Volume One—Chapter Twenty Two.

Red House of Muda?to—Chronicle of the Conquest of Aussa.

Distinguished like the houses of York and Lancaster by their respective colours, “the white house” of Débenik-Wóema, composed of various Ada?el clans, who in time of need rally under one standard, is banded against the Assa-himéra, “the red house” of the Muda?to, with the same bitter feud and animosity which spread desolation through the fair domains of England, and poured out the best blood of her heroic sons. Well would it be for the cause of humanity were these savage combatants animated also with the same noble and chivalrous feelings which in days of yore reigned paramount in the breast of the British knight, and met together only in the open field of honourable contest. But the case is widely different indeed; and under whatever circumstances the hated and hereditary foe may here be discovered, the unarmed bosom of the lone, sleeping, or unsuspecting wanderer, rarely fails to prove a sheath for the murderous knife of the assassin.

Aussa, formerly an important town, was, less than a century ago, the capital and principal seat of the united tribes of Muda?to, who extend thence to Ras Billool, and are represented to be countless as the hairs of a Danákil head. Regarded as the seat of wisdom and learning, and governed in the latter days of its strength by Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, a brave and martial sultán, whose armoury boasted of many matchlocks, and of several small pieces of cannon, it long flourished in powerful independence—a bright spot of beauty in a waste of barrenness. But the sun of its prosperity at length set; and the predatory hostilities long exercised towards the various united tribes of Ada?el, leading to a general invasion on the part of the Ado-himéra, the prince was slain, the stronghold of the “red house” sacked, and its garrison put to the sword: nor in these degenerate days is this once important place more than an extensive encampment, whereat is held a perpetual fair, frequented by all the tribes of Danákil, Eesah, Somauli, and Muda?to.

The site of Aussa, a wide-stretching valley, described to be from eight to ten days’ journey across for a caravan, is hemmed in by lofty mountains, and fertilised in all its extended quarters by the Lakes Guraa?d, Abhibbab, Hilloo, and Dugód—the first situated a little to the eastward of the town, and the last by far the largest of the four. These vast stagnant basins in the plain receive the Abyssinian waters of the Háwash and its tributaries, in addition to the contributions of all the streams from Jebel Oobnoo and other collateral ranges—the abundance of fluid thus lost upon volcanic formation, so enriching the soil as to enable this district to produce wheat, juwarree, barley, Indian com, pepper, and tobacco, in quantities sufficient for the supply of the entire coast.

The Háwash may be conjectured to have experienced interruption in its course to the Bahr Assál and Bay of Tajúra, at the same period that volcanic agency divided the waters of the great Salt Lake from Goobut el Kharáb. Miles around the wonted boundaries of each lagoon now become annually inundated during the spreading of the great freshes; and, as the floods, carried off by absorption and evaporation, again recede, the soil is covered with a fertilising sediment—a fat alluvial deposit, which with little labour yields an ample return. Even the lazy and listless Danákil, who neither sows nor reaps elsewhere, is here induced to turn agriculturist; but not a single acre of ground in any direction is to be found under the plough from the sea even to the mountains of Abyssinia—a distance exceeding three hundred and fifty miles.

Pastoral as well as agricultural pursuits engage the population of Aussa; but whilst the cultivating portion of the inhabitants are permanent residents on the soil, the shepherds are annually driven away by the gad-fly, which attacks the flocks from the setting-in of the rainy season until the termination of the fast of Ramzan, when the waters have again subsided, and the herdsman, descending from the mountains, returns to his occupation in the valley. An extensive commercial intercourse is moreover carried on with Tajúra. Salt from the Bahr Assál, blue calico, which is in high demand for the caps universally worn by the married Bedouin females, zinc, pewter, and brass or copper wire, used both for personal ornament, and for the decoration of weapons, are bartered for the produce of the luxuriant soil—some few caravans crossing the Háwash, and pursuing their journey along the western bank to Dowwé, on the frontier of the Wollo Galla, in order to purchase slaves; or striking into the main road at Amádoo, and so prosecuting their way to Shoa for a similar purpose.

Muda?to tribes occupy the entire plain of Aussa, but they are now divided into five distinct nations. The Assa-himéra are under the rule of Humferi, a descendant of the ancient house of Ajdáhis, who preserves the empty title of Sultán, and resides at the decayed capital. Eastward are the Issé-hirába, governed by Das Ali, an independent chief, and the Galeyla, under Daamer Ibrahim; south are the Dár, who own allegiance to Akil Digger Myárgi; and west are the ferocious Koorhá, under the sway of Yoosuf Aboo Bekr, who, also with the title of Akil, resides at Alta, and wages war indiscriminately on both Assa-himéra and Débenik-Wóema.

South-westward of the valley of Aussa are the independent Ada?el tribes Hurruk Boda?to, over whom presides Gobuz Elincha, a powerful chieftain, who has espoused Léni, daughter of Birru Lubo, the Prince of Argóbba, and through whose territories lies the high caravan route to Dowwé, with which the traffic is considerable. On the north, the Muda?to are bounded by the distinct nation styled Hírto, under the rule of Yingool Ali—Mohammadans, deriving their origin from the Arab invaders of the seventh century, and speaking a language not very dissimilar from the Ada?el, who claim the same descent.

Aussa is still the abode of all the Uleemas, Aukál, and learned doctors, for whom the Muda?to have ever been renowned, but the present government is singularly constituted. The aged Sultán Humferi, son of Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, has retained with his high-sounding title the mere shadow of authority, which is in truth vested in Mohammad Ali, the vicegerent of the Débenik-Wóema, appointed by general suffrage from Tajúra. Residing at Kulloo, and ruling with an iron hand, he admits of little interference; and, in all cases where disputes between the “red” and “white” houses of the proprietors of the soil and their invaders, terminate fatally to the latter, takes two lives for one, according to the immemorial observance in blood feuds.

