One of the plants collected by Antonio de Benedictis, director of the Department of Agriculture in Asmara, was the holotype of Ocimum forskolei, possibly the closest relative of sweet basil, O. basilicum. The holotype is the actual physical specimen on which the formal description of a new species is based, and that’s a picture of the herbarium sheet of de Benedictis’ specimen, collected at Dogali in Eritrea [] nine years before he met Vavilov. []
Local people in Eritrea use O. forskelei against “nuisance insects,” including mosquitoes, and it works. Furthermore, a combination of O. forskelei and human odour tends to divert mosquitoes with catholic tastes to goat odour, if goats are nearby. It also diverts them to human odour without the basil. The message is clear: if you want to reduce mosquito bites while out and about in Eritrea, put some O. forskelei at the head and the foot of your bed, and keep a goat nearby.
I doubt Vavilov knew that.
Notes:
March
1927
Asmera is a civilized city with large public gardens, colourful flower beds, paved roads and satisfactory hotels. I went to the governor of Asmera to surrender the arms, no longer needed. The governor invited me to supper in the evening, so that I could meet all the local dignitaries. Among the guests there was a director of the Department of Agriculture, Dr Benedictis. [] A plan was worked out for a new itinerary, in which Dr Benedictis himself took part. It was necessary to have a look at all the main areas of Eritrea and to visit an experimental estate of a scientist by the name of Balderati. [] He was an agronomist who had worked there for many years and was the author of a beautiful work on the ecology of Eritrea.
Notes:
March
1927
In contrast to Abyssinia, there is a great variation of climates, soils and other natural conditions in Eritrea. Toward the north, in the vicinity of Sudan, the climate becomes drier. In Cheren there are about 600 mm, of rain instead of the 1500 mm, common in Abyssinia. This is the realm of the majestic baobab trees (Adansonia digitata). The open spaces in the mountains with individual baobab trees, shooting up from the low-grown savannah, present a peculiar picture. In April the leaves fall off and before one’s eyes appears a curious sight of enormous trunks with a multitude of branches, spreading out like hands. The trunk not rarely reaches such dimensions that it would be possible to accommodate a large house with several rooms or an entire apartment inside it.
The ethnic composition had also changed. There were new languages. The people were, indeed, similar to the Amharans but their customs were completely different. The method of making bread was particularly interesting and the first of its kind I encountered in this country. Round stones are coated with a dough made from wheat or teff. [] A fire is lit and when only glowing embers are left, the stones covered with dough are placed on them. Of course, the bread becomes scorched and great dexterity is necessary so that it will not be completely burnt up.
Notes:
March
1927
After parting with the hospitable Italian consul [] and reorganizing the caravan, I proceeded toward the border and took a short road in the direction of the capital, Asmera, [] which is situated in a mountainous area.
In essence, the mountainous Eritrea is a continuation of Abyssinia. Asmera is situated at an altitude of 2380 metres. There the basaltic soils are black in colour. The climate had become drier. Here and there the caravan passed large and small oases with wild date palms. In front of them a wall of wild olive trees (Olea europaea var. sylvestris) opened up. The Eritrean olive trees have small fruits, definitely inedible and tasteless. The wild date palms have similarly inedible fruits. Involuntarily you wonder what an enormous change would take place in this country if instead of the wild ones, cultivated date palms were grown and instead of the wild olive trees the Mediterranean kind was planted. Attempts to cross them have still not met with any noticeable results because of the remote distance between the cultivated olives and the wild Abyssinian ones. When grafting them big burls form. []
Cars and trucks run from Adi-Ugri onward. [] On one of the latter all the luggage and I myself were loaded. A triumphal hour of parting from my fellow travellers ensued. For two and a half months I had covered more than 2000 km together with them. In spite of all the trouble and difficulties, everything had been accomplished: an enormous treasure had been collected in the form of thousands of samples of seeds. The people in the caravan parted with me reluctantly, especially apprehensive of meeting again with the highwaymen from whom we had successfully escaped. It was an amicable parting. The Amharan, lent to me by the Italian envoy and Cassius, the head of the caravan, went with me to Asmera to help purchase necessary goods and return from there.
