Towards evening it was usual whilst I lived at Miriam’s, for me, attended by Walderheros, to walk to the edge of the precipitous face, looking towards the east, of the rock upon which Aliu Amba is built. Here, upon a large stone, high above the narrow winding footpath, that leads from one end of the ridge to the other, I would sit looking upon the narrow but fertile valley in front, formed by the junction of the two flanking streams that nearly encircled the hill. Numerous little tributaries on each side had formed small pyramidal knolls, carefully cultivated to the very tops. One in particular, higher than the rest, was crowned with a snug-looking village, the conical roof of the largest house in which, pointed into an exact cone the figure of the hill. The name of this village was Sar-amba; the road to Ankobar skirts along its base, leaving on the right hand the town and hill of Aliu Amba. To the left of my position, the peak of the stateprison hill of Gauncho, and the seat of the Wallasmah Mahomed, was just visible over a continuous range of hills, that diminished in elevation as they approached nearer to the town of Farree, and which marked very well the original level of the once sloping talus, or scarp, which connected the high table land of Abyssinia with the low plains around the Hawash. Whilst sitting one evening upon my usual stone, the loud whining appeal of two turbaned dirty figures announced the presence of begging monks, an order very numerous in Shoa. Their long prayer to the Almighty was still going on, and I in utter ignorance for what purpose two robust and healthy men could be addressing me in such a monotonous duet. Walderheros pretended to know nothing about them, and had it not been for some women who stood by amusing themselves with the appearance of the new come Gypt, or Egyptian, the monks would have had as much chance of obtaining alms from the rocks around me, as of opening my heart or understanding to their appeal. “Ahmulah, ahmulah!” cried two or three of the women, and I then found out that I must bestow in charity a salt piece, the name of which had already become familiar to me. Walderheros soon came back from the errand I had sent him upon, to procure the bulky coin, which was, however, refused by the surly monks, with a look and grimace that said quite enough, as they duly measured the ahmulah with a span, and found that it was too short for their taste. Again Walderheros was sent to the skin bag in which was deposited the remainder of my last change for a dollar. The cunning fellow, however, instead of procuring another, as he told me afterwards, brought back the same ahmulah again, and as the monks did not think it decent to return it a second time, they growled out the usual blessing of peace and good fortune for me, with an imprecating curse for the benefit of Walderheros, and then walked away. FOOTNOTES: