CHAPTER XI
Koulikoro — Niger Navigation Service — Rapids on the Niger — The Hourst Expedition — An explorer’s death — Horse-breeding.
ON the 27th of February I left by the morning train for Koulikoro. The director of the eastern section of the Senegal-Niger Railway, to whom I was introduced, travelled down in the same carriage. Commandant Digue is a most interesting man, with a vast experience of railways in West Africa, and possessing a reputation for great energy and ability. He was formerly an officer of Engineers, but has now retired from the French Army. In the early days of the railway construction many brave men laid down their lives while overcoming the engineering difficulties which had to be faced, and he is one of the few survivors of those hard times.
The line runs through a grassy bush-country a few miles from the left bank of the Niger, and occasionally the passenger catches a glimpse of that river as it twists and turns on its north-easterly course. The train was a slow one, taking three hours to cover the thirty-five miles and stopping at every station. On approaching Koulikoro the country becomes more hilly on the north and west, while the river is gradually seen more distinctly on the east. For West Africa the station is a large and busy one. In the railway yard there are repairing shops with skilled workmen capable of carrying out almost any work that is necessary. There are a large amount of rolling stock and a big engine-shed. The day was Sunday, so our train contained several Europeans who had come over from Bamako to spend the day with friends here. Several people were on the platform awaiting our arrival; amongst them the local railway officials in white uniform were conspicuous, having come to meet the director of the line.
We went up to the hotel, where I took a room and installed myself for the next two days. This hotel is similar to the one at Bamako, but is more comfortable and a good deal cleaner. The hotels were built by Government and are the property of the railway, but are let to private individuals, who are responsible for the entire management, and charge their own prices. One of my fellow-passengers that morning was a French officer coming down on duty to Koulikoro. We made friends in the train and he had promised to call for me in the afternoon to take me to visit the Director of the Niger Navigation Service. About four o’clock we set out on our visit. The official in question was at home with his wife and two daughters. Madame was a charming lady from Algeria, and she and her daughters had but lately returned from an adventurous trip down the Niger to its farthest navigable point, a place called Ansongo, a distance of about 900 miles. They told me they were the first white women ever to visit Ansongo, and I can well believe that few ladies would care to risk the dangers and hardships of such a voyage.
My new friend, Lieutenant Langel, sang us some most amusing songs to the accompaniment of one of the young ladies, and finally had only just time to catch the evening train back to Bamako. M. Langel, although only a lieutenant, had seen a considerable amount of service in West Africa, having commenced life there in the ranks. He had a large fund of funny anecdotes about the country and was as pleasant a companion as can be imagined. I was indebted to him for introductions to several influential officials it was my pleasure to meet later during my travels.
The Niger at Koulikoro
Here are collected a number of craft of all kinds, e.g. stern-wheelers, launches, barges, and steel canoes, for it is here that the navigation of the Niger really begins. Koulikoro workshops are very self-contained, all repairs being effected on the spot.
The Niger at Ségou
This is a prosperous town, where a good deal of tobacco and cotton are grown. Near Ségou we encountered the worst sandbanks of the voyage. In places the channel was not eighteen inches deep, and we had considerable difficulty in passing.
After the departure of the train an adjournment was made to the hotel, where I met the Resident of Koulikoro and his wife. A tennis-court had been made in the gardens, and it was decided to play. I don’t think I have ever played the game under such strange conditions as I have here. The net was locally made out of native fishing-nets, the ground was the flattest piece of rock we could find, with the court-lines marked out in white chalk, while the balls were of ordinary india-rubber, and no one possessed tennis-shoes. The racquets were, or rather had once been, tennis-bats, and were the only part of our equipment resembling the real article. However, it was an amusing game, causing almost as much merriment to the players as it did to the spectators. After tennis we all assembled at little tables in front of the hotel, as the custom is, to take an apéritif. Besides myself there were only three men staying at the hotel; these were permanent residents, who were employed in the Government Offices and found it more convenient to live at the hotel than to have a separate establishment in the town.
As I previously mentioned, the terminus of the railway and the head-quarters of the Niger Navigation Service are here, consequently there is a large number of European officials employed at Koulikoro. The navigation service is entirely controlled by the Government. There are several stern-wheelers, small steam-launches, steel canoes and barges in the fleet. These vary considerably in size and comfort. The depth of the Niger alters greatly according to the season of the year. At certain times during the dry season there is so little water in parts of the Upper Niger that navigation even by shallow-draught barges is exceedingly difficult.
In the old days, when there was no craft on the river bigger than the native canoe, journeys were long and tedious. From Koulikoro to Timbuctu, even with relays of canoemen at frequent intervals, it was impossible to cover the distance in less than three weeks, but now a very different state of affairs exists, and the journey can be done on the average in twelve days. Since the railway has reached Koulikoro repairing-shops and a dock have been made, and the fleet of steaming-vessels has been greatly augmented at this port of the Niger.
