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The National Geographic Magazine 



been satisfactor}^ enough on a full-sized 

 mule. 



Here, also, through the kindness of 

 the American mission, I acquired a very 

 doubtful asset in the person of a shop- 

 worn, old Abyssinian, who had left his 

 native land as a boy and had been too 

 much cared for by a succession of mis- 

 sionary friends, who had brought him 

 up into a softened old manhood. His 

 qualifications were honesty, a knowl- 

 edge of the two principal Abyssinian 

 tongues, together with sufficient En- 

 glish to keep me from going mad ; and a 

 helplessness which assured his fidelity 

 to me when we were in strange lands. 



With about twenty boxes of provisions 

 and the ancient Michael Gabriel, I took 

 ship at Port Said on a tramp vessel bound 

 for Aden. Until the comparatively re- 

 cent establishment of Jibuti, in French 

 Somali L,and, Aden was the only seaport 

 near this portion of the African coast 

 which one could reach by steam vessels 

 plying to or through the southern end 

 of the Red Sea. 



It would have been possible to take 

 an Italian ship for Massawa, and to be- 

 gin there the journey toward the inte- 

 rior, but I was told, and could well 

 understand, that the sad disasters suf- 

 fered by the Italians in recent years 

 had reduced Massawa to a point of al- 

 most negligible importance, and, more- 

 over, there I would have had more 

 difficulty in obtaining the necessary 

 consent from Menelek for the interior 

 journey than at Jibuti or Zeila. 



Aden is famous the world over as one 

 of the hottest and in all natural ways 

 one of the most detestable places fre- 

 quented by civilized man. My first day 

 or two at this point, housed in one of 

 the two strange little inns which the 

 traveler may find, quite bore out the 

 popular conception of the place ; but 

 soon acquaintance with the hospitable 

 British officers made the place seem to 

 me quite a pleasure resort. I saw then, 

 more clearly than in Cairo, which is now 



quite European, the splendid talent of 

 our British cousins for making them- 

 selves and their guests almost comfor- 

 table and entirely contented in all sorts 

 of conditions. 



A score of forgotten, but at the last 

 moment much desired, articles were ob- 

 tained, and all the purchases were found 

 in good condition when I arrived in Zeila 

 save onl}^ that the sea biscuit, which I had 

 ordered to serve as bread, had been for- 

 gotten by the packers. The result was 

 the important discovery that one can get 

 along tolerably well without bread. 



A little steamer coughs its way across 

 once a week from Aden to Berbera, 

 thence to Zeila, thence back again. On 

 this Michael Gabriel was sent a week 

 ahead with instructions to deliver a letter 

 to Captain Harold, the British officer in 

 command at Zeila, and, with his per- 

 mission, to get together some camels. 



When I reached Zeila, Michael seemed 

 to have gotten close to only one camel. 

 That one had managed, even with its 

 soft pad, to kick Michael's shin into col- 

 lapse and makehim mourn the difference, 

 which he declared to be well marked, be- 

 tween the Somali camels and his humped 

 brother of Asia Minor and Egypt. 



A few Somali servants had been en- 

 gaged in Aden, one of whom tried to 

 desert when the little ship stopped at Ber- 

 bera, but we were finally landed safely, 

 carried in chairs' oti the shoulders of 

 strong, young natives through the shal- 

 lows to the shore. Zeila is a seaport, 

 not a harbor. 



Captain Harold put me up at his 

 modest Presidency, and his kindness 

 followed me at every moment in all the 

 detailed organization of the caravan. 

 A trade with camel men was made at so 

 much a load for the distance from Zeila 

 to Gildessa. Additional and trustworthy 

 men were engaged for my personal serv- 

 ices, and happily two small mules, the 

 only two in Zeila, were sold to me as 

 saddle animals for myself and compan- 

 ion. : 



