It has already been stated that Lord Valentia published "Voyages and Travels to Abyssinia," etc., although he had merely landed at the port of Masuah, which does not belong to Abyssinia; his evidence, therefore, cannot carry with it much weight, and still with his own secretary he may be allowed to dispute. "The night," says his lordship, "was cooler, and I was not so restless; in the morning I had no fever, and at dinner some appetite. I viewed from my window the island of Valentia, distant about five leagues; Ras Gidden, and the chain of mountains that lines the coast of the Red Sea from this place to the plains of Egypt. Behind these the summit of Tarenta peeps out, and gives credit, by its height, to Mr. Bruce's account of the difficulty he had in ascending it." But Mr. Salt absolutely forgets himself; for in vol. iii., p. 12, speaking of "a semicircular ridge of mountains, over which there is but one pass by which it is possible to ascend," he says, "in steepness and ruggedness this hill may be compared to Tarenta, though its height is considerably inferior." And in his "Travels to Abyssinia," page 201, he again says, "on the 10th the party ascended Senafé, which is said to be full as high, _though not so difficult to pass, as Tarenta_." The trifling, cavilling remarks made against Bruce's character by Lord Valentia and Mr. Salt, admitting his history of Abyssinia, as they do, and his general descriptions, to be correct, remind one of Shakspeare's description of the sun: "When envious clouds seem bent to dim his glory, And check his bright course to the occident." The plain on the summit of the mountain of Tarenta was in many places sown with wheat, which was just ready to be cut. The grain appeared to be clean and of a good colour, but inferior in size to that of Egypt. It did not, however, grow thick, nor was its stalk above fourteen inches high. The water here was very bad, being only what remained of the rain that had been collected in hollows of the rocks, or in pits artificially prepared for it. Being greatly fatigued, Bruce and his party pitched their tents on the top of the mountain. The night felt dreadfully cold to them, accustomed as they had been to the heat of the low country of Masuah: the dew fell heavily, yet the sky was so clear that the smallest stars were discernible.