the second winter in shoa.

another dreary season of rain, and of mist, and of heavy fog, had now set in; the lance and the shield of the christian had been suspended in the dark windowless hall, and the war-steed ranged loose over the swampy meadow. during three long months the weather seldom permitted us to quit our damp miserable habitation at ankóber, but i found ample occupation in endeavouring to put into some kind of order the notes from which these three volumes have been prepared. my assistants were also busily engaged in the various departments which i had allotted to them, and in spite of the gloomy light afforded by oiled parchment, a highly valuable collection of maps, drawings, and reports, had been completed before any change was observable in the weather. within the memory of the oldest inhabitant, the floods had never continued longer nor wuth greater violence. morning after morning the heavy white clouds still clung above the saturated metropolis. every hollow footpath had been converted into a muddy stream, and each deep valley had become a morass, impassable to the equestrian; whilst the swollen háwash had inundated the lowlands for many miles on either side of its serpentine banks.

amongst the few events which occurred to disturb the monotony of our second winter in shoa, was the annual audience given, towards the close of july, by the king to the ada?el and hurrurhi, residing in the market town of alio amba. our old acquaintance, kalama work, having been detected in practising extensive peculation, had first undergone imprisonment in the madi beit, under the watchful eye of wolda hana, and was eventually stripped of his property, and turned forth upon the wide world a beggar. abd el yonag, the hurrur consul, who possessed in eminent perfection the arts of fawning and flattery, had, during the interregnum, turned to good account his insatiable taste for power and intrigue. he was formally nominated to the vacant government, and when we entered the raised balcony occupied by the king, the wily old slave-dealer, duly girded with the silver badge of office and authority, occupied the disgraced governor’s seat at the footstool of the throne.

armed with creese, and spear, and shield, the kilted band whirled howling into the courtyard, performing their savage war-dance. the precincts of the palace rung to their wild yells; and the vivid pantomime of throat-cutting and disembowelment was enacted to the life, in all its pleasing varieties. “moot! moot! moot!” shouted each prevailing warrior of note, shaking his sun-blanched locks, and ominously quivering his heavy lance, as he sprang in turn to the front, for the approval of the christian monarch. “is he dead? is he dead?” “burdhoo! burdhoo! you’ve slain him! you’ve slain him!” returned the turbaned pedlar, facetiously clapping his hands on behalf of his royal patron—“burdhoo! burdhoo!” and ere the hero of this gratifying applause had retired, another and another brave had commenced his vaunting exhibition in front of the sable ranks, or was in the act of ripping up the foe who in mock conflict had sprung like a tiger across his adversary’s loins, to grasp him as in a vice betwixt the muscles of his thighs. the court buffoon was meanwhile diligently plying his occupation, by capering through the ranks with his unsheathed reaping-hook, and chattering in ludicrous imitation of the moslem barbarians—his successful mimicry eliciting shouts of applause, notwithstanding that the reality, as enacted in the hot valleys below, had, on more occasions than one, been calculated to leave no very agreeable recollections in the mind of the amhára audience.

at the motion of the herald, the assembled warriors now squatted their meagre, wiry forms before the raised alcove, each resting upon his spear-staff, and peering over his shield, according to the undeviating custom of the bedouin savage. “are you all well? are you well? are you quite well?” repeated the dragoman who interpreted his majesty’s salutations.—“how have you passed your time? are your wives and all your children happy, and are your houses prosperous? have your flocks and your herds multiplied, and are your fields and your pastures covered with plenty?”—“humdu lillah! humdu lillah!” “praise be unto god!” was the unvarying reply.—“how are you, and how have you been? we are the friends of woosen suggud, your father, who ruled before you, and we will always deal with you as our fathers dealt with your fathers who are now dead. we are near neighbours. may allah keep our people and their children’s children at peace the one with the other!” cloths were now presented to the principal men, and oxen having been apportioned to their retainers, each rose in turn, and patted the extended hand of the monarch with his own palm; one atrocious old ruffian, who concluded the ceremony raising himself in his sandals and grasping the fingers of the king so firmly, that he had nearly succeeded in plucking him from his elevated throne.

his majesty, although obviously little pleased at the practical joke, had sufficient command of temper to take it in good part, but no doubt inwardly congratulated himself upon the happy termination of the wild levée. it had been fully illustrative of the tact and diplomatic sagacity employed in the maintenance of ascendency over the more intractable portion of his nominal subjects, and in the cultivation of amicable political relations with the neighbouring states. wulásma mohammad, as chief agent, sat in regal dignity on this important occasion, and his dragoman, a native of argobba, was the medium of communication. the throat of this man exhibited from ear to ear a conspicuous seam, pointed out by the by-standers as the work of his own hands. great, indeed, must have been the desperation which at the present day could impel such an attempt at self-destruction on the frontiers of shoa. one mile beyond, in any direction, would of a surety supply numbers of volunteers for the task, from amongst those whose throat-cutting proficiency had so creditably been displayed during the recent pantomime.

early in the month of august, the festival of felsáta brought a repetition of the customary skirmishes between the town’s people and the slave establishment of the king. for the edification of a numerous concourse of spectators, the miry lane leading to the church of “our lady” was attacked and defended with heavy clubs, shod with rings of iron; and after a severe conflict, the servile invaders were finally driven from the field, with blood streaming from numerous broken heads, which were brought to the residency to be repaired. during the fortnight’s fast that ensued in celebration of the assumption, the rough diversion was frequently repeated, and abstinence from food appeared to have soured the temper of the entire population. on the succeeding festival of the transfiguration, styled “debra tabor,” the capital was illuminated. whilst boys, carrying flambeaux, ran singing through the streets, every dwelling displayed such a light as its inmates could afford,—none, however, of the old cotton rags besmeared with impure bees’-wax shining very luminously through the thick drizzling mist.

one of the principal of the royal storehouses at channoo, on the frontier, was at this period struck by lightning, and totally burnt to the ground. the king as usual was keeping fast at machal-wans, and thither, according to custom, every nobleman and governor in the land flocked to offer condolence. many were the long faces on the road, for the greatest consternation pervaded all classes; and the fat wulásma in particular, on his way to break the dismal tidings to his despotic master, having the consequences of the late conflagration at wóti still fresh in his recollection, was observed to be in a state of extreme mental perturbation and anxiety.

“alas!” exclaimed the king, when, in accordance with etiquette, we contributed our mite of consolation—“alas! that magazine was built by my ancestor emmaha yasoos. it measured six hundred cubits in length, and ninety spans in breadth, and it was piled with salt to the very roof. there is no salt in my country. i feared a rupture with the ada?el who bring it from below, and i therefore stored up large quantities that my people might never want. now the lightning has taken all; but who can repine?—for it was the will of god.”