I Compromised The
Matter, And Gave Him A Few Dollars, As I Understood That He Was
Mek Nimmur's Private Minstrel,
But I never parted with my dear
Maria Theresa* with so much regret as upon that occasion, and I
begged
Him not to incommode himself by paying us another visit,
or, should he be obliged to do so, I trusted he would not think
it necessary to bring his violin.
* The Austrian dollar, that is the only large current
coin in that country.
The minstrel retired in the same order that he had arrived, and
I watched his retreating figure with unpleasant reflections, that
were suggested by doubts as to whether I had paid him too little
or too much; Taher Noor thought that he was underpaid; my own
opinion was, that I had brought a curse upon myself equal to a
succession of London organ-grinders, as I fully expected that
other minstrels, upon hearing of the Austrian dollars, would pay
us a visit, and sing of my great deeds.
In the afternoon, we were sitting beneath the shade of our
tamarind tree when we thought we could perceive our musical
friend returning. As he drew near, we were convinced that it was
the identical minstrel, who had most probably been sent with a
message from Mek Nimmur: there he was, in snow-white raiment, on
the snow-white mule, with the mounted attendant and the violin as
before. He dismounted upon arrival opposite the camp, and
approached with his usual foppish bow; but we looked on in
astonishment: it was not our Paganini, it was ANOTHER MINSTREL!
who was determined to sing an ode in our praise. I felt that this
was an indirect appeal to Maria Theresa, and I at once declared
against music. I begged him not to sing; "my wife had a
headache--I disliked the fiddle--could he play anything else
instead?" and I expressed a variety of polite excuses, but to no
purpose; he insisted upon singing; if I "disliked the fiddle, he
would sing without an accompaniment, but he could not think of
insulting so great a man as myself by returning without an ode to
commemorate our arrival."
I was determined that he should NOT sing; he was determined that
he WOULD, therefore I desired him to leave my camp; this he
agreed to do, provided I would allow him to cross the stream, and
sing to my Tokrooris, in my praise, beneath a neighbouring tree
about fifty yards distant. He remounted his mule with his violin,
to ford the muddy stream, and he descended the steep bank,
followed by his attendant on foot, who drove the unwilling mule.
Upon arrival at the brink of the dirty brook, that was about
three feet deep, the mule positively refused to enter the water,
and stood firm with its fore feet sunk deep in the mud. The
attendant attempted to push it on behind, at the same time he
gave it a sharp blow with his sheathed sword; this changed the
scene to the "opera comique." In one instant the mule gave so
vigorous and unexpected a kick into the bowels of the attendant,
that he fell upon his back, heels uppermost, while at the same
moment the minstrel, in his snow-white garments, was precipitated
head foremost into the muddy brook, and for the moment
disappearing, the violin alone could be seen floating on the
surface. A second later, a wretched-looking object, covered with
slime and filth, emerged from the slough; this was Paganini the
second! who, after securing his fiddle, that had stranded on a
mud-bank, scrambled up the steep slope, amidst the roars of
laughter of my people and of ourselves; while the perverse mule,
having turned harmony into discord, kicked up its heels and
galloped off, braying an ode in praise of liberty, as the "Lay of
the last Minstrel." The discomfited fiddler was wiped down by my
Tokrooris, who occasionally burst into renewed fits of laughter
during the operation; the mule was caught, and the minstrel
remounted, and returned home completely out of tune.
On the following morning, at sunrise, I mounted my horse, and,
accompanied by Taher Noor and Bacheet, I rode to pay my respects
to Mek Nimmur. 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.
I commenced the conversation by referring to the hospitality
shown by his father to my countryman, Mr. Mansfield Parkyns, and
I assured him that such kind attentions were never forgotten by
an Englishman, therefore I had determined to visit him, although
the Egyptian authorities had cautioned me not to trust myself
within his territory. I explained that I was bound towards an
unknown point, in search of the sources of the White Nile, which
might occupy some years, but that I wished to perfect the
exploration by the examination of all the Abyssinian Nile
affluents: and I concluded by asking for his assistance in my
journey to the Bahr Angrab and the Salaam. He replied very
politely, and gave me much local information; he said that the
Egyptians gave him no peace, that he was obliged to fight in
self-defence; but that, if I could make overtures on his part to
the Egyptian authorities, he would engage never to cross the
Atbara, provided they observed a similar condition.
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