164 
THROUGH SOMALILAND AND ABYSSINIA chap. 
Next morning I sent a haunch of venison to Gabratagli, 
done up with clean white foolscap paper pinned round it, with 
a pencil memorandum in English conveying my compliments, 
as it seemed to me it would do no harm to be polite. My 
armed Somali camelman who took it seemed to think it a 
great joke, and trotted across the half-mile of valley to the 
Abyssinian zeriba in pouring rain, singing cheerfully ; and he 
returned saying my friend was delighted, but, my SomMi asked, 
“ Why did I waste my good venison on such pigs ? ” 
At mid-day on the 11th came news that Ras Makunan had 
returned to Harar from Shoa ; and at eight o’clock at night 
Gabratagli sent over the Ras’s letter, with an interpreter. The 
R4s expressed himself very pleased that I had carried out my 
promise, made last year, to visit him, and hoped I would come 
at once, adding that Gabratagli had received orders to make 
all arrangements for my coming. 
On the 13th March we left Jig-Jiga, crossed the plains to 
Hado, just inside the Harar Hills, and camped at Abadigal’s 
own village. We had now left the Marar Prairie, inhabited 
by Somdli nomads, and crossed the border of the Harar Hills, 
descending by the Marda Pass into undulating country occupied 
by the cultivating Geri and Bertiri, whose permanent villages 
are clustered about everywhere, and are controlled by Abyssinian 
magistrates, whose title is Shum. 
The Shum who was my host was Abadigal, Banaguse’s 
right-hand man, whom I had seen lately at Jig-Jiga; he was 
a good fellow, broad-shouldered and good-natured, and looked 
very imposing in his military dress, with a black sheepskin 
cape and a long curved sabre. Although the Bertiri villagers 
detest the Abyssinian occupation as a principle, Abadigal enjoys 
the personal respect of those under him. 
The pass by which w r e entered the mountains is called Karin 
Marda, and is very prettily wooded, the road having a greatest 
elevation of about 6500 feet above sea-level. A great change 
came over the landscape as w T e topped the pass. Behind us 
lay a thickly-wooded slope descending to the immense Marar 
Prairie, covered generally with short grass without a single 
bush, which is a thousand square miles in area, and has a 
greatest length of fifty and a greatest breadth of thirty-six 
miles, with a mean elevation of 5500 feet above sea-level. In 
front, at our feet, the road wound through picturesque forest 
for half a mile, and then the whole face of the country was 
