The March to Magdala

The stores in the commissariat-yard here continue to increase, thanks to the amount brought up by the native cattle. At present there is, I understand, about a month’s consumption for the troops here and in advance. The arrangements of the commissariat-yard are very good; as, indeed, most of the arrangements of that department have been throughout the expedition. At times this yard presents a most interesting spectacle. Here are large piles of rice- and flour-bags, and beside them the Parsees weighing out the rations to the numerous applicants. A little farther on is the butcher’s shop, where the meat-rations are cut up and distributed. Here is a large enclosure fenced round with bushes, and containing cattle purchased for the troops from the natives. Here are some hundreds of mules unloading stores which they have brought from below. Farther on are more being loaded with grass, to go down for the sustenance of the animals in the pass. Here, again, are hundreds of women and children laden with grass, which an officer of the commissariat is weighing and paying for; giving, however, the money to the men; who, the instant the women have brought in the grass, send them off, and exert themselves so far as to receive the money. Near these is the wood-yard, where a similar scene is being enacted. Back again by the store-yard are a host of native cattle, which are waiting to receive stores to take forward to Attegrat. The contract price for this is a dollar and a half per head; and I am glad to say that we can obtain as many cattle as we like for the purpose. Here we have men; the only employment, indeed, which the Abyssinian men will undertake is driving cattle, or rather following them, for they never attempt in any way to guide or influence their movements, but dawdle after them with their eternal spears and shields, knowing well that the sagacious little cattle will always follow the beaten track. Close by is a space marked off for a market. Here we have groups of men squatted about everywhere among their cattle, sheep, and goats: there are a good many donkeys too, and a few mules. For these latter they have raised the price very greatly during the last month: then a good mule could be bought for fifteen dollars, now they charge thirty-five and forty. They are very independent too, and refuse to abate a single dollar in the price they ask: if they do not obtain the exact sum they demand, they will, after a certain time, mount and ride off to their villages, to return again next day with the price probably enhanced two or three dollars over that demanded on the first occasion.

I must now close this, as I am on the point of starting for Attegrat. I shall endeavour to send a few lines in from Goun-Gonna, the next station; for as the next mail starts in four days, and I shall be getting farther away every march, a letter from Attegrat could not get in here in time for the post.

    Goun-Gonna, February 4th.

I feel quite glad to be again getting forward. Senafe has so long been my advanced post, that it seemed as if we were never going to get beyond that point. However, now I am once more en route, I hope that I shall have no further stop – beyond a few days at Attegrat, to see the meeting of the King of Tigre and the General – until I arrive at Antalo. Antalo will be about ten days’ march from here, and, once there, half the distance to Magdala will have been accomplished. My ride yesterday afternoon was one of the most pleasant I have had here. The temperature was delightful – a bright sun and a strong cool wind; the road, too, for some distance, across an undulating plain, descending sharply into a magnificent valley, was a charming change after the monotony of the long valleys, up and down which I have been riding for the last six weeks, and the wide expanse of the sandy plain of Zulla. After leaving Senafe the plain falls for some distance, and after about five miles’ ride we came down to the lowest point, where, in ordinary times, a small stream of water crosses the road, but which at present is perfectly dry, except where it has accumulated in large pools. By the side of one of these, about two miles to our left, we saw the camp of cavalry and sick animals. I may mention, by the way, that although the disease among the mules is much upon the decrease, and has altogether lost the virulence which at first characterised it, there are still, by the last weekly statement, two thousand six hundred animals, including camels, unfit for work, from one cause or other.

In this watered valley are immense herds of cattle. The plain is covered with a thick coarse grass, which has now been everywhere cut, either by the troops themselves for their horses, or by the natives for sale to us. Crossing the plain, we have a steep rise up the side of the hill, and then, surmounting the rise, we find ourselves at the head of a valley running nearly due south. This we descend; and from the number of villages perched on the eminences on either side, it is evident that water is generally found in this locality. It was probably, at some not very distant time, much more thickly populated than it is at present, for many of the villages are ruinous and deserted. This valley is very pretty, and, after the treeless plain of Senafe, is doubly agreeable, for the sides of the hills are everywhere clothed with the gigantic candelabra cactus. These are now just bursting into blossom. The blossoms grow from the extremity of each of the innumerable arms of the candelabra; and as their colour varies from white, through delicate shades of pink, to dark-red, the effect is very beautiful; indeed, with their regular growth, and perfect mass of blossom, they look as if they had just been transplanted from the grounds of the Messrs. Veitch to this country for some gigantic flower-show. There is a church in this valley, which is much venerated as being the scene of the martyrdom of some eight or ten Christians in the time of the persecution. My knowledge of Abyssinian history is, I confess, of too meagre a nature for me to give you an approximate date of this affair. Their bones are, however, still to be seen; and from this I should say that the event could not be very distant, as in a climate subject to great heat and heavy rains as this is, it is probable that bones would very speedily decay. The church is at some distance from the road, and is, like most of the churches here, upon a hill. I did not, therefore, turn aside to examine it, as I shall have plenty of opportunities of examining churches hereafter, and, with the exception of the martyrs’ bones, it presents no feature of peculiar interest. Descending the valley, we find it to be only a feeder of a wide valley running east and west. The valley was, like Goose Plain, covered with coarse grass, and contained immense herds of cattle. The side opposite to that by which we had entered it was very steep; the mountains are nearly bare, and near their summits present an appearance which, had I not seen it also upon the rock at Senafe, I should have said had been caused by a very slight fall of snow. I learn, however, that it is a very small lichen, which is abundant upon the rocks. I presume that this lichen is at present in flower or seed; for I did not observe the peculiar appearance at my first visit to Senafe, and it is so remarkable that I could not have failed to notice it had it existed at that time. We know now that we are near our destination, for we see the grass-cutters going along with great bundles of hay. We cross the valley and enter a smaller valley, which forks at a slight angle with the large one. As we fairly entered it, we saw near its extremity the camp of Goun-Gonna. A prettier situation could hardly have been selected. The hills to the right-hand are almost perpendicular, and upon a ledge about half-way up a village is nestled. The stream which flows down it has been used for the purpose of irrigation, and the bright green of the young crops was a delightful relief to our eyes. On the left-hand the hills are less precipitous, but are still very steep. The valley is less than a quarter of a mile in width, and ends abruptly with a semicircular sweep a short distance above the spot where the camp is pitched. What adds greatly to the beauty of the valley is, that it contains several of those immense trees with distorted trunks and bright-green foliage, whose real name is a moot point, but which are alike claimed to belong to the banyan, india-rubber, or tulip-tree species. At any rate, whatever be their species, they are one of the most picturesque species of tree I ever saw. They cover an immense extent of ground, and their trunks sometimes lie along the ground, sometimes rise in strange contorted forms. Their bark is extremely rough, and whitish-gray, and if seen without the foliage, would be certainly rather taken for strange blocks and pillars of stone than for the trunks of trees. In the camp we found a company of the 33d and the head-quarters of that regiment, who are upon their way to join the wing at Attegrat, and who had just come in, as had the mountain battery of steel guns under Colonel Milward, both having left Senafe two or three hours before ourselves. There was also a convoy of the Transport Train on their way to the front, and also a troop of the Scinde Horse. This station must be fifteen hundred feet below Senafe, and the difference of temperature is surprising. Last night I did not at all feel cold, whereas at Senafe it was next to impossible to keep warm, however numerous the wrappings in which one enveloped oneself. This morning I have been up a very pretty little broad valley, about a quarter of a mile in length. This branches off from the larger valley exactly opposite the camp, and it is down this that the little stream of water comes. The valley is clothed in shrubs and small trees, and the water falls into it over a perpendicular rock fifty feet high at its upper extremity. It put me very much in mind of a Westmoreland glen, with a little “force” at the extremity. Here, too, to increase the resemblance, I found some old friends whom I have not seen since I left England, namely dog-roses, common brambles, and honeysuckle. Down by the water’s edge, upon the rocks, kept moist by the water-spray, grew maiden-hair and other ferns. The air was sweet with arbutus-flowers, and the plash of the water was most grateful to the ear after the dry plains of Zulla and Senafe. Here, too, we had the aloe in flower, with its long heads of reddish-orange blossom. Here we had a sort of scabius ten feet high, and a rush or water-grass twenty feet in height, with its plumy reed. Here over the shrubs crept the familiar clematis, with its great clusters of white downy reed. Here was a sort of tares, with their pink blossom, and growing straight and strong to a height of four or five feet. Upon the trees were perched wood-pigeons and doves, which called to one another with their soft coo. Altogether it was a lovely little spot, and it was with the greatest reluctance that I left it to come back to camp to write this letter previous to starting for Fokado, the next station.

You will see that, although the mail only goes once a week, I am, as long as I am moving forwards, obliged to write every three days, as for every day I move further the mail takes another day to come down. It is, in addition, no easy matter to find time to write when upon the march. One rises at daybreak, which is little before seven, and, using the very greatest diligence, it is nearly two hours before the tent can be struck, and the mules loaded and upon their way. I generally give them a start of an hour, and then ride on, overtake them, and see that all is going on well. If so, I ride forward, and use some friend’s tent until my own arrives, which, if the distance is fourteen miles, will not be until nearly four in the afternoon; for my mules, with stoppages to readjust baggage, &c., do not make above two miles an hour. Then there is pitching the tent, drawing rations, and seeing the horses watered and fed; and by the time dinner is ready and our work done, it is past six o’clock. One generally puts one’s rations with those of friends; and by the time the meal is over, and the succeeding pipe and glass of arrack-and-water discussed, one is far more fit for bed than for sitting down to chronicle the events of the day. My next letter will be from Attegrat, where I expect to stay for a few days.

    Attegrat, February 7th.

I have been so long looking forward to arriving at Attegrat, that, being here, I feel that I have made a long stage into the interior of Abyssinia. I confess, however, that I am disappointed in Attegrat. It is foolish, I own. I ought by this time to have learnt the utter hollowness and emptiness of all statements connected with the country; and everything we have been told, everything we have been led to expect, has alike turned out utterly incorrect. Sometimes we have been told pleasant things, sometimes we have been threatened with dire calamities; but in both cases the vaticinations have turned out equally incorrect. Guinea-worms and tape-worms, fever and cholera, small-pox and dysentery, tetse-fly and sunstroke – all these have been distinguished by their absence: but as a counterbalance, so have Colonel Phayre’s green fields and gushing springs at Zulla, his perennial water between Sooro and Rayray Guddy, and his emporium of commerce at Senafe, which turned out a village of six mud-huts. Still, in spite of previous disappointments, I confess I clung to the idea that I should find a town of considerable size at Attegrat. The place was marked in Roman capitals upon the maps. It had been spoken of as a town flowing with milk and honey; it was to be one of our main halting-places; and altogether one certainly did expect to find rather more than twenty hovels, a barn called a church, and another ruinous barn which was once a palace. But before I describe Attegrat, let me detail my journey here from Goun-Gonna. I sent my baggage off at seven o’clock in the morning, at the same time that the baggage of the head-quarters of the 33d and Colonel Penn’s battery of mountain guns started. I then explored the pretty valley I described in my last, and afterwards went into a friend’s tent and finished my letter to you. At twelve o’clock I started for what I was told was an eleven miles’ ride; but it turned out the longest sixteen I have ever ridden. Every officer and man to whom I have spoken – and among others I may quote Colonel Milward and Colonel Penn of the Artillery, and Major Cooper, and all the officers of the 33d – agreed with me that it was over sixteen miles. Colonel Phayre’s and the quartermaster’s departments’ gross miscalculation of distances is becoming a very serious nuisance. It is absolutely cruel upon the men. If soldiers are told that they have a sixteen miles’ march across a rough country, and beneath a hot sun, they will do the distance. It may be hard work; but they know when they start what is before them, and they make up their minds to it. But when they are told it is eleven miles, at the end of that distance they begin to look out anxiously for their camping-place. They become cross and impatient, and are infinitely more fatigued than they would have been had they been told the real distance that was before them.

