For my own part, I can only express my obligations to the missionaries; everywhere they showed me the greatest kindness and attention.  Their mode of life certainly struck me, because I involuntarily associate with the name “missionary” those men who at first went out into the world, without support, to diffuse the doctrines of Christ, taking nothing with them but a pilgrim’s staff.

Before concluding my description of Oromia, I must remark that this neighbourhood is considered to be the birth-place of Zoroaster, who is said to have lived 5,500 years before the birth of Christ, and was the founder of the sect of Magi, or fire-worshippers.

On the 1st of August, I rode ten hours to the village of Kutschie, which lies near the Lake Oromia; we seldom caught sight of the lake, although we were always very near to it all day.  We passed through large, fertile villages, which would have presented a charming prospect if they had not been situated between barren and naked hills and mountains.

I had not enjoyed so pleasant a day during the whole journey from Mosul, or from Baghdad.  My guide was a remarkably good fellow, very attentive to me, and provided everything carefully when we reached Kutschie; he took me to a very cleanly peasant’s cottage, among some excellent people; they immediately laid down a nice carpet for me on a small terrace, brought me a basin of water to wash, and a quantity of large black mulberries on a lacquered plate.  Afterwards I had some strong soup with meat, fat, sour milk, and good bread, all in clean vessels; but what was better than all, the people retired as soon as they had set the food before me, and did not stare at me as if I was a strange animal.  When I offered to pay these good people, they would not take anything; I had no opportunity of rewarding them until the following morning, when I took two men of the family as guard across the mountains, and gave them twice as much as they are generally paid; they thanked me, with touching cordiality, and wished me safety and good fortune on my journey.

2nd August.  It occupied three hours to pass the most dangerous part of these desolate mountains.  My two armed men would not, indeed, have afforded me much protection against a band of robbers, although they were the means of making the journey less terrible than it would have been if I had gone with my old guide alone.  We met several large caravans, but all going towards Oromia.

When we had crossed the mountains, the two men left us.  We entered into enormous valleys, which seemed to have been forgotten by nature, and deserted by man.  In my opinion, we were not in any degree out of the danger, and I was right; for, as we were passing three ruined cottages in this barren valley, several fellows rushed out upon us, laid hold of our horses’ reins, and commenced rummaging my luggage.  I expected nothing but an order to dismount, and already saw my little property lost.  They talked