have remained here quietly. Another durbar has taken place; the ambassador, or nuncio—the latter, I suppose, being the appropriate word—having come in from the chief Ulem of the Gallas tribes. This man has immense influence with the Gallas, who are Mahommedans; and it was therefore a matter of great importance to conciliate him as far as possible. I have already described two of these official receptions, and as this was precisely similar to those I have before written about, I need not enter into particulars. The only variety was, that the proceedings opened with a long letter from the Ulem to Sir Robert Napier. It was of a most friendly character, and expressed the priest’s concurrence in the “belief which we hold in common, namely,” he said, “the Old and New Testament, and the Koran.” I was not aware that the Koran was an essential part of our creed, but I have learnt something from the Ulem’s letter. Later on, too, he speaks of Mahomet as the only true mediator. These, however, were not, apparently, according to the Ulem’s view, points of vital difference, and he accordingly states that he prays unceasingly in our behalf, which is, at any rate, kind on his part. He warned us very solemnly to be extremely watchful and ever upon our guard, and the general tone of his letter was anything but hopeful. He mentioned that it was the custom of the country to send presents to travellers, and that he therefore sent the chief a present, but that the greatest present he could give us would be his prayers. One thing is certain, if his prayers are not of vastly greater value than his other present, they will not be of any great worth, for the material present was a pot of honey, value one dollar. The chief of course replied civilly, expressed our toleration of all religions and opinions, and that we had many Mussulmans in our ranks, and stated our friendly feelings towards the people of the country. He wound up by giving presents of robes, &c., for the priests. These robes were put upon the ambassador, who is a son of the Ulem, and one of the most inane-looking young men I have seen in Abyssinia. His face, as he was being invested in the robes, was one of the most comic things I ever saw, and the officers present had the greatest difficulty in restraining their gravity. He looked exactly like a baboon affecting humility. Later in the afternoon another chief came in, preceded by tom-tom and flutes, and accompanied by a considerable body of warriors. A remarkable thing which I noticed then, and which I had not before seen, was that they carried headless lances, in token of amity.

We had rather a curious scene this afternoon. A native was detected in the act of thieving, and was sentenced by Colonel Fraser, who acts as provost-marshal, to two dozen lashes. His friends and relatives, however, made so great a howling that the Commander-in-chief came out of his tent to see what was the matter. Finding that the natives took the matter greatly to heart, he gave the man over to be punished by themselves; and after a palaver of an hour, he was sentenced to pay one quarter of the value of the article stolen, or to receive six blows with a stick. Mr. Speedy was about to remonstrate with them upon the insufficiency of the punishment, when the chief who had acted as judge drew him aside, and stated that in the course of the examination they had found that the offender was a Christian, whereas they were themselves Mussulmans; and that if they were to punish him as he deserved, it would cause a war. Throughout Abyssinia,—that is, as far as we have travelled,—even where Christians are in the majority, the Mahommedans look down upon them; and there is no doubt that in a moral point of view the Mahommedans are greatly the superior. Christianity certainly does not work well among natives. Both in India and here a Christian is by no means a man of high standing either in respectability or morality. It is singular that the abodes of the natives here are precisely similar to those at Zulla. There they were built of wattles, with conical thatched roofs. Since that time we have passed mud huts with flat roofs, stone huts with flat roofs, stone huts with thatched roofs, and now we have again come upon the Zulla type of cottages, wattled walls with conical thatched roofs. The villages are always perched upon eminences, and the houses are crowded together and surrounded by a thick fence of boughs, with the ends outwards like a military abattis. The natives are not quite so dark as the people of Tigre, and are not so well armed, for I have not seen any fire-arms among them. Sir Charles Staveley has, I hear, arrived at Mahkan, with the 4th, the 3d Native Cavalry, and Penn’s battery. He, like ourselves, is engaged in road-making. The orders are, that the pioneer force are to make the road practicable for mules, and that General Staveley’s force is to make it practicable for elephants. As elephants can go almost everywhere that mules are able to do, he will not be long delayed, and will probably arrive at Lât, which is two days’ march forward, within a day or two of ourselves. It is probable that we shall halt two or three days there, to allow the force to concentrate. I hear that Twiss’s Mountain Train and the Naval Rocket Brigade are only a march behind General Staveley, and will arrive with him at Lât. I have seen to-night that the 45th has also been ordered to come on at once, to form part of the first division. This order will not only give satisfaction to the regiment itself, but also to us all; for the 45th is said to be one of the best and most efficient regiments in India.

