CHAPTER XXIII.

ENCAMP AT LAKATAKOORA WITHOUT THE CARAVAN—DESCRIPTION OF VILLAGE—BASÉ LADIES VISIT ME ERE I GET OUT OF BED—THEY RECEIVE PRESENTS AND ARE VERY AMUSING—ENORMOUS NUMBERS OF DOVES AND SAND-GROUSE—ABOOSALAL TO SOGODA—BOA-CONSTRICTOR KILLED—AN UNPLEASANT JOURNEY, WE ALL GET SEPARATED—ARRIVE AT HEIKOTA AGAIN.

March 23rd.—Leaving Khor-Maiatah at 8.45 a.m., we had an exceptionally unpleasant day of it. We had seen the last of that fine river, the Tacazze; now if water was wanted it could only be obtained by digging a few feet in the sandy river-beds. We travelled over mountains, plains, valleys, river-beds, and nearly all day through a forest of those horrid mimosas, finally arriving at Lakatakoora, in the Basé country, at 7 p.m.,withoutthe caravan. At about 11 p.m. Cheriff, with the canteen, Ali the cook, and a few only of the camels arrived.

As we had not tasted food since about 1 p.m., Cheriff’s canteen was soon surrounded by us, and the contents of it cleared out in a very short time. Our dinner (which was a scanty one this time) did not appear until 12.30 a.m. Whilst this was being prepared by Ali we fired off rifles, burnt blue lights, and lighted a beacon fire for Suleiman with the hamlah to see where we were; but all to no purpose—they had lost their way. The moon retired for the night, and so many trees had to cut be down to enable them to come on, that at last they gave up the idea of attempting to find us, so slept out.

We also had rather a hard time of it. There was no choice of a camping-ground—there was but one. This was a large open space devoid of vegetation, but covered with a thick layer of impalpable dust, about an inch or so in thickness, infested with white ants. Fortunately our tents and bedding arrived. I did not wait for my tent to be pitched, but placed my bedding on the canvas covering of my tent on the ground, and there I managed to get through the night in a rather unsatisfactory manner. The other members of the party elected to remain up until their tents were pitched.

March 24th.—I passed a somewhat uncomfortable night amongst the white ants, lulled to sleep by the music of hyænas, some of whom seem tohave been intensely amused at our situation, if one may judge from the bursts of merriment issuing fromtheircamp, as they were evidently excited by uncontrollable fits of laughter, making the woods in the immediate neighbourhood resound by the exercise of their risible faculties.

I awoke about 6.30 a.m., but did not arise until 7. Quite near to our camp I observed on a precipitous mountain side enormous basalt rocks, somesinglerocks as big as a good-sized house. This was the village of Lakatakoora; and amongst these rocks, concealed from view, lived some Basé. I had not been awake long ere many of the Basé ladies, covered with beads, their eyelids and lips stained with kohl, rings in their noses and ears, and a strip of cloth around their waists, came and shook hands with me, murmuring “Mida” (good-day). Both men and women came in such increasing numbers that I decided to get up, and had to perform my toilet in their presence. They watched the whole performance with evident interest. Such a contrivance as a tooth-brush and tooth-powder elicited expressions of wonder and admiration, but a hair-brush and comb pleased them still more. Water was scarce. I therefore had to washà laTurk. Mahoom stood by me with a salmon tin full of water, pouring out little dribletsof water into my hands, finally douching my head with the remaining drop, about two ounces.

Our guide had been sent off at 6 a.m. in search of the lost portion of the caravan. He found it, and piloted it into our camp at 8.30 a.m. The Basé were very friendly and obliging in the way of water, for they brought us this invaluable liquid in very beautifully worked baskets, so closely woven that not a drop escaped, slung on the shoulder, like a pair of scales. They also brought us several gourds of wild honey, which we bought. Many beads and small looking-glasses were given to the ladies, who appeared highly delighted and amused when they saw their own faces reflected from a looking-glass for the first time in their lives. They crowded round the fortunate recipient of one of these reflectors, peeping over one another’s shoulders, giggling and laughing at their own reflection in a most amusing manner.

All being packed up by 10 a.m., we moved off a short distance, halting at Aboosalal at 12.30 p.m. on the sandy bed of a khor, surrounded on either side by lofty, precipitous rocks, along which scampered hundreds of enormous baboons and monkeys. Both men and camels seemed completely knocked up. A little way from camp was a little pool of water in this khor; and in the neighbourhood,without exaggeration, were thousands upon thousands of doves and sand-grouse. I took my gun down there in the evening when they came to drink, and stationed myself behind a huge rock. In less than half-an-hour I bagged about 15 brace of sand-grouse and five brace of doves.

The day before we arrived here the natives had killed an elephant. They and the vultures had picked his bones pretty clean, as nothing but his skeleton remained when I saw it. His tusks, of course, had been taken away. Later on they were offered to me by a Sheik’s son; but as they were damaged, small, and the price excessive, I was not a purchaser.

March 25.—Made a long march from Aboosalal to Sogoda, where water could be found. We started soon after 8 a.m., and long before we reached our destination darkness came on. This was a most unpleasant journey through prickly trees, again tearing our patched-up clothes and helmets. In one place we all got separated, each one selecting the way he thought best. I lost my way in a forest of kittar and mimosa bushes. I was obliged to dismount my camel, and presently got in such a fix that I could scarcely move either backwards or forwards. Noises became indistinct, and finally, I could not hear a sound. Others were, apparently,in the same position as myself, for shots and revolvers resounded on all sides. Eventually we reached the camping ground in detachments at 8, 9, and 10 o’clock, dining at 11 p.m., bed at 12.30. In the evening, before dark, we came across the trail of a boa-constrictor, followed it up, and successfully despatched the reptile, which measured 12 feet in length. The next day we pitched our tents at Fahncoub, on very good ground, surrounded by fine trees. Sogoda was a horrid place, the ground being covered with fine dust.

March 26th.—Starting from Fahncoub at 8.30 a.m., we once more reached Heikota at 11.30, having travelled a distance of 10 miles only. We found Herr Schumann, the animal collector, had gone, calling at Kassala, and taking all the animals with him to Souâkin. I take the opportunity of sending a letter on to Kassala by Alki, who has been a very good trustworthy fellow, but who is now leaving us, as he has a bad whitlow.

