H. and K. now came up to the house. The fat goat was brought and given to one of the servants to drive before him; and we started for the Mareb, where we were going to stay a little time to shoot. There was a difficulty about finding our way, so we took a guide from one of the villages as we passed. This man did not seem to understand where we wanted to go to, and took us to another village, rather out of our road. Here we had a dispute, as a man from this village refused to go with us as guide; we tied him by his _shama_ to our first guide, and sent them on in front of our mules. All the women and some of the men in the village remonstrated and made a great noise, chattering and yelling to the top of their voices; when I ran in among them and pushed them right and left. This effectually stopped the noise, and we continued our journey in peace, while K. was much amused at my proceedings.
We passed by Aila Mareb, a village on the side of the hill. This is the last village before entering the desert, as the Abyssinians call all wild jungle; that is to say, parts of the country that are not inhabited. On the right of the path we were travelling along rose a large hill, with a table-land at the top. The peculiar shape of it struck me very much; as another ridge rose on the table-land, it looked in the distance like a vast breastwork. This hill overlooks a large jungled plain through which the Mareb runs--celebrated at one time as the abode of a noted "shifter," or robber, who defied the king's troops for some time and used to ravage the villages lying near the plain. He was caught at last; and the king said he would not kill him, as it was a pity to send him out of the world without giving him time to repent. So his eyes were put out with a hot iron, and he was allowed to live among his family and friends. This is a good instance of Abyssinian subtlety and cruelty.
Our road now lay through thick jungle, and in some parts high grass. The hills soon ceased, and we found ourselves in the valley of the Mareb. All of a sudden, on emerging from the thick jungle, we came on a fallow field; the crop had been reaped, and was stacked close by. The ballagas living near the valley of the Mareb very often sow crops after the rains, as the soil by the side of the river is very fertile indeed. This crop is watched by small boys of the village, to protect it from birds, deer, elephants, etc., but in many cases the best part of it is destroyed. The crop, or rather crops--for sometimes they reap two or three--are so heavy that it does not greatly matter if a little is eaten. The dry bed of the Mareb was at the bottom of this field, and thick, impenetrable jungle rose up on all sides, so we agreed to camp in the open field by the bank of the river.