VI 
A VISIT TO RAS MAKUNAN OF HARAR , 1893 161 
the R4s, and he asked me to stay at Jig-Jiga for three or four 
days till the answer should arrive. 
It was not till nearly sunset that Banaguse came over, 
bringing his whole force across the valley to my camp. I fired 
a salute as he came in, my men being pleased, and thinking 
themselves great soldiers after the morning’s display. I insisted 
on his halting his people two hundred yards from camp, and 
bringing only twenty men with him ; and to show him that I 
did not like his methods, I ordered my men to squat down in 
a circle round the door of my reception tent, and leading 
Banaguse and a few chiefs through a lane of my men, I sat 
down among them w T ith my loaded rifle leaning against a chair 
and my revolver on. The few soldiers whom Banaguse brought 
with him were allowed to wander about the camp at will, one 
sentry keeping a watchful eye over them. They treat their 
long Remington rifles shamefully, leaning on them with the 
muzzles half buried in the earth. Their custom is to keep 
these rifles loaded while on the Som&li frontier, but not, I 
believe, in Harar. 
I found Banaguse very intelligent, and his features are well 
cut and regular, unlike those of the coarse -featured soldiers. 
I noticed the Som&lis have much better features than the 
Abyssinian solders, and smaller hands and feet. I should 
think Banaguse must have Arab blood in his veins. Although 
polite, he was not at all disposed to be friendly to me ; he 
knew that I had taken photographs of his stockade on my last 
visit while he was away, and complained of him to the British 
Government. 
There was a report in my camp that the force he had 
collected at Gojar was getting ready to attack an Italian who 
was said to have settled down on the Milmil-Ime route at 
Sassamani, in Og^den. At the time I thought of Prince 
Ruspoli, but subsequently found that the object of the attack, 
which never came off, was Colonel Paget, who had, I afterwards 
heard, with great justice restored some looted camels to the 
Ogdden while on a shooting trip in their country. 
During my interview with Banaguse, Mahomed Ahmed, 
the poor Ger&d or Sultan of the Bertiri Somdlis, sat in my tent 
looking dejected and never daring to utter a word. It appears 
his dignity had suffered at the hands of the Abyssinians during 
the last few months, he being obliged to “trot about like a 
dog” between the karias to fetch cows for the soldiers to eat. 
M 