AN ABYSSINIAN IMPROVISATORE AND HIS LITTLE SLAVE—PREPARE FOR A MARCH TO MASSAWA—A STRANGE BASÉ BREAKFAST—PATIENTS—ARRIVE AT TOODLOAK—BENI-AMIRS ENCAMPED ON THE GASH—LIONS AND LEOPARDS ARE SHOT—OUR MONKEYS IN CAMP—BABOON MODE OF ATTACKING LEOPARDS—CRAFTY BABOONS—LIONS ABOUND—HYÆNA METHOD OF ATTACKING A LION—HYÆNA INTERVIEWS MR. COLVIN—ARRIVAL AT AMADEB—DEPARTURE FROM AMADEB—BAREAS ATTEMPT AN ATTACK ON THE CARAVAN—BENI-AMIRS WATERING THEIR FLOCKS AND HERDS—WE MEET WITH A YOUNG ELEPHANT—LEOPARD AND HYÆNA SHOT AT KHOR-BARAKER.

March 27th.—A great part of the morning was occupied with sorting out the heads of antelopes, buffalos, &c. I was particularly engaged in attending to about 50 patients in the morning, and perhaps 20 or so in the evening. Many of them had come from long distances to see the “Hakeem.”

In the afternoon a little Abyssinian boy, about 12 years of age (an improvisatore), made his appearance, accompanied by his slave (a small black boy), perhaps seven or eight years of age, carrying a rude native instrument with three or four strings on it, something like a banjo. He favoured us with a song, in which the word “Ingelese, Ingelese” occurred very frequently. The interpretation of the whole song I do not know, but it referred principally to the prowess of the English in the Abyssinian war. On being asked if he would sell this instrument, he replied—

“No, I cannot do that; it is my father and my mother.”

The young rascal had saved up all his money and bought the little black boy as his slave. He was delighted on seeing a scrap-book and a small musical box. These Mr. James presented him with, also a dollar, which the youngster handed over to his slave with quite the air of a superior.

March 28th.—To-morrow we hope to be on the march once more. To-day we are much engaged in securing fresh camels and camel-men for the march to Massawa. I was employed for fully two hours in the morning, and again in the evening, in relieving the several necessities and tribulations of my Arab friends.

March 29th.—Physic again greedily sought for by Hamrans, Beni-Amirs, Shukeriyahs, and Hadendowahs. I was engaged in dispensing from breakfast time until near luncheon time, and again all the evening until dark. If we do not move away from Heikota the medicine chest will soon be empty, for these people seem to positively enjoy mixtures and pills. In the evening, after dinner, all our late camel-men and horse-boys were paid off, each one receiving five dollars backsheesh, and a good knife and a razor, which are much prized. I have already spoken of the wonderful digestive powers of the Basé people, but they exceeded my wildest expectations, for on the 26th a circumstance occurred whilst we were on the march that convinced me they could digest anything from a boot to a pair of trousers, even with a man inside of them. Had anyone recounted the anecdote to me I daresay I might have been somewhat incredulous, and I cannot blame anyone, who does not know me, for being the same. However, they can please themselves as to whether they believe what I am going to state or not. I can vouch for the fact as I saw it myself.

In front of my camel, whilst on the march, were two Basé. One of them found that a portion of his sandal (made of buffalo hide) had worn away andcame off; he was a careful Basé and wasted nothing. Feeling rather hungry, the owner of the sandal pounded the bit of seceding sandal between two pieces of stone, and having done so began to masticate it. The other Basé man, who had secured a bit of the toothsome morsel, evidently thought this a superfluous proceeding on the part of his comrade, so incontinently proceeded to masticate it without this preliminary precaution. Their teeth certainly are good, even beautiful, and would be envied by any drawing-room belle, and I am sure their digestive powers would also be envied by any individual living—no need of Richardson’s Peptacolos here. I would recommend the party who wrote about “The Stomach and Its Trials” to peruse the above instructive anecdote.

March 30th.—This morning, after breakfast, my tent was surrounded again with the patients, who had arrived from all parts, far and near, on camels, on donkeys, and on foot. Amongst them was one old man who, after the approved native fashion, squatted on his haunches, holding out a little squeaking chicken, about a week or two old, at arm’s length, calling out “Hakeem howaga” (doctor, sir). This he continued at intervals for about a quarter of an hour, until I had got rid of many patients. What he intended this diminutivechicken for, unless as a present, I was at a loss to understand; but when, at last, his turn came, I soon discovered through Mahoom why the old man was so importunate. Yesterday he came complaining of his eyes. I then told him he must procure a small bottle for some lotion. “And now,” said Mahoom, laughing till he could hardly stand, “he bring you dis little chicken.” What he thought I was going to do with the chicken I don’t know, unless he expected me to smash it up, and with it make a lotion for his eyes. On my previous visit I gouged out some diseased bone from a boy’s foot, straightened the leg of another boy who had suffered from a contracted knee, and so on. My fame spread; hence the influx of patients suffering from all kinds of diseases, curable and incurable. At 11.30 a.m. we left Heikota, reaching Toodloak at 7 p.m., where we encamped on very dusty ground.

March 31st.—Here we found a very large village of Beni-Amirs encamped on the Gash, who may be likened to locusts, as they remained at Heikota until the animals had eaten up everything there; then they moved away to pastures new. Toodloak is quite a lion neighbourhood. An immense zareeba had been constructed on the river-bed in a large circle. Within this was an inner circle formed by the huts of the tribe, and into that inner circlemany hundreds of camels, sheep, cattle, and goats are every night driven in for protection from the wild beasts; yet, notwithstanding this, a lion will sometimes leap the barrier and bound off with, a sheep or a goat. Temp. 100° F. in the shade. The nights are now much warmer than they were three weeks ago.

April 1st.—Last night two lions, a lioness, and two leopards were shot, and all secured except one lion. We saw no less than seven or eight last night. The lion was a very fine fellow, measuring nine feet two inches from nose to tip of his tail. Sali cut a bit of the lion’s liver, to make him brave, as he said—a quite unnecessary proceeding, for he once was plucky enough to enter the jungle in search of a wounded lion, and that is what few would care to do.

April 2nd.—Lions are plentiful here. Last night they made a great noise round the camp, probably attracted thither by the sheep and goats. The Arabs had to mount guard over these, walking round in couples with spears and shield, and shouting to keep them away. Last night the party went out in couples at considerable distances apart. Each couple was ensconced in a small zareeba, in front of which was a goat or sheep, tethered to a stake driven in the ground, to tempt a lion. OppositeMr. Colvin’s zareeba, whilst he was patiently waiting inside for a lion to make his appearance, he had the mortification to see one leap on to his sheep, seize him, and bound off again with the sheep, pegs and rope ere he could get a fair shot at him; he discharged his rifle, but missed his lion. The heat is so great to-day that it is quite uncomfortable to walk across the river-bed in slippers—104° F. in the shade. To-morrow we shall probably start afresh, and pitch our moving tents a day’s march nearer home.

