CHAPTER XIII
A land of inundations — River transport in the Macina Province — The “King of Mopti” — Mopti — Prospects of the rice trade — Shooting wart-hog — Native huts — The protection of egrets — A lion as a pet — A dangerous joke — Scarcity of wood — The white ant — The driver ant.
MOPTI is the chief town in the rich province of Macina. The province lies entirely on the right bank of the Niger. It extends on the north to Lake Dhebo, on the east almost to Bandiagara, and on the south to the town of Djenné. The whole country is flat, except for a low range of hills to the northward. The towns are all built on slightly rising ground, in order to avoid the floods which cover the country-side at certain times of the year. Indeed, were it not for this slight elevation upon which they stand, they would inevitably be submerged; as it is, they stand out like islands from the midst of the surrounding plains. Practically the whole province is inundated during the season of floods by reason of its low-lying situation.
Two big rivers are the main factors in producing this state of affairs; one is the Niger, while the other is its affluent the Bani. Besides these two big streams there are numerous tributaries of both which play their part in the inundations. Macina is the richest grain-producing country of the French Soudan. Huge areas of land are under cultivation for rice and millet, large quantities being exported annually to feed the people of the Senegal Colony.
The soil is peculiarly adapted to these two cereals. Rice is grown on the clayey ground found close to the river banks, while the drier, sandier soil found farther away from the rivers is admirably suited to the production of millet.
The country may be, and frequently is, compared with Egypt. There is a striking similarity between the physical geography of the two lands. In each case a mighty river flowing through a flat, sandy country, fertilizes huge tracts of land on its banks by its annual inundations. But here the resemblance ends.
In Egypt nature’s handiwork is aided and improved by artificial irrigation—digging canals, making dams, etc.
In the Western Soudan nature does everything and man does nothing. The native is too lazy to dig irrigation canals, for he makes large profits out of his grain crops as they are, and has not the necessary ambition to wish to increase them. “I have enough to eat and clothe myself,” says he, “and there is sufficient to satisfy the needs of my wife and children; therefore, why should I toil further?” His mode of argument is a natural one and is very common in the fertile countries of West Africa. It is an acknowledged fact that not a quarter of the fertile land is under cultivation, and by judicious irrigation the fertile area could be more than doubled. The population is undoubtedly small compared with the area of the country, but the existing numbers could certainly grow far larger crops than they do at present, without greatly increasing their working days.
The population is augmenting rapidly, as a natural result of the existing prosperity and peace under the French rule; for this land suffered like so many others from the constant petty wars which were waged up to the end of last century.
In the season of the floods it must be a wonderful sight to gaze from Mopti over the huge lake which spreads its waters over the face of the land for 100 miles in one direction and sixty miles without interruption in another direction. I regretted that I was travelling in the middle of the dry season, and when I was at Mopti the rivers were confined within their natural limits. I was told that when the country was inundated the game all herded together in the few dry spots available, so that shooting them was positively slaughter. The unfortunate animals are frequently surprised by the sudden and rapid rise of the water, being either drowned or cut off without chance of retreat until the water subsides.
Owing to the existence of these waterways transport by river in the Macina Province is obviously greatly facilitated. The Bani River is navigable to Djenné, 100 kilometres distant, and even at times to the town of Sikasso. Djenné is not actually on the Bani, but a navigable creek connects the town with the stream. Lighters and launches can use that river as long as they can navigate the Niger; canoes can use it during all the months of the year without difficulty. The future of this province seems to be assured, for the increasing population will give a great impetus to rice and millet growing; in the course of time irrigation is certain to be introduced, and the revenue will go up by leaps and bounds.
Almost immediately opposite the junction of the rivers Niger and Bani there is a small town, with an imposing-looking building of wood and galvanized iron. The place is Charlotte Ville, while the house, I was informed by a pilot, belonged to the “King of Mopti.” Charlotte Ville is really a part of Mopti, and as one proceeds up the Bani the two other portions of which the place is composed come into view. These two latter, being quite two miles from the former, are close together, standing on the top of miniature elevations rising out of the surrounding plain.