One of my companions at dinner was a platelayer in charge of a section of the line between Koulikoro and Bamako. As I happened to mention to him that I should much like to see the rapids on the Niger below Bamako, of which I had often heard, he very kindly offered to take me next morning by trolly to a station within easy walk of some of the rapids. I was delighted at the offer, which I gladly accepted.
Next morning, as the sun was rising, I met my friend at the station, where he had his trolly ready. Our destination was a little place called Kiénéfala, about twenty miles down the line. It was very pleasant in the early morning air as we glided swiftly along, running by our own momentum easily down the declines, while our trolly boys, four stalwart Bambaras, pushed us up the inclines. There is something very exhilarating in the motion of a trolly. The sensation is that of being in a train, but with this advantage, that you have the benefit of being in the open air instead of being shut into a hot compartment. As we rattled merrily along we caught glimpses of bushfowl and guinea-fowl, who, scared by our approach, scuttled into the bush as we bore down upon them. Occasionally a duiker, or bushbuck, would be seen in the distance, terrified at the appearance of this strange, swift-moving object which invaded the privacy of their sylvan haunts. Whole families of monkeys were frequently to be seen gambolling on the track, along which they hurried as we made our appearance, only finally to dive into the bush as they realized the pursuing demon was overtaking them. Unfortunately I was never able to get close enough to these animals for a successful photograph.
In a little over two hours we arrived at the station, where we dismounted from the trolly. Half an hour’s walk brought us to the Niger and we were close to the rapids. There are two sets of rapids which interrupt the navigation between Bamako and Koulikoro. About eight miles below the former town are the rapids of Sotuba, and, below them again, the rapids of Kiénéfala, which we were now visiting. For many miles this section of the river is very rocky and, even for canoes, navigation is difficult. The water was low here and we were able to clamber over rocky boulders into the middle of the stream, from whence we got a capital view of the rapids. As we gazed up-stream we could see that the river was split into three channels, separated from each other by huge fragments of rock. Immediately in front of us was the centre channel. On each side of this channel was a rocky wall towering up to a height of thirty feet above our heads. Some two hundred yards away the water came swirling along in a seething torrent, until it suddenly reached the rugged precipice down which it fell in headlong impetuosity. It looked as if no craft could live in that pitiless, rushing stream, yet one or two Frenchmen have successfully descended those rapids.
At the bottom the water flows swiftly through a channel, said to be very deep, and then on for a couple of miles till the rocks begin to disappear and the three separated portions of the river reunite. The water below the rapids is of the most beautiful deep blue colour—a blue I have never seen in any other river, but strongly resembling the blue one sees in the Mediterranean. I could have stayed for hours watching this splendid sight; the grandeur of the rapids, the roar of the waters and the beauty of the blue stream at our feet carried me away from the commonplace doings of the world. It was one of those moments, which come to us all at times, when one feels mentally and physically in touch with nature.
My companion suddenly awoke me from my reverie, pointing to the sun, which was now high up in the sky. We had to get back quickly as the down train was due in less than two hours. After a little refreshment at the platelayer’s house near the station we mounted our trolly once more and proceeded on the homeward trip. At a little village called Madambougou, we halted to examine the graves of some Frenchmen who had been buried there. These men were members of the expedition which descended the Niger in 1884 under Lieutenant Hourst, the well-known explorer. Hourst was a naval officer who organized a small fleet of canoes for this expedition, and starting from Bamako with a few European companions and a following of native canoemen successfully descended the Rapids of Sotuba and Kiénéfala. After descending the Kiénéfala Rapids he made a camp near Madambougou, and, while there repairing damages to his canoes, he lost two or three white men from sickness, while others were unfortunately killed in a canoe accident. For many years the whereabouts of these graves could not be discovered, until at last, when the bush was being cut down in connection with some work on the railway line, the tombstones of the victims of the Hourst Expedition were disclosed. The little graveyard has now been cleared and is kept in good order.
A few weeks later I met a French naval officer, the Superintendent of the Niger Surveys, who had just arrived from France, and had come by river all the way from Bamako, descending the rapids en route. He, like Hourst, came down in an ordinary “dug-out” canoe, and, although successful, he informed me it was a thrilling experience and one he would not lightly undertake again. The smallest mistake or hesitation on the part of the steersman must result in the frail craft being inevitably dashed against the rocks, and there would be no hope for the occupants.
In the early days of French exploration an explorer called Maje had penetrated into the Soudan as far as Koulikoro. Just outside that village he was attacked by the inhabitants and killed on the hill which is to be seen at the south end of the place. Maje’s death was not avenged for some time, but his name has since been perpetuated in one of the stern-wheeler boats in use on the Niger; she was lying in the river when I was at Koulikoro, but useless till the next rainy season owing to the scarcity of water at that time.