April 3rd.—All astir this morning preparing for the march to Amadeb, where we expect to find letters and newspapers from England. We have some tame monkeys and baboons in camp, which are very amusing and playful. When we are at breakfast some of them come and watch us, thankfully receiving any crumbs of comfort we choose to throw them. Although their movements are quite unfettered, they make no attempt to leave us and join their comrades who have not been civilized. Baboons, which are very large and strong, will sometimes form themselves into a limited liability company for the purpose of attacking a leopard, relieving one another at intervals; then, at last, when they think a favourable opportunity has arrived, all suddenly swoop down on him at once.They will often lay in wait for the goats and sheep going to water, then go and suck them whilst they are drinking; after which refreshing performance these robbers, not liking to return to their mountain fastnesses empty-handed, will take the liberty of borrowing a kid from the flock. Last night, about 10 o’clock, we heard lions near camp. One came pretty close to the horses, causing quite a stampede amongst them; at the same time all the camels got up, showing signs of great uneasiness. Lions are very numerous here, hyænas few. When hyænas predominate they will often attack a lion, and in a very systematic way, too. A number will get in front of him, and act as designing persons in England sometimes do. They throw dust in his eyes, then the whole pack will fall upon and make an end of him. At such times both the lion and hyænas make a great uproar. We heard them one night, and Sali, who is an excellent tracker, told us that hyænas were then attacking a lion. We hear that Sheik Ahmed, with a number of the Beni-Amirs, have made arrangements with the Basé for a shooting expedition in their country, intending to go as far as Maiambasar, then cross from there to the Settite. They have a curious way of making themselves agreeable out there. To make themselves acceptable, they will take wives from amongst the Basé;then when they leave the country they leave them behind, at the same time presenting them with a piece of cloth, some dhurra, and, perhaps, a few dollars.

April 4th.—Marched about nine hours to-day, encamping in a very mountainous region. Whilst the tents were being pitched, Mr. Colvin picked up a book, went about a hundred yards from camp, and sat down under a tree to read. He had not been there long ere he heard something breathing near him; looked round, and saw a hyæna within averyeasy distance. He naturally got up and made tracks for camp, as he had no rifle with him. His unwelcome interviewer followed him pretty closely until he approached the camp. Soon after this, very near to camp, one of them made for Dra, who drew his sword and shouted. George saw him, and at once gave him the contents of his rifle.

April 5th.—Marched from 8 a.m., reaching Amadeb, a garrison town, at 8.30 p.m. We travelled a very mountainous region to-day—in one part, for the distance of a mile or two, over large boulders of marble on the roadway. On arriving at Amadeb, all were soon busy in reading their letters from England. The Bey here treated us with great consideration and kindness, providing us with tea, sugar, milk, biscuits, and cigaretteswhilst our tents were being pitched and we were reading our letters. I had almost forgotten to mention one very exciting incident during our journey to-day, and it was this—All our party, except Mr. Colvin and myself, had gone on considerably in advance of the caravan (we were travelling along a dry river-bed, consequently on very open ground), when Suleiman came up in great haste, saying, “Doctor, have you got your rifle ready? The caravan is going to be attacked in the rear;” and off he went to inform the others. Colvin and I soon got our rifles and revolvers in readiness, and trotted back to the rear, where we found our men in a great state of excitement, leaping about, brandishing their spears, and insanely yelling, “Whoop! whoop!” which, of course, was no use, but an inconsiderate way of spending time and ventilating their feelings. Facing them were, perhaps, 80 or 100 Bareas (akin to the Basé), indulging in the same lunatic kind of performance. Our reinforcements arrived, in the shape of George, Anselmia, and the rest of the party. The Bareas, seeing our strength, then vanished like chaff before the wind. This was destined to be our last scare. From the information we could gather, it seems that the Bareas thought our numerous boxes were filled with dollars, and (according to Dra and Girgas)began pointing their spears towards them as if on hostile intentions bent. They retaliated by pointing rifles at them, which had the effect of inciting these fellows into a kind of war-like dance, accompanied by a significant brandishing of spears; and there is very little doubt that blood would have been spilt had we not promptly appeared on the scene.

April 6th.—Amadeb appears to be a tolerably large place. The houses are made of mud bricks baked in the sun, and are thatched. The whole town is surrounded by a mud wall. As we did not start until 3 p.m., I had many patients to attend. At 5 p.m. we encamped on pretty good ground, surrounded by trees, in which were thousands of doves, about 16 brace of which Mr. F. James and I soon knocked over, thus providing luncheon for the next day or two. We found water here.

April 7th.—We marched from 8 a.m. until 8 p.m., a distance of about 30 miles. At noon we passed a place where some thousands of camel, cattle, sheep, and goats were being watered. Of course, at this time of the year, all the river-courses are dry, and the water has to be drawn up from deep wells. The Beni-Amirs, and other neighbouring tribes, are a pastoral people, and owners of enormous herds, on which they wholly subsist. They producenothing, and seem to require nothing, except a few yards of cotton. Their mode of watering the herds is a very laborious one. On this sandy river-bed I observed about 20 very large but shallow mud-basins, and close to each basin a well. At the top of each well is an Arab, provided with a large antelope skin (dressed), fastened around the sides, and attached to a long rope. This skin he drops into the well, and hauls up, hand-over-hand, full of water, which he tips into the mud-basin until it is full. With such insufficient means, of course, a long time is occupied in filling the basins.

In the afternoon George, who had gone on ahead, came back much excited, saying there was a young elephant in a wood which could be easily shot, adding that if he had had an elephant rifle with him he should have been tempted to let fly. It was fortunate that he had not, for presently we met the owner of this captured elephant, accompanied by a number of natives. They had halted for a short time, and had secured the elephant to a tree by a rope round the neck and leg. He had been captured at Forfar. His tusks were just protruding. Just as I approached him a native ran up, saying, “Batal, batal howaga” (bad, bad, sir). The man was right, for this infant had already wounded five men severely. I, therefore, kept a respectfuldistance. The country through which we travelled to-day was very mountainous, and here and there big plains covered with bushes; still nothing like so bad as the road before we got to Amadeb.

April 8th.—Marched from 8 a.m. until 1 p.m., encamping at Gargee, situated on Khor-Baraker. We stay here to-night, hoping to secure another lion. Just after dinner we heard jackals barking very much like dogs.

A LION NEAR THE CAMP—THE MONKS OF CHARDAMBA—WE MEET ALI DHEEN PASHA, GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF THE SOUDAN—ARRIVAL AT KEREN, OR SANHÎT—THE PRIESTS AT KEREN—ACCOUNT OF KEREN—MERISSA—DRA, A DOMESTIC SLAVE, MADE FREE—DESCENT FROM SANHÎT TO THE ANSEBA VALLEY—THE BIRDS THERE—ALONG THE RIVER-BED OF THE LABAK—A BIG MARCH—MASSAWA—FAREWELL TO CAMELS—MASSAWA TO SOUÂKIN—TAKE IN CARGO—FAREWELL TO THE SOUDAN—ARRIVAL AT SUEZ.