The centre portion is the abode of the Resident and traders; all the natives are being gradually relegated to the southern part; while Charlotte Ville is noteworthy for being the residence of a French colonist. It was this colonist who was mentioned to me as being the “King of Mopti,” and I was much surprised to hear that his majesty was a white man. I believe his title originated from a large fortune which he had made, and lost, in the place. In any case he had lived many years at Mopti, had had large dealings with the natives, and was well known to them for many miles around. This gentleman supplied the Europeans with vegetables and fruit from a fine large farm which he had made on the place.
At Mopti proper, where the Resident resides, the place has quite a civilized appearance. On approaching it we could see several European buildings with tin roofs, conspicuous amongst the brown, mud-built native houses. The town is built well up on a slight eminence for the reasons previously stated, a wide stretch of sandy foreshore extending down to the water edge. A few leafy trees throw a grateful shade on the front of the town, otherwise trees are singularly deficient around Mopti. The surrounding plain, when I passed through, was covered with scrubby grass, very much burnt up at this time of the year. The market-place has a distinctly Moorish appearance. This portion of the town is behind the European quarters, and consists of small, narrow streets in which are long rows of mud-built booths, open at the back and front, where are to be seen the vendors of local produce, squatted native-fashion behind their wares.
The Resident was away when I arrived, but I was shown the places of interest by the Assistant Resident, who, by his wide knowledge of the natives and the country, had evidently an extended experience of them.
A road is being built from the main town to a low range of hills in the north, in order to connect the place with dry land during the floods. The road is an embankment some thirty feet above the plain and its length is to be about eight miles, so the task is not an easy one. Another road is to be constructed to unite Mopti proper with the native town. A fair road exists between Charlotte Ville and the Residency, so that very shortly the three portions of Mopti will be permanently connected.
Mopti. Street Scene
The appearance is decidedly Eastern. Natives squat in their mud-built stalls haggling, as is the manner of their kind, over some trifling bargain. Trade routes from the Ivory Coast, Gold Coast, Dahomey, and the distant eastern “Bend” of the Niger all send their quota of produce to this market.
A big school is also being built, to which the surplus pupils of the Djenné Arabic College will be sent. Altogether Mopti is a very go-ahead little town, and certainly one of the most prosperous on this section of the Niger.
At Mopti I was introduced to an interesting French merchant, M. Simon. This gentleman has done much to try to improve the quality of rice put on the market by the Macina Province. I mentioned that a quantity of this rice was exported to Senegal, but it did not find great favour there, because it was dirtier in appearance than the Indo-China rice, also the latter could be bought almost as cheaply at St. Louis as Macina rice. The high rate of transport on the Senegal-Niger Railway was largely responsible for this big price. M. Simon was of opinion that if the rice were cleaned locally it would be more appreciated at St. Louis, and, further, that by setting up a mill at Mopti, the cost of unhusking it could be materially reduced, permitting it to be sold at a lower price and thereby successfully competing with the Indo-China article. The rice is not really dirty, but grain grown in this country has a small reddish streak in it which gives it an unappetizing appearance in comparison to the milky white rice from Indo-China.
M. Simon has imported a mill which can perform three distinct operations:
(1) Clean the rice.
(2) Unhusk it.
(3) Scrape off the red skin.
This mill can treat 2000 tons per annum. M. Simon proposes to import a 100-h.p. engine which will be able to deal with 2000 tons yearly. By this means he will be able to so lower the cost of his rice as to sell it at St. Louis for 180 francs per ton, instead of 210 francs, the present price. When the Thies-Kayes Railway, connecting Kayes with the coast, is finished it is thought that it will be possible for Government to reduce the freights by rail considerably, and a further fall in the price of Soudan-grown rice may be confidently looked for.
