African Mission Nikolai Gumileva

African diary

April 15, 2016 marks 130 years since the birth of Nikolai Gumileva - Poet, researchers in Africa, one of the collectors of the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography (Kunstkamera) of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Gumilev committed several expeditions to Abyssinia (Ethiopia), from where not only rare items, but also photos - about 300 negatives are stored in the museum.

Some of these photos are published for the first time.

Abyssinian Church and the Bell Tower under construction in Harare

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Santyazach Taffari.

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Crowd and detachment of the Somal, going to the governor mu Palace during the holiday

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

The road from the river "Avdel" in Harara (near Harara)

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Nikolai Gumilev records Galas Songs from Gallas singer (worth the translator)

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

FAS old women Charariyanka

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Water along the road

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

"The road to Harar runs the first kilometers twenty to the river bed<…>, Her edges are pretty stupid, and God forbid a traveler to be on it during the rain. "

Pier in Suez

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Railway path near Station Zh.d. Logahardim

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Port Said View

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Aba-Muda, the current governor of St. Sheikh Gusseyn

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Suez Canal

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

"Not everyone can love the Suez Canal, but the one who loves him will love for a long time. This narrow strip of fixed water has a very special sad charm. "

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Street in Djibouti (Natives are brought with cochanists)

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

Dome over the grave of the Gallaski Saint Sheikh Gussein

Photo from the Kunstkamera collection

"African campaign" in 1913

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the "African diary":

Once in December 1912, I was in one of those charming forced by the books of the University of St. Petersburg, where students, undergraduates, and sometimes professors drink tea, slightly under the specialty of each other. I was waiting for the famous Egyptologist, who brought the Abyssinian fold with me from the previous visit to me: Mary Maria with a baby on one half and saint with a severed foot on another. In this small collected, my fold had a mediocre success; The classic spoke about his anti-schools, researcher of the Renaissance about the European influence, depreciating it, ethnographer on the advantage of the art of Siberian foreigners. Much more interested in my journey, asking the usual questions in such cases: many Lviv there are, whether the hyenas are very dangerous, as travelers come in the event of the Abyssinians attack. And as I assured that Lviv should be sought for weeks that hyena is a cowardly hares that the Abyssines are terrible legs and never attack anyone, I saw that I almost don't believe me. It turned out to destroy legends than to create them.

At the end of the conversation, Professor J. asked if I had a story about my journey at the Academy of Sciences. I immediately imagined this huge white building with inner courtyards, stairs, alleys, a whole fortress, protecting official science from the outside world; servants with Galuns who are adding, who exactly I want to see; Finally, the cold face of the duty secretary, announced to me that the Academy is not interested in private work that the Academy has its own researchers and the like discouraging phrases. In addition, like a writer, I used to look at academics as on my original enemies. Part of these considerations, of course, in a softened form, I expressed Professor J. However, I did not go and half an hour, as with a letter of recommendation in my hands, I found myself on a twisted stone staircase in front of the door to the reception of one of the tops of academic destinies.

Five months have passed since then. During this time I have been a lot on the inner stairs, and in spacious, forced not yet disassembled collections of cabinets, in attics and in the cellars of the museums of this large white building over the Neva. I met scientists, exactly just twisted from the pages of Roman Jules Verne, and such that with an enthusiastic shine of eyes talk about waves and cocidians, and such, whose dreams to get the skin of the Red Wild Dog, licked in Central Africa, and such that, like Baudelaire, ready to believe in the true divinity of small idols of wood and ivory. And almost everywhere, the reception provided to me was hit by his simplicity and heartiness. Princes of official science were like real princes, benevolent and favorable.

I have a dream, living with all the difficulty of its execution. Complete from the south to the north of the Danakil Desert, lying between Abyssinian and the Red Sea, explore the lower course of the r. Havash, learn the unknown mysterious tribes scattered there. Nominally, they are under the rule of the Abyssinian government, are actually free. And since they all belong to one tribe of Danakly, quite capable, although very ferocious, they can be combined and, having found access to the sea, civilize or, at least to arabity. In the family of peoples, another one will add. And there is a way to the sea. This is a regate, a small independent Sultanate, north of the mound. One Russian adventure seeker - in Russia there are no less than anywhere else, it was at all acquired it for the Russian government. But our Ministry of Foreign Affairs refused him.

This route was not adopted by the Academy. He cost too expensive. I reconciled with refusal and presented another route, adopted after some discussions with the museum of anthropology and ethnography at the Imperial Academy of Sciences.

I had to go to the port of Djibouti in the Bab El Mandantry Strait, from there by rail to Harrarra, then, making a caravan, south, to the area lying between the Somali Peninsula and Lakes Rudolf, Margarita, Zveva; Separate the largest research area; Take pictures, collect ethnographic collections, record songs and legends. In addition, I was granted the right to collect zoological collections. I asked permission to take a helper with me, and my choice stopped at my relative N. L. Schurchkov, a young man who loving hunting and natural sciences. He was distinguished by such a good character that, because of one desire, to preserve the world would go to all sorts of deprivation and danger.