I now resume my account of my day’s march. For the first two miles the road mounted very steeply, until we were at least a thousand feet above Goun-Gonna, and had gained the great plateau out of which the valley is cut. It must have been a very difficult ascent before the road was made by the Sappers and Miners and Punjaub Pioneers. I do not know which parts of the road between Senafe and Attegrat are to be assigned to each regiment; but I believe that the road between Senafe and Goun-Gonna was executed principally by the 33d, assisted by the 10th Native Infantry, and that beyond this point it has been entirely the work of the Sappers and Miners and the Pioneers. The road from Goun-Gonna to Attegrat has not been continuously formed, as it is from Zulla to Goun-Gonna. It is only made in very difficult places, where it would have been next to impossible for a mule to have passed without its burden getting over its ears or tail. In other places we have the mere track worn by the people of the country; but where we ascend or descend gulleys or ravines, or where the road winds along on the face of a hill, when a false step would have involved a roll of a thousand feet down, there a fair road has been cut, which, although frequently steep, is always safe and passable. The road, take it as a whole, from Goun-Gonna to this place, is about as good as a bridle-road among the Welsh or Scotch hills. There are some extremely-steep places, where one mule falling down would stop a whole force, and where the loads shift terribly; but there are no places which cannot with care be surmounted, even by a baggage-train of mules. But this has been the easy portion of the journey. From this place to Antalo the difficulties will be vastly greater; beyond Antalo still greater again. It is for this reason that I look forward to a time when my knapsack will contain my whole luggage, and when sleeping in the open air will be the rule for everyone. Upon getting fairly up to the top of the hill-side from Goun-Gonna, a flat of apparently almost illimitable extent stretched away before us. Two or three of the curious conical hills which abound in this country rose at a considerable distance, and in the horizon were the peaks of the most fantastically-jagged range of mountains I ever saw. Nothing in the Alps will give any idea of the varied outline of this range of peaks. They are serrated and jagged in every conceivable form. Single peaks and double peaks, peaks like a cavalry saddle, and great square-topped blocks with perpendicular sides. The plain itself was dotted with low bushes, and covered everywhere with a luxuriant growth of grass, or rather hay, which reached up to the horses’ girths. The ground was strewn with loose stones, which, with the numerous small holes, made any progress beyond a walking-pace difficult and even dangerous. The stones, and indeed the whole formation of this upper plateau, are composed of a very white sandstone. In the pass up to Senafe the formation was entirely schist, broken and cracked-up in a wonderful manner, with numerous veins of quartz, and occasional walls of very hard volcanic stone traversing it. On the plain of Senafe, and throughout the whole country this side of it, we have a superincumbent bed of sandstone, which has evidently been exposed for a very long time to the action of water. The great rocks of Senafe are everywhere water-worn, and were islets, which rose above the level of a great sea, and resisted the action of the water, which has cleared away the sandstone around them to the general regular level of the plateau. Traversing the plain, we found that the seemingly almost boundless level was apparent rather than real, for the road constantly wound to avoid great valleys, which everywhere penetrated far into it. The sensation of coming suddenly upon a valley of 1000 or 1500 feet deep when apparently travelling upon a level plain was very singular. It quite upset all our preconceived notions of scenery. One found that the mountains to our left, which had appeared to rise a thousand feet or so above the plain, were really double that height from the bottom of the before-invisible valley which intervened between ourselves and them, and that the plain we were traversing was not a plain at all, but a succession of flat mountain-tops. Sometimes these valleys ran so far into the plateau that the road would have to diverge too much from the straight line to pass round their heads, and in these cases we descended some hundred feet and mounted up the other side. The view down some of these valleys was extremely fine, the mountains beyond frequently rising for miles in an unbroken perpendicular wall of two or three thousand feet. The finest view, however, was about two miles from our halting-place; and this, although I have seen much splendid scenery in my varied wanderings, was certainly the finest and most striking scene I ever beheld. Our path was winding along the face of a high mountain, along which our pioneers had cut a path some ten or twelve feet wide. We were perhaps a hundred feet above the general level of the plateau, but were passing round the head of a valley which lay some fifteen hundred feet below us. This valley was only a short branch of a broader valley which ran at right-angles to it, and beyond and in the middle of which a number of isolated hills rose up like islands; these were all flat-topped, and rose to the exact level of the general plateau. Some had sloping sides, others were perfectly perpendicular; and it required no stretch of the imagination to picture the time when a mighty river was sweeping down this great valley, and when these island-mountains breasted and divided its waters. To our right this valley was ten or twelve miles wide, and the numerous islands presented an extraordinary vista of precipice and slope. On the opposite side of the valley the plateau extended for a mile or two, and then rose into lofty rounded mountains; more to the left it stretched away for many miles, and the view was bounded by the extraordinary fantastic range of peaks of which I have already spoken. It was a most glorious view, and, broken by the lights and shadows thrown by a sinking sun, will always remain in my recollection as the most extraordinary and magnificent landscape I ever saw.

We arrived at Fokado at half-past four, getting in half an hour before our baggage, which had been eight hours and a half upon the road, and quite determined that in future, whatever labour it involved, we would not again let it out of our sight. The break-down of a baggage-animal, if one is at hand oneself to see that one’s servants instantly and properly reload it, is an affair of ten minutes at most; but if the servants are left to their own devices, it will occupy over half-an-hour. First of all there are ten minutes wasted in deploring the calamity, another ten in undoing the cords, and at least twenty more in repacking and getting under way. Fokado, like all our camping-stations, lies in a slight basin; this basin is, like the rest of the plateau-land, covered with long grass. A dozen men with scythes could cut enough in a day to supply a cavalry regiment; but they would have to be very careful to choose such portions of the plain as are not covered with stones. As it is, the grass-cutters are supplied with very small sickles, which do very well to hack off a bunch of grass, but which are of little use towards getting in any large quantity. Fortunately the natives cut and bring it in in considerable amount, and I am able to purchase an abundance from them; for no forage is issued by the commissariat for our baggage-animals, and it would be out of the question to expect our syces to go out and cut grass after a long and fatiguing day’s march. There is a well at Fokado from which plenty of cool and moderately-pure water is obtained. After having seen my tent erected and my rations drawn and on the fire, I walked on with two or three officers of the 33d to see the church. It stood, as most of the churches here do, upon slightly-rising ground, and was surrounded by a high wall, with the gateway entering beneath a sort of tower. Having paid my dollar – the modest tariff here demanded for admission – I entered the enclosure. It was in a state of the utmost disorder; loose boulders and stones were strewn everywhere, and I saw no signs whatever of graves. This was the case in the other three churches I have since visited, and is the more singular as the graveyards I saw and described coming up the pass, and which were those of the Mahometan tribes who inhabit that part of the country, were so carefully constructed and so religiously preserved. I have not seen a single grave since I entered the Christian part of Abyssinia. Near the church-door was a framework of three cross-poles, and from this were suspended, by straw ropes, two large stones of sonorous qualities. These were the church-bells. The church itself was a low edifice, built of rough stones, with large blocks forming the door-frame. Entering, I found myself in a low chamber, the roof being supported by four rough stone columns. The floor was littered down with rushes, and had exactly the appearance of a stable. On the wall was a rude half-length fresco of the Virgin, squinting terribly; and on the door leading to the next chamber was a skin or parchment with a somewhat similar painting. Having bowed deeply before each of these portraits at the request of the officiating priest, I was admitted into the next chamber, which was precisely similar to the first, but, having no windows, it only received such light as came in through the crevices of the doors. There was some demur as to my entering the next chamber, which indeed had been refused to all the officers who had been previously there; but I pointed to my white solar hat; and this and the fact of my not being in uniform convinced them, I believe, that I was a priest; for I should mention that the Abyssinian priests are distinguished by wearing white turbans, all the rest of the population going bare-headed. I was therefore admitted into the holy of holies. This was a more lofty chamber than the others, and was lighted by a window high up on the side wall. Across the room, at a distance of about a yard from the door, hung a screen about six feet high; this screen was made of roughly-embroidered canvas, and was apparently intended to prevent the eyes of the worshippers in the second chamber catching a glimpse of the penetralia when the door was opened. Looking round the end of this curtain, I saw an erection resembling a painter’s easel. A parchment or skin was stretched across the upper portion, and on this probably was a painting of some sort; but as it was wrapped up in a cloth, I was unable to examine it, as I was not allowed to go beyond the line of the screen. Returning, I noticed in one corner of the first chamber some long sticks, with a double bend at the top; that is, resembling in form a cross, with the top piece broken off. These are used in the service. Near them, in a niche in the wall, were some pieces of iron fastened together so as to make a jingling noise when shaken. These, no doubt, supply the place of the bell at the raising of the host. I have omitted to say that in the churchyard were two rough fonts; they were round blocks of stone, about two feet and a half high and eighteen inches in diameter; the hollow at the top for water was about eight inches deep. I have seen no fonts in the other churches I have entered.

The following morning I started for Attegrat, a march of about eleven miles. For some distance the road kept along the top of the plateau, which was here undulating, and the road in many places was very rough. At last we came to the brink of a valley, into the bottom of which we had to descend. How anything like a laden animal ever got down before the road was made it is next to impossible to imagine. We came along a beaten track to the top of the valley, and we could see the path again going straight along below us from the bottom; but there was no trace of any track or path down the tremendously-steep descent; and I suppose the little bullocks, which are as sure-footed as goats, and the donkeys, were allowed to pick their way down as they liked best. Fortunately, we were not reduced to this alternative, which would certainly have ended in three out of our four baggage-animals breaking their necks, even if the fourth – a sturdy little Massowah mule, with the zebra-marks upon his back and legs – had managed to get in safety to the bottom. A road has been cut along the face of the hill by the Sappers and Pioneers; and this road, although exceedingly steep in some places, is yet perfectly practicable. It is, however, only six feet wide, and in two or three places even less, and consequently a train of mules are a long time getting down; for if the load of one shifts and gets over his ears, all the rest must wait until it is readjusted-no easy matter upon a steep incline. If one fall from weakness or disease, there would be no resource but to roll him at once over the edge of the path into the valley below. Fortunately, none of these contingencies happened to us. The loads all got on to the animals’ necks, but our men and ourselves were able to keep them balanced there until we reached the foot of the hill, when all the loads had to be taken off and entirely repacked. Just at the foot of the incline was a village. During our journey across the plateau from Goun-Gonna to this point we had only passed Fokado and one other village. We saw many down in the deep valleys around whose heads we had skirted, but upon the flat level of the plateau we did not see a single habitation. There were numerous herds of cattle, but these probably come up to graze upon the thick grass during the day, and descend into the valleys for water at night. We also passed some curious piles of stones upon the plateau-land, which I omitted to mention in my description of that part of my journey. These piles were thirty or forty feet in diameter, and five or six feet high; they were of stones roughly thrown together, and had I met with them in England I should have supposed that they had been merely cleared off the fields; but here there were no signs of cultivation, and the stones were too thickly strewn everywhere to render it probable that any Abyssinian cultivator would have undertaken the labour of clearing piles of stones of this size off his land – a work which, without wheeled vehicles, would be very great. These heaps always occurred near the track, and were generally surrounded by bushes. I passed at least twenty of them. It is possible that these cairns may be burying-places; but the deserted position, the fact that they were far from villages, and the labour which they must have taken to make, all seem to negative this supposition. Besides which, there was hardly the regularity about their shape which one meets with in the burying-cairns of even the most savage nations. I confess that they are to me a perfect mystery. In the village at the foot of the descent was a church which was exactly similar to the one at Fokado. It had no fonts that I could observe, but boasted of a gong in addition to the sonorous stones for summoning the faithful to prayers. In the enclosure, lying among the stones, was a large volcanic bomb, the first of the sort I have seen in the country; it had apparently been brought there as something strange, and perhaps supernatural, and had therefore been put on holy ground; for the enclosure within the walls is holy in Abyssinian eyes, and we are always required to take off our hats on entering the outside gates.

