plateau extended for a mile or two, and then rose into lofty rounded mountains; more to the left it stretched away for many miles, and the view was bounded by the extraordinary fantastic range of peaks of which I have already spoken. It was a most glorious view, and, broken by the lights and shadows thrown by a sinking sun, will always remain in my recollection as the most extraordinary and magnificent landscape I ever saw. We arrived at Fokado at half-past four, getting in half an hour before our baggage, which had been eight hours and a half upon the road, and quite determined that in future, whatever labour it involved, we would not again let it out of our sight. The break-down of a baggage-animal, if one is at hand oneself to see that one’s servants instantly and properly reload it, is an affair of ten minutes at most; but if the servants are left to their own devices, it will occupy over half-an-hour. First of all there are ten minutes wasted in deploring the calamity, another ten in undoing the cords, and at least twenty more in repacking and getting under way. Fokado, like all our camping-stations, lies in a slight basin; this basin is, like the rest of the plateau-land, covered with long grass. A dozen men with scythes could cut enough in a day to supply a cavalry regiment; but they would have to be very careful to choose such portions of the plain as are not covered with stones. As it is, the grass-cutters are supplied with very small sickles, which do very well to hack off a bunch of grass, but which are of little use towards getting in any large quantity. Fortunately the natives cut and bring it in in considerable amount, and I am able to purchase an abundance from them; for no forage is issued by the commissariat for our baggage-animals, and it would be out of the question to expect our syces to go out and cut grass after a long and fatiguing day’s march. There is a well at Fokado from which plenty of cool and moderately-pure water is obtained. After having seen my tent erected and my rations drawn and on the fire, I walked on with two or three officers of the 33d to see the church. It stood, as most of the churches here do, upon slightly-rising ground, and was surrounded by a high wall, with the gateway entering beneath a sort of tower. Having paid my dollar—the modest tariff here demanded for admission—I entered the enclosure. It was in a state of the utmost disorder; loose boulders and stones were strewn everywhere, and I saw no signs whatever of graves. This was the case in the other three churches I have since visited, and is the more singular as the graveyards I saw and described coming up the pass, and which were those of the Mahometan tribes who inhabit that part of the country, were so carefully constructed and so religiously preserved. I have not seen a single grave since I entered the Christian part of Abyssinia. Near the church-door was a framework of three cross-poles, and