Identifier: sportingtripthro00powe (find matches)
Title: A sporting trip through Abyssinia : a narrative of a nine months' journey from the plains of the Hawash to the snows of Simien, with a description of the game, from elephant to ibex, and notes on the manners and customs of the natives
Year: 1902 (1900s)
Authors: Powell-Cotton, P. H. G. (Percy Horace Gordon), 1866-1940
Subjects: Hunting -- Ethiopia
Publisher: London : Rowland Ward
Contributing Library: University of Connecticut Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Connecticut Libraries

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o have a lastlook for the missing ibex. It was a cloudy, cold day,with sleet-squalls every now and then ; and, beyond afew old tracks, all we saw was a big troop of baboons.In the evening, round a roarincr fire, Ali told me of hisunsuccessful search, and the Shum protested both hisanxiety to help me, and his absolute ignorance of anyother ibex-ground, assertions which I knew to be equallyfalse. The following morning, I sent off the messengerfrom the Balambaras and one of my men to interviewthe villagers all round, and offer a reward for any in-formation about other herds of wala, while I went backto the old ground ; but the clouds were so dense that weonly got occasional glimpses of it from above, and,except a family party of three klipspringers and a solitarymonkey, saw nothing. Sunday, \st Jn/y.—As yesterdays messengers hadreturned with no news, and there apparently was nothingleft on Buiheat but one small buck—being, moreover,unable to discover any other ground, and the Takazze
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CHAP. XXXII A TERRIBLE ROAD 377 likely from all accounts to be soon impassable, I decidedto move down to the Attabar valley. The path was oneof the most villainous I have ever tried to take beastsalong, the greater part of the road lying in the bed of astream strewn with steep and slippery rocks, wherethe mules kept falling and loads getting astray. Atone place the way led through a pool, between thefoot of one and the head of another waterfall, where, inmy endeavours to keep a donkey from being washed offits legs and down the fall, I lost a cape. The scenery,during this toilsome march—when I had time to turnand glance at it—was one which for stern and ruggedgrandeur I have never seen surpassed. We werewending our way down a deep valley bounded on eitherside by a seemingly endless range of dark basaltic rocks,whose craggy, snow-crowned summits were half hiddenin the clouds. As we descended further, the cliffsgradually became less steep and bare : grasses and shrubs,finding some so

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