From this village to Attegrat the road keeps in the bottom of a broad valley, the great part of which is ploughed up and ready for the seed, which is, I suppose, sown before the June rains. The soil is light and good, in many places a rich light loam, which would delight an English gardener’s heart. The ploughs are drawn by oxen, and are exactly similar to those I have seen in parts of Italy, except that the share of this is broader and does certainly more work. Indeed, it is by no means badly adapted for shallow ploughing on a light ground. A ride of about five miles down the valley brought us to a slight rise in the ground, and on surmounting this, Attegrat lay before us. My first impression was that of disappointment, for, with the exception of its containing two or three larger buildings, it differed in nothing from the other villages we have seen. The valley, at the point where Attegrat lies, is about two miles wide, and the twenty or thirty flat-roofed huts, which, with the church and a ruined palace, constitute the city, stand on rising ground nearly in its centre. On the left of this valley, near the slope, is the British camp. Behind it the ground rises gradually, affording camping-ground, if necessary, for a considerable force. Indeed, with the exception of some ploughed fields round the town, the whole valley is well suited for a camp. The force at present here are the five companies of the 33d regiment, whose camp, with that of Penn’s mountain battery of steel guns and the Royal Engineers, is the first we arrive at. Next to the 33d lines are the commissariat stores. A few hundred yards farther down in the valley is the camp of the six companies of the 10th Native Infantry. Their tents, like those of the European troops, are upon the slope. Beyond them this slope becomes much steeper, and accordingly the 3d Native Cavalry are camped in the bottom. Next to them come the Mule Train. The divisions here are the Lahore Mule Train and the A Division under Captain Griffiths. It was this division which first landed, and brought up the pioneer force. It has been ever since in the front, and is now in admirable condition. The Egyptian, Arab, Italian, and, in fact, all the drivers, except only the Hindoostanee drivers, have been during the last few days sent down to the coast to be returned to their own countries, and their places have been filled with the Hindoo dhoolie bearers, and others whose services will be no longer required, now that the regiments have all to march without followers. It need hardly be said that this will very greatly improve the efficiency of the division, for the Hindoo, if he has less strength than the Arab, Egyptian, or Persian, is yet amenable to discipline, and will, to the best of his power, carry out the orders he receives; whereas the other men were utterly reckless and disobedient, and could not be trusted out of reach of the eye of their officers. The camp of the Scinde Horse is still farther down the valley, beyond the transport lines. Sir Robert Napier arrived yesterday afternoon. His camp had been pitched for him on some slightly-rising ground in front of the 33d lines, and distant three or four hundred yards. To-day, however, the tents are being struck, and will be pitched in a line with the 33d tents, and forming a connection between them and the artillery. His tent, therefore, is in the exact centre of the European line, with the artillery on his right, the 33d on his left flank.

I now proceed to describe Attegrat. The most conspicuous building, as seen from our camp, is a detached sort of fortress, which looks like nothing so much as the castle of Bluebeard in a pantomime. It stands on a rising knoll, and consists of a square building of two stories high. Upon the top, and greatly overhanging each side, are four extraordinary-looking erections, like great dog-kennels or pigeon-cots, but which must be six or seven feet square. Almost the whole of these constructions project over the walls. What may be the use of these curious appendages to the tower, it is impossible to say. Next to this square tower stands a building as incongruous with it in its construction as it is possible to conceive. It is round, and has a high thatched roof, like a beehive. In addition to these main structures are several low sheds. The whole are enclosed in a high wall with a tower in it, underneath which is the gateway. The buildings are, no doubt, of stone, but they are all plastered over with mud, and look as if made of that material. As I have said, it is exactly one’s idea of Bluebeard’s castle, and one expects to see sister Anne waving her handkerchief out of one of the pigeon-cots at its summit. Certainly, if the gate were to open, and a stout figure in an immense pasteboard head, with a blue beard trailing upon the ground, and surrounded by a host of retainers also with big heads – which their chief would, of course, belabour occasionally with his staff – were to issue out, it would be in such admirable keeping with the place, that one would feel no astonishment. And yet this fortress has its history, and has stood its siege. It seems that the king or chief of this part of the country used seldom to live in his palace in the town itself, and his brother had his abode there. The brother took too much upon himself, and the jealousy and ire of the chief were aroused, and he ordered his brother to move out of the palace. This he did, but constructed at half-a-mile from the town this formidable castle. A disagreement arose, and the king attacked the castle, which he took after twenty hours’ siege. The castle is at present inhabited by the wife of a chief – I cannot say whether it is the same chief, for dates in Abyssinia are somewhat confused – who is a prisoner of Gobayze, King of Lasta. She has, I hear, taken a vow never to go out of doors while her husband is in captivity. Passing Bluebeard’s castle, it is a good half-mile to the town. At the right-hand on a rising rock is the church, which at a distance exactly resembles a Swiss châlet. It is, of course, surrounded by its wall, and within the enclosure grow some of the gigantic candelabra cactus. The church itself is more lofty than any I have yet seen. It is square, and is covered with a high thatched roof, the eaves of which project all round a considerable distance, and are supported by poles. Upon paying the usual fee, I was admitted in the enclosure, and saw at once that this church was of far greater pretensions than any I had yet seen. The entrance was by a doorway of squared beams, with two arches, each cut out of one piece, and each ornamented with five rolls of wood underneath. Entering this, we were in a sort of lobby or hall. The walls of this were covered with frescoes representing the feats of the founder of the church, who was either the father or grandfather of the present chief. Here that redoubted warrior is represented spearing an elephant; again he is kneeling and taking aim at a lion, whose claws are of truly-formidable dimensions. Here there are two or three battle-scenes, in which he is defeating his enemies with immense slaughter. To judge by his portraits, the founder of the church was a fair, round-faced man, with short hair and a slight moustache. I passed from this vestibule into the church itself. Its construction differs entirely from the others I have seen, inasmuch as instead of the sacred chamber being placed beyond two others, it was in the centre of the building, and was surrounded by a passage, the walls of which were covered with frescoes representing events in Old and New Testament writing, and in the lives of the saints. Here we have St. George nobly spearing the dragon, while the King of Egypt’s daughter and her maidens stand by with clasped hands and admiring eyes. Here we have St. Peter suffering martyrdom by being crucified head downwards; with a vast number of other martyrdoms. The biblical events all strictly follow the scriptural description; the only remarkable difference being that at the Last Supper thirteen apostles are represented as being present. In all these, as in the first frescoes, the faces of the actors are represented as white; while in the Temptation the tempter has his traditional sable hue. These frescoes are all in the early Byzantine style, and were they but really ancient, would be extremely curious and valuable; but as the church is not, at most, more than sixty or seventy years old, it is evident that they are the work of some Egyptian or Greek artist brought down for the purpose. I was not allowed to see what was in the central chamber. Leaving the church, I crossed the town, sixty or seventy yards, to where, at its other extremity, stands the ruined palace. It is surrounded by a wall, which encloses a considerable extent of ground. The principal portion of the palace far more resembles a church than do any of the actual churches of the country. It consists of a hall fifty feet long by twenty-five feet wide, with a small round room at the end opposite to the door. The entrance is underneath a porch; and along this, at about eight feet from the ground, there are built into it a line of bullocks’ horns, with their points projecting outwards. The hall was thirty feet high to the springing of the roof, and must have been really a fine hall, country and place being taken into consideration. The greater part of one side-wall has, however, fallen; and the roof is entirely gone. Some of the great beams which crossed it lie on the ground, and it would be a matter of considerable interest to inquire whence, in a treeless country like this, these massive beams were obtained. The most interesting portion of the ruin is the room beyond the great hall, and which was probably the king’s own room. It is entered by a double-arched door, of workmanship and design similar to that I have described at the church; the two buildings being coeval, and the woodwork unquestionably worked by some foreign artificer brought here for the purpose. The chamber itself is about fifteen feet across, with three deep recesses, each lighted by a small double-arched window of the same pattern as the door. The room was about twelve feet high, and was ceiled by a circular arched roof, which still remains. It is made of reeds or rushes sewn side by side, like the basketwork of the country, and dyed with a pattern in reel and blue. This was all worth describing in the palace; there were several other buildings attached to it, but none worthy of any special notice.

About a mile beyond Attegrat, upon the other side of the valley, there is another church, whose site might well have been selected by the monks of old for a monastery, so charming is the grove in which it is situated. This grove is of considerable extent, and consists of several sorts of really lofty trees: there is a thick undergrowth – with plenty of paths for walking, however – of all sorts of plants. There are some tall bananas with their broad, graceful leaves, the first I have seen since I left Bombay. There are roses and honeysuckles, wild figs and acacias; over all of which a thick cordage of various creepers twines in clusters. To add to the enjoyment, the whole air is heavy with the fragrance of the wild jasmine, which grows in great bushes, covered with clusters of its white star-like flowers. While sitting down with a party of three or four officers of the 33d enjoying the delightful shade and the charming fragrance, the priest with several natives came up to us, and taking seats, or rather squatting – I do not think an Abyssinian knows how to sit down – beside us, they entered into a species of conversation with us, inquiring particularly, as do all the natives, if we were Christians. Presently they made signs they would like to see some sketches I had been taking; but when they took them in their hands they were completely puzzled, turned them upside down and sideways, and even looked behind at the back of the paper: they could evidently make nothing of them. Presently the priest, with an air of great self-satisfaction, made signs that he could write, and demanded if I could do so. I had no writing at hand, but in my sketch-book I had a column of your paper which I had cut out for purposes of reference; this I gravely handed over, and it was received with a perfect shout, first of astonishment, then of delight. They had never seen such even and perfect manuscript in their lives. The priest evidently thought I must be a priest of high grade, and he at once offered to show us the church, which he did without demanding the usual dollar from any one of the party. It was so similar to those I have previously described that I need not say anything about it, except that in the holy of holies, in place of a frame like a painter’s easel, the shrine was composed of three poles, seven or eight feet long, inclining towards each other, and meeting at the top like a tripod: a piece of cloth was wrapped round the upper part of this frame. I cannot say whether it concealed anything, but it did not appear to me to do so. Below this a skin was stretched between the three legs, so as to make a sort of shelf, and upon this were placed a number of withered flowers. I should mention that, in the inner chamber of most of these churches, those who have entered with me have agreed that there was a faint but distinct odour of incense. It may be, however, that in all of them might have been some flowers, such as jasmine, the perfumes of which may have deceived us. It is rather singular that the grape has not been introduced into a country which would seem by its climate to be well suited for it. There is no wine to be obtained here; and the sacrament is administered by squeezing a raisin into a chalice of water. Raisins are, however, very scarce; and in some churches years have elapsed without the administration of the sacrament, owing entirely to the absence of even a single raisin.

