The first cut with the sword had
utterly disabled it; the second was its deathblow. The arteries of the
leg were divided, and the blood spouted in jets from the wounds. I
wished to terminate its misery by a bullet behind the ear, but Taher
Sherrif begged me not to fire, as the elephant would quickly bleed to
death without pain, and an unnecessary shot might attract the Base, who
would steal the flesh and ivory during our absence. We were obliged to
return immediately to our far distant camp, and the hunters resolved to
accompany their camels to the spot on the following day. We turned our
horses' heads, and rode directly toward home, which we did not reach
until nearly midnight, having ridden upward of sixty miles during the
day.
The hunting of Taher Sherrif and his brothers was superlatively
beautiful; with an immense amount of dash there was a cool,
sportsman-like manner in their mode of attack that far excelled the
impetuous and reckless onset of Abou Do. It was difficult to decide
which to admire the more, the coolness and courage of him who led the
elephant, or the extraordinary skill and activity of the aggahr who
dealt the fatal blow.
After hunting and exploring for some days in this neighborhood, I
determined to follow the bed of the Royan to its junction with the
Settite. We started at daybreak, and after a long march along the sandy
bed, hemmed in by high banks or by precipitous cliffs of sandstone, we
arrived at the junction.
Having explored the entire country and enjoyed myself thoroughly, I was
now determined to pay our promised visit to Mek Nimmur. Since our
departure from the Egyptian territory his country had been invaded by a
large force, according to orders sent from the Governor- General of the
Soudan. Mek Nimmur as usual retreated to the mountains, but Mai Gubba
and a number of his villages were utterly destroyed by the Egyptians. He
would under these circumstances be doubly suspicious of strangers.
We were fortunate, however, in unexpectedly meeting a party of Mek
Nimmur's followers on a foray, who consented to guide us to his
encampment. Accordingly on March 20th, we found ourselves in a rich and
park-like valley occupied by his people, and the day following was spent
in receiving visits from the head men. Messengers soon after arrived
from Mek Nimmur inviting us to pay him a visit at his residence.
As we were conversing with Mek Nimmur's messengers through the medium of
Taher Noor, who knew their language, our attention was attracted by the
arrival of a tremendous swell, who at a distance I thought must be Mek
Nimmur himself. A snow-white mule carried an equally snow-white person,
whose tight white pantaloons looked as though he had forgotten his
trousers and had mounted in his drawers. He carried a large umbrella to
shade his complexion; a pair of handsome silver-mounted pistols were
arranged upon his saddle, and a silver-hilted curved sword, of the
peculiar Abyssinian form, hung by his side. This grand personage was
followed by an attendant, also mounted upon a mule, while several men on
foot accompanied them, one of whom carried his lance and shield. Upon
near approach he immediately dismounted and advanced toward us, bowing
in a most foppish manner, while his attendant followed him on foot with
an enormous violin, which he immediately handed to him. This fiddle was
very peculiar in shape, being a square, with an exceedingly long neck
extending from one corner. Upon this was stretched a solitary string,
and the bow was very short and much bent. This was an Abyssinian
Paganini. He was a professional minstrel of the highest grade, who had
been sent by Mek Nimmur to welcome us on our arrival.
These musicians are very similar to the minstrels of ancient times. They
attend at public rejoicings, and at births, deaths, and marriages of
great personages, upon which occasions they extemporize their songs
according to circumstances. My hunting in the Base country formed his
theme, and for at least an hour he sang of my deeds in an extremely loud
and disagreeable voice, while he accompanied himself upon his fiddle,
which he held downward like a violoncello. During the whole of his song
he continued in movement, marching with a sliding step to the front, and
gliding to the right and left in a manner that, though intended to be
graceful, was extremely comic. The substance of this minstrelsy was
explained to me by Taher Noor, who listened eagerly to the words, which
he translated with evident satisfaction. Of course, like all minstrels,
he was an absurd flatterer, and, having gathered a few facts for his
theme, he wandered slightly from the truth in his poetical description
of my deeds.
He sang of me as though I had been Richard Coeur de Lion, and recounted,
before an admiring throng of listeners, how I had wandered with a young
wife from my own distant country to fight the terrible Base; how I had
slain them in a single combat, and bow elephants and lions were struck
down like lambs and kids by my hands. That during my absence in the hunt
my wife had been carried off by the Base; that I had, on my return to my
pillaged camp, galloped off in chase, and, overtaking the enemy,
hundreds had fallen by my rifle and sword, and I had liberated and
recovered the lady, who now had arrived safe with her lord in the
country of the great Mek Nimmur, etc., etc.
This was all very pretty, no doubt, and as true as most poetical and
musical descriptions; but I felt certain that there must be something to
pay for this flattering entertainment. If you are considered to be a
great man, a PRESENT is invariably expected in proportion to your
importance.
