UNKNOWN ABYSSINIA.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 49, 28 February 1927, Page 3

UNKNOWN ABYSSINIA.

STREET. LIFE IN ADDIS ABABA. NEVER A DULL PROGRESS. (Br -JACK BAI'M, Special Correspondent or the "Auckland Star and the North American Newspaper Alliance.) ADDIS ABABA. October 31. A horseback ride in Addis Ababa i' never a dull proceeding. The streets are crowded with people. Women carryins baskets on their heads, men driving donkey; loaded with firewood, hide; or other marketable produce, make a picturesque background. And things are always happening. This morning my horse suddenly stopped, ears pricked forward. He snorted and I saw that directly in froniand almost touching his breast a heavy chain dangled between two men, fastened to their wrists. The ancient custom of chaining a debtor and creditor together has become familiar. V> e see it every day, but it is such a strange custom, so unique and outlandish, that it continues to interest us. Where in the world but in Abyssinia could such a practice be enforced. The syce running alongside —you must have a syce with vou to shout ahead and clear the way called for "gangway," and we went by. A snort distance beyond, a cart drawn by two mules came along. The little horse almost had a tit. It was the first vehicle he had ever seen, for all transport in Addis is done by pack mules. That cart, with its crude home-made wheels, was a great curiosity to the crowd as well as to my horse. The Evil Eye. Occasionally men of some importance came in sight". They swept bv on pacing mules, a dozen or two barefooted followers trailing at a dog-trot, carrying suns and shields, and lending dignity to their master's progress. Beside the road a leper stretched out a skinny hand, sunken eyes peering from beneath the low brim of a shabby felt hat. An old man sitting in front of the market place carefully pulls his s'namma over his head a; we passed—he was taking no chances on the Evil Eye.

Just off the main road an Abyssinian lady was being helped on her mule. She was muffled from ankles to eyes in loose white clothes, as they always are when in the town. Her half dozen attendants stood round the patient mule with shammas spread wide to shield their mistress from the vulgar gaze. It would be horrible if anyone saw her mount! To mount in plain sight of the world simply is not done and is considered almost as indecent in a lady as to be seen eating. She would never think of mounting without a screen of shammas unless, of course, she happened to be decidedly harum-scarum, a "new woman," one of that wild and reckless fraternity, of which the bicycle-riding, bloomer-wear-ing girl of the 90'= was the European representative. A short way further on a young Abyssinian came running up waving a paper and calling something Amharic. He had heard that we were organising a caravan. He wanted to go and the paper was a recommendation from the Swedish Mission.. It was in English: we read it and referred him to our caravan leader, Dabba. Dabba knows everybody in town, and his keen, searching black eyes seem to look right through a candidate" as he stands uncomfortably shuffling bare feet, hat in hand. If he is a good man Dabba will hire him. If not, we can rely on the little head man to send him about his business, regardless of mission or any other recommendations. Dabba is wise. He knows his fellow Abyssinians and is not easily misled. Dabba tells us that if the men squander in riotous living, their first month's allowance money, three Abyssinian dollars, before they leave Addis, it- will be their own look-out—he will not give them any more before the month is up. He has warned them, and from the awe and respect in which they seem to hold him, it is possible that his influence may keep them away from the flesh pots. Last Word in Civilisation. Black Gallas, armed with spears and wearing brown sack-cloth, pass, driving a herd of humped cattle. The animals are thin for they have been many weeks on the road. The drivers are filled with suppressed excitement as they enter the town. It is the first they have seen of metropolitan life. Addis Ababa means the last word in civilisation.' They have heard of the motors of the foreign legations: they have been told of Eas Talari's Palace and of the immense throngs of people. They are all agog with excitement.

A dozen or two ownerless dogs lounging in front of the butchers shop of an East Indian—for the Indians of Addis Ababa feed those wild dogs religiously —get up and clear out of the vray. They know Gallas and they know spears.

An old woman carrying on her head a basket of food on the way to market, where evervthine is bought and sold.

screams and waves her arms as a bold hawk makes a dive at the food. She chatters away for a half block indignantly and pulls a leaf from a bush as she passes. With the leaf stuffed carefully in both nostrils she seems more contented and the hawk is forgotten.

As we gallop and trot for two or three miles we glance around occasionally. But the syce is always there. You cannot wear him out. No matter how rough and rocky the road, he keeps up. bare feet, padding along, unmindful of sharp stones, steep hills or distance. He is never winded, never tired and is always there to hold your horse v.-hen you stop. They are tough lads, these syces, and we have not yet been able to make one drop behind.