Anna Andreevna Gumileva:

As far as I remember, Kolya went to his funds. Anna Ivanovna gave him a major amount from his capital, I probably know. But since the Academy of Sciences also became interested in the journey, he promised to buy those rare specimens that he took to bring.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the "African diary":

Cooking on the journey occupied a month of hard work. It was necessary to get: a tent, guns, saddles, blizzards, certifying, recommendation letters, etc., etc.

I was so inspired that the day before the departure was lying all day in the heat. The right, preparations for the journey is harder to travel.

Georgy Vladimirovich Ivanov:

His last expedition (for the year before the war) was widely furnished at the Academy of Sciences. I remember Gumilev leaving this trip. Everything was ready, baggage sent forward, shipping and railway tickets have long been ordered. The day before the departure, Gumilev got sick - a strong headache, 40 ° temperature. They called the Doctor, he said that probably typhus. All night Gumilev deliberate. In the morning, another day I visited him. The heat was as strong, the consciousness is not quite clear: suddenly, interrupting the conversation, he spoke about some white rabbits who know how to read, climbed on the half-word, again began to speak wisely and again climbed.

When I was forgiven, he did not give me his hands: "I'll get used" and added: "Well, forgive, be healthy, I'll certainly leave today."

On another day, I again came to visit him, as it was not doubted that the phrase about the departure was the same as the reading rabbits, i.e. Bredom. I was met by the crying Akhmatova: "Kohl went".

Two hours before the deposit, Gumilev demanded water for shaving and dress. He was trying to calm down, but failed. He himself shaved, he was laid out what remained unrelated, he drank a glass of tea with brandy and left.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the "African diary":

On April 10, on a steamer of the Voluntary Fleet "Tambov" we went out into the sea. Any two weeks ago, the raging and dangerous Black Sea was calm as some lake. The waves were gently drunk under the head of the steamer, where rushing, pulsating, like a heart of a working person, an invisible screw. There was no foam, and only flee the pale green malachite strip of disturbed water. Dolphins were a friendly flocks behind the steamer, then overtaking it, the lagging behind, and at times, as if in a rampant fit of fun, they joked, showing the lightening wet spins. Night came, the first at sea, sacred. There were no stars for a long time, the water was heard. Are there any people who have never seen the sea?

12 in the morning - Constantinople. Yes, this is never trained, although frankly decorative beauty of the Bosphorus, Bay, boats with white Latin sails, from which funny Turks are scalating their teeth, houses, houses on coastal slopes, surrounded by cypresses and flowering lilac, teeth and tower of vintage fortresses and sun, special sun Constantinople, bright and burning.<…>

In Constantinople, another passenger joined us, the Turkish consul, which was just appointed in Harrar. We broke up with him about the Turkish literature, about the Abyssinian customs, but most often about foreign policy. He was a very inexperienced diplomat and a big dreamer. We were persuaded to offer the Turkish government to send instructors to the Somali Peninsula to arrange an irregular army from Muslims. It could serve for the paternity of the everlasting Arabs of Yemen, especially since the Turks almost do not tolerate the Arabian heat.

Two, three other plans in the same way, and we are in Port Said. There we were waiting for disappointment. It turned out that in Constantinople was cholera, and we were forbidden to have a relationship with the city. The Arabs brought us to provisions, which they handed over, not climbing on board, and we entered the Suez Canal.

Not everyone can love the Suez Canal, but the one who loves him will love for a long time. This narrow strip of fixed water has a very special sad charm.

In the African coast, where Europeans's houses are scattered, overgrown with mimoths with suspiciously dark, as if after a fire, greens, low-spirited fat banana palm trees, on the Asian shore of the sand of the ash-red sand. Slowly passes the chain of camels, calling the bells. Occasionally, some beast, a dog, maybe, hyena or jackal looks with doubt and runs away. Large white birds circle over the water or sit relax on the stones. In some places, the half-risk arabs, dervish or so, the poor who did not have place in the cities are sitting at the water itself and look at it, without breaking as if the sorcerers. Ahead and behind us are moving other steamers. At night, when the searchlights light up, it has the form of a funeral procession. Often you have to stop to skip the counter ship, passing slowly and silently, like a concerned man. These quiet clocks on the Suez Channel doubt and lull the soul, so that she caught her out of the wretched charm of the Red Sea.

The hottest of all seas, it represents the picture of the formidable and beautiful. Water as a mirror reflects almost the sheer rays of the sun, exactly above and below the molten silver. Ryabit in the eyes, and the head is spinning. There are parts of Mirage, and I saw a few deceived by them and broken ships. Islands, steep cliffs scattered there and Syam, are similar to other African monsters. Especially one completely lion, prepared for the jump, it seems that you see the mane and an elongated face. These islands are uninhabited due to the lack of sources for drinking. Going to the board, you can see water, pale blue, as the killer's eyes. From there, sometimes pop up, frightening the surprise, strange volatile fish. The night is even more wonderful and malicious. The southern cross somehow hangs on the sky, which, as affected by the wondrous disease, is covered with golden rash of other countless stars. In the West, Zarnaya flaRE: it is far in Africa tropical thunderstorms burn the forests and destroy whole villages. In the foam left by the steamer, whitish sparks flashed - this is a sea glow. The daily heat slept, but in the air there was a unpleasant raw duddy. You can go to the deck and forget restless, full of bizarre nightmares.

