I told him then what had happened to us at Gimbaar, at which he seemed exceedingly surprised. "These villages, says he, do not belong to Ayto Confu, but to his cousins, the sons of Basha Eusebius. They indeed died in rebellion, but our master has taken possession of them for the family, lest the king should give them away to a stranger. Some bad news must have arrived from Gondar; at any rate, if you are afraid, I will accompany you to-morrow past Dav-Dohha." We thanked him for the kind offer, but excused ourselves from accepting it, as we fully relied upon his intelligence; and having made him some trifling presents, about the value of what he brought, though in his eyes much more considerable, we took our leave, mutually satisfied with each other. From this I no longer doubted that the whole was a project of the king to terrify me, and make me return. What struck me, as most improbable of all, was the story of that lying wretch who said that Ayto Confu had sent a number of mules to carry away his furniture, and trusted the defence of his place to Abba Gimbaro, chief of the Baasa. For, first, I knew well it did not need many mules to carry away the furniture which Ayto Confu left at Tcherkin in time of war, and when he was not there; next, had he known that any person whatever, Shangalla or Christians, had intended to attack Tcherkin, he was not a man to fight by proxy or lieutenants; he would have been himself present to meet them, as to a feast, though he had been carried thither in a sick-bed. On the 30th, at half past six in the morning we set out from Waalia; and, though we were perfectly cured of our apprehensions, the company all joined in desiring me to go along with them, and not before them. They _wisely_ added, that, in a country like that, where there was no fear of God, I could not know what it might be in the power of the devil to do. I therefore hung my arms upon my horse, and, taking a gun in my hand, wandered among the trees by the road-side, in pursuit of the doves or pigeons. In a few hours I had shot several scores of them, especially on the banks of the Mai Lumi, or the River of Lemons. We came to it in about an hour from Waalia, and coasted it for some minutes, as it ran north-east parallel to our course. A prodigious quantity of fruit loaded the branches of these trees even likely to break them; and these were in all stages of ripeness. Multitudes of blossoms covered the opposite part of the tree, and sent forth the most delicious odour possible. We provided ourselves amply with this fruit. The natives make no use of it, but we found it a great refreshment to us, both mixed with our water, and as sauce to our meat, of which we had now no great variety since our onions had failed us, and a supply of them was no longer to be procured.