The roads had already become very different, no longer trails but excellent highways. The skill of building them has been preserved from the time of the Roman Empire. The Romans and to a certain extent also the Italians, construct beautiful roads. We passed rapidly through a forested area of wild olive trees. Plantations with coffee trees, papaya … and gardens began to appear.
Notes:
This passage from Vavilov’s bad luck tale brought me up short:
Owing to the abrupt shift to abundant fodder after a rather long fast, the stomachs of the mules had become distended and presented a rather typical picture of tympanitis. Two mules had died.
I “know” enough to know that at face value tympanitis ought to be an inflamation of the eardrum, and it is. But I don’t know whether it means something entirely different to an equid veterinarian. As luck would have it, one of my best friends is a world-renowned horse doctor, and this (edited for decency) is what he had to say. []
The condition the guy is describing is acute gastric tympany, but in fact he was probably wrong and they had tympany of the caecum (the large brewing vat which is akin to the rumen, but as the horse was designed by an [incompetent engineer] it has no burping mechanism to let out the products of fermentation.).
What happens is: when you do feast after famine, the microbes go berserk, produce lots of gas, and if the gas can’t fart out, which it can’t if this happens so quick that the physical distension of the caecum compresses the out-path (rectum and colon) against the body wall, then they just balloon up and die, often of toxic shock coupled
with physical inability to breathe because the diaphragm gets physically pushed out forward into the chest.
In the old days, heroic vets used to trocharise (puncture) the balloon of the caecum, and they were saved … and then they died later of peritonitis.
Tympanitis is inflammation of the eardrum, not commonly fatal, or even diagnosed in the mule I suspect.
Just thought you would want to know.
Notes:
February
1927
There were still a few days left before reaching Eritrea. Fields had disappeared. The area had become more sparsely populated and increasingly more beautiful. Ahead a panorama of a picturesque valley opened up. In hollows and along deep ravines there were groves of wild palms (Phoenix abyssinica), a relative of the date palm (P. dactylifera). [] The slender trunks were adorned with bright crowns of pinnate leaves. Below them there was a dense undergrowth of grasses. It was difficult to imagine a more comfortable place to stay overnight. But it was almost completely uninhabited and it was only with great difficulty that we obtained a bag of durra (Sorghum) for the mules.
In the morning there was bad luck again. Owing to the abrupt shift to abundant fodder after a rather long fast, the stomachs of the mules had become distended and presented a rather typical picture of tympanitis. [] Two mules had died. Toward evening four more were lost. In order not to lose the valuable load, the entire caravan, starting with its commander, had to proceed on foot while the remaining living mules were loaded to their limit. Afoot for 3 days we finally reached Admure, a small town close to the border of Eritrea, where there is an Italian consulate. [] All the difficulties were behind us. Here it was possible to obtain if not mules, then at least horses and fodder. And it was possible to rest and put the caravan back in order.
Signor Polera, who at this time carried out the responsibilities of a consul, turned out to be a hospitable and cultivated person, the author of a large book devoted to the women of Abyssinia. [] Apparently, to a considerable extent the book owed its existence to his Abyssinian wife. A second book, also a large volume, was presented to me. It was devoted to the Church in Abyssinia.
Notes:
February
1927
Beyond the [Tekezé] river there was trouble again. The Amharan attached to us by the Italian ambassador claimed that the road along which the caravan was proceeding had become dangerous since ahead of us were many robbers, so it was necessary to choose a different road. The people in the caravan looked with fear to a stand of sorghum at the side of the road. To encourage them it was necessary for me to go in front. We had succeeded in advancing for only a few hours after crossing the river when people with guns, obviously used to attacking caravans, appeared from behind a dense thicket. The unexpected encounter with a European apparently had a certain effect on them. In this country it is well-known that every European is well-armed and therefore it is better to leave him in peace to avoid any unpleasantness. Polite bowing began and invitations were extended to stay overnight in the nearby village. It was late and we had to stay somewhere for the night, but how should we deal with this? The physiognomy of the people encountered did not inspire great confidence. A consultation took place in our tent. [] There was without doubt a danger. In the best case we would only lose our mules.
