Ethiopia -- Description and travel -- Early works to 1800; Lobo, Jerónimo, 1596?-1678 -- Travel -- Ethiopia
their swearing is this: they set a sheep in the midst of them, and rub it
over with butter, the heads of families who are the chief in the nation
lay their hands upon the head of the sheep, and swear to observe their
promise. This oath (which they never violate) they explain thus: the
sheep is the mother of them who swear; the butter betokens the love
between the mother and the children, and an oath taken on a mother's head
is sacred. Upon the security of this oath, I made them acquainted with
my intention, an intention, they told me, it was impossible to put in
execution. From the moment I left them they said they could give me no
assurance of either life or liberty, that they were perfectly informed
both of the roads and inhabitants, that there were no fewer than nine
nations between us and Abyssinia, who were always embroiled amongst
themselves, or at war with the Abyssins, and enjoyed no security even in
their own territories. We were now convinced that our enterprise was
impracticable, and that to hazard ourselves amidst so many insurmountable
difficulties would be to tempt Providence; despairing, therefore, that I
should ever come this way to Abyssinia, I resolved to return back with my
intelligence to my companion, whom I had left at Pate.
I cannot, however, leave this country without giving an account of their
manner of blood-letting, which I was led to the knowledge of by a violent
fever, which threatened to put an end to my life and travels together.
The distress I was in may easily be imagined, being entirely destitute of
everything necessary. I had resolved to let myself blood, though I was
altogether a stranger to the manner of doing it, and had no lancet, but
my companions hearing of a surgeon of reputation in the place, went and
brought him. I saw, with the utmost surprise, an old Moor enter my
chamber, with a kind of small dagger, all over rusty, and a mallet in his
hand, and three cups of horn about half a foot long. I started, and
asked what he wanted. He told me to bleed me; and when I had given him
leave, uncovering my side, applied one of his horn cups, which he stopped
with chewed paper, and by that means made it stick fast; in the same
manner he fixed on the other two, and fell to sharpening his instrument,
assuring me that he would give me no pain. He then took off his cups,
and gave in each place a stroke with his poignard, which was followed by
a stream of blood. He applied his cups several times, and every time
struck his lancet into the same place; having drawn away a large quantity
of blood, he healed the orifices with three lumps of tallow. I know not
whether to attribute my cure to bleeding or my fear, but I had from that
time no return of my fever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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