64 NATIVE HOUSES. 



around. The farm-houses were few and far 

 between, neither were they so high nor so comfort- 

 able-looking as those of the clustered villages, that 

 crowned every little hill in the vale of the Dinkee, 

 on the other side of Ankobar. The walls were 

 generally a circle of rough, unhewn stones, about 

 three feet high, supporting the usual conical roof of 

 straw. The smoke escaped in white wreaths from 

 beneath the eaves, or issued in a volume from 

 the entrance, and had it not been for some 

 substantial and really English-looking stacks of 

 grain standing near, which prevented the idea of 

 poverty being connected with the apparent dis- 

 comforts of these dwellings, the name of hovels would 

 have been far too superior a designation for them. 



We met very few people on the road, but these 

 had all of them a great number of questions to put, 

 if we would have stayed to listen. We were also 

 several times called upon to stop for the night 

 at the houses of people who ran after us to say, 

 that they knew Mr. Krapf, and that, consequently, 

 we must be their friends, and partake of their hospi- 

 pitality. Although shivering with cold, and nearly 

 tired out, we resisted all such temptations, proceed- 

 ing at a gentle amble, for which the mules of Shoa 

 are famous, and after a long ride of seven hours, 

 just as the sun was setting, its last rays falling upon 

 our faces, the straggling but extensive town of 

 Angolahlah suddenly opened upon us, as we 