April 9th.—About 9 o’clock we were off again, halting at 5.30 p.m. at Adatur, on the River Bogoo. A fine leopard and hyæna were shot last night. About 9 p.m., whilst I was writing my diary, alone in camp, the others having gone out in search of lions, a native came up to me, whispering, “Asset, asset, howaga” (a lion, a lion, sir). It was a lovely moonlight night, so light that I could see toread or write distinctly. I looked on to the river-bed in the direction indicated by the Arab, and there, 40 yards off, I plainly saw a noble-looking lion. I was not long in obtaining a rifle from my tent, and following him up the river-bed; but to no purpose, as he was too far off to risk a shot at him. Finally he turned off into a large palm grove on the opposite side, where, of course, I did not follow him. I am told that about 14 years ago all this neighbourhood belonged to Abyssinia, but now belongs to Egypt. From this spot, not very far off, we noticed a most precipitous mountain, called Chardamba, in Abyssinia; it is almost inaccessible, and can only be ascended by taking off one’s shoes and stockings, on account of the smoothness of the stones, at least, so Mr. Phillipps says. He and some of his party had the curiosity to climb it last year, and nearly got killed by stones being rolled down on them, for on the very summit of this mountain dwell some monks who have quite eschewed the pomps and vanities of this world. Many of them are withered, shrivelled old fellows who have lived there without once coming down for the space of 30 or 40 years, and, to all appearance, are one or two hundred years old. They possess a deep well, a chapel, each one a separate apartment or den, and they grow a little dhurra.

The next day we marched from 7.30 a.m. until5.30 p.m., encamping at Ashdera. On the road we met, about 1 p.m., Ali Dheen Pasha, the Governor-General of the Soudan (who succeeded Ali Riza Pasha, a most unpopular governor). He was coming from Massawa, and, I believe, going on to Kassala. We had a very long pow-wow with him. He informed us that our Abyssinian affair had created quite a sensation in Cairo, that the Minister of the Interior had telegraphed to him asking if we were safe, and that the Mudir of Kassala had been dismissed for not sending soldiers with us, which, by the way, was not his fault, for we would not have them. The palace at Massawa was built by Gordon Pasha when Governor of the Soudan. This Ali Dheen kindly placed at our disposal, until a boat could take us to Suez.

On the 10th April a march of about 10 miles only brought us to Keren, or Sanhît. Soon after our arrival Réschid Pasha sent an officer, whom Ali Dheen Pasha had sent on, to inquire if we had arrived safe, and were comfortable. From here we sent telegrams to Massawa respecting boats to Suez. Although our journey was a short distance, it took us a considerable time to accomplish it. I should think, for about the distance of a mile, we traversed a most precipitous ascent in a zig-zag fashion; this was not far from Keren. On reachingthe summit we found ourselves in quite a different kind of country. We soon paid a visit to the priests at Keren, who have an excellent garden. They kindly sent us some fine cabbages leeks, carrots, potatoes, and lettuce. As we had not seen anything of this kind for months they were, of course, a great luxury for dinner in the evening. In the afternoon the army doctor (who could speak French tolerably well) called on me, and as I had almost finished my campaign I gave him the greater part of the contents of my medicine chest. In the afternoon the tom-toms were set going, accompanied by the peculiar trilling note of the women, to express their joy at our arrival. They had heard that we had all been killed by the Abyssinians, our men also, many of whom came from here—Ali Bacheet, Dra, Girgas, and Mahomet Zanzimeer. The latter was thus called because he generally attended to our zanzimeers when we arrived in or started from camp. Pere Picard and another priest dined with us in the evening. After dinner about 60 children, well clothed, nice and clean, from their schools, came to witness the mysteries of the magic lantern; not only they, but Réschid Pasha, with a number of officers, came also, and were much pleased. When they took their departure rockets, together with red and blue fires, were let off.

Keren, or Sanhît, is the capital and only town of Bogos. It is 4,469 feet above the level of the sea, on the edge of the highlands of Abyssinia, and on one side of a table-land, about four miles long by two broad, surrounded by hills. Being situated in such a high position, it is healthy at all times of the year.

This elevated plateau has for its southern boundary the Abyssinian mountains, which come down to within about two miles of the town, which is built just outside the gates of the fort, and consists of two short, broad streets of very poor Greek stores, and some clusters of Abyssinian houses and Arab huts.

About a mile distant across the plateau is the French monastery. With the exception of the Pasha’s residence, the monastery and its adjacent buildings are the only respectable-looking habitations there. They have an Amharic printing press for publishing Bibles in the native tongue, schools for educating Abyssinian boys for the priesthood, also for the education of girls. When I was there, about four priests and a few sisters fed, clothed, lodged, and educated upwards of 80 boys and 50 girls. They had a good schoolroom, chapel, dormitories, pharmacy, and harmonium, which latter one of the sisters play. The children, who looked veryclean and orderly, sang very nicely a hymn in French for our especial benefit. These priests print, bind books, have carpenter’s and blacksmith’s shops, a dairy, vegetable garden, and appear to be a very useful community, exercising, I should say, a great deal of self-denial by residing in such a place as they do. They cannot certainly have a very festive time of it, for the Egyptian authorities regard them as spies, while, on the other hand, the Abyssinians, who distrust them, will not allow them into their country. I must speak of these priests as I found them. None of us were Roman Catholics, but they behaved with very great kindness to us; and we must award them a great degree of credit for the civilizing influence they exercised amongst these waifs and strays. The thought that occurred to me was that if Roman Catholic priests could be doing all this good, why not English missionaries also? There is generally a garrison of about 1,000 soldiers at Keren. There is scarcely any trade, as merchants will not risk their lives and goods, knowing the hostility of the Abyssinians, who are anxious for the recovery of Keren and the lost province of Bogos, added to which the Egyptian policy is to isolate Abyssinia, thereby preventing the importation of arms and ammunition for King John’s army. The Beni-Amirs and other neighbouring tribes, who areall owners of large herds, on which they wholly subsist, are the Egyptian subjects. Fuel is scarce, as it has to be brought from the Anseba valley, four miles distant. Water also has to be brought from a distance, but there is a well inside the fort which supplies the garrison. Dhurra is dear, as the continual dread of Abyssinian raids prevents people from cultivating, also from building decent houses. There are no camels, and very few horses and mules.

