CHAP. X.
Leave Samba, and continue our Journey southward—Fall in with Fasil's Pagan Galla—Encamp on the Kelti.
At Bamba begins a valley full of small hills and trees, all brushwood, none of them high enough for timber. On the right hand of the valley the hills slope gently up, the ground is firm, and grass short like sheep pasture; the hills on the left are steeper and more craggy, the lower part of the valley had been cleared of wood, and sown with different sorts of grain, by the industry of the inhabitants of the village of that name—industry that had served them to very little purpose, as the encampment of this wild army destroyed in one night every vestige of culture they had bestowed upon it.
Shalaka Woldo was not, to all appearance, a man to protect a stranger in the middle of a retreating army, disband-ed