We threw anchor before Jedda,<…> Where we were not allowed, because there was a plague. I do not know anything more beautiful than bright green chalks of Jidda, bordered by a slightly pink foam. Not in honor of whether them and Haji Muslims, who were in Mecca, wear green chalms?

While the company's agent has prepared different papers, the senior assistant captain decided to draw sharks. A huge hook with ten pounds of rotten meat, tied to a strong rope, served as a rod, float depicted a log. Three more than an overnight await last hour.

That shark was not visible at all, they sailed so far that their pilots could not see the bait.

Shark is extremely short-sighted, and it always accompany two pretty small fish, which suggests it to prey. Finally, in the water there was a dark shadow of the plant in length, and the float, wrapped around several times, dived into the water. We jerked for the rope, but the hook was pulled out. Shark only bit his bait, but did not swallow it. Now, apparently, the disappearance of the appetizing meat is distressed, it swam the circles almost on the surface and splashed the tail on the water. The confused pilots were rushed here. We hurried to throw a hook back. Shark rushed to him, no longer embarrassed. The rope immediately stretched, the threatening burst, then weakened, and a round-haired head with little evil eyes seemed to be ramp. Ten sailors with efforts dragged the rope. Shark fuckedly drunk, and it was heard, as she hit the tail about the board of the ship. Assistant captain, having frowning through the board, at once he released five bullets from the revolver. She shuddered and a little stych. Five black holes seemed on her head and whitish lips. Still - and pulled it to the board itself. Someone touched her head, and she clicked her teeth. It was seen that she was still completely cozy and going with the forces for a decisive battle. Then, having tied a knife to a long stick, the captain's assistant strongly and dexterly stuck it in her chest and, having gone, brought a cut to the tail. Water was poured, mixed with blood, pink spleen Arshina is two magnitudes, the spongy liver and the gifts fell out and stuck in the water, as a strange form of jellyfish. Shark was immediately easier, and it was easily pulled out to the deck. Ship Kok, armed with an ax, began to chop her head. Someone pulled the heart and threw it on the floor. It pulsed, moving there, then frog frogs. In the air stood the smell of blood.

And in the water, the very side of the eminent Lotsman fussed. His comrade disappeared, obviously, dreaming to hide somewhere in remote bays shame of involuntary betrayal. And this, faithful to the end, joked from the water, as if wanting to take a look, what they are doing with His Mrs, spinning around the floating internships, to which other sharks were already approaching with very unequivocal intentions, and expressed his luckless despair.

Shark cut off his jaw to snatch teeth, the rest was thrown into the sea. Sunset on this evening over the green flames of Jeddah was wide and bright yellow with the scarlet stain of the sun in the middle. Then he became a gentle-fawn, then greenish, exactly the sea was reflected in the sky. We raised anchor and went straight to the southern cross. In the evening I brought me three white and gear tooth sharks. Four days later, passing the irresistible Bab El Mandant Strait, we stayed in Djibouti.<…>

We moved from a ship to shore in a motor boat. This is an innovation. Before that, they served jerful yalks on which rowed bare Somali, quarreling, fooling around and at times jumping into the water like frogs. On the plane coast of Bells scattered there and Syam at home. A governor's palace in the middle of the coconut and banana palm trees rummaged on the rock. We left things in customs and walking to the hotel. There we learned that the train with which we had to go deep into the country, moving on Tuesdays and Saturdays. We had to stay in Djibouty three days.

I did not really upset a similar wire, as I love this town, his peaceful and clear life. From twelve to four hours of afternoon, the streets seem to be extinct, all the doors are closed, occasionally, as a sleepy fly, some Somaliest arm. In this watch, it is customary to sleep just like our night. But then it does not know where the crews appear, even cars managed by the Arabs in the Pestry Chalms, the White Helmets of Europeans, even bright suits of the ladies. The terraces of both cafes are full of people.<…> Then everyone go for a walk. The streets are full of soft bold dusk, in which the houses built in Arabic style, with flat roofs and teeth, with round braces and doors in the shape of keyaches, with terraces, arcades and other checks - all in dazzling white lime are clearly identified.<…>

In the mornings, the Somalis of the Issa tribe came to my hotel, and I wrote down their songs. I learned from them that this tribe has his king<…> Hussein, who lives in the village of Haraua, in three hundred kilometers south-west of Djibouti; that it is in a constant enmity with the living north of them from Danaklyami and, alas, always won the last; That Djibouti (in Somali Khapada) is built on the site of non-resident oasis before and that in a few days the path from it there are also people who worshiped stones; Most of the same faithful Muslims. Europeans who know the country well, told me even that this tribe is considered one of the most ferocious and deserted throughout East Africa. They attack usually at night and cut off everyone without exception. Conductors of this tribe cannot be trusted.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the letter A. A. Akhmatova. Djibouti, April 1913:

My unhealthy passed perfectly, the forces are growing every day. Yesterday I wrote a poem, send it to you. Write in Dira Daua, what do you think about him. On the steamer I tried to write in the guile style, but I could not. It raised my respect for her. My diary is successful, and I write it so that it can be directly typing. In Jedda from the steamer, we caught a shark; It was really a spectacle. It took two diary pages.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the "African diary":

Three days passed. On the fourth, when it was still dark, the Arab servant with a candle bypassed the hotel's rooms, you will be leaving for Dira Daua. Still sleepy, but satisfied with the morning chill, so pleasant after a musty heat of noons, we went to the station. Our things were brought in advance in the manual trolley. Travel in the second grade, where all the Europeans can usually drive, the third class is intended solely for the natives, and in the first one, which is twice as much as much as not better than the second, usually drive only members of diplomatic missions and few German snobs, cost 62 francs per person, somewhat expensive For ten hours of the path, but these are all colonial railways. The locomotives are loud, but far from justified names: "Elephant", "buffalo", "strong", etc. Already a few kilometers from Djibouti, when the rise began, we moved with the speed of one meter per minute, and two negra went Ahead, sprinkling the sand wet from the rain rails.

The view from the window was dull, but not devoid of majesty. The desert is brown and rude, weathered, all in the cracks and dust of the mountains and, since there was a rainy season, muddy streams and whole lakes of dirty water. Dig-daish runs out of the bush, a small Abyssinian Gazelle, a couple of boacks, they always walk in pairs, looking with curiosity. Somalis and Danakly with a huge diswater chain stand, leaning on a spear. The Europeans explored only a small part of the country, it is the one that the railway passes that on the right and to the left of it - the mystery. In small stations, naked black children stretched to us the handms and competently, like some song, dragged the most popular Word on the most east: Bakshish (gift).

At two o'clock in the afternoon, we arrived at Aisha station 160 km from Djibouti, that is, at half the road. There, the Greek Buffetchor prepares very hawk breakfasts for passing. This Greek turned out to be a patriot and us, as Russians, accepted with open arms, took us the best places, served himself, but, alas, from the same patriotism, the Turkish consul was extremely unknown to our friend. I had to take him aside and make a proper suggestion, which was very difficult, as he, except Greek, spoke only a little in Arabic.

After breakfast, we were announced that the train would not go further, as the rains were blocked and the rails hang in the air. Someone was angry, but could it help. The rest of the day was in a volatile anticipation, only Greek did not hide his joy - he not only had breakfast, he had dinner. At night, everyone was accommodated as he could. My companion remained to sleep in the car, I carelessly accepted the proposal of the French conductor to lie down in their room, where there was a free bed, and until midnight had to listen to their barren-ridiculous chatter. In the morning it turned out that the path is not only not corrected, but what needs at least eight days to be able to move on, and that wishes can return to Djibouti. Wish everything, with the exception of the Turkish consul and two of us. We stayed, because at the station Aisha life cost a lot cheaper than in the city. Turkish consul, I think only from a sense of partnership; In addition, we had three of us a vague hope to somehow get to Dira Daua earlier than eight days. Afternoon we went for a walk; The low hill were crossed, covered with small sharp stones, forever tracked our shoes, chased at a big barbed lizard, which was finally caught, and a kilometer was unnoticed by three from the station. The sun clone to the sunset; We have already turned back, as suddenly saw two station soldiers-Abyssinians who fled to us, waving a weapon. "Soundernu?" ("What is the matter?") - I asked, seeing their alarmed faces. They explained that the Somali in this area is very dangerous, throw a spear from the ambush in passing, part of the mischief, part of because, by their custom, can only marry a person. But they never attack armed. After me, I confirmed the validity of these stories, and I myself saw in the Dira-Dau's children who threw the bracelet into the air and pierced him on the summer deftly asked spear. We returned to the station conceded by Abyssinians, suspiciously looking at each bush, every bunch of stones.

The next day, the train arrived from Djibouti with engineers and chernocument to fix the path. The courier driven mail for Aborne arrived with him.

By this time it turned out that the path was spoiled for eighty kilometers, but that you can try to drive them on Dresin. After many prospecting with the chief engineer, we got two drowsins: one for us, another for baggage. Aschkeres (Abyssinian soldiers) were placed with us, intended for us to guard, and courier. Fifteen inclusive Somali, rhythmically shouting "Yeidea, Yeideja" - the genus of Russian "Dubinushka", not political, and working, - took the handles of Dresa, and we went.<…>

How to be a traveler who in good faith in his diary his impressions? How to admit to him at the entrance to a new city, what is the first attracts his attention? These are clean beds with white sheets, breakfast at the table, covered with a tablecloth, books and the possibility of sweet rest.