MOUNTAIN PASS NEAR KEREN OR SANHÊT

I once tasted at Kassala a kind of beer made from dhurra, called merissa, and thought it exceptionally nasty. It is probably the same as that mentioned by Herodotus, and is in common use in the Soudan and Upper Egypt. I was again induced by a native, who thought he would be attentive to me for some little professional attendance I had given to taste this vile liquid. Thinking, perhaps, it might not be so nauseous as my last dose, I drank some, and acted like a stoic and philosopher, for I did not exhibit any outward and visible sign of the rebellious feelings taking place within. But “no matter;” I mentally resolved that in whatever part of the Soudan I might at some future time find myself, I would never again degrade my esophagus by allowing any merissa to glide down it, for I would just as soon have takenone of my own vile black draughts, and infinitely have preferred a bottle of Bass’s pale ale. I have no hesitation in saying that if merissa—a very euphonious name, so much like Nerissa—was the usual beverage in England, the Blue Ribbon Army would find in me a very ardent supporter, as it is more unpalatable, thick stuff than schliva (a Bosnian drink, made from the juice of prunes, possessing a strong asafœtida flavour). Merissa is made from dhurra, which is allowed to germinate in the sun, then reduced to flour by hand-mills. This, again, is converted into dough, boiled, and left to ferment. I hope that if I ever again pollute my lips with merissa—not Nerissa—I may be served in the same way, that is, that I may germinate in the sun, be ground into powder, made into a pulp, boiled, and allowed to ferment.

To-day a circumstance occurred in camp, illustrative of a curious custom existing in the Soudan. Dra, who has been with us as a native servant ever since we left Kassala, is, we find, a slave. Some altercation took place this morning between Dra and another native, when the latter called him a slave. This excited Dra’s anger to such an extent that he talked about knifeing his accuser. However, Messrs. James and Co. enquired into the matter, and found that he was what they call aslave—what we should call a domestic slave or bondsman—and that it came about in this way—Dra’s father had, some time ago, “pinched” a cow,i.e., purloined it. He was ordered to pay back two within a month; failed to do so. The fine was then doubled every month, until he owed about a hundred cows. As there was just about as much probability of his being able to pay his fines as there would be of my paying the National Debt, he and all his children and children’s children became bondsmen and bondswomen of the creditor. Should Dra, who was single, desire to marry, he would find it difficult, under such circumstances, to obtain a wife; but should he succeed in doing so, and children be born to him, all the males would be slaves, and the femalescompelledto become public women. This little matter was talked over in the evening at the dinner table, when it was ascertained that his freedom could be secured by the payment of 35 dollars, which my colleagues gave to the priests to effect his freedom with. They say that papers will have to be made out and signed by the Pasha at Keren, and that on payment of the 35 dollars he will be free. A man then goes round the town with a trumpet, and proclaims the fact in all directions. This, I am told, is quite typical of the system in vogue here.

On the 11th of April, at 11 a.m., we were once more on the road to Massawa, encamping at 5 p.m. at Gubana. Ere we left Keren a donation in aid of the schools was given by the party, and the priests very kindly sent us a sack of potatoes, carrots, and parsnips. As we had been without fresh vegetables so long, these were really quite a treat. We descended from Sanhît into the Anseba valley. About a mile from the town, in the lowlands, were the gardens of the priests, full of vegetables, growing in the most luxuriant manner. The trees, too, flourished, and were covered with beautiful green foliage. Here, on reaching the river-bed, we found a little water actually on the surface.

April 12th.—To-day we travelled 10 hours through quite a different kind of country to what we have lately been accustomed. A great variety of lovely plumaged birds are abundant in the Anseba valley. Even the doves here are tinged with bright yellow, green and blue. I managed to secure some specimens of them, the brilliant plumaged rollo-birds, paroquets, and a fine eagle. Soon after starting our route lay up the side of a frightfully precipitous mountain. The ascent was made by a most tortuous pathway, where in very many places the camels walked on the brink of a fearful abyss. Having at last reached the summitof this mountain in safety, our descent was made by an equally horrible pathway, after which we travelled for the greater part of our journey along a dry river-bed, surrounded on each side by steep, precipitous mountains covered with large cactus trees in full bloom, and gaunt, leafless, but enormous baobob trees, and, of course, the never-to-be-forgotten prickly mimosas, but I saw much less gum arabic exuding from them there than I did in the Basé country. Large tamarisk trees, also, were numerous. The branches of all kinds of trees lay scattered about in the greatest profusion, the natives having chopped them off for the goats, sheep, and cows to feed on.

On the 13th April, another 10 hours’ march brought us to Kalamet, where we pitched our tents for the night, having travelled through very wild and picturesque scenery, the greater part of the distance being along the river-bed of the Labak. Water was very near to, and in some places on, the surface. For a distance of about two miles we journeyed along a very deep pass; on either side of us extremely rugged, lofty, precipitous crags, clothed with cactus trees and other bushes, through which we occasionally discerned jackals and wild goats peeping at us with astonishment. Scarcelyany birds of any description were seen this day. The pass, I believe, is called El Ain; a representation of it appeared some months ago in theGraphic. Our camping and marching, like Bedouin Arabs, is now nearly at an end, for in another day or two we expect to reach Massawa, once more set our eyes on the Red Sea, and a steamer, don decent apparel, and return to civilized life.

Our next day, April 14th, was occupied in marching to near Kamfar, a distance of about 27 miles. This was an easy road for the camels, as the greater part of the distance was along level ground, covered with mimosas, more like the desert near Souâkin. We came across a few jackals, ariels, gazelles, falcons, and extremely beautiful diminutive sun-birds, so small that they ought to be shot with sand.

April 16th.—At 7.30 a.m. we once more, and for the last time, mounted our camels, and made a good march of about 32 miles, arriving at Massawa at 8.30 p.m. Some of our Arabs had never before had an opportunity of seeing the Red Sea; now that they did, their delight seemed great. We should not have made such a long march to-day but that a messenger had been sent from Massawa to meet us with the information that an Italiansteamer (Rubattino line) would be leaving on the morrow, and that if we missed that we might, perhaps, have to wait two or three weeks ere we should get another. However, we did not intend to wait, for we should have chartered a stambouk from there to Aden, there catching a P. and O. boat for Suez.

Massawa, the principal sea-port of Abyssinia, is on a small barren coral island in the Red Sea, about a mile long, by 400 yards broad, at the northern extremity of the Bay of Arkeeko. It is connected with the mainland by a causeway a mile in length, built across the shallow water. There are barracks and huts for about 1,000 soldiers. It is badly off for water. This has to be carried two miles to the town. The town is built partly of stone and coral, but most of the houses are constructed of poles and bent grass, and surrounded by a reed fence. The most considerable buildings are the mosques, the houses of the traders, and a few warehouses, which are built of coral, and the bazaar.

The surrounding country is little cultivated, and industry paralysed by fear of raids by the Abyssinians. But little trade is done with the Soudan; formerly a brisk trade was done with slaves, andthat seems likely to be the case again. Most of the imports come from Abyssinia. They are grain, gold, cotton, manufactures, glass-wares, spices, arms, cutlery, hides, butter, wines and spirits. Principal exports, rhinoceros-horns, gold, ivory, honey and wax.

