common prophets, but one who never ate any thing but roots, or drank other liquor than water, since the day of his nativity. Such a man as this, you know, Yagoube, cannot lie." "And I, says Ayto Confu, being a prophet that hath ate beef and drunk bouza ever since my nativity, whenever I could not get wine or brandy, and who give my share of water freely to the saints of Waldubba, as a proper reward for the lies they tell, I do prophecy, that there are now two thousand men eating their supper within fight of Serbraxos, who will never see it nearer, but will all be slain in a battle fought at this place to-morrow, at which time Yagoube shall be feasting with me at Gondar, without caring a fig for king Theodorus and his plenty." — "A blessed prophet you!" says Ozoro Esther.
At this instant the servants at the door informed us there was scarce light to see the way down the hill, and we got our wounded prophet, without much difficulty or complaint, into the litter. A number of men supported him down the hill, and about 50 of his own horse attended. I desired him to feel often the bandage if his wound bled; and, finding it did not, I rode on horseback close by his side. For some time, not hearing him stir or speak, I thought he was asleep, or had fainted; on which I stopt the litter, felt his pulse, and asked him if he was dosing? He said, No; he was thinking of all the lies his mother had been telling me: but there is one thing she did not care to tell you, Yagoube, she says you laugh at these stories; but there is a spirit who always appears to Michael and assures him of victory. The devil, said I, probably; for what good arises from all those victories? are they not the ruin of innocent people, and of the country? No, replied Confu, it is St Mi-