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Lât, March 21st.

We had all looked forward to a halt at this place for at least two or three days. This hope, however, has not been realised; for we arrived this afternoon, and start again to-morrow morning, at which time our real hardships may be said to commence in earnest. But it is better, before I enter upon this, to relate our doings of the last two days.

Leaving our camp near Ashangi, the road ran on level ground parallel to the lake for a mile or so, and then, the mountains approaching to the edge of the water, we had to climb over the spur. The height was not very great, but it was one of the roughest, and certainly the steepest climb we have yet had. Once on the crest, the hill sloped gradually down, and we presently came upon the water again near the head of the lake. This spot was the next day the scene of a fatal accident. Two or three officers came down to shoot, and one of the birds fell into the water. One of their servants, who was a good swimmer, at once went in to fetch it out. It is probable that he was seized with cramp, for he sank suddenly. Captain Pottinger at once jumped in, and swam out to the spot, but was unable to see anything of him. Our camping-ground was about two miles distant from the head of the lake, upon flat ground. The distance from Ashangi was little over six miles.

We halted here the next day in order to let General Staveley’s Brigade reach Ashangi. This they did upon the day after we had left it. There was considerable regret in camp to hear that General Staveley himself, who had been attacked at Atzala with acute rheumatism, was very much worse, and had been carried in a palkee. He had entirely lost the use of his limbs, and it was considered improbable that he would be able to come on farther with the army. This would be a very great loss for the expedition, and I sincerely hope that their apprehensions will not be verified.

The morning of our halt, a general order was promulgated which filled us with consternation. No baggage whatever is to be henceforward allowed either for men or officers. Soldiers are to carry their greatcoat, a blanket, and waterproof sheet, in addition to their rifle, ammunition, havresack, &c. This will bring the weight to be carried by each man up to fifty-five pounds; an overwhelming weight over such a tremendous country as that which we have to traverse, and beneath a tropical sun. I question very much whether the men will be able to stand it, and several of the medical staff to whom I have spoken are quite of that opinion. What the roads are likely to be, is manifest enough by a portion of the general order, which says that in future no mule is to carry over 100 pounds; and yet the authorities put more than half that weight upon a man’s shoulders. It is not even as if the men had their knapsacks, in which the greatcoat, &c. could be packed, and carried with comparative ease; they will have to be slung over the shoulders by the coat-arms, and will distress the soldier far more than they would have done if carried in knapsacks. It was an extraordinary oversight leaving the knapsacks behind at Antalo; for it was evident even then that they would be required. Unmounted officers are to have a greatcoat, blanket, and waterproof-sheet carried for them, and mounted officers may carry what they can put upon their horses. No baggage-animals whatever are to go forward with luggage. The men are to be packed twenty in a bell tent, and twelve officers are to have the same accommodation. More than a fourth part of the soldiers are out on picket and guard every night; therefore the number of men in each tent will be practically about the same as the officers. Fancy twelve officers in a tent! They will be packed like herrings in a tub; and men are calculating to-day how many square inches of ground each will possess. Everyone takes it good-humouredly, and there is no grumbling whatever; but for all that, it is rather a serious business. If it were for two or three days, it would be all well enough; but Magdala is a considerable distance from here. The Quartermaster-general’s department talk about a six days’ march. Captain Speedy says that sixteen is very much nearer the mark; and as he has a knowledge of the country, while the Quartermaster’s department have uniformly been wrong in their distances, it is safe to assume that it is a fifteen days’ march; that is to say, even without allowing a day for the capture of Magdala, or for arranging matters there, we cannot be back to Lât under a month. There is some talk of the baggage coming up after us; but this will certainly not come to anything. I know that we have barely animals enough with us to carry our food, and every available mule in the rear is coming on with Staveley’s Brigade. We may, then, calculate with tolerable certainty that we shall not get any of our baggage until we return to Lât, which, at the very earliest, will be a month hence, and not improbably twice that time. We are told that the cold at night is very great on ahead, and that the rains are heavy and frequent. It is therefore a very serious matter for men to start without a single change of clothes of any kind. Putting aside the rain, the men will suffer so greatly from the heat, and from the labour of climbing mountains with so heavy a load upon their backs, that it would be a most material matter for them to have at any rate a dry flannel-shirt to put on when the cold evening wind begins to blow. Time will show how the men stand it; but it is certainly a hazardous experiment.