As usual, vexatious export and import duties are imposed by Egypt. No guns or powder are allowed to be imported. There are very few camels, and horses and mules are scarce and dear. The population has been estimated at about 4,000. The island is dependent on Egypt, and is ruled by a governor appointed by the Khedive. The chief inhabitants of Massawa are a few Greeks and Italians, an Italian and French Consul, one Englishman, and a small colony of Banians, through whose hands almost all the trade passes.

On arriving at Massawa I took my leave of camel riding, and cannot say I was sorry, having ridden, probably about 2,000 miles on caravan camels, which roared at me when I mounted them, roared when I dismounted, roared if I passed them, and roared if I looked at them. My knickerbockers were just about done for, and I should not like to say how many hours I had spent in repairing them, on two occasions, with a girba cutup. The Bey soon put in an appearance; had a bit of a pow-wow; gave us coffee and cigarettes, then showed us to the palace, where we had our camp-beds once more unfolded.

April 17th.—So much had to be done to-day—paying servants, selling camels, and tents, &c., that we found it impossible to get away. Word to this effect was sent to the Italian steamer, so the Captain has postponed his departure until to-morrow. Abdullah, a negro, who had always seen to getting my camel ready, helping to pitch and take down my tent, and otherwise proved a faithful henchman, presented me with his spear, and kissed my hand. I rewarded him with a small pin-fire revolver, 50 cartridges, a good knife, a razor, two dollars, and my knickerbockers. His delight was unbounded, possibly at receiving the last-named unmentionables. I am told that at an island near here a considerable pearl fishery is carried on, and that at another island close by large quantities of fine melons are grown.

THE CAUSEWAY AT MASSAWAH.

At 8.15 a.m. the next morning we took our leave of the Soudan. The Bey had received orders to pay us every attention. He accordingly sent a gunboat, manned by sailors of the navy, with an officer, and we were at once rowed off to oursteamer, bound for Suez. In the evening of the next day, at 5.30 p.m., we anchored at Souâkin. I and two others went ashore and spent the evening with Mr. Bulay (who was always most kind and obliging), returning to the ship at 10.30 p.m. All sorts of dreadful reports about the attack of the Dembelas on us had reached him, which, fortunately, were not true. Other startling news he gave us, such as that the Queen had been again shot at; that Arabi Pasha was getting a power in the State, and that the Khedive was likely to be dethroned, and Arabi substituted.

About an hour before we dropped anchor at Souâkin some of our boxes arrived from Kassala. We are likely to remain here two or three days taking in cargo. The day before we left Souâkin a French Consul and two American gentlemen (a doctor and missionary, who were at Shepheard’s Hotel in November last at the same time that we were), came on board. They had been to the White Nile. We have quite a menagerie on board—parrots, paroquets, tiger-cats, jackals, monkeys, baboons, extraordinary looking geese, two enormous tortoises, and other animals. We took on board a good many cattle for Suez, and left the Soudan forgood at 9 a.m. next day, April 22nd, arriving, after a very pleasant, but warm voyage, at Suez about 3 a.m. At 8 we went ashore and breakfasted at the Suez Hotel. Of course Mr. Clarke, the excellent and obliging manager of this hotel, related the usual tale of our horrible massacre, &c.

SUEZ TO CAIRO—ALEXANDRIA—ON BOARD THE “MONGOLIA”—PASSENGERS ON BOARD—HIBERNIAN HUMOUR—VENICE—THE PIAZZA OF ST. MARK—THE CAMPANILE—THE PIAZETTA—THE ZECCA, OR MINT—THE PALACE OF THE DOGES—ST. MARK’S—THE ARSENAL.

April 27th.—Heads and skins had to be sorted out, turpentined, packed and sent by sea from Suez, together with Mahoom and Girgas, the latter an Abyssinian whom Mr. Phillipps is taking home with him as a servant. On the 28th we left Suez for Cairo, arriving there at about 5 p.m., where I found several letters awaiting me—some of rather old dates. Of course the wildest reports of our massacre had reached Cairo, and been the topic of the day at the time. Our stay in Cairo was of short duration this time, as we found the Peninsular and Oriental Company’s steamboatMongoliawouldbe leaving Alexandria on the 4th May. Messrs. Colvin and Aylmer went on to India, but the rest of us started for England.

Leaving Alexandria on the 4th, with a goodly number of passengers, about 120, we had a pleasant voyage to Venice, passing on the 5th the Morea, Navarino, and Caudia, on the 6th Xante and Cephalonia, and on the 7th arrived at Brindisi, viewing Montenegro and Corfu in the distance. There we got rid of the mails, and fully half the passengers, and at 6 p.m. on the 8th steamed up the grand canal, and soon arrived at Venice, the Queen of the Adriatic, the home of poetry and song. How pleasant it was to find myself, after all this Arab life, comfortably housed at the Hotel d’Italie, amongst civilized people, I will leave the reader to judge. There were a great many notables on board, amongst them several ladies connected with officials in Cairo. We knew that matters were a little unsettled in Egypt at this time, and so drew our own conclusions. These ladies were being sent out of the way, and within 3 or 4 weeks after I had seen the last of the great square in Alexandria it was in ruins. There were on board big men and little men, both in stature and in their own estimation. There were fat men and thin men, agreeable and chatty men, disagreeable and morose men, humbleand meek men, busy and sleepy men, easy-going looking men, one or two of the “Ah! I see, thanks, I’ll not twouble you” kind of fellows, Colonels, Lieut.-Colonels, and other officers, Governors and Judges returning home on leave of absence, and genial, good-hearted, jolly sort of fellows. I acted here, as I always do at home, avoided the starchy “Ah! I see—not-twouble-you kind of fellows,” full of their own importance, whose brains are concentrated in their nicely-polished boots, &c., and fraternised with the sociable, sensible, good-hearted kind. Amongst them was one of my own profession, brimful of Hibernian humour and mirth. He was a brigade-surgeon in the 68th in India, where he had been for 25 years, and was now on leave of absence. Dr. Kilkelly and I conceived a mutual regard for one another. He and I, with a Judge from Cawnpore, a Colonel and Lieut.-Colonel, generally got together on the deck, enjoying ourselves very comfortably until we parted. I cannot remember all the jokes and witticisms of our friend, Dr. Kilkelly, but I do remember one circumstance that amused us all immensely, and caused great laughter, as much in the way of saying it as the thing that was said. We had been having a great talk about the Soudan. When I happened to say “Two of our party are going on from Cairoto India, and will not be in England until this time next year,” the doctor exclaimed, “Sure, ye don’t say they are going on there now? I could not have thought a man in his senses would be going to India now. Do ye know what it is like this time of the year?”

