Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Nine.

Visit to the Karaiyo Galla.

As each evening closed, the appearance over the high range of Bulga was magnificent. Dark clouds, occasionally pierced by a bright ray of the sinking sun, drove in dense volumes across this mountain wall; and as they rolled on towards the lofty cone of Megásus, they revealed in their track the precipitous and rugged nature of bluffs which had before presented an unbroken surface. Rain not unfrequently fell during the night, and penetrating the flimsy cotton awnings as if they had been cullenders, rendered an umbrella necessary towards the protection of the damp pillow.

Resolved to view the mysterious Fantáli from the country of the Karaiyo Galla, whence might be determined the interesting question of its activity or quiescence, I planned an excursion with Captain Graham to the lake Muttahára, whose glassy bosom, surrounded by great belts of yellow grass, and stretching along the western base of the volcano, we had regarded with intense curiosity, as it sparkled under the beams of the setting sun. Absence of water on the road rendered it imperative that our party should be limited; and the insuperable aversion displayed by every follower to a second expedition to the low country caused little disappointment. Many had already suffered severely from inflammation of the eyes; and greater difficulty could hardly have been experienced in obtaining volunteers for the most desperate forlorn hope—the Aroosi beyond the Háwash, a tribe distinguished for surpassing ferocity, being declared the bitter enemy of every Christian and Mohammadan.

The governor had already proceeded in advance, to collect his vassals; and on the morning fixed for our departure a heavy white fog, such as is wont to envelope the capital of Shoa during three-quarters of the year, veiled the entire face of nature. The first five miles led across the richly-cultivated terrace of Berhut, amid numerous hamlets which gradually became visible as the mist ascended. Aingodiyé, on the top of the pass, together with the entire district of that denomination, pertains to the Lady Asagásh, who, decked in her holiday costume, politely sallied forth, with her train of household slaves and handmaidens, to greet the passing strangers.

This portly dame, whose appearance is truly indicative of her wealth, was the favourite concubine of the famous Medóko at the period of his assassination; and having been suffered by the despot to retain the extensive domains conferred upon her paramour during the days of his glory, a thrifty disposition has swelled her hoard of corn, oil, and beeves, beyond all bounds. In her retinue came a disconsolate couple chained together by the wrists—thieves no doubt—and said to be man and wife, whom the Wo?zoro facetiously declared it had been found requisite to link by bonds stronger than those of wedlock, in order to counteract a decided disinclination to the society of the husband, evinced by the inconstant spouse in three several elopements.

Descending by a steep pass through the district of Goorooréza—a perfect wilderness of rugged mountains—we crossed the river of that name near its junction with the Casam, and shortly afterwards the Casam itself, from which all the villages for many miles round derive their supply of water. Taking its source in the elevated plains of Germáma, this tributary of the Háwash escapes through the mountains by a deep defile, worn in the lapse of ages by the autumnal torrents, betwixt Mentshar and Bulga. Thence it winds on beneath perpendicular bluffs jutting out from the high table-land. Of these the principal is the frowning promontory of Gougou, which, like a natural fortress, abruptly terminates the Tudla Mariam plateau, extending to Angollála in one uninterrupted terrace, celebrated for the capsicums and fine cotton wool raised by its Christian population.

From the bed of the Casam the road wound up the Choba ravine, through a fissure formed near the point of junction by two gigantic blocks of granite, which confine the rugged defile to just sufficient width for the transit of a mule. The stupendous mass wore the appearance of having been hurled in remote ages from the summit of the impending cliff, the force of the concussion rending it in twain, and forming the key to a road, which by a handful of resolute men might be defended against the mightiest host. An ascent of one thousand feet over the Woleecha mountain, by a narrow path worn in the columnar trap, led to another elevated plateau, where, after the arrival of the governor, the staff was set up for the night at the Moslem village of Seeágur, eleven miles from Dummakoo.

The threshing-floor whereon our tent was erected, standing upon one of the many tongues of table-land that intersect the district of Wolágur, looked down a long lone valley bounded on the opposite side by the perpendicular wall of Boorkikee, upon the verge of which, surrounded by a milk-bush hedge, rose the secluded church of Saint George, the last Christian edifice of Mentshar. The sudden termination of the terrace, which abruptly drops into the country of the Galla, commanded an extensive prospect over the wilderness of Táboo, bounded by the distant blue hills of the Gámoo and Aroosi. Rising among the Sáma Galla, and overflowing the level land in the season of its height, the Táboo, like most of the secondary streams in this district, is dissipated by the fiery heat of the plains before reaching the Háwash.