This morning we started for this place. Lât has always been spoken of as a place where we should halt and form a dépôt, and we had therefore expected to have found a large village; but as far as I have seen, there is not a native hut in the neighbourhood. Upon leaving our last camping-ground, we ascended a lofty and steep hill, and then had to wind for a long distance upon a rocky ledge, where a false step would have been certain death. After several minor rises and descents, we came down to the valley in which the stream, near which we are encamped, runs. Although there are no villages in sight, there must be a considerable native population in the neighbourhood, for a large number of natives have come in with supplies. The officers of the transport-train are buying every sword and spear brought in, for the use of the muleteers; as, although Theodore is reported at Magdala, he might at any moment make a sudden march down with a few thousand men, and might be upon us before we knew that he was within fifty miles’ distance. Should we be attacked in one of these gorges, or on a narrow ledge with a precipice below, scattered as we should necessarily be over an immense length of road, Theodore might, by a sudden attack upon our baggage, do such damage in a few minutes, that we might be obliged to retire to Antalo, to fetch up fresh supplies. There is no disguising the fact, that in making our rush from such a long distance we are running no inconsiderable risk.

Sir Robert Napier’s original plan was to have formed a dépôt with five months’ provisions at some place about half-way between Antalo and Magdala, and to have marched forward from that place with two months’ provisions. Instead of this we are starting from Lât with only fifteen days’ provisions, and there is no dépôt of any importance, nor will there be, nearer than Antalo itself. The whole of the available mules will accompany the advancing division, and we shall have to depend entirely for future supplies upon the native carriage. The stock of food we have with us will barely last us to Magdala; we know not whether we shall be able to purchase any flour on the way, or how we may fare for forage for our animals. Between Antalo and Magdala are many tribes and chiefs,—we have already passed Waldo Yasus and the Gallas,—and some of these, after we have passed, may take it into their heads to stop the native animals going up with stores; and the whole of the system upon which we have solely to depend would then break down, and our position would be as precarious a one as it is possible to imagine. It is indeed a tremendous risk to run; but then we are playing for a very high stake. We are running a race with the rains. If we were to stop here for a fortnight or three weeks, and to send the whole of the transport animals down to Antalo to fetch up more provisions, we should infallibly have to wait out here over the rainy season; and the difficulties of provisioning the force during that period, and the probable mortality which might ensue, would be so great that Sir Robert Napier no doubt considers himself justified in running a very considerable risk in order to reach the sea-coast before the rains. Of course the matter has been discussed and talked over in every light among the officers; and the general opinion is, that unless we obtain an unlooked-for supply, as we did at Antalo, somewhere between this and Magdala, our position will be a very critical one. With most other generals, men would, I think, be inclined to take rather a gloomy view of it; but everyone has such confidence in Sir Robert Napier that they are quite content to leave matters in his hands.

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Dildee, March 24th.