“Hot, I suppose,” said I, whilst the others smoked their pipes and looked amused, evidently expecting some “rale Irish joke.”

“Well, then, I’ll tell ye,” said our humorous friend, with a merry twinkle in his eye, and a really comic aspect; “d’ye know, docthor, when I have been in India this time of the year I have often made the natives dig a grave for me to lie in, half fill it with grass and pour buckets of cold wather on me to keep me from melting. I’ll tell ye another thing—cholera is so bad at this time of the year, that, by the Viceroy’s orders, coffins of all sizes are kept ready at the railway stations, and when the ticket-collector goes round, saying, ‘Yere tickets, plase,’ he finds a poor divil in the corner who does not respond; looks at him, finds him dead, pulls him out, finds a coffin the right size, puts him in, and by St. Pathrick he’s buried before the sun sets. Now what d’ye think of that? That’s what India’s like this time of the year.”

Of course we all roared with laughter at thevoluble and comical way in which this was said, and I mentally made a note that I should not start for India in May for my first visit.

Amongst our passengers were two sons of Sir Salar Jung, the Prime Minister of the Nizam of Hyderabad, on a visit to England. The elder one, though young, was a very Colossus, and an extremely intelligent, agreeable fellow, who spoke English fairly well, and was very chatty. He invited me, if I visited India, to visit him, and promised I should have some tiger-hunting. Whether I shall ever do so, or he would remember his promise, I don’t know—probably not. Dr. Kilkelly and I put up at the same hotel (the Hôtel d’Italie), and spent a few days very pleasantly. I cannot say I should like to live in a place where, if I enter my front door, I must step out of a gondola, or if I want to visit a friend I must cross the street in a gondola; but it is a charming place to pay a visit to for a few days, especially for a person with a romantic and poetic turn of mind, and although romance has, to a great extent been knocked out of me, I still have sufficient of the poetic temperament to have been highly pleased with my visit to Venice, short though it was.

Pursuing the course I have hitherto adopted, I will not leave Venice without a brief sketch of itand my visits to various places of great interest, although, perhaps, repeating an oft-told tale. The man who ventures on a description of a visit to Venice ought to be thoroughly imbued with romance and poetry ere he can do justice to his subject. Under such circumstances I cannot hope to rival many another; but, as the Yankees say, “I’ll do my level best.” On the evening of my arrival, I met, by appointment, one of the officers of theMongolia, whom I accompanied to St. Mark’s Place. The side of the Piazza facing St. Mark is a line of modern building erected by the French, somewhat in the style of the Palais Royal at Paris, but yet having some sort of keeping with the edifices on the south side. They are termed the Procuratie Nuove, and form the south side, the Procuratie Vecchie the north side. The end is composed of a French façade uniting the two. Near the east end of the Procuratie Nuove, just by the point where it makes an angle with the Piazetta, stands the Campanile of St. Mark. It is, in fact, the belfry of the Cathedral, although it stands some considerable distance from it. The separation of the belfry from the church is very common in Italy, and there are a few instances of it in our own country. On the summit of the Campanile is a large open belfry to which you ascend in the inside by means of a series of inclinedplanes. The sides of the belfry are formed by sixteen arches, four facing each quarter of the heavens. A gallery with a parapet runs round the outside. I was told that the First Napoleon ascended the inclined plane by means of a donkey. I, however, had to walk it, and was well recompensed for my trouble by the magnificent view obtained from the summit. Southward lies the noble Adriatic, with the Pyrenees to the right; northward the Tyrolese Alps; immediately spreading round this singular post of observation lies the city of Venice, map-like, with its canals and neighbouring isles; and just under the eye, to the east, is St. Mark’s Church, considerably below, with its fine domes, its four bronze horses, its numerous pinnacles, and in front of it its three tall, red standards.

It is impossible to describe the effect produced on the mind, on a summer’s evening, as the sun is going down in his glory over the mainland beyond the lagoons, lighting them up with his parting rays, while the murmurs of the crowd assembled in St. Mark’s Place ascend like the hum of bees around the hive door, and the graceful gondolas are seen noiselessly gliding along the canals. Traversing the Piazza, we find ourselves in the Piazetta running down from the east end of the great one by St. Mark’s Church to the water-side, where the eyeranges over the lagoons and isles. The next side of this open space contains a continuation of the walk under arcades, which surround St. Mark’s Place. The upper part exhibits a specimen of the Italian style, designed by Sansovino. The whole belonged to the royal palace, or Palace of the Doges, which extends along the south and west sides of the Piazza. Turning round the west corner of the Piazetta, on the Mole, with the canal in front, we see another of Sansovino’s works, called the Zecca, or Mint, from which the gold coin of the Republic derived the name of Zecchino. In front of the open space and landing steps of the Piazetta are two lofty columns, which appear so prominently in the pictures of that part of Venice. They are of granite, and came from Constantinople—trophies of Venetian victories in the Turkish wars. The right hand column, looking towards the sea, is surmounted by a figure of St. Mark, standing on a crocodile. The left hand is surmounted by the lion of St. Mark. The west front of the ducal palace forms the east side of the Piazetta; the south front runs along the whole, and looks out upon the sea. They are its most ancient portions. The front, overlooking the Piazetta, is composed of two rows of arcades, one above the other; the lower a colonnade, the upper a gallery, surmounted by a verylarge and lofty surface of wall of a reddish marble, pierced by fine large windows. One gentleman says of it, “The ducal palace is even more ugly than anything I have previously mentioned.”

Mr. Ruskin, on the other hand, says that, “Though in many respects imperfect, it is a piece of rich and fantastic colour, as lovely a dream as ever filled the imagination, and the proportioning of the columns and walls of the lofty story is so lovely and so varied that it would need pages of description before it could be fully understood.”

Having done the Campanile, and strolled round the Piazza and Piazetta, we took our seats in the Piazza. On the west and south sides, as well as the north, the lower part of the buildings under the arcades is appropriated to shops or cafés. The latter are particularly celebrated. Towards sunset the area of St. Mark’s Place is overspread with tables and chairs, where ladies and gentlemen are seated at their ease, as if in a drawing-room, taking refreshments. A space in the middle is left for promenaders, and when the military band is playing, which it does two or three times a week, the concourse is immense, and the scene very lively and charming, enabling one to realise the saying of Bonaparte, “The Place of St. Mark is a saloon of which the sky is worthy to serve as a ceiling.”

Having enjoyed the sweet strains discoursed by the military band to our heart’s content, we took our departure, my companion to his ship, and I to my hotel.

