The Long Straggling Line Gave A "Wide Berth" To
The Doughty Hirsi And His Berteris, Whose Camp-Fires Were Clearly Visible
In The Morning Grey.
The air was raw; piles of purple cloud settled upon
the hills, whence cold and damp gusts swept the plain; sometimes we had a
shower, at others a Scotch mist, which did not fail to penetrate our thin
raiment.
My people trembled, and their teeth chattered as though they were
walking upon ice. In our slow course we passed herds of quagga and
gazelles, but the animals were wild, and both men and mules were unequal
to the task of stalking them. About midday we closed up, for our path
wound through the valley wooded with Acacia,--fittest place for an
ambuscade of archers. We dined in the saddle on huge lumps of sun-dried
beef, and bits of gum gathered from the trees.
Having at length crossed the prairie without accident, the caravan people
shook our hands, congratulated one another, and declared that they owed
their lives to us. About an hour after sunset we arrived at Abtidon's
home, a large kraal at the foot of the Konti cone: fear of lions drove my
people into the enclosure, where we passed a night of scratching. I was
now haunted by the dread of a certain complaint for which sulphur is said
to be a specific. This is the pest of the inner parts of Somali-land; the
people declare it to arise from flies and fleas:
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