I sent off a very hurriedly-written letter two days since from Lât. In these two days we have crossed thirty-one miles of as rough a country as the warmest admirer of the desolate and savage could wish to see. Around us, as far as the eye could reach, was stretched a perfect sea of mountains; and up and down these we have tumbled and stumbled—not a few horses getting tremendous falls—from morning until long after nightfall. It has been one long monotonous toil. Sometimes we climb upon smooth slippery rock; then we ascend steep paths covered with loose boulders of every size; then we are upon a narrow ledge on a mountain’s face; then we are crashing through thick bushes. One can no longer keep count of the number of ravines we cross, for we climb a dozen hills a day. It would puzzle even the engineers of the Topographical Department to lay down this rugged and broken country in a map. It would be as easy to make a map of the Straits of Dover, and to draw each wave to its proper scale. The toil of the troops during these two days has been tremendous. The first day’s march was thirteen miles; yesterday’s was eighteen,—many say it was twenty; but I think a long eighteen was about the mark. Eighteen miles would be a long march in England, but here it is a tremendous journey. Each man is carrying with him ammunition, &c.—fifty-five pounds—more than half a mule-load. In addition to this, most of the troops are now upon baggage-guard, and have to assist in constantly adjusting loads and looking after the mules. Lastly, a fourth of the troops are out every night upon picket. I had occasion, in a letter written from Mahkan, to speak upon the cruel over-marching of men and animals; but that was nothing to these two days’ marches. The country now is much rougher, the distances longer, and the men have in addition to carry their kits. The troops came in last night in a prostrate state; very many did not come in at all. I should say that not more than half the baggage arrived until this morning; and to add to the other disagreeables, we had a tremendous thunderstorm about eight o’clock, which wetted every soul, except the very few who had been fortunate enough to get up their tents, to the skin. The men have no change of clothes with them, and of course had to sleep in their wet clothes. Of those who were on the road when the rain began, some held on and came straggling in up to ten o’clock; the greater number, however, unrolled their blanket and waterproof-sheet, and lay down where they were for the night. I say fearlessly that such a march over such a country was never before made by similarly-weighted men. Of course we have to halt to-day, and then by to-night we shall have progressed a less distance towards Magdala than we should have done had we made three days’ marches of, say, eleven miles each. Nor is there any reason why we should not have done so. We are fortunately now in a well-watered country. Good-sized streams run between each of the higher ranges, and we crossed four or five of them yesterday.

