A Narrative Of Captivity In Abyssinia With Some Account Of The Late Emperor Theodore, His Country And People By Henry Blanc
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The Scenery
Was Grand, And For The Artist No Doubt Full Of Attractions; But For
Europeans, Driven Like Cattle By Semi-Barbarians, The Precipitous
Descents And Steep Acclivities Had Certainly No Charms.
After a few
hours' march, we arrived at an almost perpendicular precipice (almost
1,500 feet in height, and not more than a quarter of a mile in
breadth), that we had both to descend and ascend in order to reach
the next plateau.
Another couple of hours' march brought us to the
gate's of Begemder. In front of us arose the plateau of Dahonte,
only about a couple of miles distant, but we had to ascend a more
abrupt precipice than the one we had just passed and climb again
a steeper ascent before we could reach it. The valley of the Jiddah,
a tributary of the Nile, was between us and our halting-place - a
stiff march, as the silver thread we viewed from the narrow passage
between the basaltic columns of the Eastern Begemder ridge was 3,000
feet below us. Tired and worn out, at last; we accomplished our
task.
We halted for the night at a place called Magat, on the first terrace
of the Dahonte plateau, about 500 feet from the summit. Our small
tent arrived in time, our servants had carried with them a few
provisions, and we managed to make a frugal meal; but only one or
two of the best baggage mules made their appearance, so that we had
to lie on the bare ground - those best off on leathern skins. It was
five days after our arrival at Magdala before a small portion of
our luggage arrived, and until then we could not even change our
clothes, and had nothing to protect ourselves against the cold
nights of the rainy season. Early on the morning of the 11th we
continued our ascent, and soon reached the splendid plateau of
Dahonte. This small province is but a large circular plain about
twelve miles in diameter, covered at the time of our journey, with
fields in all stages of cultivation, and with beautiful green
meadows, where grazed thousands of heads of cattle, and where mules,
horses, and innumerable flocks everywhere meet the eye. The whole
circumference of this plain is dotted with small rounded hillocks,
and from their base to the summit numerous well-built villages
arise. Dahonte is certainly the most fertile and picturesque district
I have seen in Abyssinia.
By noon we reached the eastern extremity of the plateau, and there
before us again appeared one of those awful chasms we had encountered
twice on our road since leaving Debra Tabor. We did not at all
rejoice at the idea of having to descend, then wade through the
wide and rapid Bechelo, and again climb the opposite precipice - a
perfect wall - to complete our day's work. Fortunately, our mules
were so tired that the chief of our guard halted, for the night
half way down the descent, at one of the villages that are perched
on the several terraces of this basaltic mountain.
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