Achmet now came into the tent, called for coffee, and, while drinking it, said, “You are sufficiently persuaded that I am your friend; if you are not, it is too late now to convince you. It is necessary, however, to explain the reasons of what you see. You are not to go to Dobarwa, though it is the best road, the safest being preferable to the easiest. Saloomé knows the road by Dixan as well as the other. You will be apt to curse me when you are toiling and sweating ascending Taranta, the highest mountain in Abyssinia, and on this account worthy your notice. You are then to consider if the fatigue of body you then suffer in that passage is not overpaid by the absolute safety you will find yourselves in. Dobarwa belongs to the Naybe, and I cannot answer for the orders he may have given to his own servants; but Dixan is mine, although the people are much worse than those of Dobarwa. I have written to my officers there; they will behave the better to you for this; and, as you are strong and robust, the best I can do for you is to send you by a rugged road, and a safe one.” Achmet again gave his orders to Saloomé, and we, all rising, said the fedtah, or _prayer of peace_; which being over, his servant gave him a narrow web of muslin, which, with his own hands, he wrapped round my head in the manner the better sort of Mahometans wear it at Dixan. He then parted, saying, “He that is your enemy is mine also; you shall hear of me by Mahomet Gibberti.” This finished a series of trouble and vexation, not to say danger, superior to any thing I ever before had experienced, and of which the bare recital (though perhaps too minute a one) will give but an imperfect idea. These wretches possess talents for tormenting and alarming, far beyond the power of belief; and, by laying a true sketch of them before a traveller, an author does him the most real service. In this country the more truly we draw the portrait of man, the more we seem to fall into caricature. On the 16th, in the evening, we left Laberhey; and, after continuing about an hour along the plain, our grass ended, the ground becoming dry, firm, and gravelly, and we then entered into a wood of acacia-trees of considerable size. We now began to ascend gradually, having Gedem, the high mountain which forms the bay of Arkeeko, on our left, and these same mountains, which bound the plain of Arkeeko to the west, on our right. We encamped this night on a rising-ground called Shillokeeb, where there is no water, though the mountains were everywhere cut through with gullies and water courses, made by the violent rains that fall here in winter.