Volume Two—Chapter Thirty Eight.

Hospitality at Kokfári.

“May the guests of the Negoos come quickly!—all is prepared for their reception,” was the message received early the ensuing morning from the old governor, to whom our party stood specially consigned by the king, and who was, moreover, an acquaintance made in the late expedition, where he had appeared in capacity of “wobo,” or general commanding the rear guard. After ascending the steep face of the mountain, and gradually turning the shoulder of the range, we reached his residence, occupying the summit of a steep hill, well fortified with palisades and wicker-work. A deep grove of tall trees on the opposite eminence concealed the monastery of Kasaiyát, famous as the depository of the chronicles of Saint Eustathius, and beyond, a wild tract of forest land, intersected by serpentine rivers, stretched away to the blue hills of Efrata and Worra Káloo.

Approaching the residence of Ayto Tsánna, I caused a salute to be fired in his honour by our escort; and being forthwith ushered into his presence, we found the kind-hearted and hospitable veteran seated in the inner porch of his spacious house, where skins had been spread for our accommodation. Nothing could surpass the munificence of our reception. Bread, honey, butter, hydromel, beer, poultry, and eggs, were supplied in princely abundance, whilst oxen and sheep were slaughtered for the use of the followers, and corn and grass supplied to the numerous train of horses and mules. A spacious domicile was provided, in which, after a fire had been lighted to dislodge evil spirits, our repast was spread; and during the greater portion of the afternoon the liberal and intelligent host continued to witness the drill of the artillery escort, performed at his special request, and to converse with evident satisfaction on the manufactures of Europe, specimens of some of which he had most unwillingly accepted.

Messengers were in the mean time despatched to five subordinate governors, with orders to assemble their quotas on the morrow for the purpose of hunting. The tooltoola resounded through the neighbouring districts to summon young and old; and in imitation of the royal proclamations, the mandate went forth by the herald, “that all who should fail to repair to the wilderness on the day appointed would be held to have forfeited their property during seven years.” The son of the host, a tall handsome youth, wearing gay necklaces of beads and a streaming white feather in token of his achievements performed during the recent foray, had been specially charged with the entertainment of our followers; and the strength of the potent old hydromel, no less than the liberality with which it had been dispensed, were but too evident upon the majority ere the night fell. Loquacity increased with each additional gumbo that was drained, and loud and boisterous were the praises of the good cheer within the chieftain’s hall.

Amongst the visitors who flocked to behold the white strangers, was a monk from the adjacent monastery, who proved deeply versed in traditionary lore. It was diverting to listen to the arguments adduced by the holy father against the projected hostilities, and one anecdote considerably staggered the faith reposed by the governor in their success. “In ancient days,” quoth the recluse, “one of the most powerful monarchs of Ethiopia, whose name I have forgotten, made war against the elephants with his whole army. The king of the elephants being sore pressed, took unto himself a mouse to wife, and herein he displayed his wisdom and sagacity. The mice espousing the quarrel of their noble kin, entered the imperial storehouses in a countless body—devoured all the shields, harness, accoutrements, and leather, in a single night, and thus utterly defeated the project of the king of kings.”

The Amhára possess a most indifferent idea of woodcraft, and never venture to attack a wild beast unless on horseback, in bodies consisting of several hundred warriors, armed with every available weapon, when, according to the approved system of Abyssinian bullying, the animal is sometimes worried to death. But these expeditions are generally undertaken with little success, and seldom terminate without many fatal accidents. He who hurls the first successful spear is entitled to an honorary reward from the king, and to a triumph in the capital, which is attended with ceremonies and rejoicings similar to those that celebrate the return of the murderous foray against the heathen Galla. Owing to the excess of cultivation on the highlands, Shoa generally presents a peculiar deficiency of objects worthy of the chase; baboons and monkeys, it has been seen, are royal game; badgers are believed to be the “Devil’s flock,” and are therefore studiously shunned; and hyenas, although occasionally destroyed, are in many parts of the country suffered to multiply to an alarming extent, from the existing superstition that Jewish sorcerers descend from the mountains during the night, and transform themselves into the likeness of these animals, whence there could be no good result from their destruction.

Neither journey or hunting is ever undertaken without propitious omens, and should these be wanting, the Amhára will retrace his steps on any pretext, and patiently await the welcome sign. The sight of the unclean hare is sufficient to shake the stoutest nerves. An antelope bounding across the path augurs favourably to success in any undertaking. A fox barking on the left hand destroys all hope of a happy result, but on the right hand a prosperous issue may with confidence be anticipated. The appearance of a white buzzard prognosticates good or evil according to the position of the tail, and chief of all the numerous birds of ill omen is the “Goorameila.” (Lanius humeralis. Lath.) Death or the most dire disaster, is certain to follow his portentous croak; and there is no inhabitant throughout the realm who has not some tale to record in confirmation of the fatal character of this ominous shrike. That foolhardy wight who giveth no heed to the warning note of coming misfortune has never yet been known to escape. He is either balked in the object of his journey, pillaged, maltreated, or murdered. The omens must in this instance have proved favourable. Under the personal guidance of the host, whose hospitality increased rather than abated, we repaired, on the afternoon of the second day’s festivities, to Manya—a village occupying the high promontory of table-land immediately opposite to our former encampment at Zumbo. It overlooked the wide extent of wilderness which was to form the scene of operations on the morrow, but among which it was deemed unsafe to sojourn, as well on account of the wild beasts, as of the constant hostile inroads of the Galla and Ada?el. The route wound by a gradual descent over the Kokfári mountain, so named from the numerous red-legged partridges, the size of a guinea-fowl, with which the coverts swarm—thick copses of brushwood and heather, interlaced with dog-roses, eglantine, and bramble, affording the most alluring shelter in the vicinity of abundant grain and water.

Beneath the moss-grown branches of a silvery “woira,” which leaned its venerable form over the hill-side fronting the church dedicated to Emanuel, stood a miniature imitation of the sacred edifice, erected according to wont upon a pile of stones. Bread, grain, rags, and feathers, were industriously heaped upon this idol by every passer by, and the kiss was imprinted with fervent devotion upon the rough stem of the tree around which the old governor, dismounting from his mule, fastened a strip of cloth as a votive offering. On reaching our destination, which by certain of the followers who had sacrificed too liberally to the jolly god was accomplished with no ordinary difficulty, several muskets and matchlocks were discharged from the verge of the cliff, to give notice of our arrival to the Gillé and Soopa, two tributary clans, occupying the low country, who, in obedience to the summons of the preceding day, were already assembled on the confines of the hunting ground.

From the Rása hills, the residence of the formidable Anbássa Ali, whose domains bound the wilderness of Giddem, Mount Azulo did not appear to be more than one day’s journey; and the Háwash, which is said to flow round its base, could be distinctly traced in its course through the hot Adel plains, by the dark line of trees that fringe the banks. The mountain itself, although far beyond the dominions of Shoa, is renowned as the most sacred seat of monkery. Continually emitting volumes of dark smoke, its only inhabitants are Christian friars, who, despising the world and its vanities, retire thither, unmolested by Galla or Mohammadan, to spend their days in blissful peace and seclusion. Universally looked upon as sorcerers, they are believed to live on the most social terms with the lions and wild goats which share the retreat, and the tale assigns to the holy fathers an exclusive subsistence upon fruits, and herbs, and roots, which, together with a pair of wings, are freely furnished them from Heaven; but it is certain that none who have yet returned from the pilgrimage have brought back their feathered appendages,—whilst their lank figure and their sunken eye have betokened rather the toil of the weary wayfarer than the high enjoyment of Elysian feasts.