I am far from denying a partly notorious charm of "hillocks and streams". Sunset in the desert, crossing through the spilled rivers, dreams at night, spent under the palm trees, will forever remain among the most exciting and wonderful moments of my life. But when the cultural everyday life, who has already managed to become a fairy tale, instantly turns into reality, - let the city lovers of nature laugh - it is also beautiful. And I am gratefully remembering Tu Gekko, a small, completely transparent lizard running along the walls of the rooms, which, while we had breakfast, caught mosquitoes over us and at times turned our ugly, but scratching fruit.

It was necessary to make a caravan. I decided to take servants in Dira-Daua, and Moulov buy in Harrara, where they are much cheaper. The servants were found very quickly. Hayle, Negro from the Shangay tribe, badly, but Boyko talking in French, was taken as a translator, Harrarite Abdulaye, who knows only a few French words, but she has his own mule, as the head of the caravan, and a couple of rapid black vigor, like ashkeres. Then they hired on the top mules tomorrow and with a calm heart went to wander around the city.<…>

In the native part of the city you can wander all day without getting bored. In two large benches belonging to rich Hindu, Jesadzhi and Mohamtali, silk-shied golden clothes, curves sabers in the red safyanic sheaths, daggers with silver chasing and all sorts of eastern ornaments, so caressing eyes. They sell important thick Hindus in dazzling white shirts under the coats and in silk caps pancake. Yemeni Arabs run, also merchants, but mainly commissioners. Somalis, skillful in various kinds of needlework, immediately on the ground mats with mats, are prepared by the measurement of sandals. Passing in front of the huts of Glasses, you hear the smell of Ladan, their beloved smoke. In front of the house of Danakil Nagadras (actually, the head of merchants, but in reality - just an important chief) hangs the tails of the elephants killed by his ashkera. Before the fangs were hung before, but since the Abyssins won the country, the poor Danaklym had to be satisfied with one tails. Abyssins with guns behind the shoulders go without an independent view. They are conquerors, it is indecent. And now the mountains begins the mountains, where the herds of the bavians burst up the poultry and fly birds with tremendous red noses.<…>

The day passed the shower, so strong that the wind demolished the roof from one Greek hotel, the truth is not particularly strong built. In the evening we went out to go and, of course, see what was with the river. It could not be recognized, she was bubbled as a mill's meline. Especially in front of us, one sleeve, enhancing a small island, was rampant unusually. Hasive shafts of completely black water, and not even water, and the lands and sand raised from the bottom, flew, rolling over each other, and, hitting the protrusion of the shore, went back, rose to the post and roaring. In that quiet matte evening it was a terrible spectacle, but beautiful. On the island right in front of us stood a big tree. Waves with each blow exposed his roots, hiding it with splashes of foam. The tree shuddered with all the branches, but kept firmly. Under him almost no land remained, and only two or three roots kept him in place. Between the audience even betrayed in place: it will stand or not stand. But, another tree, pulled somewhere in the mountains in the mountains, flew around and hit it as a ram. An instantaneous dam was formed, which was enough for waves with all his severity to hit the dying. In the midst of the Water, heard was heard, as the main root was burst, and, slightly swinging, the tree somehow immediately dived into the whirlpool with the entire green blizzard branches. The waves fleecely picked it up, and through the moment it was already far away. And while we watched the death of a tree, the child drowned us downstream below, and all the evening we heard how the mother was alike.<…>

The next morning we went to Harrar.<…>

The road resembled a paradise on good Russian chests: unnatural green grass, too splashing trees branches, big colorful birds and herds of goats in the slopes of the mountains. Air soft, transparent and as if permeated gold grains. Strong and sweet smell of flowers. And only strangely disharmoned with all the black people around the surrounding, as if sinners, walking in paradise, for some not yet created legend.

We drove trot, and our ashkers fled ahead, still finding time and laugh with passing women. Abyssins are famous for their rapidness, and here the general rule is that at a large distance the pedestrian always overtakes the equestrian. After two hours, the way began: a narrow path, sometimes turning directly to the groove, the mountain was almost stuck, on the mountain. Large stones bore the road, and we had to tear with mules, walk. It was hard, but well. It is necessary to run, almost without stopping, and balancing on sharp stones: you get tired so less. Heart beats, and captures the Spirit: Like you go for a love date. And for that you are rewarded with unexpected, like a kiss, the smell of a mountain flower, suddenly opened views of a gentle blurred valley. And, when, finally, half-faded and exhausted, we climbed the last ridge, we sparkled in the eyes of so long unprecedented water, as if a silver shield, the Mountain Lake Adeli. I looked at the clock: the rise lasted one and a half hours. We were on Harrar Plateau. The area has changed dramatically. Instead of mimoz, banana palm trees and hedges Mokhai; Instead of wild herbs - diligent farmland fields. In the Galasian village we bought figs - the genus of thick pancakes from a black dough, replacing bread in Abyssinia, and ate it, surrounded by curious children, with our smallest movement, ripped out. From here to Harrar went straight road, and in some places there were even bridges, defeated through deep cracks in the ground. We traveled the second lake - Ormaria, twice the first, shot a swamp bird with two white growths on the head, spared a beautiful Ibis and after five hours I found yourself in front of Harrar.