Ameer Sulaam, the Wuzír of the Muda?to, is head of all the sages, and he is aided in the administration of justice by Hurrur Hássan, Téeoh, and Bérbera or “Pepper” Ali, the latter so styled from the volubility of his sarcastic tongue. This triumvirate of venerable sheikhs, whose wisdom and learning is reputed to be kum el báhr, “profound as the sea,” is referred to on all occasions where knotty points are at issue, whether amongst the Ado-himéra or Muda?to; and even the Sultán of Tajúra was on a late occasion held bound to abide by their arbitration, relative to the projected marriage of his son to a bride from another clan of the “white house,” a measure which was resisted, and which he was desirous of enforcing. Yet a transit duty of fifty per cent, is levied by Mohammad ibn Mohammad upon all exports made by the Muda?to, whereas ten per cent, only is exacted from the numerous Danákil tribes.

“A large Arab force from Zeylá,” observed Ibrahim Shehém Abli, who was well versed in the chronicles of Aussa, “was induced to join the Débenik-Wóema in their invasion of the predatory Muda?to hordes; and overtures of capitulation having been made by Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, they were thrown off their guard. During the night the Wóema, who knew with what villains they had to deal, bivouacked upon the heights of Dugódlee and Hy Tunkóma, where they rested safely enough. But the blockheads of Arabs choosing to sleep in the plain, the garrison took advantage of their folly to make a goom: and so cleverly was it managed, that by Allah! they succeeded in drawing their creeses across the throats of all save one.”

Nothing intimidated by this reverse, and joined by fresh allies from the coast, the Wóema were not long in renewing the attack; and the whole of the Ada?el tribes who rally under the standard of “the white house,” making common cause, the Muda?to sustained a murderous defeat, when their stronghold, which had maintained its integrity unimpaired for so many centuries, fell at last into the hands of their hereditary foe.

A long term of years elapsed, but the hearts of the scions of the “red house” still rankled under this disaster; and, bent upon retaliation, the assembled clans, designing to plunder the now decayed sea-port whence their Arab invaders had been furnished, made a rapid inroad into the country of the Eesah Somauli. Unprepared, the tribe fled before the host in dismay, but presently recovering from the panic created by the sudden burst of war, rallied in great numbers, fell furiously upon the foe, and left not one marauding Muda?to alive to tell the issue of the disastrous day. The “great battle,” as this signal rout is still termed, was about three years ago fought within sight of Zeyla, on the plains of Takoosha, now white with the skeletons of a tribe.

“Brave men are these Muda?to,” continued the old warrior, playing carelessly with the hilt of his creese, which was seldom suffered to repose quietly in his girdle; “but they are not to be compared with us. Hamdu-lillah, ‘Praise be unto the Lord,’ I slew their sheikh with my own hand; and here is the identical scratch that I received in the scuffle. As for the Eesah,” he concluded, “with their childish bows and arrows, they are sad cowards. One Dankáli spear is an over-match for fifty of their best marksmen in a fair fight; and I have myself dealt single-handed with six, although the villains came like thieves in the dark.”

Ibrahim Shehém was requested to reconcile this character with the issue of the great battle just recounted, wherein the despised tribe had so signalised itself. “That,” quoth he of Tajúra, “was a dastardly surprise; and Wullah, had I been the invader with a handful of Danákil spearmen, there would have been another tale to tell.”

Bas Ali, late sheikh of the cultivating portion of the Aussa population, some years since made an attempt to restore the exclusive rule to the Muda?to, and to this end headed a conspiracy sworn upon the Korán to plough the field no more until the head of the Wóema vicegerent should be exalted upon a pole at the city gate, and his body have been cast out to the hyaenas. He was however waylaid and assassinated by Ibrahim Shehém Abli, who received a wound in the cheek. The numerous scars which adorned the diminutive person of this hero proclaimed him to have made one in many an affray; and, if his own account might be believed, all were honourably gained. Nevertheless the singular aversion that he displayed to passing certain watering-places in brood daylight, and his skulking port at Amádoo more especially, had tended not a little to confirm the disparaging anecdotes maliciously narrated by his compatriots, relative to the mode in which some of these much-prized distinctions had been acquired.

The veteran Ali Arab had sat in gloomy silence during the early part of the conversation, but his light wicker cap started to the apex of his bald crown as he rose in wrath at the last vaunting words of the son of the Débeni. “Heed not the empty boast of that braggart,” he exclaimed, with boiling indignation, forgetting his wonted taciturnity—“Brave as the lion’s whelp are the hardy children of Yemen, and but for the cowardly desertion of their false allies there would have been a different issue to the fell night at Aussa. Do the Wóema to this hour not pay tribute to Zeyla in acknowledgment of the assistance rendered? The event was written in the sealed volume of Fate. The decree of the Almighty was fulfilled. But lest you should have believed the disparaging statements of this vain-glorious scorner, I will even recount the misfortunes of a campaign fraught with sad disaster to my kindred.”

Uttering these words, he led the way to his enclosure, reared of bales of the most costly wares which had been committed to his tried integrity; and there, seated upon the rich shawls of Cachemire, or upon the choicest manufactures of the British loom, the party, provided each with a tiny cup of most potent coffee, gave ear in silence to the old man’s tale, which in the two ensuing chapters shall be presented in the form that would appear best calculated to afford a picture of warfare in the Desert.