Owing to the trouble in the engine-room it was found necessary to wait at Mopti for two days. Here also there was a suitable opportunity of punishing the malefactors who were responsible for the breakdown. We were all very pleased to hear that they had been heavily fined and had had their licences taken away by the Commissioner.
The night of my arrival I dined with the French officials, and one of the dishes consisted of some excellent venison, which I was told was a haunch of wart-hog. It appeared that these beasts were plentiful in the vicinity of Mopti, so it was arranged the next day to have a shooting expedition in the wart-hog country. The animals were on the other bank of the Niger, a very early start being necessary in order to reach their haunts by daybreak. My French friends were unable to accompany me at the last moment owing to pressure of work. At 4 a.m. I started off in pitch darkness, being paddled down the river in the Government canoe by a couple of sturdy Bosos.
The air was chilly at that hour as we moved swiftly through the water. Stillness reigned around us for the first half-hour, until, about dawn, the phantom shapes of flighting duck and geese began to show themselves. At the risk of being a bit late for the wart-hog I could not resist the chance of some sport with the duck on the river, so I ordered my canoemen to paddle the craft into a sheltered nook under the reeds, where I was concealed and in a good position for the birds as they flew overhead. We were evidently at last getting into the waterfowl region, for hitherto I had seen but few on the Niger. After some pleasant sport in which I managed to collect three or four varieties of duck, besides a goose and some teal, I urged the canoe boys to hurry on to the spot where I was to land. The sun was just rising as we stepped ashore at a small village. The country was a swampy tract along the river bank, such as the wart-hog delights to roam in. On the west, as the ground became firmer, it was covered with patches of mimosa bush and low scrub, where the pig would come and feed in the early morning and evening, while during the day they made their lair in the low ground. We had not gone far when a grey object loomed up in the still, uncertain light, looking so much like the trunk of a mimosa tree that I hesitated whether or not to fire. The object was not more than seventy yards away, affording an easy shot. During that interval of uncertainty I saw the thing suddenly turn and gallop away at a good pace, settling the question of its identity once and for all! It certainly was a wart-hog, so I took a flying shot at its retreating form. It careered on however, untouched, with its tail contemptuously curled up behind it, in the ludicrous fashion adopted by these animals when frightened. I had started the morning badly, and could not help thinking I was unlikely to get another such easy chance.
Tracks there were in plenty, but it was not till I was well on my way back that I managed to shoot one. My first indication of his presence was given by hearing the peculiar grunt to which they give vent when disturbed. He only trotted a few yards off, however, before halting to stare at me, thus giving an easy chance. These animals are very stupid and curious; indeed, I think they show more inquisitiveness than antelopes. I have frequently watched a wart-hog turn round to stare at his pursuer four or five times before he gets out of range; the result is, of course, often fatal to him. The curious excrescences on the beast’s face undoubtedly make him one of the ugliest of living creatures, and the white, curling tusks projecting from his jaws tend to enhance his uncouth appearance. Wart-hog are very plentiful all along the Niger, from Mopti to Timbuctu. The “Bend” of the river is one of their favourite habitats, particularly that portion where water is plentiful, and which is generally called the lake district. I have often seen them in droves of eight or ten, and have generally found them far from being wary, so that they are easily approached. Their sight is bad, but they appear to have a fairly keen sense of smell. I do not think they have very sharp hearing.
On the way back to the canoe we made a detour through some grassy country, where I picked up a couple of lesser bustard. I also saw some greater bustard, but my efforts to approach within rifle-shot of these very cunning-birds were unavailing. Both kinds of bustard seemed to be common about here, but the greater was less common than the lesser species.
At the village on the river bank I had to wait a short while for the meat of the wart-hog to be brought in. The headman of the place asked me, with well-meant hospitality, to rest from the heat of the sun in his house, but after a glimpse inside I decided it was far cooler and pleasanter under a tree in the open air. The houses in this part of the country are made of mud, circular in shape, with roofs of grass thatch. Verandahs are unknown, and as there is but one small door, ventilation is very indifferent. The houses in the hot weather are like ovens, for I suppose the temperature in the day is well over 100 degrees inside them. At night the numerous members of a large family are all crowded together in this small space, so that I should imagine the atmosphere must be even more intolerable than by day.