General Staveley, who I am glad to hear is better, is only one day in our rear. An officer has gone back this morning to direct him to halt to-night at the stream three and a half miles behind. The weather has been warmer for the last two days, and this has of course increased the labour of the soldiers. Had it not been for the frequent occurrence of water, I do not think that one quarter of the troops would have got in last night. Yesterday’s camp was admirably chosen for defensive purposes, being surrounded on all sides by a deep nullah. To-day’s camp is convenient, and is also defended on one side by a nullah, but has the disadvantage that the nullah is two hundred feet deep, and is extremely precipitous, the water being only accessible even on foot at two places, and consequently the difficulty of watering the animals is very great. The water, however, and indeed all that we have met with for the last day or two, is delicious. This is indeed a treat. Hitherto the water has been singularly nasty—thick and full of insects when stagnant, earthy and bad-tasting when running. Here it is fresh, clear, and pure. Rum is quite at a discount. The ravine through which the stream runs is very picturesque. The slope is steep, but well-wooded down to the bottom of the nullah; but the stream itself has cut a way from twenty to thirty feet wide through the solid rock at the bottom. The sides are as perpendicular as walls, and are in some places thirty feet deep. It is only, as I have said, at two points that we can get down to the water. This narrow gorge is overhung with trees, and in every cranny and on every tiny ledge grow lovely patches of green ferns. It requires no stretch of fancy to imagine oneself by the side of a pretty mountain-stream in Wales or Ireland. The vegetation is too bright and varied for a Highland stream. Nearly every officer in camp, and a good number of the men, have been down this morning for a bathe, which is doubly refreshing after the fatigue of yesterday and the paucity of our present washing appliances. The camp yesterday morning presented quite an unusual appearance. The head-quarter camp had shrivelled in dimensions from twenty tents down to four; and outside of them, soon after daybreak, the whole staff might be seen engaged in the various processes of washing and dressing. Twelve men may manage to sleep in a tent, but it is quite impossible that they can simultaneously dress there. Not, indeed, that any of the tents contained their full complement. Some had slung their blankets like hammocks upon the trees; others were content to roll themselves in their rugs, and sleep upon a waterproof-sheet under a bush; and besides this there was a hospital-tent, and as there are no sick, some of the officers were drafted off into this. Indeed, all might have been very much more comfortable, had those of their number who, like ourselves, have brought _tentes d’abri_, been allowed to carry them on their horses. I was very fortunate in getting into shelter before the storm came on last night. I had ridden on before my spare horse, which, with my tent and etceteras upon his back, was nearly at the rear of the column. I arrived here about half-past four, having been nearly nine hours upon the road; and I was fairly exhausted when I got in from fatigue and want of food. Fortunately, however, the natives had brought in bread for sale, and after eating some of this, and going down to the nullah for a bathe, I was quite restored again. I was not, however, comfortable in my mind; for the clouds had been banking-up fast, and the thunder had been almost incessant in the hills for the last two hours. I could see by the baggage which was coming in, that my animal could not, if he kept his place in the line, be in for hours, if at all. When I got up to the camp, I was delighted to see my little tent pitched. My companion, who had been behind me, had, finding that the road was badly blocked, got them along by other paths, fortunately without more damage than one of the horses falling over a precipice twelve or thirteen feet high, into some bushes, which broke the animal’s fall. The horse was but little hurt; and with this slight mishap, which is nothing here, where horses and mules are constantly rolling over steep places, he had succeeded in getting into camp three or four hours before the animals could have possibly reached it, had they kept in their original place in the line; indeed it was most improbable that they could have got in last night at all. The lightning during the next half-hour was incessant, and before the dinner could be cooked, great drops began to patter down. We shouted to the servants to do the best they could for themselves with their blankets and waterproof-sheets, while we took refuge in our little tent, with an officer whose baggage, like that of the great majority, had not arrived. In a minute or two, it came down almost in a sheet. We lit our pipes, and consoled ourselves that if we had nothing to eat, we were no worse off than anyone else, whereas we were in shelter, while hardly another soul was so. While thus philosophising to our own contentment, the front of the tent was suddenly opened, and a hand was thrust in with a dish of cutlets, then plates and knives and forks. Our fellows had nobly stuck to their work, preferring to get drenched to the skin rather than that their masters should go without dinner. These Goa-men are certainly excellent servants. They are not physically strong: they are quiet, weakly-looking men, with little energy and no habitude to hardships. They make capital hotel-waiters, but could scarcely have been expected to have supported the fatigue of a campaign like this. They do so, however, and seem none the worse for it. Altogether they are worth any money upon an expedition of this sort, and are infinitely more serviceable than an English servant would be.

The storm ceased last night at about half-past ten. It is now thundering among the distant hills, and it is evident that we shall have, this afternoon, a repetition of last night’s storm. It will, however, find us better prepared to withstand it. The natives are bringing in an abundance of goods of all kinds. Honey, grain, onions, goats, sheep, fowls, bread, and eggs. The fowls and eggs are the first we have seen since Attegrat. Prices rule about the same. Two little fowls, a dollar; twelve eggs—about half of which average bad—at the same price. A bottle of honey, a dollar, &c. Dear as things are, it is unnecessary to say that they are all eagerly bought up. We are accustomed to high prices now; and I heard a soldier, who did not get in until this morning, say that he paid a dollar in the night for a drink of water.

Of course we have now a constant succession of news from the front. It is very contradictory, but the general report is that Theodore is marching towards Dalanta, to attack us on our way. Some of the spies assert that two o’clock on Friday night is the hour fixed for our destruction. If Theodore does mean, as is likely enough, to make a night attack, I do not think he would be weak enough to let it be known many hours beforehand as to where it will take place. However, it is no use offering any speculation now upon events which we may see determined in two or three days, and the result of which will be known by telegraph long before this letter can reach London.

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Santarai, March 29th.