Already from Mount Harrar represented a majestic view with its houses from red sandstone, high European houses and sharp minarets of mosques. It is surrounded by a wall, and through the gate is not missing after sunset. Inside, this is completely Baghdad, the times of Garuna al-Rashid. Narrow streets that are rising, they are lowered by steps, heavy wooden doors, squares full of halby people in white clothes, the court, immediately on the square - all this is full of charm of old fairy tales.<…>

In the evening we went to the theater. Tafari's grandmad saw once in the Dira-Daua performances of the arrival of Indian troupe and so admired that he decided to deliver the same sight and his wife as much as it became. The Indians went to Harrar at his expense, got free of free and perfectly burned. It was the first theater in Abyssinia, and he had a huge success. We hardly found two places in the first row; For this, two respectable Arabs had to sit down on the attached chairs. The theater was simply booth: low iron roof, unscreased walls, an earthen floor - all this was, perhaps, even too poorly. The play was complicated, some Indian king in a phoney-lush suit is fond of a beautiful concubine and neglects not only with his legitimate wife and a young beautiful son, but also by the affairs of the Board. The concubine, Indian Fedra, is trying to seduce the prince and in despair from failure slanders the king on him. Prince is expelled, the king spends all his time in drunkenness and sensual pleasures. The enemies attack, he is not defended, despite the persons of the faithful warriors, and is looking for salvation in flight. A new king is entering the city. By chance on the hunt, he saved from the hands of the robbers to the legitimate wife of the former king, which followed the exile for his son. He wants to marry her, but when he refuses, says that he agrees to treat her as his mother. The new king has a daughter, she must choose the groom, and all the circumferential princes are going to the palace. Who can shoot the enchanted onion, will be the chosen one. The expell prince in the clothing of the beggar also comes to the contest. Of course, only he can pull onions, and everyone is delighted, having learned that he is royal blood. The king, together with his daughter's hand, gives him the throne, the former king, repenting in his delusions, returns and also refuses his rights to reign.

The only director's trick was that when the curtain was lowered, depicting the street of a large eastern city, in front of him, the actors, disguised by the citizens, were played by small funny scenes, only distantly belonged to the overall action of the play.

Decoration, alas, were in a very bad European style, with complaints of beautiful and realism. The most interesting thing was that all the roles were performed by men. Oddly enough, but this not only did not harm the impression, but even strengthened it. A pleasant uniformity of votes and movements was obtained, which is so rarely found in our theaters. Particularly good was the actor played by the concubine: a buried, vyondressed, with a beautiful gypsy profile, he showed so much passion and cat grace in the scene of the king's seduction, that the audience were sincerely excited. Especially blurred eyes from the firming theater of the Arabs.

We returned to Dira Daua, took all our baggage and new ashkers and three days later on the way back. Overalls at half lifting, and it was our first night in a tent. There were only two of our beds, and between them, as a night table, two placed one on another suitcase of the type of produced Groom-Mramiahlo. Not a burnt lantern spread the stench. We have dinner by China (flour, stirred in water and roasted in a frying pan, the usual food here on the way) and boiled rice, which we ate first with salt, then with sugar. In the morning I got up at six o'clock and moved on.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the letter to the elder ethnographer of the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography L. Ya. Sternbergu. Dire-Daua, May 20, 1913:

Multi-resumed Leo Yakovlevich, as you can see the stamp, we are already in Abyssinia. It is impossible to say that the journey began at all without adventure. The rains blocked the railway, and we drove 80 km on Dresin, and then on the platform for the transport of stones. Arriving in Dira-Daua, we immediately went to Harrar to buy mules, because here they are roads. Bought for so far, very unmarried, on average 45 p. a piece. Then they returned to Dira-Daua for things and there were 4 servants, two Abyssins and two gallops, and the fifth translator, a former student of the Catholic Mission, Gallas. From Harrara, I have telegraphed the Russian Messenger in Addis Ababa, asking for me to leave for a passage, but I have not received the answer yet.

My route is more or less installed. I think to go to Bari, from there on the River Whabi Sidamo to the Lake Zvai and, having passed on the land of Arussus on the Schucher mountain range, return to Dira Daua. So I will all the time in the least studied part of the country of Galla. Thanks to the rain, it is not hot, everywhere there is grass and water, i.e. everything that is needed for caravan. True, the rivers are sometimes bottled, and in Dire-Daua almost every day there are accidents with people, but with such mules as I have, the danger is reduced to a minimum.

