Our
Route Lay Parallel To The Stream, And After A Ride Of About Two Miles
Through A Fine Park-Like
Country, bounded by the Abyssinian Alps about
fifteen miles distant, I observed a crowd of people round a large
tamarind
Tree, near which were standing a number of horses, mules, and
dromedaries. This was the spot upon which I was to meet Mek Nimmur. Upon
my approach the crowd opened, and, having dismounted, I was introduced
by Taher Noor to the great chief. He was a man of about fifty, and
exceedingly dirty in appearance. He sat upon an angarep, surrounded by
his people; lying on either side upon his seat were two brace of
pistols, and within a few yards stood his horse ready saddled. He was
prepared for fight or flight, as were also his ruffianly looking
followers, who were composed of Abyssinians and Jaleens. After a long
and satisfactory conversation I retired. Immediately on my arrival at
camp I despatched Wat Gamma with a pair of beautiful double-barrelled
pistols, which I begged Mek Nimmur to accept. On March 27th we said
good-by and started for the Bahr Salaam.
The next few days we spent in exploring the Salaam and Angrab rivers.
They are interesting examples of the destructive effect of water, that
has during the course of ages cut through and hollowed out, in the solid
rock, a succession of the most horrible precipices and caverns, in which
the maddened torrents, rushing from the lofty chain of mountains, boil
along until they meet the Atbara and assist to flood the Nile.
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