Double the number of retainers, both horse and foot, to that which actually appeared on the morrow, had been summoned; but many preferred paying the fine incurred by absence, to accompanying their liege lord into jungles hitherto little trodden by the Christian. A respectable retinue was, however, in attendance; and we set out at an early hour for the lake Muttahára. A rugged winding descent, due south, led to the foot of the Wolágur range, whence an extensive tract stretches away to Fantáli, beautifully wooded, covered with flocks and herds, and disclosing in every direction the beehive cabins of the Karaiyo, a tribe equally rich in cattle and in pasture land.

It is now fifteen years since an Amhára expedition under the Dech Agafári overran this then independent district from the highlands of Mentshar. The inhabitants, flying for shelter to their thick hook-thorn coverts, sustained little loss in killed; but the whole of their wealth was swept away, and thirty thousand fat beeves were presented to the monarch on the plains of Angollála, as an earnest of successful foray. Since that period the Karaiyo have been nominally dependent on Shoa, paying an annual tribute of twenty oxen, and the left tooth of every elephant entrapped or found dead—a mild taxation, with which they are sufficiently content to abstain from revolt, although the hold over them is too slight to admit of farther impost—the principal advantage derived from their submission being the interposition of a barrier against the inroads upon the Amhára frontier of the savage Aroosi.

The Karaiyo territory, extending about forty miles in length by thirty in breadth, consists of a succession of open uncultivated plains, covered with luxuriant shade, and intersected by low ranges of grassy hills, dotted with spreading trees—altogether a highly enviable site for a small nomade tribe, although much scourged by the neighbouring Aroosi, and presenting the very theatre for a hasty inroad. Portions of the district often suffer much from drought; but a most opportune fall of rain the preceding night had completely deluged the country, and poured into every pool along the route a plentiful supply of muddy water.

Taking an easterly direction towards Fantáli, we passed numerous well-peopled hamlets, occupying all the secluded nooks, and as wealthy in flocks and herds as if the Amhára besom had never swept the land. From constant exposure to the heat and glare, and the habit of closing the eyelid to increase the power of vision, the swarthy features of even the youngest of the blinking inhabitants were deeply furrowed with premature wrinkles, which, with a turn-up nose, and the greasy unbecoming Galla costume, rendered those who had numbered many seasons, truly hideous.

In an easterly direction the course was bounded by the great isolated crater of Sáboo, yawning in the very centre of a well populated plain, and said to have been in full activity in the time of Sáhela Selássie’s grandsire, who reigned only thirty years ago; an assertion which was fully borne out by the recent appearance of the lava streams. The long-horned oryx, with great herds of antelope, grazed around every pool—the latter little disturbed by the presence of those who tended the flocks of sheep and goats, and whose groups of circular wigwams peeped forth in every sequestered corner.

An ancient crone of surpassing ugliness, attired in a leathern petticoat flounced with cowrie shells, was busily engaged by the way-side in transferring muddy water to her scrip, and looking up, was perfectly horrified at the appearance of a white face on the opposite border of the puddle. For a few seconds her old yellow teeth chattered audibly, and then, satisfied that there was no deception, she called loudly upon the goddess Atéti, threw herself back upon the ground, and became a prey to abject despair.

Resuming a southerly course from the foot of the crater, our path led at right angles over a tract where broken abysses, lava dykes, and brilliant belts of verdure, were jumbled together in strange confusion. At an early hour in the afternoon we reached Inkóftoo, the principal Karaiyo kraal in the district of Kadécha Dima. Standing beside an extensive pool, screened on all sides by luxuriant trees, it was strongly fortified by stiff thorn-branches against the inroads of the lion; formidable troops of which, roaming almost unmolested, commit great havoc among the cattle, and had only the night before carried off a youth belonging to the village.

It wanted still some miles of the spot in which Habti Mariam had resolved to encamp, near the borders of the Muttahára lake, whose placid surface, not less than two miles across, extended almost to the base of Fantáli. The chief of Inkóftoo had seen a rhinoceros in the morning, among the dense thicket of hook-thorns covering the declivity of a hill on the way; but although one of the governor’s braves, elevating his sheep-skin mantle upon the point of his lance, charged the assembled multitude in the king’s name to abstain from clamour and from interference with the arrangements made for beating up the quarters of the “ouráris,” the clattering hoofs of the advancing cavalcade presently put the animal to flight towards the Háwash. It were difficult to determine whether the fear of the Aroosi or of wild beasts now predominated in the minds of our Amhára escort. In spite of a heavy fall of rain, large watch-fires were kindled in various parts of the lone bivouac, and not a single eye was closed until the day had fairly dawned.