As we steamed away from the shores of Koulikoro I felt my spirits rise at the prospect of seeing “fresh woods and pastures new,” and this bade fair to be one of the most interesting portions of my journey, for at last I was on the navigable Niger, after following it from its source for so many hundred miles and seeing it gradually grow from a tiny, insignificant stream into a fine, big waterway.
CHAPTER XII
On a river launch — Salutations — Crocodiles — An evening halt — Camping on the bank — Tobacco-growing — Cotton-growing — Garrison mess life — Irksome travelling — An enlightened ruler — An excellent shooting ground — A holy city — Kadis — Architecture — Sails of grass — Picturesque pilots — A strike in the engine-room — Flat country.
AS we glided easily down the river I began to think that life on the “Réné Caillé” would be rather pleasant.
It was very enjoyable to sit on deck in an easy chair watching the rapidly changing landscape as we went along merrily at five or six miles an hour.
The river was not more than 400 yards wide here, and its bed was frequently split into three or four channels by spits of sandbank. Many of these channels were certainly not more than forty yards wide, so the little launch required careful handling to get her round the numerous turnings of the stream. On the left bank the Koulikoro Hills were still to be seen gradually extending farther and farther from the shore until they were lost in a blue haze in the distance.
On the right bank the country was extremely flat, vegetation had become more and more scarce, until, on this side, the ground was merely covered with patches of low scrub.
Occasionally we passed a fishing village, a collection of small mud huts huddled together on the river banks. As we steamed by a swarm of black urchins would come out to look at the launch, waving their dusky little arms and shouting greetings.
As evening began to fall a number of tiny islets, fringed with trees, began to appear on the landscape. In spite of the dry weather the trees were clothed in mantles of rich green, relieved only by masses of ruddy, orange-coloured flowers, in places where the beautiful “Flamboyant” or “Gold mohur” tree prospered. Canoes laden with grain and paddled by a couple of sturdy natives frequently passed us, while occasionally a barge under full sail with cargo from the big markets down-stream passed us, speeding on her way to Koulikoro.
The next morning we reached the important trading village of Nyamina. This place was considerably larger than anything we had yet seen. The houses are built of the reddish-brown Niger mud; they are solidly constructed dwellings, the colour of which so nearly approximates to that of the surrounding soil that the inexperienced eye cannot detect the presence of a village until almost within hailing distance of it. Nyamina is on an important trade-route leading from Southern Mauretania to the Niger, and it is at this point that caravans cross the river on their way to the big markets of Bobo-Djilassu and Sikasso. Even as we arrived a big convoy of at least 300 camels, which had just come in, was to be seen watering at the river brink. The camels would not cross the Niger here, but the merchandise would be transported to its destination on carriers’ heads. It was the first time on this journey that I had come across camels, and it was a curious thing that at my first view of them I should see no less than 300. We halted here for an hour to take in wood. A certain amount of coal, in the form of briquettes imported from France, is burnt on the Niger vessels, but the majority of their fuel consists of wood. Special arrangements are made with the headmen of certain villages on the banks to stack wood for the use of steamers. When a boat requires fuel she blows her steam-whistle to attract the attention of the village, and then gives an order for the amount taken to the headman. The latter can obtain payment for his wood on presenting the order to the Commissioner of his district.