In my description of Attegrat I have omitted to say, that although the town itself does not contain more than twenty or thirty houses, yet the population within a short distance is very large; for on the hill-side, behind the church I have just been describing, there are numerous villages, which are probably known in the local tongue as lower and upper Attegrat, new and old, eastern and western Attegrat. Attegrat, at any rate, is their centre; and judging by the number of natives one sees in and about the camp, and the number of houses in the various villages, there must be a population of six or eight thousand clustered in a circle of three or four miles from the town.

I have now described the general features of the place, and shall close and send off this letter, although it is only four days since I posted my last, and the next mail is not advertised to start for another eight days. I shall write again for that post; but my experience has taught me that the mail here is one of those charming uncertainties upon which it is impossible to calculate. Besides this, I may at any moment find myself compelled to push on; and, in that case, there would be no saying when my next letter would reach you. I hope, however, to be enabled to give you a full description of the visit of the King of Tigre, who is expected to-morrow or next day.

    Attegrat, February 13th.

Our grand Christmas farcio-pantomime, entitled “Harlequin and the Magic Durbar; or the Ambassador, the Archbishop, and the Barbarian Cortege,” has been played to an immensely amused and numerous audience. The title had been advertised as “The King, the Archbishop, &c.;” but, owing to the unavoidable absence of the principal actor, the Ambassador was at the last moment substituted for the King. The opening scene may be described as “The camp of the Knight Errant, Sir Robert Napier, with Bluebeard’s Castle in the middle distance, and the town of Attegrat and the mountains in the background.” Flourish of trumpets! A herald arrives, the part being enacted by Major Grant, who states that the King is unable to come in person to wait upon the valiant Knight, but that he had sent his dear brother, the Grand Vizier, together with his Archbishop, to assure the Knight of his friendship. Bustle and excitement in the camp. A pause. Sound of strange and barbaric music in the distance. This gradually approaches, and then, from the rear of Bluebeard’s Castle – of which a full description was given in my last – enter the head of procession, consisting of – three men blowing upon cow-horns. These were inserted into the ends of long sticks, and in appearance were very like the long horns used by heralds of old. Their sound is lugubrious in the extreme. Next follows a man of tall stature, beating violently upon a tom-tom. Next follow the musqueteers of the body-guard; dress – dirty clothes miscellaneously draped; bare heads frizzled and oiled; arms – any stage-properties which might come conveniently to hand; old Portuguese match-locks, and new fowling-pieces from Liège; double-barrelled guns, and guns with one long and frequently crooked barrel, the large proportion quite incapable of being fired. Next follows the Ambassador of the King on a mule, with gorgeous caparisons of stamped green and red leather, bearing the tiger rampant, the arms of the great potentate his master. The Ambassador is clothed like his body-guard, in whity-brown cloth of coarse cotton, with red ends. With this, as a sign of his dignity, he envelopes not only his body, but his mouth and chin, as do the chiefs behind him. He wears round his neck a fur collar with long tails. The Ambassador of the great King is bareheaded. His hair is arranged, as is the manner of the chiefs of his people, in a series of little plaits, which run in parallel lines from his forehead over the head to the nape of the neck. This style appears to be copied from the Assyrian bas-relievos in the British Museum. Next to the Ambassador of the great King rides the Archbishop, upon a mule similarly caparisoned. The Archbishop is clothed in absolutely white robes, with turban to match. These dignitaries have both stirrups to their saddles, in which the great-toes only are placed, to, I should say, the imminent danger of those members if the mule should stumble. Behind these great personages ride the inferior chiefs. These, either from a feeling of modesty, or from a lack of animals, ride two upon each mule. Behind follow the spearmen of the guard on foot. These are about thirty in number, and are armed with lance, sickle, and shield. When this procession has fairly wound round the corner of Bluebeard’s Castle, it halts to await the arrival of a herald from the good Knight. All this time the barbaric music continues to sound, and is answered by sister Anne and Fatimah in the castle, and by the women all over the country, by a prolonged cry on a single note, kept up with a quavering modulation for a considerable time. This is a welcome on the part of the people of the country to the ambassador of the great King. While the procession halts, the soldiers of the Knight Errant flock out to inspect them. Irregular chorus of soldiers: “My eye, Bill, if these are the sort of chaps we’ve come to fight, we sha’n’t have much trouble with them.” The remainder of the pantomime I will, for brevity’s sake, describe as if it had been a real event in the expedition; but the reader must bear in mind that the whole piece, its accessories and appointments, were infinitely funny and amusing. After conferring with the Commander-in-chief, Major Grant and Mr. Speedy went out to meet the procession, and conducted them through the camp to the tent of General Merewether. During their progress the wild music continued to sound, and nearly effected a stampede of the whole of the animals in camp. In the mean time three companies of the 33d regiment, two of the 10th N.I., with the bands of both regiments, were drawn up in line in front of and facing Sir Robert Napier’s tent, an interval of about fifty yards being left. On the flanks of the line two squadrons of the 3d N. Cavalry and of the Scinde Horse were drawn up. When all was ready, the cortége advanced, horns blowing and tom-toms beating. At their head strode Mr. Speedy, who is nearly six feet six inches tall, and who carried in his hand a sword nearly as tall as himself. As the procession approached, the military bands struck up and the troops saluted. The din at this moment was astounding. The bands played different tunes, and the cow-horns and tom-toms played no tune at all. Mr. Speedy with some trouble marshalled his ragged irregulars in line, and, this accomplished, led the two ambassadors to the chief’s tent. The tent was one of the long narrow tents called native routies, and, being lined with scarlet, made a very good tent for the reception. Sir Robert Napier was seated with his helmet on at one end. The ambassadors were introduced by Mr. Speedy, who acted as interpreter, and after bowing very deeply, they shook hands with the chief. They then took seats upon the ground beside him; as many officers as could find room without crowding ranged themselves along the sides of the tent, and also took their places behind Sir Robert Napier, the back of the tent being open as well as the front. The conversation commenced by one of the ambassadors stating “that the King of Tigre, his brother, had sent him to assure the British Commander-in-chief of his friendship. The King would have come in person to welcome Sir Robert, but he had been just solemnly proclaimed king, and it was strict etiquette that he should not leave his capital for thirty days afterwards.”

Sir Robert Napier replied that he was very glad to receive the assurance of the King’s friendship; that we ourselves had come with the most friendly intentions to all in Abyssinia, with the exception only of those who held our countrymen captives; that in our progress we should violently interfere with no one; and that, our enterprise over, we should return at once to our own country. The Ambassador said “that the King and everyone in the country wished well to our cause; for that Theodore was a tyrant who had ravaged the whole country, and had murdered thousands of people, including his own near relations. Therefore, he hoped, that we should punish him for his wickedness.” He then said “that the King was very anxious to see Sir Robert, and would be very glad if he would let him know how long he was likely to remain at Attegrat.” The General answered “that he could not say when he should leave; that his preparations were not yet completed; but that when he was able to fix a day for his departure he would, if the King wished, send a message to let the King know; but that he feared he could not give sufficient notice for the King to arrive in time.” The Ambassador then made a statement which showed that his last question was not bonâ fide, and that the King had really no intention of coming at all. He said “that the King had a large army – that as long as he was with them they behaved well, but that he could not leave them, for if he did so they would spread over the country and oppress the peasantry.” The Chief replied that, “under these circumstances he could quite understand the King’s reluctance to leave his army, but that he hoped on his return from Magdala he should have the pleasure of meeting his Majesty.” There was then a pause in the conversation, and the Ambassador begged to know when he might be allowed to leave. Sir Robert answered that early in the morning he would show him our soldiers, and after that he could leave whenever he chose. A few trifling articles were then presented to the Ambassador and Archbishop as tokens of friendship, and after again bowing and shaking hands with Sir Robert Napier, they took their leave, and, surrounded by their guards, moved off amid the din of music which had greeted their arrival. The next morning at seven o’clock the whole of the troops turned out to a general parade. The Ambassadors were present. After riding along the whole line, the General and staff took up their position in front, and the 33d regiment were put through the bayonet exercise, which they performed exceedingly well, especially when it is considered that it is nearly four months since they last did it. They then went through the platoon drill; but the natives did not at all comprehend this. They heard the snapping of the locks as the Sniders were supposed to be fired in rapid volleys. When informed what was being done, they entirely disbelieved it, and plainly said so, stating that no guns could be fired so quickly as that. It is a very great pity that a small number of cartridges were not broken up and served out as blank cartridges; or better still, had a hundred ball cartridges been served out to ten men, to have been discharged as rapidly as possible against a rock on the hill-side. Weight is of course precious, but the lesson those hundred cartridges would have taught would have been cheaply purchased at any cost. It was emphatically a penny-wise-and-pound-foolish economy. Colonel Penn’s batteries of steel guns were then examined, and these fired a few rounds with blank cartridges.

Our savage visitors, however, were more impressed with the artillery than they had been with the infantry. The guns, they said, were small, and did not make much noise; the infantry were pretty to look at, but of no use in a hilly country, and their long lines would be very easy to shoot at. These criticisms are very amusing on the part of the ragged savages, of whom I heard an Irish soldier of the 33d say, “And bedad it’s ashamed I’d be to have to fire me rifle at such a miserable set of divils intirely. It ’ud be like killing a definceless brute baste.” The general feeling in the camp, indeed, upon the subject was that of disappointment. It was exactly the reverse of “the stern joy that warriors feel in foe-men worthy of their steel.” We did hope that if we were to fight it would be against something in some way or another formidable. We had heard a good deal about Theodore’s army, who were said to be armed with guns and were drilled, and we did have a faint hope that our foe would not be utterly contemptible. But the first appearance of Abyssinian soldiery has quite dispelled any such idea. Mr. Speedy and our interpreters assure us that they are a fair sample of Abyssinian troops. Why, Falstaff’s ragged regiment was a disciplined and regular body to this band of savages. As for their guns, I should say by their appearance that at least two-thirds would burst at the very first volley fired, and would be infinitely more dangerous to themselves than to anyone else.

