Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

The first part of the journey lay across hills of laterite rock. Our track could only by courtesy be dignified by the name of a path. The country was practically uninhabited, although, as usual in this district, there were numerous traces of ruined villages, all testifying to the devastations of Samory.

At one place I saw the remains of a hut, rapidly falling into decay. I was rather surprised to observe a weather-beaten old board nailed on a tree opposite the door. This board had some writing on it, which was with difficulty decipherable. It stated that a man called Paul Rieu had for two years made his home in that hut, where he had stayed while seeking gold in the vicinity. As a proof of his words I could see pits dug at the small river near by, and evidently made by him during his search for the precious metal. He must have been all alone; and what a dreary life to lead in this desolate spot, with nothing but the wild African bush for miles on all sides! I conclude his search was not successful. The poor fellow must have gone away disappointed after two years of lonely toiling under the hot tropical sun.

After this the country began to get more open, and it was evident that we were rapidly descending towards the Sankarani River. We passed through a wide grassy plain on to the right bank of the river. It looked a likely place for kob, which are fond of the marshy swamps bordering on streams; but though I saw some fairly fresh tracks we did not come across any of these antelope. The river is about 100 yards wide here, and has a very swift current. I looked in vain for a canoe, as it was impossible to ford it. In the distance we could see a village on the far bank, but the people could not, or would not, hear our repeated shouts. A few shots from my rifle eventually brought out some men who half hid in the bush, thinking we were come to “make war.” Probably the last time they had heard rifles fired was during the Sofa war, and the unaccustomed sound called up unwelcome memories of rapine and slaughter. With some difficulty I managed to reassure them, and proceeded to explain we merely wanted a canoe to convey us and our belongings to the other shore.

We halted at the village, which was called Balandougou, and it was here that my troubles with the porters commenced.

In the afternoon I had been out to see if I could pick up a few bushfowl on some likely-looking farms close by, and on my return was met by Mamadu, who told me that he had heard the carriers talking about deserting me. Although I only wanted eight men, I was aware that it would be extremely hard to get any to replace them at this village, which had only a score of inhabitants, mostly decrepit men and women or quite young children. I was therefore determined not to give them the opportunity of bolting. Further, I was much annoyed at their faithless behaviour, after their promises to accompany me until I reached the Niger, if necessary. I summoned them at once, telling them I had knowledge of their intention to desert, and that any man attempting to do so would be flogged. They all denied they had ever been guilty of such a base thought! But, needless to say, I did not believe them. That night I made them all sleep in the same hut, pitching my camp bed outside one exit, while Mamadu was made to sleep outside the other.

This little arrangement successfully stopped them from carrying out any projects they might have formed. Next day I had to take precautions on the march to prevent their defection. I constituted myself rearguard, making my servant walk beside the leading carrier, and in this order we proceeded until we arrived at a large village about eleven o’clock. Here I decided to halt for breakfast and interview the headman with a view to getting fresh porters. As a matter of fact, the headman of the place was a local chief of some importance, as I soon perceived, when he arrived dressed in a finely embroidered gown and wearing a sword. Certain chiefs in Guinea are allowed by the French to wear swords as a mark of rank. He came with a picturesque following of courtiers, such as these men love to surround themselves with.

They have usually several advisers among them, and it is quite amusing to notice how the advisers often rule their king. Frequently, when asking a chief a question, one will notice that he is not even given the chance of answering for himself; his so-called adviser chips in with his answer before the chief has time to open his mouth! They came to the hut which had been prepared for my breakfast, sitting down at my invitation. After a lengthy palaver it was settled that eight carriers were to be sent to the spot where I should camp that night to replace my present gang. This seemed preferable to the alternative of waiting here till evening for the young men to come in from their farms, where they were now at work. I despatched Mamadu to inform my porters that they would be released that same night as soon as their reliefs arrived, and then settled myself down to breakfast. It never occurred to me that it would be necessary to any longer keep guard over them, as they now knew they would so soon be released.

After my meal I went outside the hut for a stroll, when to my disgust I saw only three carriers remaining, while a couple of them were just to be seen running as fast as their legs would carry them towards the bush in the distance. Having threatened the remaining three with dire vengeance should they try to follow their comrades, I despatched Mamadu to the chief to order him to have the defaulters caught without delay. At the end of a couple of hours the fugitives were brought back, and I was able to proceed on my journey. We resumed the march in the same order as that morning, for it was obviously not safe to let them go unguarded.

All the time I was rather anxious as to the chances of the chief fulfilling his promises about sending me the fresh carriers that night. However, there was nothing to be done but to hope for the best, and in the meantime to keep a sharp eye on my present porters. That night I halted at a small stream, which was the only water within some miles, and was the place where I had directed the new carriers to meet me. I did not much relish the prospects of the evening before me; keeping a watch on the would-be truants and slumber were two things that would hardly reconcile themselves without the assistance of the friendly hut of yesterday. About 9 p.m., however, to my joy, I heard a commotion outside the small camp, and on going out of my tent found it indicated the arrival of the carriers from the previous halting-place. The chief had after all been honest to his promises, and I had been unjust to his majesty.

The following morning I made a very early start, about four o’clock, with the intention of trying for a West African eland. My “boy” and carriers were to go on to a small village only some ten miles away, where I would join them that night. I had been told that eland were to be found in this neighbourhood, and had myself seen tracks of one the previous day. Not having time to wait more than a day in that part of the country, I did not feel inclined to go away without trying my luck after one of these fine animals. The eland is one of the very largest of West African antelopes, and is decidedly rare. The horns make a splendid trophy, which I was most anxious to add, if possible, to my collection. One of my new carriers professed to be a hunting-man out of work and to know the country well, so I had arranged to take him with me. We were now on the watershed between the Rivers Fie and Sankarani, a rather sparsely wooded country, intersected by several small streams which flowed down on either side to join the two big rivers in due course. The haunts of the eland were said to be on the eastern side towards the Sankarani River, whither we directed our steps.