The following day was occupied in various ways by Dr. Kilkelly and myself. In the first place we, of course, paid a visit to the Palace of the Doges. If those walls could speak, how many tales of horror and cruelty they could unfold! Our visit to some portions of the Palace enabled us to vividly imagine some of them. Of course, in many of the trials here, whatever may be thought of the sentence inflicted, guilt, and that of a heavy kind, was proved against the accused. The place was not always a slaughter-house for innocence, a butchery for men guilty of light offence. Grave crimes against the State were here disclosed, and the memory especially dwells on that night in the April of 1855, when Marino Faliero, a traitor to the Government of which he was the head, was arraigned before his old companions in office, and when the sword of justice, covered with crape, was placed on the throne which he had been wont to fill. A very minute inspection of the Doge’s Palace was not practicable, for two reasons; one was want of time, the other the impatience of my friend. Whilst in the Council Chamber of the Senate,and for a minute or so looking at the largest painting I ever saw in my life, “The Day of Judgment,” my hasty friend seized me by the arm, exclaiming, “Come along, do;” and soon afterwards, when I was deeply engaged in the futile endeavourapparentlyof dislocating my neck by looking at the painted ceilings, and getting up the requisite enthusiasm for the marvellous productions of some of the masterpieces of Titian, Paulo Veronese, and Tintoretto, I was told to “Come along, docthor. Sure ye’ll have a crick in yer neck, and not be able to eat yer dinner at all, at all, if ye stand looking at the ceiling in that kind of way;” and so I allowed my volatile friend to rush me through the Palace of the Doges, coming away with a hazy recollection of thousands of books, wondrous paintings, the Council Chamber of the Senate, before whom an undefended prisoner had formerly appeared; the Council of Ten, where he generally got deeper in the mire; the Council of Three, whose decrees were like the laws of the Medes and Persians; and, finally, the dungeon, or condemned cell, just by one end of the Bridge of Sighs, where he was strangled within, I think, three days of his condemnation. I was also shown a dungeon, but not so low down as the condemned cell, where no ray of light could be admitted,but where the poor wretch had a stone slab, such as we have in our cellars, to lie upon, and let into the wall was an opening through which the Grand Inquisitor could calmly gaze on the torturing process produced by the rack and thumb-screw, and other ingenious but painful arrangements constructed for blood-letting. Some of the blood of deceased victims was shown to me on the walls, possibly like the blood of Rizzio on the floor in Holyrood Palace, renewed once a year. Of course there were many objects of great interest in the Doge’s Palace that I should have, no doubt, made many notes of had I been by myself, but mental notes were all I was permitted to take. Many people give a free rein to their fancy, and argue much on the origin of species. This is a free country, and I may form my own idea of the General Post-Office. Suppose I were to say that it originated from the Doge’s Palace? but fortunately for us, with a more agreeable class of men as letter-carriers. I remember to have seen a lion, griffin, or “goblin damned,” at the head of one staircase, with open mouth, whose sole object was to receive accusations, true and false, against citizens of the State, and woe betide him if he came before the Council of Three, from whom there was no appeal. Here our accusers have to prove us guilty, there the accused had to prove himself innocent;and I doubt not that, in those dark ages of cruelty, such a mode had its inconveniences, necessitating a considerable amount of trouble for nothing on the part of the accused.

We passed on from the Doge’s Palace to St. Mark’s. This church is very ancient; it was begun in the year 829, and after a fire rebuilt in the year 976. It was ornamented with mosaics and marble in 1071. Its form is of Eastern origin, and it is said its architects, who were ordered by the Republic to spare no expense, and to erect an edifice superior in size and splendour to anything else, took Santa Sophia, in Constantinople, for their model, and seem to have imitated its form, its domes, and its bad taste. But if riches can compensate the absence of beauty, the Church of St. Mark possesses a sufficient share to supply the deficiency, as it is ornamented with the spoils of Constantinople, and displays a profusion of the finest marbles, of alabaster, onyx, emerald, and of all the splendid jewellery of the East. The celebrated bronze horses stand on the portico facing the Piazza. These horses are supposed to be the work of Lysippus; they ornamented successively different triumphal arches at Rome, were transported by Constantine to his new city, and conveyed thence by Venetians, when they took and plundered it in 1206. They were erected on marble pedestals over the porticoof St. Mark, where they stood nearly six hundred years, a trophy of the power of the Republic, until they were removed to Paris by Napoleon in the year 1797, and placed on stone pedestals behind the Palace of the Tuileries, where they remained some time, until they were again restored to Venice. In St. Mark’s I was shown two pillars of alabaster, two of jasper, and two of verde antique, said to have been brought from King Solomon’s temple, also two magnificent doors, inlaid with figures of gold and silver, and a very large crucifix of gold and silver, brought from Santa Sophia. I was also shown the tomb of St. Mark the Evangelist. How true all this is I cannot say, but perhaps many of my readers would like to know why St. Mark should be so much thought of in Venice, so much so as to become the patron saint, and have his name given to the most celebrated and splendid of its churches. Over a thousand years ago—to be precise, in the year eight hundred and twenty-nine—two Venetian merchants, named Bano and Rustico, then at Alexandria, contrived, either by bribery or by stratagem, to purloin the body of St. Mark, at that time in the possession of Mussulmen, and to convey it to Venice. On its arrival it was transported to the Ducal Palace, and deposited, by the then Doge, in his own chapel. St. Mark was shortly after declared the patron and protectorof the Republic; and the lion, which, in the mystic vision of Ezekiel, is supposed to represent this evangelist, was emblazoned on its standards and elevated on its towers. The Church of St. Mark was erected immediately after this event, and the saint has ever since retained his honours. But the reader will learn with surprise that notwithstanding these honours the body of the Evangelist was, in a very short space of time, either lost orprivately soldby a tribune of the name of Carozo, who had usurped the dukedom, and to support himself against the legitimate Doge, is supposed to have plundered the treasury and to have alienated some of the most valuable articles. Since that period the existence of the body of St. Mark has never been publicly ascertained, though the Venetians firmly maintain that it is still in their possession, and, as I said before, positively show the tomb which, they say, covers him.

Our next visit was to the arsenal. This occupies an entire island, and is fortified, not only by its ramparts, but by the surrounding sea; it is spacious, commodious, and magnificent.

Before the gate stand two vast pillars, one on each side, and two immense lions of marble, which formerly adorned the Piræus of Athens. They are attended by two others of smaller size, all, as theinscription informs us, “Triumphali manu Piræo direpta” (“Torn from the Piræus by the hand of Victory”). The staircase in the principal building is of white marble, down which the French (who invaded Venice) rolled cannon balls, an act of wanton mischief quite inexcusable, at the same time they dismantled the Bucentaur, the famous State galley of the Republic—a very Vandal-like act.

Venice, when in the zenith of its fame, might justly be said to bear a striking resemblance to Rome. The same spirit of liberty, the same patriot passion, the same firmness, and the same wisdom that characterized the ancient Romans seemed to pervade every member of the rising State, and at that time it might truly be said of Venice—

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