Our camp was on more than one occasion visited by the wild beasts of the neighbourhood. Leopards and hyenas were fairly numerous here, while the deep musical roar of the lion was frequently heard resounding through the bush at night.
One morning as I was making my toilet preparatory to an early start on a hunting trip, I saw the beautiful sight of a herd of about fifteen West African haartebeest coming down to drink at the stream. My attention was at first attracted by hearing the thundering of many hoofs on the stony ground outside the camp. Rifle in hand I cautiously crept out of my tent, and soon they came into full view, never suspecting the near presence of man, for our camp was well concealed in the trees and they did not get our wind. There is something awe-inspiring to my mind at the spectacle of wild animals when they are unaware of the proximity of man and are seen thus in their native haunts. Game is always most beautiful when it is most natural and unalarmed. It makes one feel a brute to shoot it, thereby destroying the life of a fine creature.
The West African haartebeest here were the best I saw during my travels, and I secured two very good heads. These animals were numerous in the Wasulu country, herds of twelve or fifteen being frequently seen, although I never saw them in larger numbers than this. This animal is, I suppose, quite the most clumsy-looking of all West African antelopes, its curious, ill-shaped head and lumbering gait reminding one more of a donkey than any other animal. I spent three days thus and enjoyed some good sport with antelope. During my expeditions I used to come across tracks of elephant fairly often. These appeared to be at least a month old, and I began to doubt the veracity of the statement that these animals had been seen here more recently than that. It seemed to me evident that they had retired towards the better watered country in the direction of the Ivory Coast forest some considerable time previously.
The dry season was now in full swing and streams in the Wasulu district were drying up rapidly. I observed two distinctly different kinds of tracks. One lot appeared to be those of the ordinary elephant, while the other lot seemed to belong to a smaller species of that beast. On discussing the matter with my hunter he confirmed my theory by stating that the smaller tracks were those of a herd of the “red” elephant. This animal I had never yet seen, but had heard it mentioned for the first time by some French friends. At Faranah they had again told me of its existence. So I was very eager to get a specimen. The elephant appears to be of a reddish grey hue, probably terra-cotta would be a better description, and to the best of my belief is peculiar to this region, although as I never saw one, nor could I even see the skin of one in the district, I am not in a position to give any more authentic information on the point. It has the reputation of being very fierce, and is said to charge without provocation, but I am inclined to believe this is an exaggeration. It is certainly a good deal smaller than the ordinary African elephant, and carries quite small tusks by all accounts.
That day my two hunters returned, and much to my disappointment their reports of the elephant were most discouraging, and made me only more certain that the animals had left our vicinity some time back, which would make my chance of ever coming up with them exceedingly remote. The same evening I got news, however, from the chief of Doulajan that he had heard on the most reliable authority that the herd had been seen at a place three days’ march from our camp, close to Odienné. I at once determined to proceed there on the chance of there being some truth in the yarn, although I must confess that I was not very sanguine as to the success of my quest.
Striking camp at an early hour in the morning, we marched for three days through a more wooded country, gradually verging into forest-land. Tracks of elephant were numerous, but these were by no means fresh. Finally, I was forced to abandon the enterprise, for I was daily getting farther and farther from my northerly route, and could afford no more time to spend in hunting in this country.
The dense forest we were now in reminded me how extremely difficult it is to see these huge beasts in country of this nature. I recollect once when tracking a large herd from an early hour until late in the afternoon, through a swampy country, I had quite lost all traces of them and began to despair of finding them again. I was on the point of turning homewards, but thought I would first cross a neighbouring swamp to have some lunch on the opposite bank, which appeared dry. Being on the point of sitting down I suddenly observed what appeared to be a moving leaf. On closer inspection it proved to be the ear of an elephant not more than twenty yards away and concealed in the foliage. A little manœuvring resulted in a successful stalk, and the animal, which was a fine tusker, was bagged. These beasts, although not actually deaf, get so accustomed to forest sounds that they had never heard our somewhat noisy approach across the swamp.
My plan was to return to Falama on the Sankarani River, where I had arranged for fresh carriers to meet me, and from thence to proceed to Bamako by the shortest route. The hunting villages which are passed in this district gave a very fair indication of the game to be found in the neighbourhood. It is the custom to erect outside the village a high altar, built up with the horns of antelope and the skulls of almost every conceivable beast shot by the local hunting people. This altar is erected for fetish purposes, the heads being allowed to remain there till they rot. The native hunter has no sense of sport as we look upon it. He kills wild animals primarily for the meat he will get, and, as trophies of the chase, horns and skins have no value in his eyes. Some of the more dangerous animals may sometimes be hunted for the danger involved in attacking them, but even then it is done more out of bravado than from the love and excitement of the sport.
One of my hunters had a native flute which he would play at night in camp to amuse himself and his companions. The instrument is a very simple one, made out of a reed-cane, having a few holes punched in it to form the notes, and a roughly shaped mouthpiece. The music is melancholy, and by no means disagreeable. He was a lithely built, active fellow, making a picturesque figure as he sat in the glow of the firelight playing strange native melodies on his instrument.
Braimah had a greater weakness for “Juju” than the others. His chief care, after seeing to his gun before our start every morning, was to find out if Diana intended to favour our sport that day. The method adopted to carry out this test was a curious one. The only things necessary to work the charm were two kola nuts. His procedure was as follows: