We had to wait a few days, as the Queen's letter had been detained
in Egypt, in order to have it translated, and it was only on the
20th of July, 1864, that Mr. Rassam and myself left Aden for Massowah
in her Majesty's steamer _Dalhousie_.
On the morning of the 23rd, at a distance of about thirty miles
from the shore, we sighted the high land of Abyssinia, formed of
several consecutive ranges, all running from N. to S., the more
distant being also the highest; some of the peaks, such as Taranta,
ranging between 12,000 and 13,000 feet.
As the outline of the coast became more distinct, the sight of a
small island covered with white houses surrounded by green groves,
reflecting their welcome shadows in the quiet blue water of the
bay, gave us a thrill of delight; it seemed as if at last we had
come to one of those enchanted spots of the East, so often described,
so seldom seen, and to the longing of our anxious hearts the quick
motion of the steamer seemed slow to satisfy our ardent wishes. But
nearer and nearer as we approached the shore, one by one all our
illusions disappeared; the pleasant imagery vanished, and the stern
reality of mangrove swamps, sandy and sunburnt beach, wretched and
squalid huts, stared us in the face. Instead of the semi-Paradise
distance had painted to our imagination, we found (and, alas!
remained long enough to verify the fact) that the land of our
temporary residence could be described in three words--sun, dirt,
and desolation.
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