Insurrection of the Galla.
In the heart of the mountain range of Garra Gorphoo stood a large Galla hamlet—for it has been since visited in wrath by the monarch—situated in one of those sweet locations which the children of nature delight to select. The deep valley is thickly clothed with the most luxuriant cultivation, and its sides rise in a gentle slope, throwing out a succession of verdant terraces, teeming with herbs and wild flowers. On one of these stood the village of Mundeeda, the residence of Goma, the great chief of the Abitchu. A bright green sward extended far in front, and the steep mountain that rises behind afforded shelter from the bleak blast of winter. A sparkling brook, after dashing in tiny cascades down the craggy face, glides away in a quiet course over the enamelled meadow, until lost in the grove of dark junipers which rest on the side of a grassy knoll, where the sacrifice was performed in honour of the deities, and where the listless heathen was wont to dream away the hours of idleness.
The tenements, although low and rudely constructed of stakes and mud, were warm and commodious; and the numerous posts which rose from the clay floor to support the thatch, served as a resting-place for shields, and spears, and crooked swords, which now imparted to the interior the semblance of an extensive armoury. Every thing was in a state of utter confusion and uproar. Large droves of wild shaggy horses, and clusters of fiery savages were grouped on the plain outside. The ringing shout of the warrior mingled with the neigh of his war-steed, and the din and the clatter of household avocations resounded from the interior of every hut. To add to the bustle, the Galla females were running from house to house, with their long raven tresses streaming over their bare shoulders; whilst their short leather petticoats, with embroidered flounces, displayed the well-shaped limbs and the graceful form, for which the tribe are so justly famed.
In every nook large earthen jars, and wicker baskets, filled with grain, were stored in readiness to supply the demands for food, as each tribe poured in to the general gathering of the clans. Black eyes peered wildly over the grinding-mill and the cauldron; and the merry laugh at the novel appearance of the motley throng, with the suppressed scream of delight from the timid maiden, arose frequently from the dark corners of the hovels. Preparations were making for hospitality on the most extensive scale. A successful foray had that very morning returned laden with spoil, and the king of the Amhára had for once amply supplied the table of his revolted lieges.
Crowded around the cheerful blaze of a fierce fire that was crackling in the centre of the largest building, sat a score of persons, who were beguiling the time until the entertainment should be ready, by discussing the daring escape of Medóko, and the success which would assuredly attend the movement of the morrow. The dress of the greater number of these men was the usual cotton cloth, black and soiled with the grease of years; but the accumulated massive ivory rings upon the arm, the ostrich-feather floating over matted locks, and the spoils of the lion and the leopard dangling over the back, proclaimed the presence of the chieftains of the land. Their gaunt frames and supple limbs betokened a life of activity and endurance, and their restless eyes gleamed over the fire with all the quick suspicion of the savage.
The black bull-hide formed the only covering to the host of attendants that thronged behind their respective lords, and a few Amhára robes flaunted in white and crimson, amidst the sombre vestments of the Galla group. But Medóko and his sons, in stature above all their compeers, appeared in the full costume of the Christian warriors of Efát.
Decked in silver gauntlets and armlets, with the graceful akodáma hanging in glittering clusters over their manly brows, the master-spirits of the scene were easily to be distinguished. The usual robe of peace had been well replaced by the skin of the tawny lion, which nearly reached the ground. Fastened on one side around the sinewy throat, it allowed full freedom to the right arm, and only partially concealed the rich silk vest, and loose kilt-like trowsers, which hung barely to the knee.
The kindling fuel of insurrection had indeed been well fanned—ancient wrongs were fully brought to mind, and vengeance was liberally promised. Few were there present who had not suffered either in person or in property, from the midnight appearance of the Christian despot. Heredita............