Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

The country between Kouroussa and Kankan consists of rather thick bush, except for a stretch of more open grass-land between the Niger and its tributary the Niandan. Rice is rather scarce in this region. The native lives principally on sweet potatoes and cassada. The Niandan is a stream of no great size, but with a very rapid current. It is not too deep to be fordable, but the swiftness of the current makes it dangerous to try the experiment. It was here that I first saw horses in any numbers during my journey, so we were evidently out of the tsetse fly belt, which is so fatal to these animals. An old chief rode up to the stream as we arrived, mounted on a horse with gay trappings, and his toes thrust into the curious, heavy iron stirrups always used in West Africa. The saddles are made of wood, with a high back, and are extremely hard, although not otherwise uncomfortable. The wickedest part of the saddlery is the bit. This is made of rough iron, having a ring through which the animal’s tongue is thrust, and a cruel spike so fashioned as to stab the roof of the horse’s mouth each time the reins are pulled; the inevitable consequence being that a horse’s mouth is almost always spoilt when he is young, and is usually in a lacerated condition. Malinkés are good riders, but atrocious horsemasters. Horses are generally ridden too young, frequently getting their backs strained from this cause. Animals here average about thirteen hands or less, and it is seldom that a good beast is seen, owing to the system of inbreeding which prevails.

The horses in this part of the country are not bred locally, but are imported from the south of French Soudan. Indeed, I much doubt if horses are ever bred in French Guinea, or anyhow in the eastern half of the colony.

The native’s chief delight is to gallop. He will often be seen careering along at racing speed, for no reason whatever except that he appears to think that the horse is only born to carry him at the top of its pace. These people are very fond of horse-races. Here, too, their one idea is to gallop hard the whole distance. Their knowledge of the staying powers of their animals seems to be strangely lacking. The result is that their horses finish at a snail’s pace and are quite exhausted. Besides, horses are generally grass-fed, and consequently very soft. In spite of all the bad treatment he suffers from, the native pony is frequently a hardy little animal, capable of doing a long day’s work, making one wonder what he might not be able to do if breeding were carefully attended to and the animals were well looked after.

I had no difficulty all this time in keeping the larder well supplied with birds, while an occasional buck brought joy to the carriers’ hearts. Bush-fowl and guinea fowl were sufficiently numerous in the farms on the roadside to provide for my wants. The day of my arrival at Kankan I had started in the morning, as was my custom, before the carriers, with my shot-gun on my shoulder, intending to do a little shooting on the way. Having secured all I wanted, I pressed on to the town, accompanied by one man to carry the birds. I have no doubt I looked an extremely uncouth and grimy figure, for I had been walking for some hours, and the road was hot and dusty. My costume, too, no doubt looked strange, consisting as it did of khaki shooting-breeches cut short at the knee and a rough khaki flannel shirt, open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. In spite of my curious appearance, however, I was much amazed to be mistaken for a villain intent on taking the life of the French Commissioner! Yet such was the case.

On approaching the European quarter I observed a native policeman, whom I asked to direct me to the Commissioner’s house. This individual, to my surprise, immediately seized me and attempted to wrench the gun out of my hand. It was with difficulty that I restrained my anger in time to prevent myself striking him, so sudden and unexpected was the onslaught. Fortunately at this moment the Commissioner, hearing the commotion, came out of his office, and matters were satisfactorily explained. It appeared that some time previously a native who bore a grudge against the Commissioner had attempted to shoot him, hence the policeman had been on the alert in case of another attempt. My black friend, in the zeal of performing his duty, had jumped to the conclusion that I was a would-be assassin, and had lost no time in trying to deprive me of my gun in consequence. I was much sunburnt at that time, and it is possible that I looked to his excited imagination almost as dark as his coloured brethren! That evening I dined with the official and his wife, and we laughed heartily over the dramatic nature of my arrival into Kankan.

I was rather surprised to find a French lady so far from the haunts of civilization, but was informed that there were two more ladies, the wives of French traders, in the town. The traveller in the bush cannot but be struck with the refinement brought by a woman’s presence to a lonely West African station. Colonials necessarily grow rough in their habits when removed from the gentle influence of woman’s society. In her presence the roughest of mankind feels softened, and his better nature seems brought to the front.

Kankan is a large town of 12,000 inhabitants. It owes its importance to its position in the centre of the rubber-growing district of Guinea. Moreover, before the appearance of the white man and the consequent development of the rubber trade, Kankan had for many years been a large native market. Probably the reason of this is that it lies on the Milo River, one of the few tributaries on this bank of the Niger which are navigable to any extent. From Kankan the French traders are enabled, by using this stream, to send boats with produce direct either to Bamako or Kouroussa.

There are no less than fourteen French trading firms established at this place. Their chief business is, of course, done in rubber. In addition to rubber, a large quantity of ground nuts, rice, millet and gum copal pass through this large market, while Moors from the north of the Senegal River, and Fulanis from the Middle Niger, bring herds of cattle for sale to the town. It is indeed an amusing sight to wander through the market-place in the morning, when it is crowded with a cosmopolitan collection of coloured races. People of every shade of colour will be seen. There is the negro from the coast, with a face almost as black as coal, jostling against the reddish-complexioned Fulanis and the pale-coloured Moors, while men and women of every intermediate hue are also to be seen. The babel of voices in many different tongues is most remarkable, and the French traders used to tell me that they require interpreters in about half a dozen different languages in their stores, for so varied is the speech of their customers.

At Kankan I saw for the first time those curious bars of salt transported from the desert salt-mines of the Sahara. They are brought many hundreds of miles for sale in the interior of Guinea, where salt is an article of considerable value. These bars weigh fifty to sixty pounds, and are here sold for as much as thirty francs. In the district of Kankan nearly every native is employed collecting rubber in the bush, which he brings to the French merchants for sale. The rubber vine grows in extraordinary profusion to the north and east of the district. On the latter side its range extends into the north of the Ivory Coast Colony. The vine should not be tapped before it is four years old, when the plant is about as thick as a man’s wrist. Unless it is cut in a spiral fashion the plant will be killed. Much harm was done to the rubber trade by the natives a few years ago by the wasteful manner in which they tapped the vines. They used to make deep, circular gashes completely round them, as by this means they were able to get the sap out more easily, quite heedless of the fact that by so doing they were killing the plants. Strict legislation has now been introduced to prevent this wasteful and wanton destruction. When I first saw men tapping rubber vines I was surprised to notice they invariably rubbed the place where the incision was made with some dirty-looking liquid. I was informed that this liquid was lime juice and water, the object being to cause the rubber to agglomerate as it exuded from the incision.