We are beginning to believe Magdala to be a _fata morgana_, an _ignis fatuus_, which gets more and more distant the nearer we approach it. At Dildee we were told that it was only four marches distant. We have made three marches, and have sixty more miles to go; and yet Magdala is not more than twenty-five miles in a straight line, and is visible from a point four miles distant from this camp. It is found, however, that the country is perfectly impracticable, and that we must take a detour of sixty miles to get there. I can hardly imagine what this country in a direct line to Magdala can be like, for we have passed over hundreds of miles which no one would have imagined it possible for an army with its baggage-animals to surmount. We have scaled mountains and descended precipices; we have wound along the face of deep ravines, where a false step was death; we are familiar with smooth slippery rock and with loose boulders; and after this expedition it can hardly be said that any country is impracticable for an army determined to advance. I hear, however, that between this and Magdala there are perpendicular precipices running like walls for miles, places which could scarcely be scaled by experienced cragsmen, much less by loaded mules. We must therefore make a detour. It is tiresome, for everyone is burning with impatience to be at Magdala, and to solve the long-debated problems—will Theodore fight? will he fight in the open, or defend Magdala? or will he hand over the captives with an apology? and shall we be content to receive one? I believe that I can answer the last question with certainty. We shall not. If Theodore sends in the captives we shall receive them, but shall certainly exact retribution from him. We shall either take him prisoner or compel him to fly. If we obtain the prisoners unhurt, we shall still take Magdala. If he escape to the mountains with a few adherents, we shall, in that case, be content to retire, and to leave the task of hunting him down to his numerous enemies; but if he murder the prisoners we shall ourselves remain here until he is captured. I think I may positively state that this, or something very like it, is the tenor of the instructions given to Sir Robert Napier by the Government; and I think that they will be heartily approved by all, except by those negrophilists who deny that a black man can do wrong. It would be impossible to allow Theodore to go unpunished; indeed, it would be offering a premium to all savage potentates in future time to make prisoners of any English travellers who may fall into their hands.

I now return to Dildee, from which place I last wrote, while we were halting in consequence of the tremendous march of the preceding day. Upon the evening of the day upon which we halted we heard that General Staveley had arrived with the force under his command at a stream five miles in our rear, and had there halted. He had with him the 4th, a wing of the 33d, six companies of the Punjaub Pioneers, Twiss’s Battery, and the Naval Rocket Train. It was decided that the wing of the 33d, who were with us, should halt for a day, and should come on as a complete regiment, and that the 4th, which is numerically much weaker than the 33d, should push on with the advance. The next day’s march was short, but severe, as we had to climb a mountain 3000 feet above our camping-ground. It was hard work, but was got over much more speedily than usual, as the train was much smaller, owing to our diminished numbers; and we had consequently fewer of the tedious blocks so trying to both man and beast. The road was in most places pretty good; but was dangerous for a long distance where it wound along the face of a deep ravine. The country here must be either much more densely populated, or the people much more industrious than in most of the districts over which we have passed; for there were patches of cultivation to the very top of the mountain, which, where we crossed it, was about 11,000 feet above the sea. The mountain side was bare of trees, or even bushes; but, curiously enough, very near the summit were large quantities of small palm-trees, with thick straight stems, three or four feet high, and clustered heads of spreading leaves. Several Indian officers agreed with me in considering them to be a species of palm, but we had no botanist amongst us, and it seemed most unlikely that even dwarf palm-trees should be growing in such a lofty and exposed position. I have only before seen palm-trees twice in Abyssinia, once at Goun Gonna, where two or three grew near the church, and in a valley between Attegrat and Antalo.