Tomorrow I hope to speak, and the months you will not have Westa from me. Or rather, in late August, I will immediately come to the museum. I ask you in half June to send through Lyon loan at Banc of Abyssinie in the Dire-Daua 200 p. I count on them to pay with ashkera and return. Russian Vice-Consul in Djibouti M-R Galeb had a number of important services to me: I made a free passing of weapons in Djibouti and in Abyssinia, a discount on baggage luggage on the railway, let us give advisory letters.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the "African diary":

To travel by Abyssinia, you must have a pass from the government. I highled about this Russian attorney in affairs in Addis Ababa and received a response that the order to give me a pass sent to me the head of the Harrarian customs Nagadras Bistati. But Nagadras announced that he could not do anything without the permission of his head of his grandmother Tafari. To the grandfather followed to go with a gift. Two dozen Negro, when we sat for a grandfather, put the box with a vermouth bought to his feet. It was done on the advice of Kalil Galeba, who presented us. The Palace of Deadyazcha, a large two-storey wooden house with a painted veranda overlooking the inner, rather dirty yard, reminded not very good cottage, somewhere in a pargole or terokers. A dozen two aschkers pushed in the yard, kept very unclosed. We climbed the stairs and, after a minute expectation on the veranda, entered the large-elusive carpets of the room, where all the furniture consisted of several chairs and velvet chairs for grandfather. Santyazach rose to us towards and shook our hands. He was dressed in a shamma, like all Abyssins, but on an accurate face, bored with a black curly beard, along a large, full of advantage of the Gazelle eyes and throughout the manner to stay in it immediately could be guessing the prince. And it is not surprising: he was the son of Race McConen, a cousin and friend of the emperor Menelik, and led his genus straight from King Solomon and the Queen of Sava. We asked him about the pass, but he, despite the gift, replied that without orders from Addis Ababa he could not do anything. Unfortunately, we could not even reach the Nagadz certificate that the order was received, because Nagadras went to look for a mule who disappeared with mail from Europe on the road from Dira Daua to Harrar.

Then we asked the grandfather about permission to take a picture of him, and he immediately agreed on it. A few days later we came with a photographic apparatus. Ashkera spread carpets right on the courtyard, and we removed the grandfather in his parade blue clothes. Then there was a queue for the princess, his wife. She sister LJ Jässu, heir to the throne, and, therefore, the granddaughter of Menelik. She is twenty-two years old, for three years more than her husband, and her face features are very pleasant, despite some completeness that has already spoiled her shape. However, it seems she was in an interesting position. Deadyasch showed the most touching attention to it. He himself sat in the desired pose, recovered the dress and asked us to remove it several times to have success. At the same time, it turned out that he speaks French, but only hesitates, not without reason finding that the prince indecent to make mistakes. Princess, we removed with her two girls' maids.

We sent a new telegram to Addis Ababa and began to work in Harrara. My companion began to collect insects in the vicinity of the city. I was accompanied by two times. This is a surprisingly peaceful occupation: wander through the white paths between coffee fields, climbing the rocks, go down to the river and find tiny handsome men everywhere - red, blue, green and gold. My companion collected them a day before the fifth, and I avoided taking the same. My job was a completely different kind: I collected ethnographic collections, stopping the passersby, without constraining things to look at them on them, weirdly entered the house and revised the utensils, lost my head, trying to achieve information about the appointment of any subject in not understanding What is all, Harrarits. I have to mock me when I bought old clothes, one merchant cursed when I thought it to take a picture, and some refused to sell me what I asked, thinking that it was necessary for me for witchcraft.<…>

However, everything has to come an end. We decided that Harrar was studied, as far as our strength was allowed, and since the skip could be obtained only after eight days, lighting, that is, only with one cargo mule and three ashkera, went to Jijiga to the Somali tribe, Gabarizal.

Alexandra Stepanovna Svechkova (Urban. Gumileva), Mother N. L. Svechkova:

N. S. and in Wild Africa never lost the presence of the Spirit. So, told Kohl little, it took them to find a person-translator who knows French. Fathers of Jesuit sent several young people, but none of them wished to go to the uncharted places to the savages. There was one - Fasik, who even knew a few words in Russian. But the trouble: he did not let aunt and, at the time when it was necessary to perform a caravan, sent people to lead him. The dispute began, the FASIC was pulled to the right, pulled to the left, and it is not known how it would have ended, if a certain Abyssinian would not appear, waving a wand over his head. N. S., without thinking for a long time, I snatched my wand from him and swung on him. "What are you that you," the Fasik shouted, "this is the same judge!" Everything ended quite safely, the judge, examining the paper, allowed to take a translator and even gave N. S. his wand, a sign of his power, after which everyone went to the aunt of Fasika, where they dressed to sunset the sun.

Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev. From the track diary:

Released at 12 through the Tamo gate.

Stopped at the Nagadras House, at the invitation of the boy-translator went to say goodbye, then Dragled Abdulai, and we went to the land of Gorijian. Aged, donning chicken and whale in olive oil, which is wonderful.

Released at 11. In the morning Kolya collected many insects. The road straight to the west, the same as in Dira-Daua. Many cracks in the rainy river time.

Initially, the road is completely red, then the Amaresse River, Lake Or Vodelia and Adeli, both salty. Funny ban shoot birds. Moul chromas, I walked almost all the time on foot. On both sides were the fields of Mais and the hedge of Mokhai, somewhere sown grass.