That afternoon I walked out to Koulikoro Bara, two miles off, to call on the officers of the local garrison. A broad road leads to the village, and the officers’ quarters are perched on the top of a hill above it. The road had a soft, sandy surface and seemed to be a favourite resort for riders in the evening. When I passed some half-dozen natives were racing on their gaily ornamented steeds. Excitement among the spectators was running at a high pitch as the cavaliers came tearing furiously down the road, urging their mounts forward with wild cries and much spurring. The winner at the end of the course, shouting triumphantly at his victory, drew rein so suddenly as to throw his horse on to its haunches, to the imminent danger of those following, who narrowly escaped a collision.
I was shown round the barracks by a young artillery officer, who was temporarily in charge of the station, and he very kindly offered to lend me a horse for the remainder of my stay at Koulikoro. But I was unable to make much use of his offer, for when I returned to the hotel I found a message to say that the steam-launch would leave the following day.
The next morning I rose early as I had arranged to pay a visit to the horse-breeding establishment which was about three miles away. I was met by Captain de Franco, who took great pains to show me the well-managed stables under his care. Very few mares are kept, but the stallions of the establishment are sent out to districts where a good class of mare is known to exist, and the owners of the mares are bound to sell the progeny to Government should they be required so to do. The reason for this is that it was found many of the Government mares were infected with the trypnazome produced by the tsetse-fly-bite. Some of them died, while others dropped dead foals, and so it was considered to be a wiser plan to let the risk of these accidents be borne by the native rather than by Government. Captain de Franco informed me that they had treated several cases of this disease successfully with arsenic, but although the victim’s life was saved the horse was never as strong as he had originally been.
The animals were certainly some of the finest I had seen in the Western Soudan. Most of them came from the districts of Nioro and Sokolo, on the left bank of the Niger. They averaged a little over 15 hands, some showing distinct signs of Arab blood. We walked over to the riding-school, where the young horses were being exercised. The riders were native lads, most of whom were expert horsemen before they came to the establishment, I was told. The difficulty is not to teach them to ride, but to teach them to be good horsemasters. They have been used to the brutal native methods, using the cruel native bit, and regarding the horse as a machine incapable of feeling pain or fatigue. Once these ideas have been driven out of their heads they become very useful members of the stables.
The captain was very proud of his house, which he had built himself with materials specially ordered from France. It was certainly very comfortable and furnished with great taste.
I hurried back to the hotel to find my servant sending the loads down to the wharf. In the last two days I had rearranged my kit, and repacked the “chop-boxes,” and had reduced my possessions to twelve carriers’ loads. I now went to the Navigation Offices, where I purchased my ticket for Niafounké. I was introduced to the brigadier de vaisseaux, the European skipper of the little launch, with whom I had to share a cabin. Accommodation on the boat was limited. There was a tiny cabin with two berths “forard,” while other passengers had to pitch their camp beds, if they could find room, in the stern of the vessel. Some of the baggage was stowed in the hold, but the heavier articles were in the lighter which we were to tow. My fellow-passengers were two European non-commissioned officers. One of them was proceeding to the garrison town of Bobo-Djilassu, while the other was bound for Timbuctu. I must say I pitied these two men; they were so cramped in the narrow space allowed them that the discomfort of a journey down-river lasting several days must have been great. To add to the general unpleasantness there was only a thin awning to protect their heads from the fierce sun, so that they could never discard their sun-helmets during the day.
In the bows of the steam-launch there was a small space available, with just room for a couple of chairs, and in the centre of this space was the wheel, where the steersman took up his position. Our crew were mostly Bambaras, three of whom were river pilots. A special knowledge of the river is necessary for the man at the wheel, as the Niger is full of sandbanks, rocks and other dangers to navigators. Our vessel was the “Réné Caillé,” called after the famous French explorer of that name, who in the years 1827 and 1828 came across the Sahara from Morocco to Timbuctu, eventually returning to Europe by the same route. These boats are known to the French as vedettes, while the stern-wheelers are called monoroues; the latter appears to be a misnomer, for these boats have two wheels, and not a single one.
In the lighter towed behind us, besides the baggage, there was a collection of natives. Some of these were soldiers with their wives and families, and a very happy party they seemed to be as they sat on packing-cases at the bottom of the boat, chattering and laughing while we waited for the brigadier to come aboard. All formalities were at length completed, and the Director of Navigation came out of his office with our skipper to bid me good-bye.
As we steamed away from the shores of Koulikoro I felt my spirits rise at the prospect of seeing “fresh woods and pastures new,” and this bade fair to be one of the most interesting portions of my journey, for at last I was on the navigable Niger, after following it from its source for so many hundred miles and seeing it gradually grow from a tiny, insignificant stream into a fine, big waterway.