If, however, our visitors thought very little of the infantry and artillery, they were greatly impressed by the cavalry. The Scinde Horse and 3d Native Cavalry made several charges, and these, they acknowledged, would upon level ground be irresistible. The horses themselves also struck them particularly. In Abyssinia there is nothing which could by the utmost stretch of courtesy be called a horse. They have nothing but little rawboned ponies, together with mules and donkeys. The cavalry animals, and those of the staff, therefore, strike them as being prodigies of strength and beauty. It is satisfactory to know that one arm of the service at least found favour in the sight of our military critics, who, however, qualified even that meed of approbation by adding that it was not likely that Theodore would fight us upon ground where the cavalry could charge at all. Our show, therefore, as a show, was completely thrown away, and they saw nothing of the one thing which would have impressed them – namely, an exhibition of the powers of the Snider rifle.

The next day the embassy took its departure with its barbaric music playing, and the strange quavering cries of the women answering it over the country. There is still a possibility that the King of Tigre may himself come to meet the Commander-in-chief either at Antalo or at some place on our march thither. I hardly think, however, that he will do so. These native kings are generally so faithless and treacherous among themselves that they do not like to trust their persons into anyone else’s hands. Still, as the Ambassador was allowed to take his departure unharmed, it is quite upon the cards that the King will muster up courage and come in.

The following is a summary of the news from the front, as communicated to us by General Napier’s orders:

“Letters were received on the 9th instant by General Merewether from Mr. Rassam and Dr. Blanc, dated Magdala, Jan. 17th, with enclosures from Mr. and Mrs. Flad, dated King’s Camp, Jan 9th. All the prisoners are reported well up to date. A detachment of troops, which had left Magdala on Jan. 8th, had joined the King in his camp, and had received charge of a party of about 400 prisoners to escort from the camp to Magdala. The imprisoned Europeans were among the number. Their leg-fetters had been removed and handcuffs substituted, so that they might march. It is said Mr. Rosenthal would accompany them. The King was using every endeavour to get the road made, working with his own hands, and making the free Europeans help. He had made some slight progress, and had arrived at the bottom of the valley of the Djedda River. Mr. Rassam calculates he would reach Magdala about the end of February with his camp, though by abandoning the latter he could any day arrive there. The people of Dalanta continue submissive; but those of Davout had rebelled again. His soldiers had suffered from the scarcity of provisions and transport. It was reported at Magdala that Menilek, the King of Shoa, had again set out for Magdala, better prepared to act against Theodorus than on his former visit. A detailed communication from one of the captives, sent to his friends in England, and there published, has by some means reached the King’s camp, and is in the hands of M. Bardel. Apprehensions are entertained that it may do injury there.”

These letters add but little to what we knew before. Our last advice told us that Theodore was only distant a single day’s march from Magdala, – which, by the way, is spelt Magdalla throughout the summary, but which is pronounced Māgdālā, the a being always long in Amharic, – and that he could at any moment ride in and fetch the captives confined in that fortress, or could send those with him to Magdala under a guard. He has chosen, it appears, the latter alternative. The captives have at least the melancholy satisfaction of being together. That the news of our coming has in no way influenced the tyrant’s treatment of them is shown by the fact, that although their leg-chains have been removed to enable them to march, yet handcuffs have been substituted in their stead.

From rumours among the natives, we hear that his cruelties are more atrocious than ever. Women are being put to death by being thrown down wells, at the bottom of which spears are fixed point upwards. Men are executed by having their feet first chopped off, then their hands, then their legs at the knees, and then being left as food for wild-beasts. I do not vouch for the truth of these stories; but they have been brought by deserters from Theodore’s camp, and are generally believed. I do sincerely trust that in no case shall we make a treaty with this demon which may save him from the punishment due to him.

The great question here is, first, whether Theodore will fight; and secondly, what we shall do if, when we arrive, he offers to deliver the prisoners to us as the price of our instant departure. As to the first point I can only repeat what I have before said, namely, that I am of opinion that he will fight, and I think fight at Magdala. The enormous trouble he is taking in conveying cannon with him to Magdala points conclusively to that result. If he only wished to carry his baggage and treasure into Magdala he might easily, with the force at his command, construct a mule-path in a few days at the latest; but he clings to his guns, and he can only require them so imperiously that he puts up with months of hardship for their sake that he may defend Magdala against us. These savages measure the offensive powers of a gun entirely by its size, and by the noise it makes. Thus Tigre’s ambassador regarded our mountain train as mere pop-guns; and no doubt Theodore believes that with the great guns his European workmen have cast, and with the natural strength of the fortress, he can easily resist the attacks of the English. I believe that we shall find the King at Magdala, get there when we will; and that as he will offer no terms that we can accept, and as he will not assent to the demand for unconditional surrender which we are certain to make, we shall finally have to take the place by storm. The next question, as to what our course will be if he offers to deliver up the captives upon the condition of our instant retreat, is one which it is very difficult to predicate upon. No doubt Sir Robert Napier has instructions from home for his guidance under such a contingency; but I cannot bring myself to believe that these terms would be acceded to.

And now as to gossip about this place. The Abyssinians are celebrated by travellers in their country as being an intelligent people. Intelligent is by no means the word, nor is sharp nor cute; they are simply the most extortionate thieves that the sun’s light ever shone on. Formerly the necessaries of life were extraordinarily cheap here. Mercher, the Tigre chief who acts as interpreter, tells me that, as an example, fowls could be purchased at forty for a dollar. I venture to say that, at the present moment, it is the dearest place in the habitable globe. I have seen three eggs offered for a dollar. This was, however, too much to be stood, and at present seven is the tariff; that is, as nearly as possible, eightpence apiece for very little eggs. An ordinary-sized fowl costs a dollar; and with great bargaining two very small and skinny ones can be obtained for that sum. Two pumpkins can be bought for a dollar: for a quart of milk a dollar is demanded, and I have seen it given. The commissariat give a dollar for about seventeen pounds of grain: if we buy it for our horses in the camp – which we are obliged to do, as there are no rations issued for our baggage-animals – we have to give a dollar for about twelve pounds. The price of a good mule before we came here was seven or eight dollars; this had risen to thirty-two or thirty-three, at which the 3d Cavalry bought a considerable number, and to thirty-seven, the average price at which Captain Griffiths, of the Transport Train, purchased a good many. General Merewether, however, by one of those masterly coups for which he is so distinguished, has suddenly raised the market price 25 per cent, by giving fifty dollars each for a lot of forty, among which were some very indifferent animals. After this, of course, fifty will be the current price, until General Merewether makes another purchase for the public service, after which there is no predicting the price at which they will probably arrive. It is all very well to say that they are cheaper here than they are in Egypt; that has, as far as I can see, nothing whatever to do with the question, any more than it would be to say they are cheaper than at the North Pole. The people were willing to sell them at thirty-seven dollars for picked animals; why, then, spoil the market by giving fifty? It is urged that we are in want of mules, and that, by offering even more than they ask, we shall induce them to send in larger quantities; but I cannot agree that it is so. We were before paying 700 per cent more than their ordinary price, and this would be sufficient temptation to owners of any mules within a hundred miles – and good mules are not common – to have brought them in. Every mule fit for the purpose would have come in, and by paying 900 per cent we can obtain no more. One source of irritation has been, I am happy to say, if not put down, at least rebuked. After the parade the other day the Commander-in-chief rode to the church, attended by most of the mounted officers. The usual demand of a dollar a-head was made, which Sir Robert very properly refused to pay, and through the interpreter said a few appropriate words to the priest as to money-changers in the temple. He refused, he said, upon that ground to allow the charge of a dollar a-head to be paid, but promised that upon his return from Magdala he would present an altar-cloth at the church.

I have not mentioned that oxen, for which even at the enormously-enhanced prices at Senafe we paid six and a-half dollars, are here charged sixteen and seventeen dollars; and this with the plains in many cases containing thousands upon thousands. Of course it is a great question as to how far we ought to put up with such extortion as this. It is certain that the French, under similar circumstances, would not do so; but then the success of the French against native populations has not upon the whole been brilliant; their case therefore is no argument in its favour. If we chose to take what we required, and to offer in payment the fair country price, or even its double, of course we could do so, and could thrash all Tigre if necessary; but, putting it in the mere pecuniary light, would it pay? Much as I hate extortion, dearly as I should like to punish the nation of thieves through whom we are passing, I yet do not think it would pay. It is hard to be cheated by a half-naked savage; but it is better to put up with it than to undergo the amount of labour, anxiety, and loss which savages could in our present circumstances entail upon us. They are at present driving a thriving trade by selling us part of the roofs of their houses. This sounds strange, but is absolutely the fact. Between this and Senafe – a distance of forty miles – not a single tree is to be met with which could be used for telegraph-poles: the engineers were completely at a nonplus. At last we struck upon the expedient of buying poles from the natives, and an offer was made to give them a dollar for every six poles. Since then Mr. Speedy, who has undertaken the negotiation, has a complete levée of natives with poles. These poles are perfectly straight, and must be fourteen feet long; they are slight, much slighter than ordinary English hop-poles, and they are very thin towards the upper extremity. The natives use them for the roofs of their houses; but where they get them from, or what tree furnishes them, is at present a mystery; certainly I have seen no tree since my arrival in this country which grows at all in the same way. Some of these poles look freshly cut, but others are old and have evidently been used in the roofs of houses. They would not be nearly strong enough for an ordinary telegraph-wire, but can easily enough carry the fine copper-wire used here.

Mr. Speedy has been requested by the Commander-in-chief to wear the native attire; and his appearance, although no doubt very imposing to the native mind, is yet extremely comic to a European eye. Imagine a gentleman six feet and a half high, with spectacles, wearing a red handkerchief over his head, and shading himself with a native straw umbrella. Round his neck he wears the fur collar with tails, to which I have already alluded as part of a chief’s insignia; over his shoulders is the native white-cloth wrapping, with red ends; below this is a long coloured-silk garment; and below all this the British trousers and boots. Mr. Speedy is a capital fellow, and a general favourite with everyone; but his appearance at present is almost irresistibly inducive of laughter.

The climate of this place is as near perfection as possible. It is not so hot as Senafe during the day, although even here in a single bell-tent the thermometer registered 110° to-day at eleven o’clock. But there is almost always a fresh breeze; and excepting from nine to twelve, when the wind generally drops, it is never too hot for walking. At night it is not so cold as at Senafe; for although the glass goes down to 36° or 37°, there is no wind at night and very little dew, so that one does not feel the cold as one did at Senafe. It is really a delightful climate; and although 110° in a tent sounds hot, the sensation of heat is nothing approaching that of a sultry July day in England. There is no game here, with the exception of hares, which are very plentiful. Major Fanshawe, of the 33d, went out the other afternoon with his gun, and returned in a couple of hours with a bag of nineteen hares, an almost unprecedented amount of sport for two hours’ shooting in an unpreserved country. The natives bring in leopard-skins for sale: where they shoot them I cannot say. They do not find any purchasers, for the amount of baggage allowed is so small, and will be smaller beyond Antalo, that no one will burden themselves with a pound of unnecessary weight.

The 33d went forward three days ago, and Sir Robert Napier himself starts for Antalo on the 17th instant. If the 4th regiment arrive in time they will accompany him. I close my letter rather hastily, as I have just heard there is a mail expected to go three days before the regular packet.

