The people of this district suffered very severely in the Sofa wars. King Samory spread fire and sword throughout the land, and carried off many of the people into slavery. The inhabitants of Baro have only returned and rebuilt their houses in recent years. They have the downtrodden, low-spirited nature of men who have lived many years in captivity.
Another favourite method of killing game is by trapping it. The ordinary form of trap is a long barricade of sticks and palm leaves, built up to a height of several feet. At intervals in this hedge there are narrow openings, with a running noose cunningly concealed on the far side. A drive is organized and the animals are frightened through the bush in the direction of this barricade. On finding the openings they naturally endeavour to escape by them, but are caught by the noose as they struggle through. Traps of this nature are set for birds, as well as other small game. These barricades are frequently built as much as a mile long. Yet another form of trap I have often met with is simply a pit, dug to a depth of six or seven feet, at the bottom of which is planted a stake, having the sharpened end sticking vertically upwards, ready to impale the unfortunate animal which falls upon it.
The pits are usually covered over with leaves, and are thus invisible to the unsuspecting victim. These snares are often as dangerous to strangers as to game, on account of this invisibility, and it is dangerous to wander in the bush of a hunting country without a local guide. On one occasion one of my porters strayed away from camp after dark. In the morning he was not forthcoming to carry his load when all was ready for the start. A comrade suddenly recollected that he had gone towards the bush the previous night, and it transpired that he had not since been seen. Search parties were at once organized and despatched in search of him. After some time they returned with a very pitiable-looking object, whose clothes were torn, and whose nether garments were smeared in blood. This proved to be the lost carrier. He had fallen into a hunter’s pit some distance from camp, and all his cries for help had not been heard. Fortunately he was more frightened than hurt, and certainly profited by his experience, for he never wandered into strange bush again!
We had now left the belt of oil-palm country behind. The chief product of this district was rubber. The rubber is here the product of the rubber vine, and is seen in some quantities growing in the bush. But the majority of the rubber of French Guinea is grown in the east of the colony.
In the farms one notices particularly rice, maize and ground nuts. The latter is a pretty little plant with a small yellow flower. The nuts themselves grow on the roots in the ground, something after the fashion of a potato. The fruit is ripe after the plant has flowered. On one plant will be found as many as fifty nuts. They are much relished as a form of diet by the native, while the oil of the nut is a valuable thin oil, much used in Europe for making fine soaps, scents, and as a dressing similar to salad oil.
In the bush it is of the greatest use as a lamp oil, but must first be purified by straining through a thin cloth. For about three months I used nothing else, and found the light as good as that of a kerosene lamp.
The trader one encounters in the bush is the native trader, called the “Dioula.” The European trader is only met with on the coast, or in the biggest markets of the interior. The term Dioula merits a word of explanation. These people are supposed to have originally been wandering Mohammedan merchants, but now the term applies to any travelling trader. The Dioula is a very thrifty individual, usually commencing life in a most humble way. He probably leaves his village with only a few francs in his pocket, which he exchanges at a suitable opportunity for some article of commerce, such as salt. He then travels a bit nearer to the coast, exchanging his salt for rubber or perhaps ground nuts. This process he continues, constantly bartering one article for another, until he finally reaches the coast. Here he purchases cloth, or some such European goods, and works his way back to the interior, bartering as he goes. These traders often accumulate quite big fortunes by their keen business instincts.
Kouroussa lies on a bare open plateau, overlooking the Niger. It is the centre of the district of the same name, and is increasing in size and importance daily. The cause of its growth is the Guinea Railway, emanating from the coast port of Konakry, and destined to reach Kouroussa in a very short time. The total length of this line will be about 400 miles. The object of the railway is to tap the trade of the Futa Jallon region, and the fertile country on the banks of the Niger. As the Niger is more or less navigable from Kouroussa for canoes and quite small lighters, this will also open out a line of communication from the interior of the Soudan and French Guinea to the coast.
When I arrived at Kouroussa I went to pay my respects to the Commissioner. I found him contemplating a ruined building with a rueful eye. It was all that remained of his house. When I had introduced myself to him he proceeded to explain that the previous night his house had been burnt to the ground. The act was attributed to the spite of a native, who had been punished by him for some misdemeanour. Unfortunately it was difficult to collect proof against the man, and it appeared as if he would escape from the hands of justice. The people of this town are a strange mixture of several tribes. At or near this point three great races meet—the Susus, from South-Western Guinea, the Malinkés, from the south of the colony, and the Fulanis, from Futa Jallon, in the west. The consequence is that a hybrid race formed by the intermarriage of these different clans has sprung up. The natives are perhaps a higher class than the ordinary negro of Guinea. They inherit from the Fulanis a finer type of features, thinner lips and more aquiline noses. Their hair, however, remains woolly, and stamps them as undoubtedly negroid. They are chiefly agriculturists. Some, however, are cattle-men, owning considerable herds. They are distinctly lazy; this, perhaps, is hardly to be wondered at, as their country is fruitful and it needs but little work to get a living out of the soil. Besides, a man need only gather a small quantity of rubber in the bush to gain a livelihood.
At Kouroussa the French officials have a fine garden. Almost every kind of European vegetable is grown by them. The garden is personally supervised by one of the officers, who has a large number of native gardeners under his orders. From one year’s end to another they are never without some sort of vegetables. The garden is planted on the banks of the Niger, so that a constant supply of water is available. There is also a well-stocked fruit plantation, where one can enjoy a variety of tropical fruits such as oranges, pomegranates, bananas, etc. The French show a particular aptitude for gardening, and it was a point which struck me very forcibly that in almost every station where there was a European, a good garden would be found. On one evening of my stay at Kouroussa I witnessed the interesting and rather weird spectacle of a native dance. This particular dance was performed by some young girls, to the accompaniment of much tomtoming and cheering from the assembled throng of admiring onlookers.