The council decided to present the leader of the gang with two bottles of brandy, the last ones remaining of our supply for special occasions. In case this did not have the desired result, we would pay him off with thalers but that was only to be used as a last resort. It was necessary to be prepared, to load the good revolvers, to brew enough wild coffee and not doze off during the night. The gift of the two bottles of the best five-star brandy was apparently very well received. The guide returned from the mission slightly tipsy but with fried chicken, a pot of honey and armfuls of flat-cakes made of teff. However, the hospitality was not to be trusted. At three o’clock in the morning, long before sunrise, the caravan was aroused without any difficulty. The people understood the situation very well. It was necessary to quickly get out of this place and to liberate ourselves from the undesirable companions while they were blissfully sleeping. At four o’clock, in the dark, the caravan started out on a path leading to the trail, leaving the drunken gangsters to sleep until morning.
Notes:
February
1927
Again a descent began, into the canyon of the Takkaze (Tekezé) river, flowing not far from the Eritrean border. This is a deep river with gently sloping banks supporting a vegetation of wild, small-fruited castor-bean plants. Just like the Nile, the Takkaze is full of crocodiles. We stopped to camp overnight on a sandy beach, where we erected the tents. During the night something incredible happened. The guide had fallen asleep; I was writing the diary in the light of a small lantern. After a short while the entire floor of the tent began to stir, becoming covered by a large number of enormous, black, venomous spiders and scorpions. The guide, roused from his sleep, screamed to high heaven. The spiders had gotten into the beds with their ‘fangs’ bared. We jumped out of the tent, some people already bitten. It was necessary to flee this dangerous place. But crossing the ford at night was even more dangerous: we had to wait until dawn. However, it was also necessary to find a way out of the danger. It was evident that the spiders and scorpions had been attracted to the light. To extinguish the light meant to leave a considerable number of the uninvited guests in the tent. I suggested that the lamp be moved outside. The effect did not wait for itself; immediately, a mass exodus of spiders and scorpions began. The light of the lantern was narrowed to a slit and a literal drill began. The spiders and scorpions formed ranks along the light beam and gradually a straight, living line appeared, although some lingered behind. To deal with the stragglers the lantern was brought back into the tent, where all the remaining spiders and scorpions gathered in the narrow strip of light. Carefully and slowly the lamp was again carried out, drawing the rear-guard out of the tent, where the lantern was left in the open. Thus, the tent was freed from the pests and it was possible to sleep calmly.
February
1927
On the way from Fiche through Godzham [] to Gonder and Aksum the caravan often passed cemeteries. These are something like botanical gardens. Usually the cemeteries are situated in forests and around the graves all kinds of trees are planted, in part brought from far away. Here also rare species, including citrus trees, are frequently encountered. But, in general, groves of eucalyptus, considered especially fit for the souls of the Abyssinians, are planted. [] The cemeteries attract travellers for their shade but also because there it is always possible to obtain fodder for the mules and provisions for the people. According to custom, 40 days after a burial, a funeral feast is held in the cemetery. It is self-evident that at the feast there is an abundance of honey and flat-cakes made of wheat and teff. In other words, this is a kind of permanent inn, where without fail the most needed things can be found.
Members of the Field Museum 1927 expedition to Abyssinia
At the same time as Vavilov and his caravan were exploring Gojjam, so was an expedition from the Field Museum in Chicago. Did their paths cross? A quick search suggests not, but …
Notes:
February
1927
I made a first-class discovery between Gonder and Aksum. In a field I found a peculiar awnless hard wheat, previously unknown. For decades, plant breeders from different countries have tried to produce awnless hard wheat by crossing ordinary awned hard wheat with soft awnless wheat. The creation of such a wheat is extremely difficult because of the great genetic distance between hard and soft wheat. However, in Abyssinia, nature herself had created an awnless hard wheat, analog to such a kind of soft wheat. The grain was still not harvested. I collected thousands of ears. From both a practical and a theoretical point of view, this was, indeed, the most interesting find during all time spent travelling in Abyssinia.
Show on map