The Commander-in-chief has, since he started from the sea, shown every desire to forward our objects in every way. We were invited to be present at the reception of the Tigre ambassador, and Sir Robert very kindly sent in a précis of the information received from Magdala. I am very glad, for the sake of my readers as well as myself, that in future I shall have no fear of either being kept in the dark or of being debarred from accompanying any expedition which may be on foot. I am still more glad to be able to say that the position of the foreign commissioners has been also improved. They are now all forward here, and one of the Prussian officers has been placed upon the Chief’s personal staff. This is much more as it should be. Now that we are fairly moving forward, bets are being freely exchanged as to the date of our arrival at Magdala. The first of May is the favourite time. I hardly think we shall be there as soon as that, but must delay the discussion of the pros and cons until my next.

    Attegrat, February 17th.

Since I sent my letter off three days ago, nothing has occurred of any great importance; at the same time there is scarce a day passes here without some event of more or less interest taking place. A wing and the head-quarters of the 4th regiment have marched in, and have taken the place of the 33d regiment. The Beloochees are here, and a portion of these have already pushed on to improve the road. On the 15th we had quite a sensation in camp. Two elephants arrived, and 2000 or 3000 of the natives flocked around in a very few minutes. At first they kept at a prudent distance, but, emboldened by the sight of the Europeans standing round and giving the animals pieces of biscuit, they gradually closed in, and talked in tones of admiration and wonder, showing all their white teeth, as is their custom. Presently, however, one of the elephants, not approving of all this hubbub, wheeled suddenly round, his trunk high in the air, and trumpeting loudly. An instant scattering of the natives took place, the crowd flying in all directions as if an infernal-machine had exploded in their midst. They gradually reassembled, but never again ventured to get within familiar distance of the elephants. Yesterday the G-14 battery of Artillery arrived, and created an admiration among the natives that our mountain guns had quite failed to arouse. The guns are twelve-pounders, and have been brought as far as this upon their wheels, a fact which speaks equally for the practicability of the road and for the energy and perseverance of its officers and men. In many places the guns had to leave the road, and to be hauled up difficulties with tackle and handspikes. At the descent into this valley, which I described in a former letter, the road cut along the face of the hill was not of sufficient width for the wheels, and the guns had to be lowered down the steep descent into the valley bottom with tackle. Three hours were occupied in getting the six guns down. They will probably go no further than Antalo upon their carriages, but three will be thence taken on upon elephants; the other three will, at any rate for the present, remain here. This camp is in process of being turned into an entrenched position. The lines have been laid out by Major Pritchard of the Engineers, and the 4th are at present at work upon them. That regiment moves on to-morrow, but the next which takes its place in camp will continue the work. The entrenchments do not include the whole of the present camp, as the number of men permanently stationed here will, of course, be much smaller than at present. The lines will surround the commissariat stores and a portion of the water-pools; they also run round the summit of a steep shelf of rocks in the rear of the camp, and which, when thus strengthened, might be defended by 200 men against 500 similarly armed and disciplined, and therefore against any number of Abyssinians whatever. Even now that we have a strong force here, the people are exceedingly bumptious, and I have little doubt that there will be some row of greater or less importance when they see only a small body of troops stationed here.

Scarcely a day passes that they do not raise their war-cry about something or other. Some of the squabbles arise about our cutting grass; others about wood; others about their insisting upon wandering through the camp; and blows have been exchanged with fists and sticks upon all these and several other points. The noble Abyssinian is quite ready to cut and sell us any quantity of hay, and to charge us an exceedingly-remunerative price for the same. But although we have promised, and, indeed, have paid, a round sum for the privilege, they object strongly to our own men cutting hay, although it is of no use whatever to themselves. Consequently, a guard is always obliged to be sent on with the main body of grass-cutters. Any small parties who may go out in search of forage nearer to the camp than the regular grass plains are warned off, and driven back by the natives. There have been numerous rows on this score, and in some cases the natives have actually set fire to the grass rather than allow us to cut it. If they dared they would not allow a blade of grass to be cut except by themselves. The same questions arise as to wood. They will bring in large quantities of firewood themselves for sale, but they very strongly object to our men collecting it themselves, although there is not, of course, a shadow of pretence to say that our collecting dry wood can in any way damage them. There was a great hullabaloo yesterday on this subject. Two men had gone out for dry wood, and a priest and two or three natives came out and ordered them away. The priest told them that the grove where they were collecting the wood was sacred, and therefore they must not take it. The men of course did not understand a word he said, and expressed their determination to carry off their wood. He then called upon them as Christians to desist, and the men, being Hindoos, made some gestures of contempt or abhorrence at the name of Christians. An attack was then made upon them; but many of these Syces are remarkably strong, active fellows, and in a very short time the Abyssinians found that they had met with much more than their match. They set up their rallying-cry, and a number more natives hurried up, and the Hindoos would have got the worst of it had not another grass-cutter come up with a gun. The Hindoos then retired, followed by a crowd of enraged Abyssinians. When they reached the camp the Abyssinians attempted to follow them in, and blows had to be freely exchanged before the point of their exclusion was maintained. The priest alone was admitted, and instead of conducting himself quietly he ran about shouting and gesticulating until one of the camp policemen seized him, and, after a struggle, made him a prisoner. When Sir Robert Napier, who was out riding, came into camp, he investigated the whole matter; and, finding that the Syces had been in the wrong by insulting the religion of the people, he ordered them to have a dozen lashes each. But here the Abyssinians really showed themselves to be Christians, for the priest and his witnesses, all of whom bore marks of having suffered in the skirmish, knelt down, and said they would not rise unless the culprits were forgiven, which accordingly they were. This certainly was a remarkable trait. Here were men who conceived that themselves and their religion had been insulted, and who had certainly been well thrashed, really and truly, while their wounds were still fresh, asking forgiveness for their foes. I fancy very few European Christians would have done it. It is pleasant to find a redeeming-point in the character of this nation of extortioners. It is also to be said for them that they are a very merry people, and are constantly on a broad grin. Quarrels among themselves are extremely rare; at least, I have not heard a single dispute since I arrived in this country.

The Abyssinians, too, are men with a strong sporting tendency. They bet freely on the speed of a horse or the accuracy of their aim. They bet, too, with conditions under which very few Englishmen would make a wager. They choose a judge, and the judge, whoever wins, takes the stakes, the loser of course paying. This system of betting, where one may lose and cannot win, is, as far as I am aware, without a precedent, and would do more, if introduced into England, to put down gambling than all the laws that Parliament could pass would do in a hundred years. Another thing to be said for them is that those who know them most like them best, and a stronger argument in their favour than this could hardly be used. Still, undoubtedly, they are fond of fighting, partly perhaps for its own sake, and partly because it would be manifestly impossible for them to put the whole of the hard work of the place on the shoulders of the women and children upon the plea of being warriors, and therefore privileged to do nothing, unless they really did do a little fighting occasionally.

This morning there was another row, which at one time really threatened to come to fighting. One of the natives came inside our lines when the men were at work upon the entrenchments. The policeman – a soldier armed with a stick – warned him back; but he refused to go. Having spoken several times, the sentry pushed him. Whereupon the native drew his sword and rushed upon the soldier, who met him, however, with a tremendous blow of his stick, which knocked him backwards into the ditch with a broken head. The man set up his war-cry, and the natives flocked up, shouting and brandishing their spears. They refused to retire when ordered by the officer to do so, and continued to threaten an attack until Colonel Cameron ordered fifty of his men to load and fix bayonets, and told the natives that unless they retired he should order his men to advance. This was sufficient; and the place was speedily cleared. These little fracas, although trifling in themselves, sufficiently show that the natives are an extremely independent race, and are quite ready for a fight upon the smallest provocation. At present we are so strong as to render any open attack upon their part a hopeless proceeding; but when this post is left with only four or five hundred men I should not be at all surprised if the natives came to blows with us upon some trifling matter or other. The three cannon which are to be left here will no doubt have a salutary effect. The natives are astonished at them, and say that they are much bigger than those of Theodore.

Three of the officers of the 4th regiment saw, the other day, at Fokado, an operation which was described by Bruce, but which has been denied by all subsequent travellers, and by the Abyssinians themselves. This was the operation of cutting a steak from the body of a living ox. They came upon the natives just as they were in the act of performing it. The unfortunate bullock was thrown down, and its four legs were tied together. The operator then cut an incision in the skin near the spine, just behind the hip-joint. He blew into this to separate the skin from the flesh, and then cut two other incisions at right angles to the first, and then lifted a flap of skin four or five inches square. From this he cut out a lump of flesh, cutting with the knife under the skin, so that the amount of flesh taken out was larger than the portion uncovered. The operator then filled up the hole with cow-dung, replaced the flap of skin, plastered it up with mud, untied the feet of the poor animal, which had kept up a low moaning while the operation was going on, gave it a kick to make it get up, and the whole thing was over. I should mention that the operator cut two or three gashes in the neighbourhood of the wound, apparently as a sign that the animal had been operated upon in that part. The officers observed that several of the other cattle of the same herd were marked in a precisely similar manner. They returned in half an hour, and found the animal walking about and feeding quietly. I have not mentioned that it bled very little at the time the operation was being performed. It certainly is very singular that, after so many years, Bruce’s story, which has been always considered as a traveller’s tale, should have been confirmed. All travellers have denied it. Mr. Speedy, who was a year among them, tells us that he never saw or heard of its being done, and that the Abyssinians, of whom he had inquired respecting the truth of Bruce’s statement, had always most indignantly denied it, and indeed had asserted that it would be entirely contrary to their religion, for that they strictly keep the Mosaic law, to eat no meat unless the throat of the animal had been cut and the blood allowed to escape. Anatomists have denied the possibility of an animal when such an operation had been performed being able to walk afterwards. Here, however, was the indisputable fact. The operation was performed, and the ox did walk afterwards. It is true that it might not have been done by Abyssinians proper. The party may have been some wandering tribe belonging to the low country who might have come up for trading purposes. It is very unfortunate that neither Mr. Speedy nor any of the interpreters were at hand to find out the exact tribe to which these savages belonged.

I am unable to give you any reliable account of Major Grant’s visit to the King of Tigre. He was, I know, hospitably received, and the horsemen of the King performed various feats, such as riding in and out between poles, and cutting at them; but I am unable to say more, as Sir Robert Napier, no doubt for some good reason of which I am ignorant, refused to allow us to see Major Grant’s report, or to have a précis of it given to us. It is still reported that the King himself is coming to meet the General, and a place two days on our march towards Antalo is mentioned as the appointed place. We even hear that the King has set out from Adowa for that spot; but I confess that until I see his sable Majesty I shall not have much faith in his coming. Still, these very slippery men always do exactly the thing which one would expect that they would not do; and on this theory only it is quite possible that Kassa may appear in propriâ personâ. If he does come it will no doubt be a very much more stately affair than the pantomime I described in my last letter, and I hope that our elephants and cannon will open his Majesty’s eyes to the fact that we are a people whom it would be vastly safer to leave alone.

