I trod upon my old ground,
every step of which I knew, and I felt an exhilaration of spirits at the
fact that I was once more here in the new capacity of a deliverer, who
would be welcomed with open arms by the down-trodden natives of this
country.
Having descended from the clean plateau of rock, we carefully rode
across a slippery channel that had been worn by the sandy torrents of
the rainy season, and once more arrived at level ground. We were now on
the great table-land of Fatiko.
Upon our left, a mass of bold ruins, the granite skeleton remains of a
perished mountain, which formed a shelter from the morning sun, tempted
us to halt.
We had thus suddenly appeared upon the greensward of the plateau without
the slightest warning to the inhabitants of Fatiko. About a mile before
us stood the large station of Abou Saood, which occupied at least thirty
acres. On our right we were hemmed in by a wall of granite, sloped like
a huge whale, about three-quarters of a mile long and 100 feet high. The
southern extremity of this vast block of clean granite was the rocky and
fantastic hill of Fatiko crested with fine timber.
