The fort appears formidable, but only
at a great distance; on near approach it is found to be but a relic
of former ages, a crumbled-down ruin, too weak to bear any longer
its three old rusty guns now lying on the ground: it is the terror,
not of the neighbourhood, but of the unfortunate gunner, who has
already lost an arm whilst endeavouring to return a salute through
their honeycombed tubes. On the other hand, the mission-house,
garbed in immaculate whiteness, smiles radiantly around, inviting
instead of repulsing the invader. But within, are they always words
of love that fill the echoes of the dome? Is peace the only sound
that issues from its walls? Though the past speaks volumes, and
though the history of the Roman Church is written in letters of
blood all over the Abyssinian land, let us hope that the fears of
the people have no foundation, and that the missionaries here, like
all Christian missionaries, only strive to promote one object--the
cause of Christ.
Massowah, as well as the immediate surrounding country, is mainly
dependent on Abyssinia for its supplies. Jowaree is the staple food;
wheat is little used; rice is a favourite amongst the better classes.
Goats and sheep are killed daily in the bazaar, cows on rare
occasions; but the flesh of the camel is the most esteemed, though,
on account of the expense, rarely indulged in except on great
occasions.
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