Page images
PDF
EPUB
[graphic]

THE ATTACK OF THE ETHIOPIAN WARRIORS ON THE REAR OF THE ITALIAN ARMY AT AMBA ALAGUI. DRAWN BY E. L. BLUMENSCHEIN.

AN ABYSSINIAN CAVALRYMAN ON THE WAR-PATH. PAINTED FROM LIFE BY PAUL

BUFFET.

more. He is exceedingly fond of games, especially those calling for bodily skill, and he often joins himself in the dangerous sport of javelin-throwing, in which horsemen going at full speed hurl lances at one another, often at the risk of life or limb. He is fond of rifle-shooting also; and formerly he used to amuse himself by playing with three fullgrown lions which were allowed to roam free about the palace grounds, to the great disquietude of visitors. "Do they never kill any one?" asked a European.

66

"Yes," answered Menelik, "they do occasionally; but whenever one of the lions kills a man, we kill the lion." He spoke of it as a matter of trivial moment. At the time of the great famine, about eight years ago, however, Menelik had them all killed, saying

that he could not bear to feed wild beasts while his people were dying of hunger.

[graphic]

in

When Monsieur Buffet was Abyssinia, the Emperor had a young pet elephant that was allowed to wander about the city and pick up food as it pleased. This habit of the elephant's gave Monsieur Buffet a fine surprise one evening, and nearly frightened his cook into convulsions, for just as they were about to begin their evening meal, a black form appeared in the door-way of the cabin, and before any one knew what was happening, everything eatable on the table had disappeared, including a dish of potatoes, an omelet, and an excellent chicken. Having thus satis

fied his appetite, the elephant started to withdraw, but could not get through the door for the height of his head, and in his struggles to get out he all but carried off the fragile structure like a big straw hat. resting on his shoulders. When Menelik heard of this adventure, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. The elephant has since been sent as a gift to the President of France, and is now kept in the Paris Jardin des Plantes.

One visitor, observing that Menelik was exceedingly fond of playing draughts, told him about the game of billiards, and suggested that he have a table brought to the palace.

"No," said Menelik; "if it is as fascinating a game as you say, I will not have it

[graphic][subsumed]

THE RAS MAKONNEN, A FAMOUS ABYSSINIAN GENERAL AND COUSIN OF MENELIK. PAINTED FROM LIFE BY PAUL BUFFET.

here, because I should waste too much time playing it."

Another traveler presented the Emperor with a phonograph, which Menelik studied with the greatest interest. "This brings Europe into Africa," he said, much pleased; "this is a new way of writing, so that you read with your ears instead of with your eyes."

The traveler went on to speak of the Röntgen rays, and said that he would have brought an apparatus for producing them had he not been warned that the Abyssinian priests would object to it. "That is not true," said Menelik. "I should be glad to have such an apparatus; we are no longer where we were twenty years ago."

Menelik's broad-mindedness and apprecia

tion of the value to his country of knowl- their faces, thus forming from hand to hand a screen of white and red (the colors of the chemmas) that hides the Emperor both from the generals themselves and from the mass of the company, sitting outside their circle, while the Emperor takes bread or meat.

edge from without is shown by the welcome accorded to Europeans visiting his country and by the fact that several Europeans have filled posts of importance in his service. One of the best times for seeing Menelik and his chief men is at the weekly gathering at the palace, the Sunday feasting, when the Emperor literally feeds his people. At ten o'clock in the morning, after the religious service, the great pillared dining-room is crowded with men (no women are received). They come in two hundred at a time, and seat themselves in groups, cross-legged, on the floor, heads bare, feet bare, some wearing a silken tunic under the chemma-these the richer ones others wearing the chemma alone, and each showing more or less of his body as his social standing allows, for in Abyssinia in proportion as a man is accounted proud and great he covers up his body; and so it is that Menelik alone, in all the gathering, wears over his chemma a black burnoose (a hooded cape reaching to the ankles), and shoes upon his feet (made in France), and a ribbon around his head, and lifts a fold of his chemma so as to hide the lower part of his face. Not that Menelik attaches great importance to pomps and ceremonies; indeed, he often laughs at them; but this is a custom of the country.

And on this occasion custom requires the Emperor to sit alone on an alga, a curtained and cushioned divan spread with Persian tapestries. In a circle on the floor, guarding this divan, sit the generals, but rise to their feet whenever the Emperor makes sign that he will put food into his mouth, it being a matter of strict etiquette that no one shall look upon his superior when he is in the act of eating. Having risen, the generals hold up their chemmas with zealous care before

Meanwhile attendants are moving about from group to group distributing hydromel (honey wine) and bread. The latter is served in long flat oval vessels with a hollow at the center filled with a sort of pepper sauce. One vessel of bread serves for each group, each man cutting away a chunk from the loaf and dipping it into the common well of sauce. Then great pieces of beef are brought around, quite raw, and each man cuts off a piece to his liking, and stripping it into shreds swallows it thus with the bread. The quantity of raw beef that an Abyssinian can dispose of on such an occasion is surprising. If need be, he can live for days without meat, getting on quite well with a handful of flour, some dried peas, and a bit of pepper for his day's rations. But when the chance offers, he can eat as much meat in a day as a European would eat in ten.