I have been over to-day to the weekly fair at Attegrat. I was also there last Monday, but had no space to give to its description in my last letter. A more amusing sight I have seldom or never seen. Some two or three thousand people must have been present. The fair or market, as I suppose it should be called, is held upon a flat rocky slope on the other side of the village, and this is packed so close that one moves about among the squatting and standing groups with difficulty. At one end is the cattle-fair. The number each grazier brings into market is not large (seldom over two or three), and there they stand in little quiet groups surrounded by their master and several of his friends, and submitting to be felt, pinched, and examined as well as the best-behaved English cow would do. Here, too, are the donkeys, sturdy little beasts, not much bigger than a Newfoundland dog, but which will carry nearly as great a weight as a mule. I wonder our Transport Corps does not buy a lot of them for carrying commissariat stores. They will take two bags each, that is 150 pounds’ weight, and require no saddles, for the bags are merely laid upon their broad little backs and strapped there with a few strips of hide; they require no grain, and very little hay, and cost only five or six dollars. Any number of them might be purchased. These, like the oxen, stand very quietly, and appear perfectly indifferent as to any possible change in their ownership. They not unfrequently have young ones by their side, little round rough beasts with disproportionately-long ears and shaggy coats. The goats appear to take matters with less indifference. Their masters endeavour to keep them in little circles, with their heads towards the centre; but they are continually trying to escape from this arrangement, and to make a bolt for it. They keep up a constant bleating as a protest against the whole proceeding. Near to them is the grain-market. Here are men and women with their grain-bags, made of skins of goats sewn up, and with only an opening at the neck. They sit about everywhere, while the buyers walk about among them and inspect the samples with a gravity and intentness which would do no discredit to Mark-lane. Their purchases probably will not exceed two or three pounds’ weight, but they are as careful over the matter as a brewer would be who was going to make a bid for a ship’s cargo. The grain is almost entirely barley, and splendid barley too. There are beside, however, a variety of other grain, of which I do not know the names. The natives distil a spirit from their barley, which is said to be something between gin and hollands in flavour. I have not yet tasted any. Very thick is the throng round a Parsee belonging to the commissariat, who is buying up all he can get for Government at a dollar for nineteen pounds. Near him is another little crowd: here another commissariat employé is similarly engaged in buying up ghee – that is, clarified or boiled butter – for the native troops. It does not look very nice, and what does not make the sight the pleasanter is, that the women, when they have emptied the jars into the commissariat casks, invariably wipe them out with their hands, and then plaster the remainder upon their heads. An Abyssinian does not consider himself properly dressed unless his hair is shining with oil, not put on or rubbed on, but plastered on, and running down his neck as the sun melts it. The idea is not, according to our notions, pleasant, but it is a matter of taste. When an Abyssinian really wants to make a great effect he uses butter, not ghee, and puts it on until his head is as white as that of a London footman. Then he is conscious that he has indeed done it, and walks with a dignity befitting his appearance. There were several swells of the period so got up at the market, and as they stood under the shelter of their straw umbrellas – for the sun would melt it and destroy the whole effect – I could not but wonder at and admire the different forms which human vanity takes.

Further on was the cloth mart. Here were women and men selling the black blankets which almost all women here wear, in addition to the ornamented skins, which form the only garments of the Senafe women. These blankets, which are very large, are worn wrapped round the body, and secured on one shoulder by a large iron pin. The blankets are coarse and thin, and have but little warmth. Officers have, however, bought large numbers for their servants, who feel the cold at night much. When we are stationary for a few days the followers construct some sort of tents with gunny-bags and clothes, but upon the march they have, of course, to sleep in the open air. Near to the vendors of blankets for the women are the sellers of the white-cotton cloth for the men. These are always men; I have seen no women engaged in selling cloth. I have no doubt they carry it to the market, but the men take the sale into their own hands. This is, perhaps, the busiest part of the fair. But beyond this we come to the largest and by far the most amusing portion of all. This is the miscellaneous market. Vegetables and herbs occupy by far the largest share of this. Here are women and girls with herbs of every sort and kind, of very few indeed of which I had any previous knowledge. Here, too, are women with tobacco, very coarse, and broken up roughly, instead of being cut. The tobacco, of course, is carried in the skins, which appear to be the receptacles for everything in this country. Here are men with salt, in shape and appearance exceedingly like a mower’s whetstone. These serve as money, and are laid out upon the ground at so many for a dollar, but if the salesman sees a European approaching he will abstract a portion, and demand a dollar for less than half of the number which should be given for that amount. Here are men selling the blue string, which all Christians wear round their neck in token of their faith. Here are men selling the great iron pins, with a rough attempt at ornament upon their heads, which all women use to fasten their blankets upon their shoulders. Here are women with strings of beads, and pumpkins, and watercresses, and dried herbs, and chillies, and honey, and garlic, and potatoes, and young onions for sale. A miscellaneous catalogue, and sold quite as miscellaneously, for the goods are sold by barter more than for money, and each vendor will bring in half-a-dozen small baskets, which she places before her to contain the various articles which she may receive in exchange. Thus, for her beads she may get some grain, a few bulbs of garlic, and a bar or two of salt. Some of these, again, she will barter for a pumpkin, a chicken, and some dried herbs; and so the commerce is carried on. Imagine a large number of these dark-faced, scantily-dressed people, very grave over their purchases, but very merry, as is their wont, in their conversation with each other, the men generally walking about, the women squatting behind their wares, always in groups, and laughing, chattering, and looking after their children – strange little potbellied black figures, with half of their heads shaved, and their sole garment a very small piece of goatskin on their shoulder. Some of the girls are, as I have already said, really pretty, with beautiful brown eyes. They have no objection to be looked at and admired. They pretend, of course, to be very shy, and half hide their faces, and look the other way; but really are very amused and a good deal gratified when a European pauses to look at them. It is singular how similar is the constitution of the female mind in savage and in civilised countries. An English beauty certainly does not betray any consciousness of being looked at and admired, excepting, of course, if she be a milkmaid; but she is no doubt equally conscious, and perhaps just as pleased – except that the sensation is more a matter of course – as is the dark-eyed and dark-skinned Abyssinian girl sitting in her scanty leathern garment and shell-ornamented wrapper in the market at Attegrat.

I do not know when the rainy season begins; indeed, it is a moot point, authorities varying in their dates from April to July; but I know we had a thunderstorm here the other day which nearly washed us out of camp. It began at three o’clock in the afternoon, and found us quite unprepared, as we have had so many threatening-looking skies that we had ceased to believe in rain. However, this time there was no mistake about it. It came up in a dense black cloud from behind the mountain beyond Attegrat. The thunder roared, the lightning was for a while terrific, and for about an hour a tremendous storm of rain and hail poured down upon us. Being an old campaigner, one of my first cares upon pitching my tent had been to have a trench dug round it; but very many officers, relying upon the fine weather, had neglected taking this precaution. Knowing what the state of things would be, immediately the rain ceased I sallied out. The camp was completely under water. As I have mentioned in a former letter, it is pitched upon the gradual slope of a hill, and down this slope a perfect stream of water came nearly two inches deep. As the rain held up, a few figures might be observed peering out of their tents to examine the skies, and as soon as it was quite certain that the rain was over, the camp, which had five minutes before appeared perfectly deserted, was like an ant-hill suddenly disturbed. Great was the devastation the flood had wrought. Through many of the tents it had swept in a flood two inches deep, soaking everything placed upon the ground. Here we saw the servants bringing out a bed, which, having been placed upon the ground, was drenched with water; here was another party bringing out hay with which some particular man had carefully carpeted his tent; here was an officer emptying out his trunks to see if the things at the bottom had suffered. As I wandered about I met Major Minion, the principal commissariat-officer here. He was hastening to the Chief for authority to issue first-class flour instead of second to the troops, as a great deal of the first quality had got wetted, and must be issued at once to prevent its being spoiled. Of course the native followers and others who had no tents suffered most of all; and the camp in a short time presented the appearance of undergoing a general washing-day, so many were the garments hung out to dry. Of course, in accordance with the old proverb of shutting the door after the horse was stolen, there was at once a great demand for picks and shovels, and everyone who had not already done so set to work at digging a trench round their tents. The night after the storm was much less cold than the preceding one had been, and the whole country looks fresher and brighter for the washing. And now as to our most absorbing topic, the advance. It takes place positively to-morrow. Sir Robert Napier himself goes on, and is accompanied by the Artillery, 3d Native Cavalry, five companies of the 4th King’s Own, and the remaining three companies of the 10th Native Infantry. The Beloochees were also to have gone forward, but there is not sufficient transport, and they will follow in a day or two. The little party of Engineers also go forward with the photographic and signalling apparatus. The two elephants will also form part of the train. The march hence to Antalo is eight days’ journey, which are divided as follows: Mai Wahiz, 13 miles; Ad Abaga, 15; Dongolo, 12; Agula, 14; Dowlo, 19; Haig Kullat, 9; Afzool, 9; Antalo, 5: total, 96 miles. Colonel Phayre, who has again gone ahead, reports that the road presents no great difficulties; but it does not appear as if the first day’s march were by any means an easy business, for the baggage-guard of the 33d regiment, which left here at nine o’clock in the morning, did not arrive at its destination until six o’clock on the following morning. The Commander-in-chief rode out next day, and found the road really impracticable at two or three places. He was exceedingly angry that the corps which has gone ahead nominally to make this road should have left it in such a state. A party of the Beloochees were at once set on, and it is to be hoped that by to-morrow they will have made it passable. The party of Bombay Sappers and Miners, who have done such good work in the pass, have gone on to-day, with instructions to keep a day’s march ahead of the Chief. They will improve, as far as they can, any very difficult places; but as they will have to progress as fast as the troops, they will of course be able to do very little. The last two days’ march even Colonel Phayre reports to be exceedingly difficult, as, instead of the flat sheets of sandstone over which much of the preceding day’s journey passes, we here have to cross sheets of bare limestone, upon which horses can stand with difficulty. He states that it will be necessary to strew soil or sand upon the rocks to make them at all passable. It is evident, therefore, that we shall have some serious difficulties to encounter even between this and Antalo; still, we may expect to be at that town by the end of the month. From thence to Magdala it is 160 miles, or thereabouts; for it is impossible to reckon within twenty miles in a country where the mountains and gorges necessitate such constant windings. I mentioned in my last letter that bets were freely offered and taken that we arrive at Magdala by the 15th of April. The whole question is one of provision and transport; and the most casual examination of the question will show that it will be a very long time before the provision for the onward march can be collected at Antalo. I related in my letters a month since how hard a task it was to feed the troops at Senafe and along the pass, and to accumulate provisions in our advance to Attegrat. Senafe is only five days’ march from Zulla; Antalo is sixteen; and, allowing for the mules to stop one day at Senafe, and one at Attegrat, to rest, which would be absolutely necessary, it is eighteen days from Zulla. We shall have twice as many troops to feed at Antalo as we had at Senafe; and as it is three times as long a journey, it will require six times as many transport-animals to feed the troops at Antalo now to what were required to feed the former force at Senafe. In addition to this, we shall have a body of troops at Attegrat, and another at Senafe, to feed. The Transport Train is more efficient now than it was a month since, but it is not greatly more numerous, as the number of fresh arrivals is almost balanced by the number of mules going daily into hospital, broken down with over-work, bad feeding, and sore backs brought on by the pack-saddles. The fact of the road being now practicable for carts to Senafe, is also an assistance to the Transport Train; but I confess that I cannot see how they will manage to provision all the line, much less to accumulate stores. It is, we have just seen, eighteen days from Zulla to Antalo. Supposing that the mules go regularly up and down, stopping two days at each end to rest, it will take them forty days to make the circuit. Putting the number of available transport-animals at 16,000, which is over the mark, there would be only four hundred a-day to start from the sea-coast. When it is remembered that these four hundred animals would have to carry their own food for those places at which grain cannot be obtained, that they have to carry the rations for their drivers for the forty days, that they have to provision the different minor posts, together with Senafe and Attegrat, it will be seen that the quantity of provisions which will reach Antalo daily will be by no means excessive. And yet, before we can move forward from Antalo, on a journey which, going and returning, and with a pause of a week at Magdala, can hardly be calculated as under two months, we must have accumulated there a sufficient amount of provisions for the whole time we may be absent; and this not only for the troops and animals who go, but for the force which will remain there during our absence. We must also have a supply accumulated at the posts along the road, as we shall take so large a portion of the transport-animals in our further advance, that we must be sure that a stock has accumulated sufficient to last some time. I hear that the number of mules which will go forward with us from Antalo will be about 6000, with two months’ provisions for the column and a certain amount for themselves. Following out the calculation I have made, we prove mathematically that we never can accumulate this 6000 mule-loads at Antalo. Mathematical proofs, fortunately, occasionally are falsified by facts. It was mathematically proved that no steamer could ever cross the Atlantic. The feat was, however, somehow accomplished; and I have no doubt but that, in the teeth of mathematics, we shall somehow or other accumulate provisions at Antalo, and shall march on to Magdala; but it must be some time first. I think the 1st of May to be the very earliest date at which we can hope to leave Antalo. Of course much will depend upon the fruitfulness of the country in the immediate vicinity of that town. If we can only obtain sufficient grain to feed our animals, and to lay in a store of provender for them for the advance, it will greatly lessen our difficulties. As far as we have already come, such has not been the case. Even the extreme prices we have given have barely purchased sufficient grain for the daily supply, and animals upon the route have to be fed upon grain brought from Bombay. Still, we must hope for better things. The date of our advance depends almost entirely upon the state of the grain-market at Antalo. We start to-morrow morning at half-past six, and that means that we must be up and moving before five. I must therefore close this letter, but shall write again in time to save the post from Ad Abaga, where I believe we shall halt for a day.