On our way up the river to Mopti I saw several white egrets. These beautiful birds, which used to abound on the Upper and Middle Niger, have greatly decreased in numbers during the last few years. The reason for this is that a great trade in egret feathers used to be done by French merchants, and thousands of the creatures used to be slaughtered to supply the market. I was told of several men who had made considerable fortunes in this way. The practice was particularly cruel, as the most valuable feathers only grow during the mating season, the massacre of the birds thus tending rapidly to wipe out the whole species. The matter was, however, strongly represented to the French authorities, who took strict measures to suppress the wanton destruction of egrets on the Niger. A fine of 1000 francs is now imposed on any offender, and the result of this law has had a most salutary effect in preventing these birds from being shot, so that it is much to be hoped that in a few years they may have regained their former numbers. The best feathers are found on the back, and comparatively few can be obtained from one bird, consequently a large number of egrets must be killed to produce a fair “bag” of feathers. Besides the white egret there is also a grey egret. The latter variety is not so valuable as its white relation, but the colour is a very beautiful French grey.
At Mopti one of the merchants had a tame lioness. This beast was quite a cub when it was captured, and the story of its capture is rather an interesting one. One day when shooting near the river banks he had killed the mother of a big family of lion cubs, and was leaving the scene of the exploit when he heard a whining noise in the bush hard by. On searching in the foliage he discovered this young lioness, which refused to follow the example of its brothers and sisters who had all bolted at the report of the rifle. This little beggar appeared to be heart-broken at its mother’s death, refusing to leave the spot. She was easily captured, and has been a pet ever since. She was about twelve months old when I made her acquaintance, being kept chained up in the courtyard at the back of the trader’s house. Her owner says she is perfectly harmless, but I would not feel inclined to trust her very much—her manners were decidedly rough! She used to play with the dog when younger, and I was told they were fast companions. A beast of this description is certainly difficult and expensive to feed when it arrives at maturity. Our friend in this case used to make a meal off a big sheep or else two goats daily. She was not given a full ration, for, as the Frenchman her master explained, if she were too well fed she would grow so strong as possibly to be unmanageable. I am afraid that even now she is getting out of hand, and any day may have to be destroyed to prevent a disaster.
While at Mopti I met a young Frenchman who had been wounded in rather a strange way when on a hunting expedition. As may be gathered from the following story he was not very experienced, or such an accident could never have occurred. He and a friend had made up a shooting expedition in the same locality where I had been for wart-hog. They separated at one patch of bush, with the intention of meeting on the other side. The young fellow, thinking he would have a lark at his friend’s expense, and apparently never dreaming of the danger he might incur, made his way through the bush in the direction of his friend, halting every now and then to emit a grunt in imitation of a pig. The other sportsman, seeing a dark object half-concealed in the foliage, and thinking by the noise it made that it was a wart-hog, fired his rifle. To his horror as the object dropped it uttered an unmistakably human cry of pain. He then discovered that he had fired at his friend, wounding him severely in the leg. Under the circumstances the latter was distinctly fortunate not to suffer worse injuries. He might very easily have been killed, and, of course, no blame could have attached to his companion. The young man had been on crutches for some months at the time I saw him, but luckily the injury would not permanently affect him. Another fortunate point in the business was that the bullet was not a sporting one, but solid-nosed, and simply went straight through the leg, emerging on the other side without shattering the bone, as it unquestionably would have done had it been of a different make.
A Captive Lioness at Mopti
This animal was about a year old and had been brought up from days of cubhood by its owner. The beast had an uncertain temper, so could scarcely be called an affectionate pet. She had quite recently sprung on a sheep which had unwarily wandered within range of her chain, and made a substantial meal off the carcass!