The Sunday feasting occupies a great part of the day, the Emperor remaining seated on his alga until all who care to come have been fed, often five or six hours. While he waits he talks freely with those sitting about him, especially with any Europeans who may be present, discussing with keenest interest the latest news from the distant civilized world, and asking endless questions as to recent discoveries and inventions. Most charming in his manner at such times, his voice is sweet and insinuating, his eye full of intelligence, and altogether he impresses the visitor as a man of unusual force and understanding.

[graphic]

PAUL BUFFET'S CARAVAN CROSSING THE KASAM RIVER ON THE WAY FROM THE COAST TO ADDIS ABEBA. DRAWN

BY GEORGE VARIAN AFTER A SKETCH FROM LIFE BY BUFFET.

WE

THE FIGHTING MANAGER.

BY CY WARMAN,

Author of "Tales of an Engineer,"

[ocr errors]

E had been discussing the late war and The most the heroes of the hour. ," said heroic man I ever knew was Stone,' the General Manager, placing one foot upon the box that covered the machinery of the speed-recorder at the rear of his private

car.

"Stone of the Q strike?" "Yes, Henry B. Stone. Ask Brown of the Burlington, Ripley and Morton of the Santa Fé, Robert Lincoln, and dozens of others who fought under him in the great strike of 1888, or who knew him intimately after he had left the road, and who still mourn his tragic death, and they will say, every one of them, that they are braver and better men because of their acquaintance with him and his influence upon their lives. Stone could not so much as think crooked. He had, perhaps, an exaggerated idea of honor and loyalty and of his duty to the company that employed him. During the freight-handlers' strike his little boy fell ill. All day this faithful manager remained in his office, and then sat all night at the bedOne morning his side of his dying boy. chief clerk, Wyllie, saw him standing on the platform of the freight sheds, surrounded by sullen strikers, smiling and talking with the General Superintendent. The secretary was pleased, for he guessed that the boy must be better. But when, after receiving some instructions about matters of business, he ventured to ask, Mr. Stone's answer was: 'Oh, the boy's dead. Yes, he died last night, just after I got home.'

"Snow on the Headlight," etc.

business of the company. When night came,
he went home, and he sat and watched and
wept by the side of the small casket.-But
that is not the story I started to tell. It was
at East St. Louis, at the time of the Martin
Irons riots, that he showed the greatest
heroism I have ever seen displayed. Every
day for nearly two weeks the mob had
marched through the freight yards, clubbing
every one who seemed not to sympathize with
them, and terrorizing those who wanted to
Finally, Mr. Stone, who was then
work.
General Manager of the Burlington, came
down to St. Louis to try and start the wheels
of commerce that had been stopped by the
strikers. Not a pound of freight had left
St. Louis or East St. Louis for ten days.
Mr. Stone sent word to the shippers to send
over their teams, and the company would
undertake to protect them and the men.

"About 10 o'clock a boat-load of trans-
fer teams left the Missouri shore, and
steamed across to the freight yards of the
Q and the Alton. The moment the mob
caught sight of the boat, they raised the
war-whoop, and bore down upon the shore.
As they approached the landing and began
to stone the boat, McChesney, a deputy
sheriff, Mr. Stone, and his superintendent,
Mr. Brown (now General Manager of the
Burlington), each grabbed a rioter, and I
followed the good example. And we each
held a six-shooter to our prisoner's ear.
The
Stone seemed to have singled out the biggest
and toughest-looking man in the mob.
fellow showed fight, and I saw Stone's face
go pale, saw his hand grip the self-acting
revolver until the hammer raised from the
cartridge. My man stood quiet-much quieter
than I was, for I was watching the hammer
of Stone's revolver and the little space that
was narrowing between that rough and eter-
'I nity.

"The secretary tried to stammer some word of condolence, but the General Manager waved him aside, swallowing hard. Yes, Wyllie,' he said; just so. I say, Wyllie, if any one calls at the office, just say that the boy is dead, that the end was painless, and that-that's all, Wyllie,' he jerked. sha'n't be at the office to-day.'

"The chief clerk thought, of course, that he would go home, but he did not. He remained all day long at the freight sheds, fighting burly freight wrestlers and doing his best to take care of the property and the

"The mob, seeing the four men held with revolvers to their heads, turned and swept back up the bank, bent on rescuing the prisThere were at least four hundred oners. men to do the rescuing, and I confess that I saw nothing for us but a brief fight and

« PreviousContinue »