VI A VISIT TO RAS MAKUNAN OF HARAR, 1893 167 
with perpendicular walls seven feet high hanging to the ground 
all round. The central pole was twelve feet high, of male 
bamboo grown, I think, in Abyssinia, and the material of the tent 
was a single thickness of American shirting. We waited out- 
side a short time, among a crowd of gaping villagers and dogs, 
while the tent was being prepared with carpets for my reception. 
On entering it I met Basha-Basha, who welcomed me to his 
village. He was a little man, squarely built, and had lost his 
left eye. He had an abrupt, peremptory way of talking, but he 
was said to be very popular and to have a great reputation for 
straightforwardness, being kind to his inferiors and “ very terrible 
in war.” Fortunately I had not to test his fighting powers, 
but I found him everything that could be wished as a host, and 
he impressed me more favourably than any of the Abyssinians 
whom I had met. He apologised for not being in his dress of 
ceremony on the ground that he was in mourning ; but next day 
he condescended to put on his cape of lion-skin and a black 
velvet waistcoat covered with embroidery, to show me the 
costume. He admired my big-game rifles, being much delighted 
with the double four-bore, weighing twenty-two pounds, which 
he said was the right gun for elephants. I heard that Basha- 
Basha when a child was adopted by the wife of Ras Makunan, 
and through this connection with the family of the Ras and his 
own ability he had advanced to his present post. 
On the 15th [ remained all day in Basha-Basha’s tent, 
occasionally appearing at the entrance to show myself to the 
crowd which had come to see me. In the evening I wanted to 
go for a walk, so, as an excuse, I proposed to visit Feyambiro. 
I had the greatest difficulty in persuading Basha-Basha and 
Gabratagli that I was not going to choose the site for an English 
fort. They thought it most extraordinary that I should want 
to go for a walk, and Basha-Basha quietly ordered a detach- 
ment of soldiers to go with me! I carried out my intention, 
going four miles along a very uninteresting public path covered 
with people passing to and fro, between cultivated fields, when 
we came to a few huts belonging to a caravan of Berbera 
traders; this, I was told, was Feyambiro, where all caravans 
from Somaliland unload and change to donkey transport, leaving 
the camels to graze at Feyambiro, as the road ahead, over the 
twenty-five miles to Harar, winds through deep gorges and is 
too rough for camels. Gabratagli asked why I should want to 
see Feyambiro, when I should pass it on the morrow while going 