Released at 10, stopped at five; the first half to the south, the second - to the West; In half the way they saw Gara Muleta north of kilometers 15 from us; pierced through the thickets of Mokha region, the rubing of them; The road was littered with spiners, in many places the degious area; Tree groves, rare fields of foolo; Stopped at the Water River (stream) the foot of the mountain of Golley; They killed duck, at night they shot hyenas. The country is called Meta, the head of Kenyazzhech Walde-Mariam Abaynch with 1000 soldiers.

Forests begin; We passed the mountain of Gola and stopped at Mount Waldzhira; A quarrel with Gerlezch Kyle and the judge.<…>

Were visiting Gerrestov's wife; lunch in the English tent, conversation; Russian doctor; Child and Padmeritsa (from Grimma's fairy tales).

They walked 6 hours south; gentle descent to apia; the road between the chain of low hills; barbs and mimosa; Strange flowers - one seems to be crapped back into petals and stamens forward; beat off the caravan; decided to go to the city; rose under the cliffs of one and a half hours; Sleeping city; The oncoming vice-governor brings to the caravan and drinks tea with us, sitting on the floor.

The city was founded thirty years ago by the Abyssinians, called Ghana (Galiska - Mathenitb, i.e. good), he lives the head of the field of phytuari asfa with 1000 soldiers of the garrison; houses hundred. Church of St. Michael; Strange stones, with holes, and one on the other, there are even three on each other, alone resemble a rustier with a booming, other - sphinx, third - cyclopic buildings. Immediately we saw a fun adaptation for the dickery (Jarta); He comes at night there is a foolo, and the Abyssins put the genus the telegraph wire or the concierge rope, one end of which is in the house, and on the other there is a wooden dish and empty pumpkins. At night, they jerk for the rope, noise is heard in the field, and jart runs away. At the bottom of the road to the south there are lions, in two days - rhinos.

Released at 12 o'clock in the afternoon. Large and easy descent. The villages are less and less. Barha begins (desert) and cola. High yoke and mimosa. Wild cat, turkey, leopard. Water passed, stopped in the desert at 5 o'clock. In a small village, which we have passed, customs. Officials fled after us and did not want to accept permissions, requiring such bipaths from nagadras. "The dog does not know my lord." We drove them.<…>

Released at 6 o'clock. The heat is deadly. Ashkera rebellious. Soothing their promise feed them in the desert. We go among the barns. Lost the road. Night without water and tent. Scorpion fear.

Released at 6 o'clock. Walked without a road. Two hours of tank with running water. By 11 o'clock they went around to look for the road; All spines finally a conditional shot. Came to the Gallas village. They began to ask to sell milk, but we were announced that it was not. At that time, Abyssinians arrived (two equestrian, five servants - Ashkera atoms, who were asked to go with us in Ghana). They immediately entered the village, penetrated at home and got milk. We drank and paid. Gallable old women were fascinated. The Abyssinians did not drink, was Friday, they tried for us and, looking for us in the footsteps, drove into this slum. We did not know the road and grabbed Gallas so that he spent us. At this time, they came running from pastures of men, terrible, half-liters, threatening. Especially one is straightforward a stone century. We swore for a long time, but finally, they, having learned that we were paid for everything, we went to accompany us on the road, having received Bakshish from me, thanked, and we broke up friends.

Stopped at 4 o'clock in the water. In the evening history. On the eve I disappeared by the burbus, and on the Abyssinian custom, my aschkeres should have paid for him. They revised all their belongings and, finally, began to make things to us along the Ashquera Road, who beat him down from their owners, Naked, Shangal. He came to complain about us and offered to go to the judge. It was pregnant to pretend that there were no judges in the barge, and at the time, as he was kept, other harshs of his bag. The first thing there was our burbus. The thief wanted to escape, it was grabbed and tied. The Abyssinians who came our friends looked down to us shackles, and treasured the thief. Then he announced that he was stolen 6 thalers. I should pay, and I announced that I lay out this money on my askers. Then the thief searched and found money in his raincoat. This indulted everyone.

Released at 6 o'clock. For hours to 11 bought oil from the chief of the village (cities). Bought a sink.

The house lives calves and camel. Then I could not find the waters for a long time and went to 4.5 hours. There are only ten hours. Tired scary. Swimmed in the tank of Arshin depth. He fell asleep on the stones without a tent, at night it was raining and dulled us.

They walked 1.5 hours. Then the Abyssins shot an antelope, and we shot the skin for a long time. The cords and kondors flew. We killed four, with two removed the skin. Shot on the rayne. Bullets slide on feathers. Abyssinians say it is a teaching bird. In the evening showed.<…>

Abyssinians lost their mules and went to look for them. My askers demand them to wait, as they only know the road. I agree to wait until 12 o'clock. In the terrible heat we go out. We go to 5.

Barha looks like a fruit garden. Here it becomes lighter and less. Stopped at the village, at the entrance. So that the cows are not rushed after everything immediately into the gate and did not break them, a large pit is burned in front of them. We entered the village of six only straw huts (women and children wear skin pieces instead of clothing). Visited school. Bought a spoon and resin for ink. Teacher scary rogue. He studied at the Somal. Children on vacation, p<отому> C.<то> Cattle case.