    Ad Abaga, Feb. 20th.

I cannot say that starting a convoy of baggage-mules off at half-past six in the morning is a pleasant operation. The order was “that all animals not off by half-past six must wait until after the departure of the column at seven;” that is, allowing for delays, that they would not be able to start until eight. I acceded to the suggestion of my travelling-companion that we should get our mules off early. At five we were up, completed our packing, had a cup of chocolate and a speedy wash, and then struck our tent, which was wet through with the heavy dew. Folding this up and getting it into a sack meant to contain it only when dry, was a long operation, trying to the temper and very destructive to the finger-nails. However, it and all our final preparations, including the loading the animals, were completed in time, and we were fairly en route at twenty minutes past six. We have long since come to the conclusion that the only way to get our baggage along is to be our own baggage-guard, and one or other of us, generally both, accompany it the whole distance. In this way we got into camp in the afternoon, from an hour and a half to two hours earlier than if we had trusted it only to the servants and drivers, and had we ridden on at our own pace we should only have had to wait doing nothing, and without a shelter, for three or four hours. On the present occasion my friend started with the baggage and I remained behind to see the column start. It was a pretty sight, and must have astonished the natives not a little. First came the 3d Native Cavalry, about three hundred strong, in their soldierly blue-and-silver uniforms. This regiment has had no easy time of it since their arrival at Attegrat, for we are exceedingly short of cavalry, and since the Scinde Horse went on, the 3d have had to furnish all the guards and escorts. For some days they had only eighteen men left in camp. I hear that two hundred horses have arrived at Zulla as remounts in the place of those they have lost by the disease. The strength of the regiment will then be raised to its original number of nearly five hundred sabres. I mentioned in a letter, some time since, that this regiment had been looked upon with some disfavour by the authorities for having started from Bombay without the baggage-animals with which, according to the terms of their agreement, they should have furnished themselves. This fault they have done their best to remedy by purchasing every mule they could get. They have now nearly made up their number, and upon the present march only had to draw thirty-five transport-animals, which they hope in a few days to be able to dispense with. Next to the 3d Native Cavalry came the Artillery, who had, at the last moment, received orders to take four guns instead of three. The guns were all drawn by eight horses. The greater part of the horses of this battery are very light grays, and two of the guns are horsed entirely by grays. They are in admirable condition, and look exceedingly well. Next followed the little party of Engineers. Behind them came the 4th King’s Own, in their light-brown, or rather dust-coloured suits, with their band playing the “Red, White, and Blue.” Colonel Cameron sets an excellent example to his men and officers by having his horse led, and by always marching at their head. The line was closed by the 10th Native Infantry, their band playing “Nelly Bligh.” After the troops came the head of a long line of baggage-animals. Having seen the column pass, I rode on and rejoined my baggage.

The road, as usual, leads over the plateau, with occasional steep ascents and descents. Two of these ascents turned out quite impracticable for artillery, and the road as made reflects great discredit upon those who went on in command of the pioneer force to make the way. The roads are made with short, sharp zigzags, where it is impossible for the horses to draw. Had not the artillery been accompanied by a strong force of infantry it would have been impossible to have got the guns up. As it was, the guns were pulled up the straight places by the horses aided by the men, and then the horses were taken out, the guns unlimbered, and the gun was dragged up first, round the curve, by the infantry with ropes, and the limbers were taken up afterwards. The work of getting the guns up one of these ascents occupied over two hours. Sir R. Napier is naturally extremely angry, as, had he not been informed by the officer in advance that the road was perfectly practicable, he would of course have sent on a strong working-party some days previously. I reached Mai Wahiz at half-past twelve, the 3d Cavalry having got in half-an-hour before me. In the afternoon we had another severe thunderstorm, with heavy rain, which fortunately only lasted about half-an-hour. Our camp at Mai Wahiz, instead of being, as usual, on a plain, or rather a slight rise near the plain, was placed upon a hill. I hear that in future we are always to encamp on a hill, or at any rate, as far as possible, in a defensible position. This shows that our Chief places exceedingly little faith in any protestations the Tigre king may make, and that he thinks that, even if he does come in to the durbar at this place, yet that he is not to be trusted out of sight. Everything at Mai Wahiz is very scarce, and forage dearer than ever. I had to pay two dollars for about eighteen pounds of barley for my baggage-animals, that is, just sixpence a pound. Hay is equally dear. The commissariat served out no hay to the transport-animals, and all that they had after a hard day’s work, with the prospect of another equally hard on the morrow, was three pounds of grain each.

From the foot of the hill we rode for some distance along a wide valley, with water in several places, and a good deal of cultivated ground. Then, after three or four miles of undulating plain we arrived at our camping-ground at a little after three o’clock. The natives here must be either a more warlike people than those whose villages we have passed since entering the country, or they must have much more warlike neighbours. For the villages are almost always surrounded by strong walls, and one or two were perched on eminences, and defended by walls and towers. One very curious castle we passed strongly resembling the old baronial castles one meets with in southern Scotland and the north of England. This was situated upon the edge of a precipice, and the rocks went sheer down from three sides of its walls for fifty or sixty feet. It must be impregnable in a country like this, where cannon are all but unknown. Another fort, which certainly looked of European construction, and if not must unquestionably have been built from a picture of a European fort, was perched upon the top of the mountain near where we descended into the valley. The precipice at its foot was at least a thousand feet down, but curiously enough the fort was in a sort of hollow, higher rocks at the distance of only a hundred yards on either side commanding it. If a European designed it, he certainly did not choose its position. It was a round fort, of perhaps fifty feet high, but it was difficult to judge its height from our position on the plain so much below it. Its diameter was about equal to its height. It had regular lines of loopholes, and appeared to have been built by some robber-chief to enable him to swoop down upon the caravans of traders journeying up and down the road we had just come. This camp is at about the same elevation as that at Mai Wahiz, and the climate is even more charming than that of Attegrat, for the heat is less during the day, and the cold last night was not at all equal to that which we experienced there. The on dit is that the King cannot arrive to-day, but will come to-morrow, and that we shall move out early and pitch our camp upon a plain six miles from here, and there receive him properly.

    Dongolo, Feb. 26th.

The King of Tigre has turned out to be a living entity and not a mythical being, as we had begun to consider him. He was to have paid us a visit at Attegrat, but he sent us an ambassador in his place, and no one thought that we should ever hear any more of the King. However, he sent to say that he would meet us upon a plain near Ad Abaga, and we journeyed there, rather incredulous but still hopeful. The King was to have been at the appointed spot upon the day after we had reached Ad Abaga; but messengers sent out brought news that, although it was currently reported that he had started from Adowa, he had certainly not arrived anywhere in the neighbourhood. As it was most important that we should see the King, and remain upon friendly terms with him, and as it was certain that if he had started to meet us, and found that we had gone on without stopping to see him, he would feel grievously affronted, the Commander-in-chief determined to wait. Fortunately, any delay we might experience could be of no importance to us, as it will be impossible to move forward from Antalo until a large stock of provisions are accumulated there, and whether we waited a week at Ad Abaga or at Antalo was perfectly immaterial. Wait accordingly we did for three days, before any reliable news reached us. At last we heard for certain, as we believed, that the King was at Hanzein, twelve miles off. This was on Saturday, and the messenger said that of course the King would not move on Sunday, but that he would come in on Monday morning to Mai Dehar, the appointed meeting-place.

On Sunday Major Grant, Captain Moore, and Mr. Speedy set out to meet the King, and accompany him to the meeting-place. They rode out to Hanzein, and found a considerable body of armed men there, and some of the princes. They were told that the King was five miles further on, and five good miles they rode, and, again inquiring for his Majesty’s whereabouts, found that the miles must have been Irish ones, for that the King was still five miles further on. They decided to return, and at Hanzein had another interview with the men in authority there. These worthies tried very hard to induce them to concede, on the part of Sir Robert Napier, that he would come as far as Hanzein to meet the King. Their object in this was, of course, to enhance the dignity of the King in the eyes of his own people, by making us come as far out of our way as possible to meet him; Major Grant, however, altogether refused to concede this point. He stated that we had already waited four days, and that unless the King moved forward at once, Sir Robert Napier would proceed upon his journey without seeing him. Major Grant then started with Major Pritchard of the Engineers, who had gone out to Hanzein with Lieutenant Morgan and his party of signallers, to return to camp. As it was dark when they started, they of course lost their way, and wandered about for some hours, leading their horses, which had two or three awkward falls. They arrived in camp at two o’clock in the morning. They did not pass any of the signallers’ posts on their way, and consequently Lieutenant Morgan and his men remained up all night, to flash the news across the hills of the hour of the King’s starting from Hanzein. Captain Moore and Mr. Speedy remained at Hanzein until the next day, and were hospitably, if not agreeably, entertained, with a repast, consisting of a large dish of half-baked bread, over which melted fat had been poured with a liberal hand. While they were occupied in endeavouring to find a morsel less saturated with fat than the rest, two or three of the chiefs showed them how the food should be eaten, by thrusting some exceedingly dirty hands into the mess, rolling up a large ball, and cramming it into their mouths. Captain Moore underwent a strong internal struggle, but conquered his desire to rush into the open air, and nobly shut his eyes and followed the example. Mr. Speedy – whose residence in Abyssinia has rendered him the reverse of dainty in matters of food – had already set-to with the grave complacency of a man who enjoys his repast.