Arrived at the top of the pass, we found ourselves at the head of a deep ravine, on the side of which, a quarter of a mile from the summit, it was decided that the camp should be pitched. A more uncomfortable place for a camp could hardly be imagined. The ground was ploughed, and was extremely sloping. The supply of water was deficient, and was four or five hundred feet below us, and the wind swept over the top of the pass with piercing force. However, there was no help for it. The 4th had started four miles behind us, and there was no ground even so good as that selected for another seven miles. Immediately on our arrival, and before the tents were pitched, a tremendous shower came on, and everyone got drenched before the baggage-animals arrived with the tents. The black earth turned, as if by magic, into slimy clay, and our position was the reverse of agreeable. Far worse, however, was the condition of the 4th, which, having halted at Dildee for two hours, did not arrive until between eight and nine in the evening, wetted of course to the skin. We now felt bitterly the inconvenience of not having even one change of clothes with us. It could, however, have hardly been foreseen that, after having had only two or three showers since we arrived in Abyssinia, we were to be exposed to heavy rains regularly every day, which has, with one exception, been the case for the last week. As it is, it is impossible to say how long we shall be in our present state of only having the clothes we stand in. It is a week since we left our little all behind us at Lât. We are still a week’s march from Magdala, and may calculate on being fully a month without our baggage. Officers have all managed somehow to bring on a second shirt and pair of stockings; but the soldiers have no change of any kind. For them, and indeed for the officers, to be wetted through day after day, and to have no dry clothes to put on, and this at an altitude of 11,000 feet above the sea, and when the cold at night is more pierceing than anything I ever experienced, is trying in the extreme, and a great many are already complaining of rheumatic pains. That night at the top of the hill was the most unpleasant that officers or men have passed since their arrival in the country: wet through, cold, and lying upon ground so steep that we kept perpetually sliding down off our waterproof sheet. As to lying in the orthodox fashion, side by side, with all the heels close to the pole, like the spokes of a wheel, the thing was simply impossible. In many of the tents the men’s feet would have been a yard higher than their heads. However, there were few grumblings at the discomfort; but I can answer that I for one was greatly pleased when I saw daylight break, to get up from my uncomfortable sliding couch. We were ordered to start at eight, but the men’s things were still so wet that the march was postponed for two hours, to allow the blankets and greatcoats to be dried in the wind and sun.

Our next march was again only seven miles to a place called Muja, not that there was a village of any kind there, or indeed at eighteen out of twenty places we have stopped at. To suppose that the natives have a name for every field is absurd. Two speculations have been started as to how the quartermaster-general’s department always obtain a name for our camping-ground—the one is that they say something to a native, and the first word he utters they put down at once for the station; the other is that they draw a certain number of vowels and consonants from a bag, drop them on the ground, and see what word they form. It is certain that scarcely a name corresponds with those set down in maps, and instead of calling these flats and plains by any name the first native may tell them, it would be much more sensible, and would render it much more easy for an English reader to follow our course, if our quartermasters were to take some good map, and fix upon the name which most nearly corresponds with the position of our camps.

The seven-miles road down to Muja was not difficult, but was one of the most dangerous we have passed over. The path for the whole distance wound along on the face of a deep ravine. It was often little more than a foot wide, and was formed sometimes upon rock, and sometimes on black earth, which had been dried hard by the wind and sun before we passed along it, but which if wet would have been perfectly impassable. Had a storm come on when we were upon it, we must have stopped to unload the animals. As it was, only one stumbled and went over the edge, and was of course killed.

We have had a good many casualties lately among the animals. The Scinde Horse, too, have lost several horses, but this is hardly surprising from the way in which they ride them. A Scinde horseman, and I believe most of the native cavalry, have an idea that it shows good horsemanship to ride a horse up and down very steep places. It would be a great saving of horseflesh if an order were issued that all native cavalry should dismount and lead their horses up, if not down also, long or steep hills. Our camping-ground at Muja was flat and turfy, but it had the disadvantage of being a great height above water. Sir Robert Napier himself upon his arrival rode a couple of miles farther in search of some site more convenient for watering the animals, but he was unsuccessful in doing so. The camping-ground had also the disadvantage of a very great scarcity of wood.

Our view from Muja was very striking. Six miles in front, and a thousand feet below us, lay the valley of the Tacazze. Beyond arose a straight line of mountains, more steep and formidable than anything we have hitherto seen. The slope at their feet was comparatively easy, but it increased rapidly, and a wall of perpendicular rock of upwards of a hundred feet high ran along the crests without the slightest apparent break. The range looked like a mighty natural barrier to our further progress into Abyssinia. However, we knew that the exploring-party was upon the plateau on the summit, having gone up by the native road. Our order for the morrow was, that we were to march early down to the Tacazze; that we were to encamp in the valley, and that the troops were to set to work to make the road up the ghaut practicable for our ascent upon the following day. At eight o’clock in the evening, however, Captain Fawcett, of the quartermaster’s department, rode into camp with a letter from Colonel Phayre, evidently written in great consternation of mind, and saying that Mr. Munzinger, who is with Gobayze’s army, was missing, and had no doubt fallen into Theodore’s hands—that Theodore himself, with his army, had crossed the Bachelo river, and was advancing to attack us; and urging that more troops should be sent on.