Before I left Mopti the Commissioner returned. He had been to Djenné to buy wood for building the school. It is a strange fact that at Mopti there is practically no wood. Almost the only wood suitable for building purposes in this part of the French Soudan, and indeed for many hundred miles down-stream below Timbuctu, is the wood of the dum palm. At Djenné this tree grows profusely.
The great enemy of the carpenter in West Africa is the white ant. This tiny creature has a most voracious appetite for wood, but certain kinds, amongst others the dum palm and the cocoanut palm, are impervious to his attacks. White ants always work in large numbers. They can be seen travelling along in armies of several thousand, marching in single file or two deep, and following a little groove or channel which they have excavated for themselves. Their presence in wood is first detected—if you are lucky—by observing a narrow streak of earth running along the object they are attacking. This is in reality a tunnel, which covers them and affords them shelter while they work at the wood underneath. They are most persistent little creatures, seldom abandoning the object they are devouring until they have eaten right through it.
If you are not fortunate enough to discover their presence by the appearance of the earthen tunnel, your first intimation will probably be given by the sudden collapse of the particular article upon which they have concentrated their efforts. If this happens to be one of the uprights which support the roof of your house, even if you have the good luck to escape without personal injury, it is trying to suddenly find the building in ruins. Hence the necessity of using a wood which can resist their onslaughts. Tarring wood will to a certain extent keep them off, but it is by no mean reliable. The only way to preserve wooden boxes and similar articles, which generally rest on the ground, is to put saucers of water underneath, for the ants will not then be able to climb on to the wooden surface.
Ants of several species are common in West Africa. Another kind, which is in many ways more irritating even than the white ant, is the driver ant. This animal also travels in big armies like the one already referred to. The “driver” is only found in bush-country. I never came across it in the drier, sandy soil of the Western Soudan, where vegetation is not so luxurious as in the countries nearer the sea-coast. He is brown, and larger than the white ant. His particular hobby is to bite. He is certainly an adept in the art of biting, as his unlucky victim soon discovers to his cost. The “driver” is often seen on a bush path in the daytime, when the best way of avoiding a close acquaintanceship is to leap over the track he is following, and then vigorously shake your feet as soon as you have got well out of his range, for despite all precautions some of the followers in the army will be fairly certain to have succeeded in attaching themselves to your legs as you passed.
But when the “driver” elects to come at night, as he frequently does, you probably have no warning of his approach until you feel his bite. Once they have settled on a victim they swarm mercilessly over him in thousands, and, if left to work their evil will unmolested, they will not leave the object of their attacks until they have devoured it. I recollect on one occasion having a very miserable night owing to “drivers.” I had gone to bed rather tired after a long day’s march, when I suddenly woke up with unpleasant stinging pains in my legs. I quickly realized that I had been attacked by “drivers.” Leaping out of bed and striking a light I discovered my blankets were covered with a black swarm of these horrible creatures, several of which had settled themselves on my limbs with some tenacity. On summoning my servant we tracked the long line for about a hundred yards down the clearing in which I was camped to some dank vegetation out of which they were emerging. The only chance of turning them aside and getting a little sleep that night was to light a fire across their tracks.
To add to the general discomfort it was pouring with rain, and a fire was not an easy thing to kindle; however, at the cost of most of the kerosene of which I was possessed, we managed to light a fire and head them off. In such cases it is usually the best policy to shift your camp and leave the ants the masters of the field, for they are extremely hard to turn aside, and I have seen them put out a fire by sheer force of numbers. In some parts of the country, where the natives are pagans and indulge in human sacrifice, a common method of killing their victim is to tie the individual up, stripped of clothing, in such a position that movement is impossible, leaving the “driver” ants to consume the body. The tortures of such a slow, agonizing death must be terrible. A friend of mine once had two puppies devoured in this way. His fox-terrier bitch had a litter of three puppies one evening, and the following morning only one remained. The ants had invaded the dog’s basket during the night, and the mother had only been able to save a single member of her family from her pertinacious enemies.