The Highlands of EthiopiaHarris, William Cornwallis, Sir
History
The Highlands of Ethiopia
Harris, William Cornwallis, Sir
Ethiopia -- Description and travel
The maid tended her father's flocks in the vale of Errur, which forms a
constant scene of predatory incursion on the part of the ruthless
savages that hover round the border. When least expected, the Galla
war-hawks of the adjacent mountains were wont to stoop from their rocky
fastnesses, and to sweep away the riches of the Woema. The treacherous
Eesah, although ready to extend the hand which should have denoted
friendship, was nothing loath to the appropriation of other men's
chattels; and throughout all the nomade Adel hordes, whose tents were
erected during the more sultry months, the feud and the desultory
skirmish favoured the inroads of the foe. Amongst the surrounding
clans, even her own tribe was not notorious for its honesty, and by
frequent depredations abroad, it invited the foray of reprisal. Thus
the brawl and the mortal encounter would follow the stillness of
indolent existence with a rapidity not less startling than frequent, and
none knew what the next hour might bring forth.
But fear had no place in the breast of the daughter of old Ali. Nursed
in the lap of strife, the Bedouin blood of her roving sire coursed
through her young veins, and she pursued her Arcadian occupation beneath
the spreading boughs of the venerable acacia, chanting to her gazelle
the wild ditty that revealed the thraldom of her heart, or listening to
the bleat of her black-faced lambs from the Hejaz. Often had the shrill
war-whoop rung through the wild valley, and the rush of the gathering
warriors who flew to answer the summons, arrested her plaintive song,
but only lately had it caused her to spring to her feet with a bosom
throbbing audibly; and now she would sigh as she sank again upon the
smooth bank that formed her favourite seat, for the swain for whom her
soft eyes had been strained across the flickering desert was not among
the number of those that had swept past, and she knew not why, nor
whither he had gone.
Many were the ardent suitors who had wooed the hand of the blooming
Aylia, and often-times had she been sought from her avaricious father,
who viewed the still expanding attractions of his daughter as a certain
source of increase to his ill-gotten and idolised wealth. None,
however, had yet been able to produce the price set upon the damsel's
charms, neither had any possessed an advocate in her eloquence. Her
heart had already been tacitly relinquished, but her hand she knew to be
in the gift of her sire, and therefore not her own to bestow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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