Of course there was great excitement in the camp at this news. We were only thirty-five miles in a straight line from Magdala, only twenty-three from the Bachelo, and as Theodore, with his lightly-weighted natives would march nearly straight, it was probable that we should be attacked on the next night. In another hour an order was issued, which showed that Sir Robert Napier, as well as ourselves, looked upon this information as most important. The column was only to halt for two or three hours at the Tacazze, while a strong working-party made the road to some extent passable. We were then to march up it, and to encamp upon the plateau for the night.

It was evident that the Commander-in-chief felt the importance of gaining the summit of the precipitous range opposite before Theodore got to its top to prevent our so doing. All the evening our talk was of Sniders and night-attacks, and every _pro_ and _con_ was warmly discussed. At seven the troops started, and in two hours and a half reached the Tacazze. The Tacazze is here an insignificant stream, very inferior to many of those we have previously crossed. Indeed, it is more a succession of pools than a stream, and yet as one crossed it, one could not forget that this was one of the fountain-heads of the mighty Nile—that it was this little streamlet, which, swollen by a thousand tributaries, rushes every July into the main river, raising its level many feet, and fertilising all Egypt with the rich Abyssinian soil it carries down.

We went on half-a-mile farther across the valley to a point where the commissariat had collected a dépôt of grain. Here the mules were unloaded, fed and watered, and the troops had breakfast, while strong fatigue-parties of the Beloochees, Punjaubees, and 4th went up the hill to work upon the road, under the direction of Captains Goodfellow and Lemessurier of the Engineers. In three hours afterwards the signallers on the top of the hill waved us word that the road was passable, and we started for a climb of a clear two thousand five hundred feet. It was hard work, but the road was surprisingly free from difficulties or dangers until we reached within two or three hundred feet of the top. Then there were some exceedingly nasty bits, but upon the whole it was nothing like what we had anticipated, and not to be compared to many places we have before passed.

As we reached the top, Colonel Cameron called upon the 4th for three cheers, telling them that thrashing Theodore would be nothing to the task of climbing that hill. The men responded heartily but feebly; breath, not inclination, being wanting. They then marched cheerily on across a plateau level for another mile, in high spirits at the brush they were looking forward to with Theodore. We soon found, as I had imagined that we should do, that this anticipation was destined for the present to be disappointed.

Munzinger was not missing, and never had been. He had gone out for a ride, and his servant said, on being questioned, that he did not know where he was. Theodore had not crossed, and apparently had not the least idea of crossing the Bachelo, but was still making every effort to get his guns into Magdala.

We had no sooner reached the plateau than we became conscious of a very great change in the temperature. The wind blew bitterly cold, and not a single tree or even bush of the smallest size was visible for the purposes of firewood. There were numerous native cattle grazing on the hill-sides, and the men at once set to work to pick up dried cow-dung, which the natives habitually use for fuel; others busied themselves in cutting peat; and the fires were soon lighted under the cooking-pots. At six o’clock we had our usual heavy rain, lasting for two hours; but fortunately before it set in the tents were safely pitched. Only, therefore, the men on duty got wet. The night was most piercingly cold. To say that ice formed upon water gives no idea whatever of the cold. A strong March east wind blew with a force which penetrated to the very bones. I can safely say that never in my life did I feel the cold so much as I have the two last nights. The troops, especially the natives, of course feel it still more severely. Rheumatic pains are beginning to be generally felt, and a week of this work will fill the hospital-tents. The cold will tell more severely when the stock of rum is exhausted. Each regiment brought up some with their fifteen days’ supplies, and this is not yet exhausted; but the commissariat supply is finished, and we have had none now for four days. The sugar has been also exhausted, and the tea was running very short. I am happy to say, however, that a fresh supply has arrived to-day; for cold water only in such a climate as this would be the reverse of cheering.