" Near his bed neighs his favourite horse, the pet of
young and old. In other partitioned places are his stores of barley
or wheat. When the evening meal is over, and the children sleep
where they last fell in their romping games, the chief first sees
that the companion of his forays is well littered; he then conducts
his guest to the spot where some sweet-smelling straw has been
spread under a dried cow-hide. Nor is that the end of his hospitality,
which at this point becomes rather embarrassing to the married
traveller. But the strange way in which the guest is honoured must
not be set down to licentiousness; it really is simplicity.
Every Galla is a horseman, every horseman a soldier; and thus is
formed a perfect militia, an always ready army, where no discipline
is required, no drill but to follow the chief. As soon as the war-cry
is heard, or the signal fire is seen on the summit of the distant
peak, the ever-ready steed is saddled, the young son jumps up behind
his father to hold his second lance, and from every hamlet, from
every apparently peaceful homestead, brave soldiers rush to the
rendezvous. When Theodore himself, at the head of his thousands,
invaded their land, then farewell to their homes. His revengeful
hand burnt forms and villages far and wide wherever he was opposed,
and the defenceless peasants fled in order to save their lives,
knowing well how futile were their hopes of safety, should they
fall into his power.
Pages:
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305