PART 7
WAR IS WAR
April 23.
The night passed comparatively peacefully. The alarm was raised twice,
but it turned out that the natives were simply coming to take away their
dead. At dawn, we set out and began to climb Mount Kastit. At nine
o'clock in the morning, we were at its summit, which rises 2600 meters
above sea level. A strong wind blew. The temperature was only 7o Reaumur
[48o F]. It drizzled a fine rain, and the half-naked Abyssinians
shivered from the cold. Even I, who was now no longer used to the cold,
became numb in my hands. The weather, by far, did not favor
observations. Only in the south I could make out the mountain I called
the Tsar's Cylinder, and in the east Mount Dime, and in the west Mount
Jasha. At nine o'clock in the morning, we went back down Mount Kastit
and went west along the ridge of the mountain range which stretches in
this direction.
As soon as the sun warmed up, the natives again surrounded our
detachment and gave us no peace with constant attacks.
At twelve noon we reached Mount Meru. From there Kanyazmatch Dubye and
Fitaurari Gebra Maryam went north with the whole reconnaissance
detachment. I was worried about the health of Zelepukin, and there was
no special need for me to continue the reconnaissance since the
geographical position of the Emperor Nicholas II Mountain Range was now
already well-known to me. Therefore, I separated myself from the
detachment and went straight to the bivouac of the main forces. With me
went my ashkers and several dozen Abyssinians. We walked until sunset,
the whole time surrounded by natives, and set up lodging for the night
at the foot of the mountain range, to the north of the place where I had
taken solar observations the day before. It grew dark. I hastened to
orient myself and to see if the bivouac of the main forces wasn't
visible from the mountain. Having called my gun bearer Abto Selassie, I
set out to a nearby hill. One of the officers, having noticed that I
went only accompanied by one gun bearer, followed me. Behind him his
twelve-year-old son carried his shield.
I had spent 12 hours in the saddle that day and hadn't eaten anything
for a full 24-hours. I do not know if it was for this reason or for some
other, but I was in some kind of a dreamy-philosophical mood: how many
victims had the conquest of this land cost? It seemed to me brim-full of
violence and injustice. Of course, a new phase in the history of peoples
is always paid for with sacrifices. But world justice and individual
justice are quite different from one another. Murder always remains
murder for us, whatever goal it may accomplish, and it is especially
immoral in relation to these peaceful, industrious people who never did
harm to us, whose land we now take away by force, using the superiority
of our weapons...
Blessings to all
Biniam
Arlington,Virginia,USA